#it’s safe in here in my little blue bubbles

[idalievu]

Started reading the jaws novel today. Why is it like that.

[mischiefmanagers]

Azriel Fic Rec Library 🦇💙

In no particular order, here's an extensive list of Azriel x Reader or Azriel x OC fics that I've compiled for those who can't get enough of him. I literally maxed out the number of tags/links you can include on a post for this 😂

🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut

by @acourtofmenandthirst

You Called 🥀💞

by @moonlightazriel

Before you 🔥🥀

The truth about you 🥀💞🔥

The family we choose 💞

by @thelov3lybookworm

I Didn't Ask For This 🌼🥀

Finally Safe 🌼🥀

My brother. 💞

by @writingsbychlo

SWEET LIKE SUGAR 🌼💞🥀

false confessions 🌼🥀

how we survive 🥀

by @readychilledwine

Slow Hands 🌼💞🔥

Bound by Fate 🌼🥀💞🔥

Little Bat, Big Dreams 💞

Beauty in Pain 🥀

Devotion 💞

by @leafsandstarlight

Forced Revelations

by @lalacliffthorne

the basic rules of friendship 💞🔥

motorcycle 💞

by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

Hear the lonely cry out 🥀

Can you love me most? 🥀

Baby daddy 💞

by @draemgal

master of disguise 💞

by @azsazz

Nightlight 🥀

Wrong Side of the Right Coin Azriel x Reader x Eris 🥀

Just Hold On 🥀💞

What Lies Ahead

Bleed for Me

by @xoxonyxx

What Should've Been ��

by @illyrian-dreamer

Spin the bottle 💞🥀

Our girl Azriel x Cassian x Reader 🥀

by @acourtofwhatthefuck

Practice On Me 💞🔥

by @danikamariewrites

Sixth Sense 💞

Shell 💞

Fever Dreams 🥀💞

Please Don't Go 🥀💞

Pointless Fights 🥀

Perfect Princess 💞

by @lidiasloca

more than this 🥀

by @tadpolesonalgae

please... 🌼🥀

washing his wings 💞

Can't Bring Myself To Hate You 🌼🥀🔥

His Personal Assistant

by @mother-above

The Golden Warrior 🌼

by @aquanova99

The Shadow and the Seraphim

by @fieldofdaisiies

Oh Those Romance Novels 🔥

Love's A Burden 🥀

by @ellievickstar

Between Two worlds

by @florence-end

Worst kept secret 💞

Stitch up

by @redheadspark

Reunited 💞🥀

Hold 🥀💞

by @acourtofmarvels

Miracle 🥀

by @bookish-whore

Haunted 🥀

by @honeybeefae

7 Minutes In Heaven 🔥🔥

Shadows of Fire Azriel x Reader x Eris 🔥🔥

by @reverie-verse

Ooops Mating Bond 🌼💞

by @cassiefromhell

Unexpected Azriel x Reader x Eris 💞🥀

by @ladylokilaufeyson5

A Little Helping Hand 🌼💞

I Will Always Find You 💞🥀

by @azrielhours

Soft Spot 🌼🔥💞

I want you to rest 💞🥀

Kiss Thief 💞

Soul Song 💞

Restless Dreams 🥀

Stolen Away 💞

Waiting for You 💞🥀

by @liahaslosthermind

Swarming children and elbows to the face 💞

by @itsphoenix0724

Tickle My Strings 🔥

by @jeannineee

Apology 💞

Umbra et Ventus

Blue and Red Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Stubble 💞

Illyrian Babies Azriel x Cassian x Reader 💞

Closure 🥀🔥

by @violette-hue

Fated 🔥

by @angelshadowsinger

Supposed to Be Together 🥀🔥

Prized Possession 🥀💞

by @callmeblaire

little friends 💞

by @fairydustblossom

tied to you 🥀💞

losing control🥀💞

pre relationship fluff 💞

by @throneofsapphics

up all night Azriel x Reader x Cassian 💞

by @arrantsnowdrop

Starlight 💞

Wrongly Accused 🥀🔥💞

by @clairebear08

Hide and Seek 💞

Betrayal 🥀

by @starlightandsouls

My Angel 💞

Yours To Keep And Cherish 💞

Bookshop Brawls 💞

by @azrielscrown

the secret of seduction 💞🔥

wake me up. 💞

by @glittergelpensblog

Shadow and Song

In the Dark

by @azriels-shadowsinger

brother's best friend 💞

by @xreaderbooks

Two sides 🥀

by @vacant--body

stay with me 🥀🔥

by @whisperingmidnights

We Shall Become Monsters 🌼

by @wishfulwithwine

You Belong With Me 🥀

by @queen--of--shadows

Healing Shadows 🌼

by @ochiolism

winter's frost

[zombholic]

MILF ABBY WITH READER WHO HATES KIDS HC — abby anderson

description — milf!abby, reader who isnt that great with kids, age gap, reader is around mid twenties and abby is late thirties going on forty, smut, mdi !!,

authors note — literally all my creds and inspo goes to @elliespassagerprincess i literally love their milf abby series pls go read it !!

— You and your friends know that you do not have a single motherly instinct in your bones, you and kids do not mix well together.

— This one time you were just strolling while shopping and a toddler came up to say hi to you and you just stared at it wondering what to do.

— If there’s a child screaming at the top of their little lungs you literally give it a death glare.

— You also call children “it” and make everyone laugh every time you talk about a kid.

— But if it wasn’t for Abby’s six-year-old daughter Melanie who came up to you one day at a your local grocery store crying like snot bubbling at her nose and she looked sticky trying to hold your hand you wouldn’t have met your future milf wife.

“Oh, uh hi— why are you crying?” You let the little child grab your pointer finger as you tried to hard to fight your inner demons from the stickiness of her little hand.

“I— I can’t find my mommy.” She used her other hand to wipe the snot off her face, you could feel every nerve in your body cringe. You felt bad for the thing but jesus why are kids so fucking sticky.

You and the kid sat on one of the benches inside the store, you bought her some candy to make it stop crying and it worked. You did inform an employee that there was a lost kid, they spoke on the intercom after telling you that if the parent isn’t here in a certain amount of time they would call law enforcement.

“So, what’s your name?” You pinched your eyebrows together looking at the small being next to you devouring the ring pop like her life depended on it.

“Melanie but all my friends call me Melly.” She gave you a toothy smile well … she was missing majority of her teeth so half toothy smile?

“That’s … nice? You have friends?” She shook her head, her two little braids looked like she got into a street fight.

“Yeah, a lot like a lot of friends, what’s your na—“ She was cut off by a woman’s voice calling out for her.

“Melanie!” Both of your eyes shot up at the… holy fucking fuck she was breath taking.

— You found out that her name is Abby and she has a little escape artist for a child, she hugged you tightly with those giant arms thanking you for keeping her baby safe.

— Abby was truly taken back by how beautiful you are, she was quick to tell you she’ll repay you and managed to get your number while doing so.

— You guys ended up bonding really fast, even though you two were almost complete opposites she was so fascinated by you.

— She invited you over to dinner at her house and fuck was she loaded, not like you were in it for the money but damn must be nice.

— She genuinely found it so amusing how you would interact with Melanie, treating her like a little adult. You weren’t the type to use baby words towards kids you just spoke to them.

— Melanie really resembled Abby to the T, she had her mom’s blue eyes, freckles, the cutest nose but she had blonder hair, you just assumed it was from the dad.

— After months of basically hanging out with them you guys felt so inseparable, you still would give concerning expressions whenever Melanie would do something weird.

— Abby was falling in love you, whenever all three of you would watch a movie that Melanie always picked out and yes you did argue with a six year old about picking movies she would just have the urge to grab your face and kiss you.

— For halloween you bought Melanie an inflatable dinosaur costume with a pink tutu, you literally were crying from how silly she looked holding Abby’s hand.

— Abby was so reluctant to make the first move, scared that she was too old for you but little did she know how much it turned you on that she was older.

— You decided to ask Abby out on a date, you called her up while you were at home, heart beating out of your chest when she said yes.

— The date was at the arcade, cheesy but Abby always won you prizes every time you guys went with Melly. She beat at you literally every single game and being competitive you just glared at her.

— Melanie was at a sleepover at her friend’s home so you and Abby had the place to yourselves, after the date you guys were chilling in her kitchen Abby finally had the courage to kiss you.

“Can I please kiss you?” She looked at you with those pleading eyes, a slight whine to her words.

NSFW mdi NSFW mdi NSFW

— She pinned your back against the counter, her hand cupping the side of your face, the kiss felt so warm but soon became greedy.

— She carried you to her room, your legs wrapped around her waist, arms around her neck as you drove her fucking crazy kissing on her neck like that.

— Abby has a Daddy kink, she had her strap settled deep in your drooling cunt, legs on her shoulder, thrusting so fucking deliciously making you claw at her arms.

“Mmmgh— oh fuck Abby..” Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, knuckles white from the grip you had on her arms.

“Daddy, call me fucking Abby again and I wont let you cum.” She slapped your face, grabbing it with her hands squeezing your cheeks together.

God this wasn’t the sweet, motherly Abby you knew but some sex god who would fuck you so stupid it left you an incoherent mess.

— She had crazy stamina, had you in every position, face down with your ass up, riding her cock, your back pressed against her front as she spread your legs open drilling your bruised and aching pussy.

— She was so mean, she mocked your moans, bit your skin, slapped your tearful face every time you stopped looking at her. You couldn’t get enough of this side of her.

— She over stimulated you so much you were sobbing, trembling every time she would touch you, your legs shook violently.

Abby had her arms wrapped securely around your thighs, spreading them open so wide. Her tongue lapping you up, sucking on your puffing clit, sliding her tongue inside your sore cunt.

“Daddy please! Too much, s’too much, too much” You squealed, crying out trying to push her head off of you.

— After long hours of her using you, she was so quick to turn her motherly instincts back on. Kissing your face so sweetly, her eyes filled with worry that she pushed you over the edge.

— You reassured her that it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. She started a bath for you, sitting right behind you as she massaged your aching body, running her fingers over the love bites she left scattered on your body.

— She held you so tightly as you both had fallen asleep on her amazing bed.

[loupy-mongoose]

Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)

It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.

The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.

Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!

Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.

Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.

Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.

He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.

Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)

Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.

The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.

There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.

Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.

What could be done?

They came to a silent agreement.

Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...

To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.

Curiosity.

The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.

Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)

The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.

Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?

The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...

The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.

I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...

Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...

Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.

Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

New skill acquired~

And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.

Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD

[pascals-doll]

 CONVENIENCE STORE

ellie williams x reader

『••✎••』 in which ellie self-loathed in her mistake as the weeks pass. you both went back to your regular lives, so will life spare a divine intervention? | WC: 12.0K

🫧 THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE

🫧 SERIES MASTERLIST | CH.3 HERE

🫧SHE TOLD ME WATCH THE SNAKES CUS THEY WATCHING YOU! TYSM BABIES FOR THE IMMENSE FEEDBACK ON THE FIRST CHAPTER OMG 🥹!!

🫧description: MODERN AU! DESCRIPTIVE ANGST!, INTRO TO 2 IMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERS!, latina!reader, descriptions of reader having bronze/tawny skin, mentions of religioius la virgen, a little bit of a abby mention ☺️, mentions of smoking marijuana, talk about about identifying sexuality, mentions of toxic relationships, bff!dina, reader speaks spanish! (very little in this this chapter), dina speaks spanish, reader’s nickname from her close friends is “gatà”, mention of y/n once (___), kissing! love reconciliation, use of pet name (mama).

CHAPTER TWO

oh, how Ellie texted you the morning right after as she woke up thinking about you. the way she grabbed her phone, opened the contact, and began to fly her fingers away in confidence.

Ellie had every intention of contacting you, she genuinely couldn’t get you out her mind as she had already put the lipliner you left her on her nightstand for safe keeping.

just like any regular person with the phone number of who they spent the night dancing with and even ending the night off with a kiss, you would think to text them.

yet, she sat there on her bed slightly hung over but Ellie truly believed that she could’ve been plastered, and she still would’ve remembered meeting you. she had her phone in her hands.

how hard could it be right?

how hard can it be to just type a quick message to the girl she over the moon infatuated with after the first night?

it was alot harder than ellie definitely thought….

Ellie wishes she could say that as she had her phone in her hand, her thumbs got to typing away with ease, and already asking you on a date.

a simple hello could’ve also just sufficed.

still, her fingers wouldn’t move, loosing control. it was like the wiring in her brain had short-circuited; a blank mind being the only thing processed.

in reality, she sat there with phone in hand, staring at the blank blue bubble waiting to be written in.

it had been 2 weeks since the night of the party.

2 weeks.

two weeks.

how did Ellie fuck up this badly?

she wasn’t quite sure, but she had been living in an eternity of pity and grimace since then.

why?

it was because only Jesse’s ass could be spending almost any given moment he has on the phone with Dina while Ellie couldn’t even send you one damn text.

one night Ellie came back from home working late-night at Joel's car-shop.

she was beyond exhausted and the first thing she heard as she walked through her shared apartment with Jesse was Dina's laugh.

Ellie was happy Jesse finally found someone he genuinely likes but it was her own 'pussy-ness' that irked her.

she practically dragged herself to her room in her own wallow but of course, Jesse wanted to greet his best friend.

"hey Els! how was work with y'old man?" Jesse questions, approaching you while still on the phone.

"fucking mute that shit!" Ellie panicked as she whisper-shouted like she was going to be caught or seen. Jesse rolled his eyes before pressing mute on the Face-Time.

"bro what the fuck is wrong with you?" Jesse retaliates, he looked at her like she was wielding a gun around.

"what the fuck! nothing!" Ellie sneers out harshly like as if she wasn't the one causing a scene.

Jesse huffed out but before he could speak, a familiar voice rang through the speaker of his phone.

'Deens! I brought my mom's menudo! your favorite!'

She knew it was your voice, even off one night with you.

she would be able to recognize your voice anywhere.

Jesse watched how you relaxed when you heard her, completely pulled into a trance in a matter of seconds between a phone call that wasn't yours.

"do me a favor—and a favor for yourself, text her for fuck-sake." Jesse sighs out, shutting the door to your room.

Ellie was sure it was too late to try again now.

it was too late all because of her own overthinking.

she was sure it would take a miracle to get another chance with you.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

on your side of things, you felt completely fooled.

when you woke up the next morning and finally was conscious enough to check your phone; just to see your notification box empty.

could you even be angry at Ellie?

you would begin to slightly overthink.

you didn’t know why you cared so much, you were cross-faded half the night and it was just a party….so why couldn’t you stop thinking about her.

you’re not gay…..well…no….ehhh..

you literally felt so stupid as you mentally pondered with yourself. even if it was just drunk you acting up last night.

you remember it so vividly and clearly, there was no way you could try to play this off.

“que piensas, gatà?” Dina huffs out, bagel in hand as she throws herself on her bed right next to you, referring you to the name she's been calling you since 7th grade.

“has he texted you?” you gave Dina this look which Dina reciprocated by arching one eyebrow in case you were trying to insinuate something.

“girl…he called me!” she looked around with an exaggerated look of shock with a hand on her heart causing you to giggle out with her.

you let out a whistle at her playful smugness “‘atta girl!” you were happy that at least one of you got a message back.

"What!? did she not text you?" Dina asks you slightly shocked, Dina did not miss the little kiss you had shared last night.

you didn't even meet her gaze, just twiddling with your thumbs.

"no... but I mean, she was just another person at a party that you have a good—" you rambled, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince Dina.

she quickly cut you off "yeah babe, but that was with men and during all those stupid little breaks that dick claimed were needed." Dina begins. you already know what she was getting at.

"hoe, if you don't look at me."

you brought your eyes to meet with Dina's.

"look I know we made out in 8th grade—" Dina chuckles out which causes you to groan out annoyingly. you throw one of her stuffed animals at her; she caught that shit with ease.

"Dina!" you beam out, you were internally cringing for some reason and felt anxiety bubbling inside you out of the blue.

"babe! you were on gay shit last night. somebody had to say it." Dina could've worded this so much better, but it was Dina.

she was going to put it in the only way your current stubborn self would understand; by being blunt.

you weren't shocked.

you weren't acting as if hearing those words make zero sense to you.

you were confused, maybe slightly ashamed too.

you couldn't quite put a pin in your emotions which was now causing an inner distress to ignite.

"I-I-am....I-I" you sounded like an infant trying to mutter your first word.

que mierda, fucking get it together.

you internally scolded.

"___, I'm not telling you anything. I'm just saying that Ellie is definitely a lesbian and she made you feel something. that is okay—i mean girl! you were with your ex since our highschool sophomore year....do you really even know yourself—like that at least?” Dina was your closest friend and each word that fell from her lips was for your own good.

you needed to open your eyes.

yes, you were so assured of yourself and your life.

yet, you let someone dictate for so many years how to feel. you were never sure of your emotions till now; but you still find yourself struggling with the aftermath of how he treated your feelings as you forgot how to treat your own.

just having to recollect the memory of it, how he could take the power away from your words.

it enraged you as you felt sick.

"no, he fucking deprived me of myself." you spat out, a slight shake in your voice at the mix of emotions. you wanted to cry; not knowing why.

Dina got closer on the bed to now be completely side by side with you. she pulled you into her embrace from the side.

"you deserve to find out, it is your life now." Dina reassures you, calming you down.

she was 100% right.

you deserved the opportunity to find out who you really are, not just naive high school you because you were way past that time.

you needed your mental to catch up with you after being under someone else's impression.

you were going to do just that.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

after that morning after the party; for the next 2 days, you hoped for something.

a text or a call.

you got nothing.

you will say you thought about Ellie quite often, but you gave up hope she would contact you what felt like to be a while ago now.

you had a life to get back too, you were too slightly egotistical to let yourself get too wrapped up in ‘what if's'.

you weren’t quite sure now on your whole self-discovery journey.

you weren’t reliant on the woman but the way you couldn’t even restock items while you were at work without thinking back to her.

the way Ellie felt.

the way she felt on you.

you recalled every single little thing about her like you had been precisely studying a subject for school.

the way her lips fell perfectly into yours.

the way her warmth was able to whelm you in.

the way she was able to pull you into her by doing nothing.

she had completely contaminated your membrane with just her.

it was becoming infuriating as the days pass.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie was beyond fed up with her mind.

anywhere she went, almost everything reminded you of her.

it felt like universe was trying to rub her stupid mistake in her face.

Ellie was working another day at the car shop with the clock reading 5:40 pm.

the sun had begun to set as she finished up the last tweaks, she needed to make on the car's engine she was working on.

she wiped the slight sweat off with the back of her wrist as her hands were covered in black grease.

"why don't you g'head on home, kiddo. I’ll finish it up." Joel perks up from behind as he placed the toolbox he brought in on his workbench.

"you sure?" Ellie questions as she walks over to the utility sink at the far corner of the repair-shop.

"Yeah, I gotta work on that client's tires—the one I told ya he came in makin' a fuss his tires weren't low enough." Joel chuckled out slightly at the end which caused Ellie to give a soft giggle.

"you talkin' about Sergío?" you recall a couple months back how a man came into the shop with the coolest lowrider she had ever seen up-close.

"yup. that's tha'man." Joels southern accent draws out.

"he should be comin' in soon" Joel told Ellie as he began to move the car Ellie finished up into the lot with the rest of the other vehicles.

now you could call Ellie crazy for this but there was no way this was coincidence.

Ellie was sat on the stool, sipping on a soda as she took her small break as she watched the familiar old school impala drive up.

the blaring headlights caused her to raise her hand, shielding her eyes with the long of her arm.

Ellie's vision was obstructed temporarily but as it quickly refocused; she immediately noticed the huge rosary pendant that hung from the man's rearview mirror.

it was the same religious female procession that was on your lighter.

for some reason whenever she thought of you, she would then see an image or an item of the beautiful prophet.

call Ellie delusional......but to Ellie, this was a sign.

if this is you, please let me see her again. she mentally prayed for.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

more days passed during these dreadful two weeks.

the both of you lived in sync as you both spent time moping over each other during your daily duties of life.

another day where you were having an unpleasant smoke session. you usually would roll up after you got out the shower, depending on the weather for your drink of choice.

you would have a hot tea or iced latte to go with the lit joint in your hand as you sat on your woven chair outside of your porch.

your mind couldn't even relax as you inhaled your kush, you would ask yourself if it was something about you that made her 'unattracted' to you.

she probably thought you were one of those girls…

you felt yourself physically cringe at the fact you even thought that.

you truly just didn't know.

Ellie had been the first woman to ever give you enough attention to have you really question yourself.

couple months before you left after the college semester finished, there was this girl in your finances class that had sat down next to you.

she had the strongest female physique you seen, her arms showing she was a gym-rat.

you even remember her name being Abby, she was sweet when she flirted with you.

it had been the first time a woman ever flirted you which automatically caused your body to flush and grow shy.

you remember shutting the poor girl down by just switching your seat, not really processing the fact she had just flirted with you.

you rubbed your head slightly as you continued to drag out your joint, puffing your smoke out after each inhalation.

this situation is different, you weren’t in a relationship this time.

you had already got a taste of Ellie and now it was something turned gluttonous.

you ash your roach before grabbing your bag and heading off to work; your brain tingling still over the auburn beauty.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

you worked in a convenience store; it was owned by your family. more specifically, your tía owned the store ever since your tío had passed away a couple years ago.

she needed help with the store, so you quit working as a sale's assistant to spend half of your day behind a counter.

you honestly thought this was better than the shit you called your old job, you were practically your own boss all day.

the convenience store was located at the corner of a cold-de-sac.

it wasn't too far from a couple car-repair shops and a plaza that had a few options of chain-stores.

your family made a lot of connections through the shop. you would say that the area you lived in was community dominated and tend to be the same community who have lived there since you were born.

your convenience store was like the hot spot for your neighborhood due to the popularity of your tío before his passing.

this made your heart full, and it was worth it every time one of the regular's came in, like right now.

"aye! Pachuco!" you shrilled in pure excitement as one of your dad's friends that you grew up with walks in through the front door.

your convivence store was a little bit different than your regular 7/11 or liquor store.

the counter was all the way in the back, so it would be a bit hard to see who's coming in unless you look at the reflective circular mirror that was at each corner.

Pachuco dressed exactly like his name though, you could not miss him from miles away.

"como estas, neña!?" you leave your section behind the counter, greeting him as you smile at his term of endearment.

you enjoyed the times your job and store gave you, especially moments like these because you never knew if it could be someone you knew who can walk through the doors at any moment.

"I've been good! what will it be today?" you question happily as you get back behind the counter.

"how's that little boyfriend of yours?" the question was a harmless one, he didn't have a single idea that you guys broke up, but you still felt yourself wince at the mention.

"aye pachi, boys will be boys." you state simply, not wanting to get into it.

he observed your demeanor as you pulled out his favorite pack of cigars from the back-shelving.

"then just two Tylenols, gracias Mija—ay! what did i tell you? don't fuckin' date this age. to be honest, we never stop being dumbasses! Jaja—es un milagro que mi esposa no me haya dejado!" Pachuco laughs out as he pays.

you let out a laugh with him before giving him one last hug before he is on his way out, waving goodbye and throwing him a smile.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

“so kiddo….y’tellin’ me that you finally get a girl that gets—you— t’dance and y’dont text her?” Joel summarizes to his understanding at Ellie’s rundown of that night while cleaning grease from the wrench he held.

Ellie just stood there with an awkward look on her face “I thought I raised you right…” Joel grumbles out teasingly.

the awkward look completely fell into a straight-doomed face “jokes kiddo! jus’jokes!” Joel chuckles out, putting the wrench down and popping the hood of the car he was working on.

“ugh! why did I even tell you!” Ellie now began to complain, throwing her gloves off and onto the chair she was once sat on.

“oh, c’mon now! jus’admit it….it was love at first sight.”

the phrase his Ellie’s ears completely drowning out all her sense.

Joel’s voice echoed through her ears with only you as the single thought that lied on her head for what felt like was already decades.

“you wouldn’t even believe her beauty, man…”

Joel knew you were kind of-talking to him, but you were so lost in thought it was almost as Ellie was trying to process it herself still.

“alright alrigh’—why don’t you go down t’store and get us couple drinks, yea?”

Ellie agrees with a nod her head before hold her palm out towards Joel’s direction.

“what?” Joel questions with a hip popped as he works on the popped-hood.

“the money, fam” Ellie remarks simply.

Joel’s expression glazed as ellie continues for stand there with a cheeky expression causing a roll of his eyes.

“fine ma’treat” he mocks out, pulling out a 10 from his jean-pocket.

“awh! thank you Joel.” Ellie’s tone was sarcastic as she threw joel a goofy grin that joel returned.

“you almost 21, y’know that right?” Joel interjected sassily with an eyebrow raised.

“that’s why you let me near the stove now!” ellie bantered childishly before grabbing her headphones; leaving out the car-repair lot.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: land of the snakes

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

Ellie walked down the cracked gray pavement as she took in her surroundings.

she observed each end of each street, looking at the street signs as she walked down; headphones blasting Cole.

she looked at the gas stations, smoke-shops, and laundromats as she crossed the cross-walk as she turned the street more into the busy neighborhood.

she peered an eye-out for a store as her head moved to the beat of the music, the buzzing of the street inaudible to ellie.

she watched as a group of women were walking up with different drinks in her far-view from more down the street.

Ellie followed the direction from where they came from turning the corner. at first, she was greeted with a plaza and a parking lot.

she passes the plaza slightly and it was almost hidden if a person werent looking in the right direction, they would miss it.

Ellie did not miss the store that she assumed the girls must’ve come from.

she couldn’t miss it when the convenience store had a mural of La Virgencita.

Ellie stopped dead in her tracks, only paying attention to the music in her headphones as she couldn’t fathom it.

♫ ain't no wedding and I do the most here

I'm the President you the co-chair.

you the player, yeah, I'm the coach here.

—I coast here.

this weather got me set up on this West Coast shit, yeah ♫

Cole playing in my ear and im seeing this? fuck my life.

Ellie pondered to herself as she just stared at the store, taking in the mural while the lyrics rang through her mind straight into the recollection of you.

her mind recalling your brown skin and the your gold jewelry sparkled as your eyes pierced through her.

she could feel her heart pounding against her chest as she observed the beautiful painting on each side of the store.

Ellie felt she was going mad but every single part of her reeling her in like fish on a rod.

she felt closer to you somehow.

like as if you were there.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

call yourself unprofessional but it wasn’t like you worked in a office or something.

if that was the case, you definitely wouldn’t be rolling up like you are right now.

you took the split cigarillo that was now packed with good greens up to your lips to lick a slick stripe along the cigarillo before pinching it sealed.

you grabbed your lighter, flicking it open as you focused on the ignited flame; drying your saliva into the blunt.

your focus was interrupted by the sound of the store-bells chiming.

no mamés—im on my fucking break. did they not read the fucking sign.

you complain mentally as you remember switching the ‘We’re Open’ to ‘Closed’.

you walk out from the backroom where the surveillance cameras were back behind your counter.

you knew someone entered but you couldn’t see who.

you decided to duck into the room real quick to put the rolled blunt into the wrapper; placing it in your sweater-pocket.

♫ nothin’s impossible

and all you lame—show me what not to do

i met a real bad bitch in the club tonight

she told me, “Watch the snakes ‘cause they watching you” ♫

Ellie was greeted with aisles of merchandise the second she walked in. she took a few steps down, passing a few aisles as she got closer to the section of refrigerators.

she wasn't paying attention much to her surroundings as she just took in the style of the store. she moved one-side of her headphones off her ear before opening the fridge and grabbing a lemonade for herself, and a sparkling water for Joel.

Ellie turned the corner, catching a glimpse of the clerk counter but she didn't see anyone behind it. she went down the aisle that was now in-front of the counter, grabbing her favorite bag of chips and a slim-jim.

now the next moment that happened.... Ellie swore it was all in slow motion.

if Ellie thought something was wrong with her brain before, her entire cerebellum just shut down for fucking sure.

she turned around with full expectation of having to wait and not seeing you behind that counter.

it genuinely was a miracle.

it was like the universe had been listening all along to the both of you, plotting this moment perfectly to unfold divinely.

Ellie dropped the snack items that were in her right hand, drinks in her left as her pupils flared. completely gleaming her eyes at you just standing there.

♫ now if you only had one wish is it devious?

'cause you already know who your genie is

ain't get a cover now your mag on my penis

like damn, he turned out to be a genius ♫

you felt frozen in place as you both burn into each other’s stare, neither of you processing the moment.

you caught a glimpse of the 'random woman' when her head was turned. she had her hair up in a loose bun and from the back—what looked like a black jumpsuit.

the second she turned around, your heart stopped.

you actually felt your heartbeat turn irregular as you were sure your eyes were gaping as jaw slacked obscurely.

you both were just gawking at each other absentmindedly. slowly, you began to remember how the woman didn't even text you and now here she was; meaning she lived in the area. your area.

you felt yourself emotions fume up "are you gonna pay or?" you nettled out, sounding way meaner than you meant too. you bit your lip in regret as you watch Ellie blink herself back into reality.

she took a step closer, still feet away from the counter you were behind. she tore her eyes from yours.

the woman didn't owe you anything but for some reason, you found yourself pushing for an answer "you come in here for that-" you began, taking your manicured nail and pointing at the items she held in her hands "or for somethin' else?" you finish questioning.

your tone was still bothered but you weren't rude.

Ellie didn't miss a single emotion though, feeling each one of your emotional vibrations straight into her heart. she wanted to open her mouth to explain everything.

in her heart, she was ready to tell you how you made her feel something no one else ever has before or how she wanted to ask you out to a fancy restaurant like she's never done because she's never met a woman who oozed of such divine elegance; while your looks could kill anyone with just one glance.

for fuck-sake, she's looks even better than I imagined.

Ellie knew this was the worse time to be checking you out, but this was something only Ellie had been dreaming about. she needed to soak in this moment.

you were wearing a black Juicy tracksuit; the zipper was halfway zipped revealing the pink halter that slightly pushed your breasts up complimented by your signature cat-eye liner and cocoa-lined lips.

your bronze skin shining through the same statement gold necklaces on the night she first met you, your hoops this time were small gold ones that Ellie didn't miss them. she took in the same details and your different ones.

you crossed your arms starting to get more irritated as you felt like the woman was judging you.... not checking you out.

“i-i’m—” ellie huffed as her eyes didn’t leave the floor before finally gaining the confidence to stride herself over and placing all the items on the counter.

“i’m sor-” you cut her off.

“i’m not gay.”

if you thought ellie’s facial expression was wistful and apologetic, her face went sour—completely deadpanning as each syllable was uttered out your mouth.

you jump immediately “wait!—” now it was your turn to take a breathe, Ellie didn’t move from her spot although her heart felt like it had been ripped out her chest.

“I’m not sure…. it’s a long story.” your explanation was pathetic.

"I was just gonna apologize...I see..." Ellie’s eyes trailed off from yours down onto the items on the counter as she dug into her pockets.

you examined her, trying to pick up on any sense of how she felt.

you looked at her up and down, she was wearing a mechanic jumpsuit that had a few stains and a white wife-beater under it. you felt yourself grow nervous at how good she looked; she looked worked out, but it made you even more attracted to her.

the small details of her becoming clearer as her freckles on her face were kissing her all across her cheeks, you took in how her clothing looked like she just came from a car-shop, and how her loose bun let a few free strands fall in her face.

you felt her rooted into you completely, just taking in her appearance bloomed your heart.

you felt yourself sigh once more, picking up the merchandise scanner and scanning each item. your hand wanted to shake so bad as the invisible blimps of your skin goosebump.

say something, say something.

your mind was burdensome as you force a sentence out of you "I'm-I'm on my break. the sign said closed." your voice was low, wanting to be hidden almost.

Ellie watches you bag her snack and drinks, rubbing the back of her neck to ease the tension that riled within her racing body; heart thrashing against her chest.

"the mural—it caught my attention.... I didn't even know there was a sign." Ellie's eyes meet yours once again.

"I understand if you didn't like me." you rush out, Ellie almost didn't catch it as you held onto her bag of items; she didn't even get the chance to hand you the 10 bill yet.

Ellie thought she was hearing things, there was no fucking way you just stated that shit.

she couldn't help but let out a very audible scoff.

"you ain't even let me say'somthin''" you could hear somewhat of a country undertone in her now loud and clear voice. nothing like the first night, where you could barely hear her.

you rolled your eyes as you felt no hope with the woman, handing her the bag.

"I never said that did I?" Ellie didn't hand you the bill yet, still in her hand. the way she let the sentence fall from her lips made your face hot.

she finally handed you the 10 "you said you were on your break?" she hinted as she held the bill in-between her fingers, making you grab it from her.

you lean in, reaching your hand out but not grabbing the bill "don'tcha know it's rude to interrupt a lady's smoke sesh?" you tease.

"m'sorry mama, any way to make it up to you?" Ellie slys out as you both flirt over the counter with each other like some shit out of a movie.

"join me?"

"i could listen to that 'long story' of yours"

you both gave each other a soft smile as you chuckled, finally taking the ten and putting it in the register before stepping outside your store with the fine roughed-up woman.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the moment was picture perfect.

you both stood outside your shop, the mural captivating the background behind the both of you as you leaned against the gumball machines that were outside on the side of your shop-doors with Ellie in front of you.

you took the blunt out of the wrapper the cigarillo originally came in, taking it between your lips.

Ellie watched you bring your signature lighter up to the tip to ignite it. you puffed on it a couple times, flicking the lighter to crisp the edges to make sure it burned correctly.

you handed her the blunt, eyes meeting as you caught her staring. there was a moment of silence as she puffed herself. you kicked your feet up in a soft bored-playful manner as you continue to challenge your mental.

"Ellie..." you began, her name falling off like butter as it sounded like a lullaby to Ellies ears. she had all ears and eyes on you as she continued to drag out the blunt.

"I would love to tell you everything—but for right now...." you took a deep breath as you felt the cottonmouth begin to catch you.

Ellie leaned closer, putting a hand over yours comfortingly. she did it unconsciously, by the time she even realized she had her hand on your shoulder; she was already feeling ready to comfort you to even mentally process.

"that's okay-like I said, I'm all ears"

you couldn't process how compassionate she was with you as you spoke up.

"not too long ago, I broke up with a long-term boyfriend—he cheated that's not the point—the point is that.... I have never been with anyone besides him." you explain, your pauses being inhalations of the sparked bud.

Ellies brows furrowed but she listened to you intently, she couldn't believe a woman like you could ever be cheated on.

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve someone like that." she reassures once more causing your heart to skip a beat.

you disregard the comment by giving her a soft smile and passing her back the blunt, not wanting to focus too much on that aspect "I know I sound complicated, but I just never got the chance to figure it out" your voice was somber, picking at your fingers nervously.

your breath hitched as her hand gently picked up your face by your chin, her face a good distance from yours as the steps she took closer to you only closed the space that was left between the both of you.

"y'know that is not your fault right?"

those words brought you back to what Dina told you weeks ago.

"thank you...." you gave her a weak smile as you trailed off "not what you thought, huh?" you gave her this look of pity, not for her but for yourself.

"maybe not but to be fair, I was thinking a lot worse after 'I'm not gay' right then and there" Ellie lightens the mood by making the both of you laugh as you continue to smoke together.

"i may not know much—" you puff out before taking a couple more hits of courage out of your blunt.

"but I know I really like you, Ellie."

your voice was sincere, not a single doubt, or hint of all of this being a 'joke'. she searched your face to see any hence of regret or anxiousness. she found none.

your face was assured and if anything, you had straightened yourself up more which inched your faces closer slightly as your confidence flourished through you within seconds.

the switch up drove Ellie crazy.

your demeanor screaming 'I know what I want' and it was all pointing towards the woman in front of you in this dirty black jumpsuit which made her look ravishingly good.

Ellie followed your confidence naturally, something only you were able to derive out of her so easily.

she inched her face closer as you let out of puff of a cloud of smoke in front her face in a playful manner before her face met yours, now only feet away from yours.

"been one night and I already can't think of any other woman than you, mama."

your heart was running a thousand miles per second.

the same nickname she called you affecting you more than before.

"that why you ain't text me?" the real question of the evening.

the confidence Ellie had just gotten completely diminished.

"I'm not maddd" you drag out, reaching a hand to tug on her jumpsuit gently as you smirk. you weren't anymore.

Ellie was like putty under anything you did, your look and if you commanded her to do anything; she would do it in a heartbeat and Ellie knows she would.

just like that, her tense aura calmed down.

"i was so fucking ready to ask you out on some fancy shit. i was gonna tell you im picking you up at 7, having a whole ass bouquet while you stepped down all divine as fuck—i was so close! my fucking fin—"

Ellie couldn't finish your sentence by the crashing of your lips onto hers.

the kiss wasn't heated or fast, it was purely passionate. you both sulked into each other as your bodies needed this. you indulged in the warmth you both brought each other, your arms wrapping around her neck as the once lit blunt blew out while still in between your middle and ring finger.

the mix of the tobacco from the cigarillo creating a swish in the taste of each other's tongues in distasteful pleasure as neither of you could care or process anything besides being together right here in this moment like a heaven-sent.

if this was the work of the divine, ellie found herself mentally thanking them as your lips moved in sync together.

Ellie pulled away with the biggest smile on her face, biting her lips ever-so-softly before speaking.

"Is there any way tis'beautiful woman could spare a poor mechanic woman one more chance?" Ellie takes a hand, placing it across her heart dramatically causing small giggles to erupt out of you.

you pick up on how ellie mentioned she was a mechanic. ‘that’s so fucking hot’ you thought to yourself.

Ellie watched you in pure admiration and beauty "and what would that be, hmm?" you hum out contently, your forehead's brushing against each other.

"that date. you and me, and a fancy dinner—how about it, mama?"

Ellies eyes gleamed hopeful as your gaze's pour into each other.

"i thought you would never ask, bebé"

there you two were, rekindling outside of a convenience store.

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[konigsblog]

omg I loved idea of kidnapper!konig w the shy and sheltered reader it has me floored tbh🫨😮‍💨 presenting you my brain rot the way a proud cat delivers a leaf on your doorstep as a token of gratitude

thinking about how he noticed her at her work or something bc she was so helpful but a little reserved, afraid of him even. Probably bc she isn’t used to seeing 6”10 behemoth military men every day. Konig is smitten w the way she shies away from his intense eye contact, the way she flushes painfully all over her face and neck and stutters as he tries to make conversation. He is enamored, because despite being taken aback by him she still is so obedient and proper in the way she addressed him, going out her her way to make sure he has everything he needs. He wonders in how many other ways she would be so willing to serve him. He knows that she would make the perfect housewife, one worth it to being kept in a gilded cage. a beautiful girl such as herself, oblivious to the dangers of the real world needs protection, someone strong to keep her safe from all the bad men who would no doubt gladly take advantage of her. Konig makes a vow that day to be her protector. at first, the only thing she does is cry and try to get away from him after she wakes up and finds herself chained in his dark basement. She refuses to believe this is her new reality, that’s she’s held captive in the dungeon of the soldier with the icy blue eyes she met at work. She wonders what her mistake was, because she only tried to be nice and friendly despite feeling a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach the minute she had laid eyes on the masked giant. If only she had listened to her gut…

no matter how much she beg and pleads, the giant doesn’t budge. He patiently waits for her panic to subside as he takes her in his arms, shushes her and gently wipes and kisses away her tears. He makes her skin crawl, but no matter what she does, she can’t escape the iron grip of his enormous arms snaked around her waist, holding her against his chest as he rocks her back and forth. He is so sweet and gentle, so patient and understanding. He lulls her to sleep in his arms, speaking soft and soothing words in her ear. Soon, she’ll get used to her new home. To her new place beside him, as his. His to love, his to cherish and protect. He promises the chains will come off her ankles and wrists once she behaves and stops trying to get away. But until then, she’s bound to sleep on the old mattress in the cold basement. Of course he isn’t heartless. He comes down once a day to feed her, always making sure its her favorite foods and snacks she gets but on one condition: she has to let him feed her, take the bites and spoonfuls from his hand. He coos at how much of a good girl she is being for him, his praises tinting her ears all pink. And he allows her to bathe, he has all of her favorite oils and gels and products. But once again, for a price. She has to allow him to bathe her. At first she tries to edge away from his hands on her, large and brute palms lathering her soft skin with soap, thoroughly rubbing her all over. She’s never been naked in front of someone else, let alone touched in such a way. But she relaxes once he applies enough pressure on her aching joints, massaging the soreness away. When she finally relaxes and leans her head back against the bathtub, she feels his calloused fingers edge down to her core, teasing her folds. She flinches and opens her eyes, looking up at him, startled and caught like a deer in the headlights.

“have you ever been touched down here, meine hirsch?”

his voice is ever so soft and inviting. She shakes her head, caught in his gaze as her chest falls and rises, her nipples hardening from the cold as her soapy breasts peak up from underneath the bubbles. His fingers find something small, something hidden between her folds and she yelps when he starts rubbing slow and small circles on it. He is delighted to have his suspicions confirmed, his engel is untouched. A virgin.

“you’ve been so good for me today. So obedient. You’re learning so fast, meine hirsch. I think you’ve earned another reward. How about I spoil you some more?”

NON-CON/RAPE

könig is so ecstatic to realise that his little engel is a sweet, inexperienced virign. so he can be your first, the one to corrupt you. you're just so sheltered, so scared and teary-eyed when his hands dip further and further until they reach area's you wish they wouldn't have.

his semi-hard cock only hardens more at the sight of you; bare and wet in a tub of warm water, weak and vulnerable against him. god, the thoughts and fantasies of taking you now – even if you didn't want it – were driving him crazy, almost delusional as his eyes widen and the sides of his mouth curl up into a eerie smile. his morals almost forgotten about when he saw you shudder.

“oh-hah, my sweet thing... are you a virgin?” he lauaghs out at the question, almost taken about, excited and shocked.

he chuckles lowly when you nod, rubbing your clit in soothing circles whilst kissing your cheek. you whimper, whining at the newfound attention to your clit. you can only grip the sides of the bathtub, cornered in and useless against your kidnapper.

“please–stop!” a hearty chuckle leaves könig at your sight of misery, your fear. the tortue he's inflicting apon you and your poor, virgin body.

“you have nothing to be afraid of, my dear...” despite his promises, you could see past his smirk, knowing exactly what he had in store for you.

könig bundled you up into the towel, holding you in bridal style before placing you down at the edge of the bed. he threw the towel open from your body so that you were laying against it. the rough texture against your soft skin while he swirls his throbbing dick around your tight entrance. you whimper, squirming and shaking at the pleasure before he eases inside mercilessly. your nerves through the roof.

he doesn't care. not about your pleasure, but about the tightness of your pussy around his big dick. he's just so hard, so, so fucking hard as he pushes deep inside, pressing against your womb as he repeatedly begins thrusting into you. you cry out, thrashing beneath him to no avail as his grip on your hips only tightens, pushing you down against the bed :(

“stop-please, i don't want it!!” you whimper out, fearful and trembling, pussy throbbing and pulsing uncontrollably around him, only driving him more insane, giving him more power and control as he uses the way your body reacts against you. your pussy can't seem to stop drooling, what's the issue? he's just making sure his princess is treated right.

“look at you, you can't even deny that you're enjoying this.” he huffs out when he feels your folds wrap and tighten around his fat cock, continuously driving his huge cock into your virgin pussy relentlessly. no pity or mercy, and sure as hell no sympathy as you continue squirming despite being asked repetitively to stay still for him. so he can use you, just how he thinks you like.

you don't want this, none of it. but when he pinches your hardened, swollen nipples while bullying his thick and veiny dick into your weeping, raw cunt, you can't help but moan and pant, arousal dropping from your sex as he grinds against you.

“...no-no more...” you pant breathlessly. so sore, aching and bruised. his rough pace doesn't stop, not even for a second. slapping your face harshly as you grew more dumb and dizzy from his cock. he didn't want you to miss a second of this.

“don't pass out on me, engel, i won't stop even if you're unconscious...” you sob out at his words, choked and silenced when he wraps his large and calloused hand around your throat, making you babble out at the burning, rupturing sensation in your core.

so, so callous and careless as he leaves you whimpering and sensitive.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Comfort in His Arms✨

A/N: This is really just a little Drabble about being comforted in Joel’s arms and being deeply loved by him. It’s so soft, and I really needed this lately, and I hope it will bring comfort to all my lovely friends on here 🥹

Summary: A little Drabble about enjoying the sunrise while you’re being comforted and held by Joel. Soft, gentle, warm. He’s your forever.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 767

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your eyes peel open, marble sun bursts fading through the sheer curtains. Shades of gold and orange painting the tan walls as wafts of fresh brewed coffee and clean soap surround you. You rock gently in the wooden rocking chair, the one you always found so comforting in this house. Except you’re not alone, not even in your own house. No. You’re with Joel. In his arms, in his house, in his chair. Your favorite place is all three of those wrapped up into one. Anything that’s his is.

Still. It’s so still outside, quiet as you slowly rock back and forth in the wooden rocking chair. His chair. Art he made with his own strong hands. He was always so crafty, so talented, so good at everything he made. But that wasn’t all he was good at. He was also good at comforting you, enveloping you in his entire broad being as he made every day a comfort day for you.

It’s like you’re in your own little bubble. The outside world completely nonexistent when you’re in his house, in his arms, in his lap, in his chair. It’s your own little heaven, a forever paradise where you want to continue to stay for the rest of your days.

Warm. He’s so warm, as warm as the sun’s blazing rays. Fiery, intense, blinding, just like his passion for you is.

Safe. Dispelling all forms of worry, stress, or fears. He’s a safe haven, a towering fortress that blankets you in his strong arms. Safe. That’s where you feel it most. In his arms.

Soft. He’s so soft as his calloused fingers trail down your sun kissed arms, his fingers running slowly through your thick hair like silk on the tip of your skin.

Gentle. The way he kisses you gently on the forehead, trailing his salt and pepper scruff carefully over your jawline as you breathe him in. Coffee and mahogany dancing over your senses as you breathe him deep. And then it’s only him in your system, always just him. Dwindling down to connect with every fiber of your being, tugging on your heart strings as it beats only for him.

It’s only him. It’s always just been him. Joel, Joel, Joel. Your infinite sunlight that continues to surround you and bathe you in glistening warmth. And all you see is him, those deep brown eyes that sink through you like raindrops pounding on the lake, pulling you under as you drown in him again and again and again. Infinite. He is infinite, forever.

You slowly rock in the chair, your body wrapped around his as he holds you close in his lap, his calloused fingers running slowly through your hair, down your arms, trailing over your silky lips. He’s everywhere, a complete blanket of warmth, your comfort, exactly what you need now.

“There’s my girl,” he whispers as he kisses the top of your head and pulls you tighter against his broad chest. “Such a sweet girl, darlin’. You’re so beautiful,” he slurs, sleep coating over his deep drawl as you breathe him in deep and slow.

You hug your arms around him, hooking your fingers into his soft blue flannel as his large hand rubs slow circles down your back. “Ain’t nobody gonna harm you, angel. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby girl.”

His words carry around the room, a promise he’ll never let anything hurt you again. This is the place you can release all your worries, your stress, your problems. It’s in this room, in his chair, in his lap, in Joel’s home. And you’re finally safe. Finally able to breathe as long as you're in his arms. This is where you belong. With him.

He sinks his lips against yours. Soft, plush lips that coat you in love. You fall into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers tangle through his tousled curls. He cups the back of your head, lips parting so he can slot his tongue between your teeth, dancing his tongue against yours as they seem to meld and form into one. And then it’s fire. Simmering, hot warmth that burns through your soul, leaving you completely breathless in the moment. It’s love, it’s always been love. And you stay like that for the entire morning as the sun slowly rises in the violet sky.

Joel is your home, your peace, your happiness, everything you have to live for. It’s Joel. And you finally feel that you’re home because you are.

Joel is home. Your safe, happily ever after. Joel.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Desperation vs. Domestication (Pt. 2)

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 4431

Summary: Though you have been lulled into a deep sense of security by Drift's kindness and comfort, you still haven't completely lost the need to be free. A terrible nightmare refuels your desire for escape...but Drift isn't someone who wants to let you go.

HEEHEEHEEHEE I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE A PART 2 OF THIS...so I did. It's because Drift is my all-time favorite Transformer and I absolutely LOVE putting my favorite characters through angst. If you enjoyed reading part 1, then I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated! Enjoy! :D

Here is the link to pt. 1 if you haven’t read it!

Also available to read on AO3!

  Two months later…

  You dream of Earth tonight.

  There are fields; you are standing in one. Long Bermuda grass tickles your ankles with the gentle presence of the planet recognizing its own. The endless green is splattered with occasional droplets of color: pink poppies, yellow sunflowers, marigolds, dandelions. It is warm. There is a slight wind blowing, playing with your hair. You turn your face towards the sunlight and bask in the relief of knowing you are home.

  All of a sudden, you hear a sound. Thumping. Steady, rhythmic. Loud. You feel the wind die down and suddenly the sun is gone, and there is only darkness. A massive shadow blots out all of the light. You see a figure looming over you, red-and-white with bright blue eyes that stare into your soul and make you feel terror.

  You try to run, but find you cannot move your legs. There is nothing you can do when you watch a giant hand reach down in slow motion and pluck you up, holding you between titanic fingers. The monster’s mouth opens, and then you are tumbling down, right into an abyss of metal and isolation. The Earth melts away forever. You are trapped. You are alone.

  Shooting forward out of your nightmare, you hear yourself scream. The squishy floor underneath you makes you lose your footing when you scramble upward in a blind panic and fall into Drift’s stomach wall. Everything moves, the organ grumbling unhappily at you being awake. Your hands scramble at the mesh cables. Little pink bubbles of cybernetic blood pop anxiously beneath their semi-transparent surfaces. The walls close in to squeeze, holding you in a secure hug, attempting to keep you still. But you cannot think. You are scared, and you feel trapped, so you desperately begin to thrash and fight against the stomach.

  Drift’s voice booms above you, panicked. “Little one? Little one?!”

  “Let me go!” you shriek. “Please, letmegoletmegoletmego!”

  The walls loosen up, freeing you. You collapse into the fetal position, gasping while sweat beads your brow and your heart goes crazy.

  Drift presses his hands over his middle. “Little one, little one, shhhh, shh, shh, shh,” he hushes frantically. “Safe, safe…safe, all is safe...no need for fear…”

  Gradually, you calm down. Only when you are no longer trembling does Drift tentatively begin to squeeze you again. In and out, slow kneading, like he’s silently coaxing you to continue breathing at a healthier pace. “Little one…okay?” he asks.

  Your voice quivers. “I-I’m fine. I’m okay. It-It was a bad dream. A nightmare.” You sit upright and lean into the stomach wall. Drift holds you close, the undulating muscle relaxing you with its constant massage. His biolights pulse and flicker, a clear sign of his stress. You woke him up with your screams. It makes you feel bad, so you snuggle his cables further. The robot’s stomach is not a big place, but Drift likes to be conscious of you. The support you provide him in completing this task is obviously appreciated, because he hums softly and pats his hand over where you are.

  There is peace again. Peace and warmth. But you don’t feel the usual safety. There is a lingering pit of dread growing deep within your gut, foul roots clawing their way through your body, leaving you jittery, uneased. Your nightmare is the first one in months, and it’s a sure sign things are not right.

  It has been such a long time since you thought of your possible escape plan. You don’t know how long, but you do know that you can’t be comfortable here anymore. Your mind is sending the signals loud and clear.

  No more stalling, you think to yourself. No more being complacent.

  You are not domesticated yet.

  When Drift lets you out of here…you will go through with the plan to take an escape pod home. For real this time.

  It takes you weeks to perfect your plan. And when you do finally have it all figured out, you come to the conclusion that things may end up being more complicated than you thought. Escaping a spaceship filled with giant alien robots is hard enough, yes. But then there’s the issue of what will happen when you return to Earth. You don’t know how long you’ve been abducted. It could be months. It could be years. What if all of your family and friends are long gone by the time you get home? What if things are so different that you’ve been completely left behind?

  No. You can’t think like that. A sharp patting to your cheeks snaps you out of it. Keep it together. This is the moment you have been waiting for. Regardless of what awaits you on Earth, you will be there to face it.

  You’ve packed everything you own into a small fabric knapsack your mech gifted you during your first days here (Who knew robots are such good knitters?). It’s not much, not much at all: snacks Drift gives you, strange pellets that clean your teeth, three cans of filtered water…but that’s all you really require for the trip you are going to embark on. You don’t believe it will be particularly long. The escape pods need to have some sort of device that allows them to leap through lightyears to their destinations. You believe this because you’ve watched the mothership do it from the observation windows Drift likes to bring you to sometimes. Hyperspace will occasionally be activated, with stars and planets blurring together into dazzling white paint streaks before coming to an abrupt halt in a totally new galaxy.

  Now, do you know how lightjumping works? Absolutely not. Last time you were on Earth, no such human technology had been invented yet. So you don’t exactly know how you’ll get the escape pod to lightjump like the ship does. But you’ll find a way. You have no choice.

  Now for the hard part: getting away from Drift long enough to activate the escape pod and blast away. He’s not going to make it easy for you. Drift doesn’t like letting you out of his sight if you aren’t in his room, and hardly lets you roam free. You’ve spent hours, both within his stomach and out, pondering how to go about this. It’s left you with the agonizing decision that you’ll just have to wing it somehow.

  The door to his room slides open. You’ve been sitting on his berth with your hands beneath your head and one leg crossed over the other, thinking, thinking, thinking, that at first you nearly didn’t hear him come in. You sit up to greet him with more eagerness than you’d like to show. The nightmare didn’t stop your affection for Drift from rearing its persistent head.

  There’s no waiting for him to give you his time today. When he enters the room, his focus is immediately on you with no prior distractions. Drift walks with a spring in his step, his finials perking up like an enthusiastic dog. You notice a small white box he holds in one hand, and think nothing of it. Drift’s room is decorated with countless knickknacks from other planets. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s brought some strange little souvenir home.

  “Hey, big guy,” you murmur happily when he kneels down before you. He settles the box to the side and cups both hands behind you, humming his typical car engine-purr greeting. You hug him when he draws you forth so he can nuzzle his nose into your middle. “I’m guessing you missed me?”

  Drift beep-boops excitedly. He gives you an affectionate tickle to your side, causing you to giggle. Your reaction delights him. He keeps it up, and pretty soon you are laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “D-Drift, s-stop! I-I can’t breathe!”

  He gives you one last light prod, then ends the bout of torture with more cuddles. You recover from the laughter, feeling airy and light like nothing else matters except for the giant robot holding you.

  “Little one,” he coos. “My little one.”

  “Mhm,” you mumble goodnaturedly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m yours.”

  He suddenly looks like he’s remembered something very important, and he straightens, chirping rapidly. You watch as he grabs the white box and, to your surprise, presents it to you. You glance at it, then turn to him. “For me?” you ask, pointing at yourself.

  He chirps again and nods.

  You take it from him and open it with a slight air of confusion, because he’s never given you something like this before. You think it might be a piece of jewelry, or some sort of charm. But what you see inside is neither of those things. You suck in a sharp breath of pure disbelief and go numb.

  It’s a collar. A damn collar. Sleek and narrow, its solid red with a single white stripe circumnavigating it. On one side is a strange symbol of a boxy red robot’s face-the same symbol he has on his chest. These are his colors, you realize. He’s making us match. He wants the other mechs to know that he owns you.

  Drift rumbles expectantly. When you remain frozen, unable to pry your eyes away from the collar, he gently pries it out of your now slightly shaking hands. With extreme carefulness, he clasps it around your neck. It fits comfortably and locks with a quiet click.

  “My little one,” he repeats. “Mine.”

  He’s not trying to scare you. You know he isn’t. Yet your throat is dry, and the snug weight of the collar makes you feel sick.

  You need to get the hell off of this ship.

  You spend the night feverishly trying to break the collar off, working yourself up like a caged animal driven mad by captivity. But no matter how hard you yank at it, it remains stubbornly fast around your neck. You refuse to eat the food given to you and cry yourself to sleep within a very concerned Drift’s belly, who can’t seem to console you no matter how hard he tries.

  Drift doesn’t know what to do with you.

  You’ve been moping ever since he gave you the collar. Over the next few days, any sort of drive to escape has left you. You're depressed and disappointed in him for what he’s done. You don’t want to talk to him. You don’t want to accept any of his gifts. Blanket after pillow after plushie-all made by him, with the crude markings of homemade love-are ignored. You shy away from his touch and reject his attention. When he swallows you at night, you give him no inclination you care. You sit like a stone within him and just…stare off vacantly, unable to ignore the collar around your neck.

  He’s brought you to the ship’s doctor multiple times. On the first trip, the old red medic bot looked you over and finished his checkup with a shrug and dismissive chuff. The second time, he growled at Drift and waved him away. And on the third time, he didn’t even let him through the door. There’s nothing physically wrong with you. But mentally, how could they know? How could he know he’s hurt you? You trusted him to treat you with some level of respect despite your situation, and he had, until now. The collar was your breaking point. There truly is no way for him to ever see you as anything more than a pet, and it hurts you, because by god, you love him.

  “…Little one?”

  Drift calls out to you with a soft, sad tone. You huddle up tighter beneath one of your blankets and give no answer.

  You hear him shift at his desk. There’s silence between the two of you that is not wanted. He heaves a low sigh and tries again. “Little one…please?”

  Damn your heart, you can’t keep giving him the silent treatment when he sounds like he’s about to cry.

  You push the blanket off of your head. Drift slouches in his chair, back bent like an old man’s. His finials are drooping, and the glow from his biolights is dimmer than usual. He’s obviously been letting his personal hygiene go for the sake of finding a way to help you, and it hurts to know he’s in this state because of your shitty attitude towards what he simply sees as a gift. The collar is a curse, but you can’t exactly tell him that, can you? This entire situation is all your fault.

  It's the treacherous part of your mind which attempts to convince you of this. It partially works. Giving in, you sit up slowly, drawing the blanket tightly around your shoulders and tilting your head while giving him a questioning look.

  He’s surprised by your action, like he genuinely wasn’t expecting you to respond to this extent. But he takes advantage of it. Drift offers you a hopeful smile and picks something up from his desk. He stands and walks to you, going slow. You don’t flinch when he crouches down to your level. The warm light of his eyes leaves a kind feeling on your skin.

  Tentatively, Drift extends his hand. In his palm is a piece of chocolate, one of the many treats he has at his disposal to provide you with when he feels you are being especially good. It’s an olive branch. A reach in the right direction.

  You hesitate…and then you think, Oh, what the hell. Staying mad at Drift when he has no clue he’s done something wrong in the first place won’t get you anywhere. So you accept the candy and take a small bite.

  He sags with relief, exhaust whooshing from his nose as he watches you eat with a smile. When you're finished, he moves his hand closer, twining the palm around you and resting the tips of his digits against your head and sides. You hold his index finger, resting your forehead against it and closing your eyes as a sign of trust. But you feel guilty.

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper, knowing he won’t understand. But you say it anyway. “I love you. I love you so, so much. But you're destroying me. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  A tear slips down your cheek. You don’t notice it until Drift gently brushes it away.

  “I have to go.” Your voice breaks. “I need to leave. I hope you’ll learn why. And I hope you won’t hate me for it. I-I don’t think I could handle it if you did. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t think I hated you.”

  Drift coos. His reply is indecipherable. You think he’s trying to comfort you…but you’ll never know for sure.

  He doesn’t swallow you tonight. You don’t know why; maybe he thinks you need a break. Maybe he just wants to hold you in a different fashion this time. You stay awake hours after he falls asleep, your little form nestled in the crook of his neck while he snoozes on his stomach with his arms crossed beneath his massive pillow. You peer off into the darkness, listening to his quiet breaths.

  For the longest time, you’ve thought of this room as yours and his. A space the two of you share together. Ours. It's fed into your delusional ideations of a future in which the two of you learn each other’s languages, where you stand on equal ground, you belonging to him and him belonging to you. A future where mechs and humans join hands and say “I see you. I know you. I understand you and you understand me. Neither of us is higher than the other.”

  But it will never happen. The collar around your neck is physical proof. There is no future between the two of you anymore. If you want to be you again…you need to let Drift go.

  You shuffle away from the bot’s neck and stand. The only parts of him that are lit up right now are the red symbol on his chest and the soft blue of his mouth. He’s so peaceful. This giant alien, who you know has fought in many battles from the scars you can see, is soothed by your presence. You, an insignificant little human being. The dynamic is honestly quite hilarious. You're like his very own version of a chihuahua.

 You want to hug his nose, knowing you will never have another chance again. But Drift is a light sleeper, and you're testing the waters enough already. You can’t risk it. It pains you, but you drop your arms and turn away.

  Using the metal ladder he made for you so you’d have easy access to his berth, you climb down and grab your knapsack. Quietly padding across the long expanse of the room, you make it to the door. It senses your presence and slides open. You force yourself not to look back when you walk out.

   You wonder if he will cry for you when he wakes up and finds you gone.

  The spaceship is ominous at night. The only thing you can hear as you traverse the hallways is your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. You're trying to be quiet; passing by multiple rooms with slumbering bots inside has you holding your breath and then letting it out in a forcefully slow, reedy wheeze. You are, after all, a mouse in a prison filled with cats; slow and steady and silent wins the race.

  You survey the elevator when you get to it, at a loss of how you’ll possibly find a way to operate it due to how small you are. A miracle finds its way to you, however, in the form of a mech. This one you don’t recognize. He has a similar color scheme to Drift, but is noticeably bulkier, with a strange cannon sitting on his right shoulder and a blue eyepiece over the adjacent optic. All of his focus is on the datapad in his hands as he summons the elevator. You wait for the doors to open and for him to step inside before darting after him. Luckily he doesn’t look up fonce on the short journey. Your cover remains unblown when the doors part again and he heads off. You go in the opposite direction, because like hell are you going to follow the strange robot to someplace where there are probably more strange robots.

  You slip in and out of sight, staying far away from any mechs who are awake. They do not see you, which means you are doing this right-though there are some alarming instances where you think you’ll be caught. One such occurrence happens when a tall, thin blue mech with a chest like the front of a helicopter nearly sees you duck into an open storage room for quick cover. Its single orb ominously scans the darkened room. You watch from beneath a large shelving unit, terrified out of your mind. You don’t move, nor do you make a sound, keeping a shaking hand over your mouth.

  Finally, after what feels like hours, the mech stomps away. You let your head fall forward respitefully.

  You know you're nearing your one-way ticket to Earth when you see bright yellow signs plastered on the walls with loud black alien words telling you to hurry left with the help of large arrows. Escape pod symbols, accompanied by a funny little robot mascot, are the giveaway. You feel a sort of giddy euphoria swell up within you. You're almost there. You're going to escape. You're going to go home. It all seems far too good to be true; sure, you’ve imagined this scenario happening over and over again, but you never really did believe it would happen.

  You pinch your arm multiple times just to make sure you aren’t dreaming. This is not in your head. This is happening. You really are going back to Earth.

  Your collar suddenly vibrates. And then it starts to screech.

  You nearly jump out of your own skin. The alarm is loud, piercing, and undeniably going to alert someone to your presence. You slam your fists against it multiple times, but it doesn’t let up. Your heart sinks when the realization of what's going on hits.

  Shit. He put a tracker in it.

  You need to run. You shove yourself forward into a full-on sprint, dashing down the last remainder of this hallway, then turning the corner and seeing the numerous escape pods all lined up in the wall. You choose the first one, grabbing the edge of the circular door and pulling with all of your might. The tendons in your neck strain as you grunt and slowly bring the door back with you. Clamoring in, you give it one last heave before it shuts on its own and seals you inside. You hear the lock click into place. The entire cabin flickers to life, with the lights on and the control panel booting up. As you expected, everything is far too big for you to reach. But it seems you won’t need to. A loud robotic voice emanates from the central console, speaking to you in the native mech language.

  Your collar is still going off. You don’t have a lot of time.

  “I-I can’t understand you!” you yell over the din. “I’m a human, from Earth! I speak English!”

  The voice pauses. Seconds later, to your amazement, it talks, and you can understand. “Language notifications made. Destination updated. Scanning…” A panel on the ceiling pops open, and a blue light filters out, washing over you. “Scanning complete. Species: Homo Sapien. Homeworld: Earth. Milky Way Galaxy. Status: Critically endangered. Suggesting immediate travel to Earth.”

  You clap your hands. “Yes! Yes, that’s it! Earth, set the destination to Earth!”

  “Destination set. Awaiting command to launch LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01.”

  You are about to give the order when something slams against the door. You whirl around, your heart stuttering when you see who’s there. It’s Drift. He’s made it. And he looks horrified. With trembling fingers, he yanks on the handle. When the pod remains fastly shut, he pounds on the circular window with so much force the entire thing shudders and you think he’s going to rip it right off of its hinges. “Little one!” he screams, voice muffled beyond the barrier of glass. “Little one! Open…!” The rest of the sentence comes out as sharp metal shrieks.

  You stand there helplessly. The pod once again inquires for your command, yet you can’t find it within yourself to speak.

  Drift is doing everything he can to get to you. He’s like a rabid beast, clawing at the window, teeth bared in visible frustration. His biolights are going mad when he roars and sends his whole body into the door. This time, it does give a little. You can see some dents in the gray metal.

  This…is a side of Drift you have never seen. It is desperate, vicious. And it terrifies you. You stumble back to the opposite end of the pod and curl up, hugging your knapsack to your chest like a child squeezing their favorite stuffed animal. Drift continues his futile attack on the door, but pauses when he makes eye contact with you. His face falls. His fists relax and slide downward to press palm against the glass.

  He’s quiet as he seems to reflect on how he just presented himself front of you, then whispers heartbrokenly. “...Sorry.” Tears stream down his cheeks. His hot vexation melts away and exposes his remorseful center. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Little one. Y/N.”

  Oh my god.

  All noise ceases when you register what he just said. Your name. He said your name. He’s never done that before. You didn’t think he knew your name.

  He learned to say it. For you.

  Drift whimpers like a kicked dog, moving to crouch lower. “Y/N. Y/N, please. Stay. Stay with me. Please don’t go. I love you.”

  You’ve changed his life. You don’t need to be told this. You know you’ve brought him a sense of joy he hasn’t felt in years. You didn’t come here of your own free will. But you freely chose to love him. You gave yourself up and became his everything while he became yours. Isn’t he your home? Isn’t he the one who saved you? Can you really leave someone who cares about you so much?

  Your legs move on their own accord. Your heart beats with his and you take tentative steps towards the door. Drift twitters and gives you an encouraging nod, gesturing for you to keep walking.

  Why do you want to leave him so badly? Why would you want to throw away this perfect life?

  Your little human hands come to rest right over his massive robotic ones. You two are separated, but you think you can feel the warmth coming from him. Drift bonks his forehead against the window anticipatingly. “Come on,” he whispers. “Come on. It’s…okay. You're okay. Please.”

  Your hands are human. You will never see another pair again if you return to him.

  Your life is not supposed to be perfect. A human’s life is messy, and disastrous, and chaotic, and beautiful. His life is too, but not in the same way as yours.

  “Goodbye, Drift,” you murmur, voice breaking. “LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01…take me to Earth.”

  The escape pods hums and rumbles. “Command accepted,” it announces. “Preparing ejection in three…two…one.”

  The last thing you see and hear before the pod lurches forward and rockets out of its dock is Drift’s agonized expression and his wrenching wail.

  Your vessel speeds away. You get a fantastic view of the ship in all of its stunning glory. It felt so gigantic when you were inside, but from out here, you can fully comprehend its overwhelming proportions. You watch it rapidly shrink as you gain distance from it, until it's just another speck of light in the universe. And when you can’t even see that anymore, you allow yourself to collapse against the floor eagles-spread. You gaze up at the ceiling, feeling surprisingly hollow. There is no victorious sense of triumph, no excitement to return home. You don’t even know where home is anymore. Somehow, after everything you’ve gone through, you’ve come out even more lost than you already were.

  The waterworks start shortly after the escape pod jumps into hyperspace. Heaving sobs, messy tears, you lie there and weep to the stars, not noticing when your collar finally stops beeping.

[twilghtkoo]

Can you do something where reader and haechan take a playful bubble bath and gossip together using prompts 93 and 88<33

love foolish

pairings. haechan x reader (f)

genre. pure fluff, established relationship

warnings. mostly reader talking and haechan just listening and being love, boobs, not proofread cus i’m lazy

notes. aww i love this request hehe reader and hyuck taking a bath together and just chatting >.< thank u anon for this req!

prompts. #93 “she looked at you like she wanted to jump you” and #88 “you’re driving me crazy here”

prompt list | series masterlist | taglist

—

“only a little bit of soap, haechan.” you remind him once again, with a stern voice. shouting from your closet as you go through haechan’s side for a t-shirt that you can put on after your bath.

you take both your change of clothes and walk back to the bathroom. haechan sits on the closed toilet seat, only left in his briefs, carefully watching the tub fill up with hot water as the bubbles from the soap slowly rise. you spot the colors green and blue paint the water.

haechan glances up at you, spotting your shadow from his peripheral. “i put a bath bomb in.” he answers your thoughts.

you hum approvingly, a small smiling turning the corner of your lips upwards when haechan smiled self-proudly.

soon the water is at a good level and haechan has already stripped naked and stepped into the water, waiting for you. you stand in front of the tub, taking haechan’s hand that’s stretched out for you to take as he safely guides you inside. he occupies the end of the tub, his back against the cool tile wall, legs spread for you to sit in-between.

“holy shit, this feels fucking amazing.” you moan once your body from the neck down is submerged in the hot water. haechan’s hands are quick to wrap around your bare waist under water, rubbing your sides soothingly. all previous stress and tension in your body has now left your body as you welcome in the therapeutic warmth.

he chuckles from behind, leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

“that sounds familiar,” he thinks out loud, smirking.

“what do you mean?”

“pretty sure you said those exact same words when you rode me for the first time.” he recalls.

your head drops down and you scoff. “oh my god, haechan.” pursing your lips to fight the laugh that almost came out. he sure knows how to ruin a moment.

“hehe, sorry.” he softly mumbles an apology.

you lean yourself up away from haechan’s chest, going to the other side of the tub so you and him are facing each other.

you grin to yourself, sitting on your legs and gathering a handful of the white bubbles that float atop.

he watches you with admiration and love, allowing you to put the mountain of bubbles on top of his dry head.

“how do i look?”

you blink, “beautiful.”

he scoffs, dropping his head as he cutely smiles.

“what should we eat for dinner?” you ask, your focus mostly on the tower of bubbles you’re building.

he hums, “we have those left overs from lunch. but if you don’t want that i can make you something else.” he suggests, he knows how you feel about leftovers and how you think the taste isn’t the same once it leaves the restaurant. which is why you always try to finish your food, but today, you just woke up not hungry.

“speaking of lunch earlier . . .”

haechan decided to join you and help you build your bubble tower, he hums in response, letting you know he’s listening. the top of his head is slightly damp from the bubbles.

“the girl who took our order and stuff . . . you know the waitress?” you trail off, glancing up at him to watch his facial expressions.

“uh huh,”

you slightly pout from the lack of responses.

your hands stop and now you’re just watching him.

“did you notice anything?” you ask cautiously.

his hands stop mid air, the slightly growing bubble tower has now reached the height to where your heads are.

he squints his eyes, his lips turned downwards, a habit you noticed when he’s thinking.

he shakes his head, “no, notice what?”

you let out a sigh as a response.

“vent to me baby,” he lightly chuckles, assuring you to speak what's on your mind.

you groan, face palming because if haechan didn’t even notice it then why is it bothering you so much. you decide to continue adding height to the silly tower to avoid from catching haechan’s reaction.

“when we went to lunch together, i think the waitress recognized you and she was definitely flirting with you. right in front of me!” you exclaim, scoffing at the memory again.

you and haechan went out to eat earlier today for lunch, choosing somewhere where we thought was pretty secluded, and it sort of was.

“i swear i saw her try to reach to touch your arm, and she was all heart eyes staring at you. i was almost about to throw up. not to mention, she wasn’t even looking at me when i was telling her my order. rude, right?”

he nods, “definitely.” he says firmly.

“thank you!” with big eyes and your hands thrown out in front of you as you rant, cutting your creation in half on accident as it slowly floats in the air to haechan’s side.

"she looked at you like she wanted to jump you!"

he can’t help but burst out laughing at your frustration about the situation. you can say he was pretty oblivious about the waitress flirting with him, because he was focused on you mostly. recalling how there was an eyelash sitting beneath your cheekbone while the lady was collecting your order. how your fingers were fidgeting with the corner of the menu that was already slightly peeling, the skin of your hand looking so smooth and soft under the natural light seeping through the window.

haechan leans back, taking his arms out from the water to relax on the edge of the tub. soap suds resting on his skin.

you’re still pouting, thinking about the situation and how the girl had the nerve to blatantly flirt with your boyfriend in front of you. in your head, you were saying things that your non-confrontational ass would never say to someone.

you stare at haechan, "you think she knew who you were?" you ask with slightly raised eyebrows.

he shakes his head. "i don't think so, don't worry." he assures you.

you jump in your spot which makes haechan flinch in surprise, eagerly leaning forward, your mouth forming an 'o' shape. "one of my classmates stole my pen today!" you gasped.

haechan covers his mouth with his hand, dramatically gasping, matching your energy. "no," he reacts.

you nod your head, "yes! i just remembered. that fucker." you mumble the last part to yourself.

he bites his lip to hold back his smile. "is it the gel pen with the 0.5 point?"

"yes, my favorite pen."

"don't you have a whole pack in your desk?" he harmlessly asks, just out of pure curiosity.

you cock an eyebrow, "who's side are you on?"

haechan stretches his hands towards you quickly. "yours, baby. yours. that fucker should've gave back your pen. doesn't he know we are in the middle of an inflation?" he scoffs.

"and like, yeah, i use my ipad to take notes but i use my pen for handwritten notes and my planner. i should've lied and said i didn't have a pen. ugh- this is what happens when i'm nice to people." you stress before shaking your head, scooting closer to your boyfriend.

“you do have nice pens,” he says absent mindedly. “i probably would’ve kept it too.”

your face is deadpan as you stare at haechan, then you let out a deep sigh. “i love you, haechan.”

he smiles back, “i love you too.”

shaking your head. "we’re never going to that restaurant again and from now on i don’t have pens. let me wash your hair?" you're already grabbing his shampoo and squirting some into your hand before he can answer.

he doesn't push you away, reveling in this moment and enjoying the way the pad of your fingers are massaging his scalp. how your sitting on your knees in between his open legs, your breasts are aligned with his vision and it's like he turned into a kid who was given an ipad.

his impulsive thoughts win and it's too late because his large hands are already kneading your chest. "they're so squishy." he blurts out, making you roll your eyes. you won't lie and say that the ministrations of his hands felt so good you felt like the soap suds that melt down your body.

"your hands feel nice." you admitted, reaching behind him to grab the shower head and turn on the water to wash the shampoo out.

his head snaps up to look at you. "really? feels nice?"

simply nodding your head, ignoring his eyes on you. his hand movements slow down, he starts to slowly palm your breasts.

"stop this is supposed to be just us taking bath." you whine, turning off the water.

he giggles, "it is."

"not when you're doing that on purpose." you accuse him, laughing along with him because you're familiar with his tricks and you already know where this is headed.

"what am i doing?" he asks with a playful innocent voice.

"you're driving me crazy here." you huff out.

-

taglist @neosdaisy @m_1kaellUh @n0hyuck @matchahyuck @haesqt @waitcries @ohmyhuenings pls send an ask or message to be removed or fill out the form to join! :D

[fandomnerd9602]

It all started when she was wounded in a firefight with the Brotherhood of Steel. Lucy McLean couldn’t stop the bleeding, no matter how many stimpaks she injected.

You ran to your companions aid with your own loyal canine Dogmeat by your side. "dammit Lucy" you muttered as you shot another brotherhood member before trying to stop the bleeding.

"go" she tried to beg, "I'm just dead weight"

"not an option, vault dweller" you say back as you carry her in your arms to a nearby vertibird. Good old Dogmeat jumps into the copilot's seat as you pilot the aircraft.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asked rather weakly.

“Haven” you answered back.

You met Lucy rather recently. You were kind enough and caring compared to most people in the Wasteland. All she knew was that you were a fellow survivor and that you had recently left your home in search of supplies. You never told her where you were from.

Lucy woke up to a sound she never thought she’d ever hear: the gentle lull of the ocean. This vault dweller found herself in a small oceanside open aired bungalow. The walls were adorned with old posters with a magnificent view of a crystal blue ocean. The bed she found herself in was clean and pristine. Dogmeat was laying next to her bed, wagging his tail at seeing Lucy recovering nicely.

“Glad you’re feeling better“ you give a small smile from a nearby chair. “It was touch and go for awhile but I’m glad you’re doing well”

“I’m dead”

You chuckle, “no you’re not.”

“What is this place? I mean it’s perfect and untouched by-“

“It’s sort of a bubble” you explained. “Completely safe from the fallout”

A little parrot landed on a nearby branch. Lucy was absolutely floored. Life has found a way thrive on this spec of land. The whole island was rich with floral and fauna, an untapped paradise. The island itself was roughly the size of Maui.

“How did you find this place?” Lucy looks around in amazement.

“I grew up here.” You bring her a pic of your own parents. “I head out to gather supplies and my parents…they didn’t make it”

Lucy looked at you, like she was looking in a mirror. Someone who lost a lot and yet was willing to keep going. It wasn’t just about the supplies. She saw you out there, protecting the innocent, stopping the Brotherhood and raiders when lever you could.

“Must get lonely here” she found herself musing.

“You interested in a timeshare?” You asked back with a little smirk.

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe she could set down roots here. With you. With Dogmeat. But the world needed the two of you. Because sadly like the old saying goes:

War. War never changes.

[prodbymaui]

Cliché

darling, you're the one I want.

PAIRING: jeong jaehyun x reader

GENRE: established relationship, college era, fluff, eventual smut, jock!jaehyun, cheerleader!reader

WC: 1.4k+ words

WARNING: dry humping, a bit exhibitionism (?), overstimulation, clothed sex

SYPNOSIS: As a member of the cheerleading squad and as the girlfriend, it was safe to say that it was your job to cheer on the captain of your university's basketball team, Jung Jaehyun. As cliché as it was, you were and will always be his lucky charm that made him win every game. What's more fun than celebrating the win in the locker room?

You sit at the sidelines as you watch yet another game of basketball. It's the semi-finals game so it's understandable that everyone is very eager to win this one. Back then, you were never the one to be actually interested in the ball shooting game. You were only interested in dancing but cheerleading comes with well, cheering.

But all of that changed when you started dating Jeong Jaehyun, the captain of The Growling Tigers. Though, your interest about basketball didn't changed that much, there's surely a difference. You used to focus only at the scores but now, you're constantly worrying for your boyfriend's safety, making sure to cheer him up everytime he fails to shoot the ball-- which rarely happens.

And right now, you're doing exactly just like that. Hands together, eyes shining and lips pursed as you watch Jaehyun run around the court, shouting and gesturing to his team members. You noticed that ever since the game started, Jaehyun's distracted to the core.

Last minutes 'til the game ends. In your mind, you're praying that Jaehyun would focus a bit more, wanting and eager for a win as well. Completely oblivious to the fact that you are the reason why he was so distracted.

Jaehyun curses under his breath as his eyes diverts once again to you. You and that little tight costume of yours. The upper part hugs your waist and busts so well, it shows almost all the beautiful parts that he loves about you.

And that skirt, oh that skirt. It exposes those juicy thighs that he craves to be in between all the time. He licks his lips thinking about all the things he would do to you once this game ends.

''Jaehyun!'' A shout from Mark pops his little bubble. Just as he turns to the voice, he sees the ball coming towards him. Thanks to his fast reflexes, he catches the ball and run to the other side of the court before making his shoot.

The audience roars as Jung Jaehyun scores a 2-pointer just before the buzzer went off. Growling Tigers wins against Blue Eagles with one point, and the entire team couldn't help but to carry their captain because of that.

Jaehyun laughs, tapping the back of Taeyong so they can put him down. You quickly run towards your boyfriend, jumping on his waiting arms as you two spin around. ''Congrats, captain! I knew you'd win!'' You squealed, hugging him tighter.

He put you down and settles his hands on your waist. ''Of course, all thanks to my lucky charm here,'' Jaehyun grins, cupping your cheeks before lightly pinching them.

You two shares a few heartwarming words and interactions, something that makes the audience swoon by how sweet you two are.

Taeyong swings an arm around Jaehyun's shoulders, ''Okay, lovebirds, time's up! Can I borrow our captain for a sec?''

You nod and gives him a thumbs up, saying that you'll be with your squad. Jaehyun bids you a temporary goodbye with a sweet kiss on your lips and your forehead.

''Hey, you,'' Your voice echoes the room as you lean to the locker beside Jaehyun's. He cracks a smile, ''Hi, beautiful,'' He whispers, grabbing you by the waist before planting a kiss on your lips. You bring your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him impossible closer.

''What's up with you earlier?'' You asks, twirling a few strand of Jaehyun's brown locks. ''We won, that's what up,'' Jaehyun replies with a grin which makes you shake your head.

''You look like you weren't yourself,'' You whispers with a hint of worry.

''Am I?'' Jaehyun questions.

He's always like that. Answering your question with a question, making you think more than you should. But you know he will eventually tell you. He always does.

''Come on, cap. Tell me,'' You insists.

Jaehyun chuckles. He says nothing as those sinful hands of his travels down your body. You yelp when he grabs your thigh and pushes you to the locker, the other staying on your waist to keep you still. He buries his head on your neck while he presses his clothed cock to your pussy.

''Feel that, baby?'' He asks. Nodding, you hold on to his shoulders, feeling your legs go weak. Jaehyun grinds down, all the rubbing brings a friction that makes you wet. You let out heavy breaths, closing your eyes to feel more of Jaehyun.

''You and that devilish skirt of you, love. You wanted me to be distracted, don't you? Of course, you did. You're a brat enough to want my attention directed only to you.'' He whispers harshly, grinding harder.

''Fuck, daddy..'' Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the friction is too good. The lack of sex makes you so desperate of pleasure and feeling this after such a long time, you couldn't help but bite your lips.

You hold on to him tighter as you decide to meet his hips halfway, grinding more feverishly and clumsily. Letting out a few ah's with each grind. Your face scrunches, moans getting louder and louder.

You hear Jaehyun laugh mockingly, ''Cum, love.'' That was what he says before you feel yourself coming. You didn't even know you're reaching your climax already. It was no surprise, Jaehyun knows your body more than you do.

He quickly makes a move to take off your cycling and panties, kneeling down as spread your legs and settles his face between them. He places a kiss on your clit for a second before dipping tongue on your wet cave. Groaning as he tastes your sweet juice, sliding up his tongue, craving for more.

You bunched a handful of Jaehyun's hair, not knowing whether to pull him away or push him deeper into you. You let out a moan when you felt Jaehyun sucking your clit while his fingers wiggle their way inside you. Jaehyun is eating you out so good that your head falls back, making a sound of clashing as it makes contact with the locker.

With the way Jaehyun is licking and sucking up on you like a starved man, and the lovely aftershocks of your previous orgasm; you felt your legs wobble, grabbing anything you can grab, holding on for you dear life as you violently shake, squirting your juices on Jaehyun's face that he made effort to catch all of it.

''2 down,'' Jaehyun whispers with a smile as he comes up to you for a kiss, giving you a mixture of his and your taste. He hooks you leg on you elbow, lifting it up while his other hand mounds your breasts even with your costume on the way.

You gasps as you felt his bare hard shaft sliding on you pussy but not entering you just yet. You didn't even notice him taking out his cock, too caught up in the pleasure.

Jaehyun proceeds to place marks on your neck, sucking at the spot before licking them to ease the light pain. ''Jae, please,'' You pleads, looking at him with your teary eyes and God, Jaehyun looks fucked out more than you do.

He groans, losing the little patience he have. He presses you further against his locker and finally, thrusting his girthy dick inside you. You both moan with the long-awaited pleasure, leaning in for a kiss as Jaehyun didn't waste anytime to search for his pace.

Your eyes widens when you hear footsteps nearing you, scrambling to take Jaehyun off of you but it was no avail. ''Shh, baby,'' Jaehyun urgently tells you, putting a hand over your mouth but not making an effort to stop thrusting.

You almost lost balance when Jaehyun picks up his pace and changes his angle, hitting the exact spot that makes you see stars. Your sound of shock and pleasure escapes Jaehyun's cover, echoing the room.

''Shit,'' Jaehyun curses under his breath, knowing someone will check up on you anytime soon because of what was heard. He bites your clothed nipple lightly, nibbling on them as he works your way up to climax. His thrusts becomes erratic and his eyes rolls back just like yours, desperate.

It didn't took you both a minute to reach your peak, Jaehyun hugging your waist tightly with a hand as he balances the both of you. ''We need to--'' You got cut off when a voice starts to talk.

''I don't think Jae's here, man''

''Check the lockers. He needs to be at the dinner party, it's our celebration and he's our cap.''

And then the footsteps becomes near and near, making you two scramble to fix yourselves. Jaehyun takes a last kiss from you before facing Mark who's obviously confuse as to what you were doing there but didn't question any further.

Your sheepish smiles gives the activity away though.

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late To Dream ༓ jjk (m) I Ch. VIII (final)

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 8,618

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), first kiss, painting date, taehyung makes oc a busi proposal, jk goes back to teaching at uni, cute note, therapy with therapist!hoseok, talk of absent parents, insecurities, fear of fatherhood, jk working through personal struggles and gets clarity, jk being good hubby to oc, sexual content

sexually explicit warnings: switch!jungkook, switch!reader, f*ngering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (be safe everyone!), cussing d*rty talk, penetration, b**b sucking, biting, multiple org*sms, m*ssionary;legs on shoulder, body worshipping, praise kink, impreg kink, slight lactation kink, making out in the kitchen, suggestive morning shower s*x, Kook just wanna please oc really 🥺

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: This is now the most I have ever written....ngl the therapy section will be DENSE( but i tried not to make it TOO long) 😪 anyway, we have come to the end folks 😭 thank you to all of you who have stayed with me through this whole series. It's close to my heart and always will be. I'm happy to be able to share this with you all 💞

<< ch. VII ༓┃series masterlist

Kissing you is his favorite pastime. On the lips, on your cheeks, neck–everywhere and anywhere you'll let him. He loves how squeamish it makes you. Out of all the times Jungkook's kissed you, his favorite will always be the first time in that tiny art studio of yours at your old apartment.

You didn't have much living space but you made do with what you had. And what you had was one extra room near the laundry machines.

He'll always remember how gentle your lips were against his that night. Warm as well, yet reserved. You made his whole body come to life in the most unexplainable ways.

4 years ago–

Jungkook slouches on the stool with a pout on his face and a paintbrush spinning between his fingers. This is the third time he's called you over in the last ten minutes. You've told him repeatedly that painting takes patience but it doesn't seem to make him feel any better about his artwork.

"Can you come look at this __? I don't think this is coming out the way it's supposed to be."

"Here," you set your drawing pencils on your own art desk and circle around to him, "let me see."

Jungkook scootches his stool to the side, allowing you to peer over his shoulder.

"To start, you’re using too much water if your paper is peeling and curling this much. I'd give it a few minutes before doing anything more on it. Secondly, you have water bubbles."

You reach for the blue painting sponge next to him and hold it up as if showcasing it off.

"This is going to be your best friend. It absorbs liquid so if you gently dab areas with excess water, it'll take all that water away." You demonstrate for him then hand the sponge to him. "Give it a try."

"Okay…" He takes it from you and mirrors your movements. "Isn't this called watercolor painting though? How can I be using too much water?"

You shrug. "Because it's like anything. You need to find the right balance between the paint and water or else it'll make your strokes messy. Control the need to soak your brush."

"But I like soaking my brush," he says, tongue in cheek.

"I'm going to ignore that you said that."

"You said it first."

"Not like you meant it, I didn't."

Jungkook smiles and continues dabbing his painting.

"You're pressing a little too hard Kook. The paint's smudging," you warn as he attempts to clean up the extra water spillage.

"Hm?" He doesn't seem to understand what you mean.

"It's like this," you say, carefully closing a hand over his knuckles. Jungkook's hand goes limp in yours as you guide his movements across the water bubbles. "See, the water's gone now."

When you gaze down at him, he's not paying attention to the artwork at all but to you instead.

"Someone I'm hoping to call my girlfriend soon," he mumbles back and you release your hold from his hand.

"Jungkook?" He feels you tense under his stare, eyes restlessly shifting back and forth. "What are you looking at?"

"Oh, well, um—" your mind races with what to respond. Up until now, you’ve been seeing each other for a month but no labels have been placed on your relationship yet.

"I'd really like to know what it'd be like to kiss you too.” He sets the sponge on the table and slowly leans forward to rise from his seat.

Naturally, you step backward but forget about the second art table set up directly behind you. Your hands grip the edges at the sudden contact on your backside.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I don't mean to make you feel pressured." His fingers reach out to lightly rest on your trembling hands. “I’ve just been having the best time getting to know you this past month and I’d like it if we could keep going out…as a couple.”

“I’d like that too.” You swallow thickly. “I think you caught me off guard but yeah, let’s make this official. And also, if you want, we can—kiss."

"Are you sure?" He needs to know he heard right, careful not to jump the gun. “Really sure?”

"Yes. Please kiss me.”

With your consent, Jungkook grips your hands tighter and closes his mouth over your lips. They're sweet and taste a bit like peppermint from the candy you ate earlier. He moves slowly at first, tongue swiping across the seam of your lips every now and then until you let him in.

"Jung–" you breathe a small moan yet it's only when you break apart that you're able to finish saying his name. “–Kook.”

"I liked that," he says, a smile on his face. "Any chance we can do it again?"

You nod and lean forward to kiss him again. This time firmer, holding back nothing.

Present–

"Honey, you should go back to bed for a bit. Get some more sleep." You watch your husband button up his navy blue dress shirt in the mirror. Today's the day he has to return to the university for the new academic year and he needs to be out the door within the next ten minutes.

"I have to get used to you leaving before me," you yawn. "I'll miss you."

Jungkook runs his fingers through his damp hair, fluffing it up some before striding over to your lounged position on the bed.

"Me too. I'm going to be thinking of you all day." He bends down to peck your lips. When he does, you take in the scent of his aftershave–Old Spice. "I'll see you when we get home, okay?"

You nod. "You home at 4 tonight?"

"Plus traffic so 4:30 at the latest.”

"Okay, I should get home at 5:15. Mondays are a bit hectic so it might be later. I'll text you."

He gives you another kiss, longer than the last, and you moan lazily.

"Sounds good," he stands up straight and snatches his phone from the nightstand. "I need to head out now but I'll see you later. Love you!"

Jungkook opens your bedroom door and you shut your eyes to get more sleep before having to start the daily grind yourself.

With about thirty minutes to spare Jungkook rushes to his office with his leather satchel. He doesn't remember the room being as bare as it is when he tosses the door open–only his desk, PhD, and some books left on the shelf. He hasn't been here since the end of June so granted, I'd be pretty dead in the room.

But there's not even one photo of you.

That's going to be the first thing to change, he mentally

notes. Right now, however, he needs to prep for his lecture that’s in—he checks his watch—shit.

Twenty-eight minutes.

Jungkook shoves his satchel on the bulky mahogany desk and swivels into his office chair. "Damn," he curses and re-adjusts in his seat. "Since when was my chair this uncomfortable to sit in?'

He shakes it off and pulls out his notes. A tiny blue sticky note falls out as he sorts the mix.

'Deep breaths today Dr. Jeon ;)! It's your first day again and I know you're always so hard on yourself :( But your new students will love you I'm sure. So keep yourself in good spirits and remember I'm only a phone call away. I love you and I can't wait to hear about your day when you get home tonight! <3'

He reads the message again, then again, and one last time for good measure.

Jungkook sticks the note on the surface of his desk, next to his computer where he can view it easily. He then goes back to reviewing his notes for his lecture, feeling a giggle creep up his throat; he really fricken' loves you.

Well, his first class of the day was a complete disaster. The first twenty minutes consisted of him having to troubleshoot technical errors between his laptop and the projector. His students weren’t chipper either, preferring silence when he tried striking up a conversation. And the worst part? They didn’t laugh at his jokes! Like at all. Usually, he’d at least get one or two chuckles, even if they were merely out of politeness.

It was when he ended the class half an hour early that he earned a few brownie points. Thankfully he’s not a lecture on the first day kind of professor. Still, with any luck, the semester will get better and the remainder of his sections today will be smoother.

"Dr. Jeon," a low voice rumbles down the hallway as Jungkook returns to his office. He whips his head to his left to see Taehyung taking long strides towards him.

"Dr. Kim," Jungkook responds to the greeting. "What are you doing in the School of Business?"

"Just wanted to stop and say hi. I got a studio art class to teach soon but thought I'd check in with my favorite economist first.” Taehyung stuffs his hands in the pockets of his silk trousers and follows Jungkook into his office.

"My wife isn't here Tae," Jungkook teases.

“Isn’t it about time you drop that? Yes, we had a thing back in—"

"It wasn't a thing okay?" Jungkook is eager to correct. Being reminded that his wife and best friend used to hit it off a little too well back in the day makes him queasy. "It was you who kept being obsessed with her. Well, she's mine now. Understand?"

Taehyung laughs. "You need to chill Jungkook. I see the wedding ring loud and clear. Besides, I didn't come here for her alright?" He pauses and wets his lips. "Well actually…there is something I'd like to bring up to you that may involve her."

"Oh, what?" Jungkook's ears are on high alert. What could Taehyung possibly need from you?

"How often is __ painting these days?" Taehyung takes a seat in one of the spare chairs in the room.

"She doesn't have as much time these days due to work, but I know she's got a couple of art projects in the process."

"She's got a pretty big collection though, doesn’t she? Has she ever considered showcasing them off at galleries or selling to collectors?”

“Yeah, I’d say she has roughly eighty finished pieces between drawings and paintings. But she's tried the gallery route before and they've all rejected her work from being showcased. I don't think she wants to pursue it anymore. And as far as selling? Don't think so."

"Hmm." Taehyung taps his fingers on the armrest. "What if it were to be my art gallery? Over the summer I managed to form a minor partnership with that local gallery downtown. Remember, the one I displayed work at years ago when __ was in postgrad? Took a visit down there weeks ago and found out the owner is running low on funds. He's had my art displayed for a while now and I've always wanted to own a gallery. I've no shortage of assets either so I'm taking the plunge to keep it open.”

Jungkook quirks his head to the side with an open mouth and eyes wide as saucers. “You're really part owner of that gallery now? Wow, Tae. I always knew you were a free spirit but damn that's an investment."

"I guess, but hey now that you know. We're looking to expand our collection so how would your cute wife like to show her work? __ is a phenomenal artist and it’s a shame she hasn’t had the opportunity to have it publicly admired. I’d see that her work be approved immediately, of course."

“You're joking,” Jungkook sputters in disbelief. He can't speak for you but he's pretty darn sure you’re going to be absolutely tickled about this.

"I'm being completely serious. Talk to __ about it and see what she thinks." Taehyung checks the time on his phone and stands up from his chair. "Hate to cut this short but I got that class in ten. Let me know what she decides though."

"Yeah, I'll ask her. I—thank you Taehyung. I'm not sure what else to say."

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m happy to do this for her. For you both actually.” Taehyung leaves with a tight-lipped smile, a pep in his step.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Hobi: Hey, sorry for the late reply. Had a couple of last-minute patients to see. I’m happy to hear from you though! If you want to come in for a session I have a slot free late Thursday evening. Other than that we may need to do it next week since I have a pretty full schedule this week.

Oh, that’s right. Jungkook reads over the text. He messaged Hoseok about possibly coming in for a therapy session last night. After telling you about both his apprehension and interest in starting a family, he thinks it is best to get some professional input. And what better person to ask than one of his long-time friends?

JK: I’d really like to meet before I get loaded with papers and tests to grade, if possible. How late on Thursday? I get out of work at 4.

Hobi: I understand. Can you come right after work? Sessions last around forty minutes to an hour.

JK: Sure, I don’t think I have anything to do after that. __ will still be at work. She knows I’m seeing you too, so it’s fine. I’ll see you at 4:15-ish. Your practice isn’t far from here last I remember.

Hobi: Yup, short drive. I’ll put you on the calendar for Thursday afternoon. I’m glad you reached out, Jungkook. I’ve been thinking about you and __ lately. Heard you babysat Yoongi’s twins.

JK: We did.

Hobi: And how was that?

JK: Not bad. I’ll tell you tomorrow though. I’m prepping for another class right now.

Hobi: Got it, I’ll let you go. I’ll see you on Thursday.

JK: Thanks, man!

Jungkook sends a thumbs-up emoji and sets the phone flat on his desk. Well, he sighs, looks like you got yourself an appointment with a shrink.

He doesn’t know what to expect. But what he does know is that he needs to go in with an open mindset. Previous conversations with Hoseok have led him to conclude that it matters what you put into it.

“Therapy isn’t an answer to all your problems,” he recalls Hoseok explain years ago. “Its purpose is to create a space for you to process struggles in your life; triggers even. The goal is for you to better understand the root of those triggers and to find new tools that help you navigate through them. Whenever you are posed with said challenge, you can be better equipped to confront them so you can come out stronger on the other side.”

Jungkook takes a swig of water from his water bottle. He thinks of you as he does–he’s doing this for both of you in hopes that something beautiful might come from it.

At 3:15 Jungkook has his last class. His afternoon students ended up being far more engaging than his morning students. They talked to him casually, asked good questions, and gosh darn it they laughed at his jokes too. They were a great bunch of kids, Jungkook hums. He’s looking forward to walking alongside them this semester.

Before calling it a day and leaving the university, Jungkook decides a brief stroll around campus would be nice. One, it gets fresh air in his lungs and two, he’d really like to stretch his legs before sitting back down in his car.

As he walks through the middle of campus, he smiles at the groups of students rushing with their book bags. It’s a good mix between undergrads and grads. Seeing all of them rush around takes him back to his days of late-night studying at the library and partying with friends on the weekends. He tried not to party too rough but well, he might have been a little too eager to finally be on his own the first year.

He dated around a little too. The chicks at his undergrad were cute and he went out with a few of them. His longest relationship lasted a year but she broke it off with him the last year–she married an architect a year and a half later. No matter though, Sana was a sweet girl and nothing drastic ever happened between them. Hearing that she was getting married made him more happy than sad because she deserved to be with someone great. Plus, if he stayed with her, he would never have met you.

Jungkook stops in his tracks when he spots two students from his 12:15 class standing behind a small outdoor table. They appear to be selling something he can’t quite make out due to the distance.

“Dr. Jeon!” The girl waves when she catches her professor looking in their direction.

Jungkook walks up to the table with a smile. “Mi-suk, Doyun,” he greets each individually. It’s at this point that he’s able to see a dozen frames of sea glass art spread across the table. “Did you guys make these?”

The pair nod in unison. “We went to the beach this summer and found a lot of glass so we decided to do something with it.” Doyun, Mi-suk’s boyfriend, holds up one of the framed pieces that are decorated with green and blue sea glass. “This one is about lovebirds. See the heart that connects them?”

The birds that he refers to are easily seen from the sea glass’s sharp edges and carefully selected clustering. The heart is also made out of sea glass and lays between both birds. It’s a simplistic yet meaningful design.

“We wanted the heart to be interpreted in all kinds of ways from love to new beginnings like–“

“A child.” Jungkook takes the words out of Mi-suk, in a low whisper. “How much?” He digs out his wallet from his back pocket.

“33000 won. ($25 USD).” Doyun responds. “Do you have a child on the way?” Mi-suk jabs her boyfriend in the side at this.

“You don’t have to tell us Dr. Jeon. We don’t want to be nosy.” She laughs it out but Jungkook shakes his head at her.

“It’s no big deal. I’m married but we don’t have a kid at the moment. My wife loves art and she loves sea glass so, I’d like to hang one of these in our home.” He hands over the cash and takes the artwork from Doyun.

“Thank you, Dr. Jeon,” Doyun remains polite and puts the money in the cash box.

“Do you have a picture of her?” Mi-suk asks to which her boyfriend says “Now who’s being nosy?”, earning him another jab to his side.

Jungkook pulls out a small, lightly crinkled photo of you from his wallet. “This is her.” He shows it to them with a proud expression–he enjoys showing you off every chance he gets.

“She’s so beautiful Dr. Jeon! You both look so good together wow.”

“She makes us look good together.” Jungkook chuckles and slides the photo back into his wallet.

“Aww, why don’t you ever say things like that?” Mi-suk turns to her boyfriend who only shrugs.

“Why do I have to be the one to say it? Why can’t you say it?” Doyun moves to fold his arms but Jungkook gives a grimace, hinting him not to follow through. “Sorry babe, I’ll do it more often.”

Young love, Jungkook thinks. “I have to get going now, making dinner before she gets home. But thanks for the sea glass art. I’ll see you both in class on Wednesday.” He waves goodbye and heads for his car.

“He makes dinner for her too…” Mi-suk watches as her professor leaves. “You’ve never made dinner for me.” She shifts her eyes to her boyfriend who’s too busy counting the money they’ve earned so far to see her distraught face.

“Where did you get that?” You point at the new art piece hanging from the wall with your chopsticks. “It’s lovely. Are those birds?”

“Yeah, they’re love birds. A couple of my students were selling seaglass art in the middle of campus. I thought one would look nice on our wall and you like this type of art right?” Your husband takes a bite of the roasted chicken he’s made.

“I do,” you say. “Thank you for bringing one home. How was your first day back at the university?”

“Fine, my morning class is struggling but I’m hoping the energy will pick up as the semester progresses. The afternoon class is good, they seem like a fun bunch. Looking forward to the year. What about you? How was work?”

“Oh, nothing much to tell. I had a meeting with one of our business partners. Went over a series of analytical reports with him, and made suggestions on what they could do to make better-informed business decisions.”

“Yeah? Did they sound like they’d take them?” You giggle when some of the sauce from the chicken smears the corner of his mouth. “What?” he looks at you for an answer.

“Wipe your mouth. There’s sauce all over it.” You hand him a napkin and he cleans himself off. “But back to your question, they seemed receptive to my advice. We’ll see what happens in the next three months though, time will tell if they listened or not.”

“Well,” he swallows down his bite before continuing. “If they have any sense they’ll follow your suggestions. Still, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.”

You nod in agreement. “So, did anything else happen for you today? I really don’t have much else to share other than that. It was a fairly normal day.”

Jungkook sets his chopsticks on his plate and takes a drink of his beer. “There’s a few things I need to talk to you about. Oh, also,” he interrupts his own line of thought, “the note you left me was sweet. I have it on my desk by my computer.”

“I thought maybe you could use some encouragement on your first day so you’re welcome. What do you need to talk to me about?”

“First on the agenda is Taehyung. He stopped by my office and told me that he’s got a partnership with that gallery downtown. The one he displayed his work at years ago when you were in postgrad. Turns out the owner needs financial support so he’s decided to help them out as a part-owner.”

Jungkook sees that you’re just as surprised as he was when he first heard the news. “So he owns that gallery now? That man gets around well. You know that’s something about Taehyung, he’s a good networker. Never have to worry about if he knows someone or not.”

“It’s one of his strengths for sure. Taehyung’s asked me to ask you if you’d be interested in showcasing some of your artwork. He says they’re looking for more artists for their gallery and that he’d like to have your work displayed. What do you think?”

“I–what?” Getting to showcase your art has been one of your biggest dreams since a teenager. But after countless failed attempts to take your art beyond the studio, you’ve nearly given up hope that any galley would accept your pieces. “Are you shitting me Jungkook?”

“I know it’s shocking. Taehyung literally just dropped the bomb on me today and this is 100% real. If you want to get your art out there, Taehyung can pull the right strings to make that happen. Now that I think of it, he didn’t tell me when to get back to him. Probably will need to text him whenever you make your decision I guess.”

“I think I’d love to be able to do that. I don’t even know which ones to show though, I have so many to choose from.”

“I’m sure if you take a week to think it over you’ll be able to narrow down your options. And besides, this doesn’t have tp be the only set of paintings you show off. You can always switch them out from time to time. Taehyung will see that it happens.”

“Damn,” you say. “Kim Taehyung really has the whole world in the palm of his hand huh?” That man has more power in his little toe than all the world’s leaders combined.

“Taehyung is…one of a kind.” Jungkook leans his body forward, arms crossed on the dining table. “There’s a second topic I’d like to talk about too if it’s alright?”

“Shoot.”

“I have a therapy session with Hoseok on Thursday after work. I should be able to get back before 5 p.m. but we might want to order out for dinner that night.” There’s a trace of nervousness as he tells you so you reach out to sneak a hand into one of his.

“That’s fine, I can pick something up on my way home from work. I’m glad he was able to get you in this week.”

Jungkook flickers his eyes down at your hand in his, then back up to your face.“It probably goes without saying but I’m not sure what’ll come from this session. And even if it does go well, I can’t promise that we can start a baby right away. I mean maybe we can, I’m not saying we can’t but–”

“It’s okay Kookie,” you say gently. “This isn’t only about us having a baby or not you know? You’ve had a lot of challenges with your parents that I think Hoseok can help you talk through. I want you to be able to have clarity in those areas of your life too.”

“Thank you __. I love you so much.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it.

“I’m glad you wiped your mouth off before you did that,” you tease, playfully. Jungkook immediately lets go of your hand and gets up to walk to your side of the table.

“Come here smart ass,” he orders, grabbing your face to pepper several kisses on your cheeks.

Draining.

That’s the one word that comes to Jungkook’s mind if he were to sum up the rest of the week. He enjoys teaching at the university but four days in he’s already feeling the stress kinks in his neck.

“Mm.” Jungkook rolls his shoulders back to stretch the tense muscles–it’s a good thing he’s seeing Hoseok today. After getting a good stretch out, he puts his car key in the ignition and heads for the practice downtown.

"Come in, come in," Hoseok greets Jungkook with a beaming smile once he arrives at his office no short of ten minutes later. His room is on the smaller side but it has a harmonious energy with the way the sun peaks through the blinds. "How's your week been?"

Jungkook takes a seat in the large, cozy chair angled across Hoseok. He leans against the back lazily and lets out a long sigh. "It's alright, tiring, but it's to be expected. You?"

"Roughly the same.” Hoseok shuts the door and takes a seat in the chair diagonal to Jungkook. “I’ve had more patients this week than usual which has made me short on time lately. But I'm happy to make time for them."

"Thank you for seeing me this week. I was surprised when you said you could given how full your schedule gets.”

Hoseok waves his hand in dismissal. “Oh, of course, it’s no problem,” he reassures. “I had an opening so that’s why I offered. You and __ are also good friends of mind; I’m more than willing to meet with you today Jungkook. So…why don’t we get started? How was taking care of Yoongi’s rambunctious twins? You’ve taken care of them before right?”

At this, Jungkook sits straight up in his seat, his shoulders back and eyes directly trained on Hoseok. He appears stiff like the tin man from The Wizard of Oz. “Feel free to sit back,” Hoseok lightly suggests. “This isn’t a test or anything so you can relax and get comfortable if you’d like.”

“Okay.” Jungkook follows his friend’s suggestion and sinks into the back of the chair. His hands relax on his spread-out thighs. “So yeah, we’ve taken care of Yoongi’s girl before. Ari and Eun-ji have no shortage of attitude that’s for sure.” He chuckles, then continues. “They’re sweet though. I had this warm, positive energy throughout that whole night. Usually, I never have a strong feeling towards being around kids. It’s always been ‘ah they’re cute but not for me’ or ‘yes hyung, I’ll be fine to take them for a day’ but it wouldn’t go any further. I told __ about it and I think she’s holding onto hope that it means I’m changing my mind about kids.”

“And are you changing your mind? Sometimes those strong emotions will come at specific moments and they can give a false narrative. You and __ have been thinking about a baby recently which may influence these new feelings. But we have to be careful that they don’t blur what you actually want.” Hoseok pauses a second to let Jungkook maul over his words.

“It’s like this,” he continues. “You want to have a baby with her because you love her but last time we met, you said you weren’t sure if you could want it naturally for yourself. Now that you know what the other wants, and you’ve had a picture of what having kids may look like with the twins, you are more welcoming of the idea of starting a family. ‘Maybe it won’t be so bad’, your mind will tell you–‘Maybe this can really happen and I’ll be okay with it’. Meanwhile, your subconscious will say the complete opposite–that you’re pressuring yourself to feel a certain way to get that ideal outcome of giving your wife a baby. Which in turn, makes her happy and gives you security in your marriage and in yourself. I’m not saying this is exactly what’s going on but it’s a possibility to consider. Does this make sense?”

“I get what you’re saying.” Jungkook gives a brief nod. “I’m trying to be careful not to go by my feelings alone or say yes to a child out of pure tolerance of it or a willingness to please my wife. I’ve had some minor hiccups with saying we can have a baby at random times to __ . It’s caused her confusion so I’m more careful to not do stuff like that so casually. But I really am thinking about potentially starting a family so I think my mind really is changing. It’s like I’m 60% there but 40% not there.”

“60% there and 40% not there,” Hoseok repeats. “Could you break those down for me? How did you come to those percentages?”

“Well, I’m 60% because after giving it a lot of thought, I don’t dislike kids so I’m open to having them, any children I’ve been around recently have oddly uplifted my spirits, and I love my wife so if there’s anyone I could have a family with, it’d be with her. I’m 40% not there because I’m afraid I’ll revert back to my previous mindset if said child were to come. I don’t know if I can trust myself.”

“There seems to be a small pattern forming–you being uplifted around children,” Hoseok replies. “Patterns of behavior can be a measurement of progress or lack thereof. If you’ve been repeatedly uplifted around kids that’s something to think about as you sort through the matter of starting a family with __. You can trust yourself more in the conclusions you come to when there is repeated behavior and action to support them. Now as far as you being afraid you’ll revert back to your old self, why did that old Jungkook not want children? Was it a lack of interest in itself or were there external influences?”

“Uh, I guess I wanted to live a life focused on my career. My parents have done the same, but I wanted to do it separately from them. Growing up was always about meeting goals, whether they were academically or socially based. My parents were pretty absent from my life outside those frames. I couldn’t know them up close, like a healthy parent-child relationship. So when I grew up the thought of having children disinterested me. I’m happy for people who have kids but I didn’t see myself in a parenting role myself. I wasn’t fit for it either, so why have a child that I can’t properly take care of? I’d do better focusing on my career and maybe having a partner when the time came. That was my mindset.”

“It starts as disinterest and shifts to inadequacy,” Hoseok thinks a moment as he processes the explanation. The wheels turn in his head as he sorts through the information disclosed to him. “Jungkook,” he slowly starts. “Do you see yourself as naturally insecure? It seems like this different life you are describing works well for you and you’re comfortable with it, partly due to how you were raised. So the thought of something new coming into your life, like a baby, risks flipping your life upside down. You’re in turn, left vulnerable and scrabbling for what the proper course of action is. This leads to my next question–do you have a fear of becoming like your parents?”

“I suppose I do, but I never put that much weight into it before because I always thought I’d do better than them. And for the most part, I have. When it comes to raising a child though, the potential of following their lead still frightens me.”

“Given the environment you grew up in, that's completely understandable. Unfortunately, your parents didn’t raise you as a child but more of an employee or predecessor that only adds to their self-value. If it’s any encouragement, you being aware that they raised you poorly and successfully becoming a person that doesn’t embody their harmful traits means you will likely not end up like them. So you can be at ease, Jungkook. You’ll raise your children with a healthy mindset–separate from your parents.”

“Just to clarify, hyun–Dr. Jung, you’re saying that I've been against having a child because I’m worried I’ll lose my comfortable lifestyle; my security in other words. And because I’m scared to become my parents which shouldn’t be a fear because I know what they did was wrong?” Jungkook struggles to wrap his mind around the logic.

“It’s alright that you still have that apprehension Jungkook, the fear of following in your parent’s footsteps. I’m suggesting that it won’t happen because you’ve become a person who actively repulses those poor choices that they’ve made. So if you were to have a child, the chances of them being raised as you were is significantly low. Also, you wouldn’t be raising the child alone. __ will be there with you every step of the way and all of us who have been your friends for ages will be more than willing to help you too. Yoongi and Seokjin been fathers for years so they’ll be the first ones to offer a proper hand.”

“So wait, does this mean I’m ready to be a parent then? Because I see your point and it’s starting to make sense. I think I am leaning towards being one but I'm unsure if I can have a child right away. __ won’t say it but I think she’ll want to get pregnant fairly soon if I agree to having a baby. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“It’s still up to you to decide if you’re ready or not, Jungkook.” Hosoek clears his throat, leaning forward in his chair. “Here’s what I’m saying. Your aversion to having kids doesn’t seem like a mere disinterest in kids. It’s more of an insecurity in yourself that you can work through with some help. Plus, part of you wants a child because you’ve had positive experiences with them recently. I believe, with all the factors we've discussed, you will be able to better understand the source of your hesitation and openness toward starting a family. This will help you make a clearer decision on the matter instead of holding yourself back from one based on previous misconceptions–”

“So that’s it then,” Jungkook interrupts as if enlightened. “I actually do want a baby, generally speaking. I’ve just been looking at the whole issue the wrong way, holding myself back and such.”

“Uh okay, slow down there,” Hoseok eases. “You don’t have to make the decision to have a baby right away. I’m glad you’re beginning to understand your situation more but for now, let’s talk more about this subject okay?”

Jungkook nods in agreement and continues his session with Hoseok for another half hour. He feels good by the end, so good that he schedules another meeting with him next week.

And yeah, he thinks he really does want that baby. When he gets home he’s going to wrap you in his arms and tell you all about it.

Jungkook finds you on the living room couch when he gets home. Your legs are tucked underneath you as you scroll on your phone. You're out of your work clothes and have a plain t-shirt and shorts on instead.

"Hey," you greet your husband. "How was it?"

Your husband rushes to sit beside you, the cushion bouncing due to his eagerness. He proceeds to tell you everything that Hoseok said, from his inner struggles with his parents to his own insecurities with fatherhood. By the end of his spiel, you're delighted that your husband's gotten helpful insight but are in utter shock as well.

"I–wow I'm blown away at how good seeing Hosoek was for you. I knew he'd help you a ton being who he is but I wasn't expecting you to be this enthusiastic to talk about babies." You let out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, nothing's funny. I need a minute to process everything, that's all."

You head to the kitchen for a glass of water. Jungkook follows behind you.

"You know...we met at a time that a child wasn't really in the cards, but now we're at a place that I think it could work," he says. "Hoseok helped me understand my hesitation and openness towards starting a family. And by the end, the thought of having a baby excited me more than scared me because we'll be doing it together."

"Are you–Junkook, are you really serious about all this?" You lean against the kitchen counter with a glass in your hand. "This a big step for us and I don't want you to have to make a quick decision. I know it was me who brought up having a family first, so it's no problem if we need to take more time to–"

"I want to do this with you __." Jungkook walks over to you and takes the cup from your hand to set it on the countertop. He then folds his hands over yours. "Nothing would make me happier than having a baby together. You still want to, don't you?"

"I do," you swallow hard and stare into his loving eyes. A small smile creeps on your face when the reality of the situation hits you–you're actually going through with this; you're going to start a family.

"So..." Jungkook drawls, inching his body closer to you.

"So, what?"

"So don't take your birth control tomorrow if you don't want to." He drops your hands at that in favor of cupping your cheeks instead, bringing you into a passionate kiss. You moan when the kiss deepens and you feel his muscular body press you further against the counter.

"Not in the kitchen," you mumble between kisses.

"Could be fun though," Jungkook smirks and brings his hands around your waist, lifting you up on the surface. Experience tells you to wrap your arms and legs around him so you do. And when he goes back for another kiss, he makes sure to bite on your bottom lip so he can slip his tongue in your mouth.

"Mhph–" you moan when his hands slip underneath your shirt, dragging it up until you lift your arms for him to take it off. He moves to your neck next, placing several open-mouth kisses on the delicate skin that is sure to turn into bluish-purple hickeys in the morning. "Jungkook," you tug his hair roughly.

Your husband grunts at the gesture and traces his fingers along your bare skin until they find the delicate band of your bra. He unclasps the material in seconds, leaving your nipples pebbling from the cool air.

"Is it too soon for me to say I can't wait until these are lactating?" He cups the swell of your breasts and circles his thumbs over your hardened buds. You mewl at the touch, arousal already collecting between your thighs.

"They'll be for the baby," you reply. "Not you."

Jungkook growls immediately and brings his mouth over a breast. The relentless sucking and licking makes you throw your head back in pleasure. He moves to your other breast after his teeth tug at your nipple a few times, repeating the process all over again. "Fuck–" you yelp when one of his tugs gets a little too harsh.

"Shit, I'm sorry baby." He draws his teeth back and starts licking the bud soothingly. "Feel better?"

"Mm," you whine. "Need more, please."

Jungkook knows exactly what you're asking for so he gives your nipples one last lick each, then pecks your lips. His sturdy arms lift you off the counter next and carries you into the bedroom where he lays you on the bed.

"Just a second," he says. You nod and watch him yank his shirt over his head, revealing his toned body. It's always sexy to see him taking his clothes off like this, you think to yourself. He removes his pants; leaving his briefs on, then climbs on the bed with you. "You're so effortlessly beautiful you know that? I'm gonna make you feel good tonight baby," he promises and plants gentle kisses down your abdomen.

You raise your butt a little when he starts peeling your shorts and underwear off. "Fuck, I didn't know you could get this wet," he comments, spreading your thighs apart so he can comfortably sit between them. A single finger drags up your slit, a moment after and you buck your hips at the suddenness. "How many fingers do you want? Or do you want to skip to my tongue eating you out? I'll do whatever you tell me, baby."

You moan hearing the last part. Jungkook is always quick to please. "Both, please. Your fingers and mouth," you say, gripping the sheets in preparation.

At your word, Jungkook slowly pushes a finger into your wet pussy. The initial squelch gives both of you pleasure; a shiver runs down your spine and Jungkook's underwear tightens.

"Oh god," you moan when a second finger slides next to the first one, both curling inside you just right. "One more, need one more." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you two more times, then adds a third.

"Like it?" he asks, fingers moving faster in you. "Feeling good?"

"Yes, fuck–keep going Kook."

Jungkook continues pumping his finger inside you, carefully watching you bite your lip as he does. He loves seeing you like this–getting so fucked out over his fingers. "Shit–" he grunts and leans his head between your thighs when he sees some of your pearly white liquid drip down your thighs and onto the bed sheets.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you repeat, nearly breathless as your husband starts licking a long stripe across your sex. He removes his fingers before doing it again, allowing him to dip the tip of his tongue into your folds ever so slightly. "I think I'm about to come," you warn and claw at his luscious hair with one hand.

Jungkook takes this as the perfect time to start sucking your clit, biting it teasingly until you finally have your first orgasm of the night. When he lifts his head from your pussy, his mouth and chin are both glistening with your cum. "I love eating you out," he says, using his arm to wipe his mouth and chin, "You always taste like fucking candy. And you have no idea how turns on it makes me to see you enjoying it just as much."

"I'm pretty sure I can take a good guess," you reply, eyeing his obvious erection. "Want me to suck you off?" You move to slide the band of his briefs down but he stops the movement.

"Not tonight baby," he says. "I really just want to fuck you now."

"You sure?" you ask again but he only gets off the bed and removes his underwear. His hard cock smacks against his abdomen when he does, making your pussy clench around nothing.

"Missionary?" Jungkook crawls back on the bed and guides you on your back before throwing your legs over his shoulder. "Heard this angle is good for making babies." He winks and you laugh at his sudden playfulness.

"Kook, you know it'll be a few months before I'll be able to get pregnant right? Since I've been on birth control for years?"

"Well, I guess we're getting a head start then." Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you flirtatiously then slowly sinks the tips of his length into your pussy until bottoming out.

"Oh fuck," you both moan in unison at the familiar stretch. You and Jungkook have had a lot of sex over the years but not like this; this is a whole new experience.

"You're gonna make such a pretty mama," he coos, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of you. You feel the pressure in your core start to build at the simple comment. "You want me to make you round with our child don't you?"

"Yes–please, I want it so bad."

"My poor baby." Jungkook quickens his pace, pulling his cock out before slamming back in. Every thrust is rougher than the last, leaving you in a moaning mess as your body bounces up and down on the mattresses. "Gonna give you as many as you want now okay? Gonna fill this pussy up so good."

"Kook!" You scream and clench uncontrollably around him as he continues fucking you at what you can only call an animalistic pace. His hair is messy, body sweating, and his teeth are clamped together in sheer pleasure.

"Fuck!" He lets out another loud groan, his tatted hand clinging onto your legs while the other presses down on your stomach. "Look at you taking me so well," he praises. "Always so good for me or do you really want a baby that bad hm? Talk to me baby, tell me how it feels having your guts rearranged."

"It–" you can barely speak as his cock beats into you messily, his balls slapping against your asscheeks as he does. "It feels so good, shit! Don't stop!" You claw the sheets, desperate to cling onto something.

"Yeah? You want me to keep fucking you like this?" He pushes down on your stomach a little more. The added pressure makes it so you can feel his cock even more.

"Oh god, oh god fuck–" your eyes roll to the back of your head as your pussy starts spasming from all the thrusting. "So close, I'm so close Jungkook..."

"I can tell baby," he grunts. "You're squeezing me so tight but you're also so fucking wet. Come whenever you're ready okay? I'm going get us both there."

The next thirty seconds to a minute consists of Jungkook snapping his hips and several of your broken moans echoing off the walls of your bedroom. Finally, after a series of long, hard thrusts, you both reach your peak and have your release.

"I love you so much," Jungkook lets go of your legs and moves to straddle you. His elbows come up on either side of your head as he leans in for a kiss.

"I love you too," you mumble and card your fingers through his hair. "You're going to make a wonderful father Kook."

"Only because of you," he whispers before capturing your lips in simultaneously the most fiery and sweet kiss you've ever shared.

"What time is it?" You lazily throw an arm around your husband but to your dissatisfaction, it slips off him and hits the mattress instead. He's getting up for work–crap.

"It's 5:30 a.m," Jungkook replies and stands up from the bed, back muscles flexing as he does. He's still naked from last night and so are you now that you think about it. "I need to hop in the shower for work."

You reach forward to catch his wrist before he can move any further. "Let me join you."

Jungkook smiles. You're so beautiful with the way the soft sheets wrap around your bare skin. And your grip on his wrist makes him wish he could crawl back in bed with you.

"As wonderful as that sounds, we both know what'll happen if you jump in the shower with me. And we don't have enough time for that today. Sleep instead, okay?" He gives you a quick kiss and heads for the bathroom.

"Kook–" You kick the covers off your body and follow him.

"What are you doing?" he turns his head in your direction when he feels a cool breeze coming from the door.

"I need to shower too," you say and step behind him in the tub.

"Alright," he narrows his eyes at you. "I'll allow it but behave." When he turns on the hot water you grab your bodywash from the shelf.

"Mhm," you hum. "I definitely will."

You definitely did not. Which is why your husband is about to be late to his lecture with potential hickeys on his neck. You tried to be careful not to put them anywhere visible though—the kids don't need to see that.

"I gotta leave honey," he kisses you by the front door, keys jingling in his hand. "Bye," another kiss. "Yup bye…okay I love you but if I can't get fired by not showing up to class."

You give him one last smooch before reluctantly letting him go. "Oh wait, your collar." You smooth the fabric down for him when you see the crinkles. Jungkook likes it when you groom him like this, it's cute.

"Thanks," he says. "Love you!"

Once he's out of sight you shut the door behind him and walk back to your bedroom.

oh god.

You immediately stand still when you feel a sudden throbbing in your head. You place a hand over your stomach and close your eyes in hopes it'll pass.

"I think I need some water," you say. "I'm so nauseous. This has to be a dizzy spell. No way I'm pregnant after one night of being off my birth control." You dismiss the idea at the mere thought. "It's too soon."

Despite your protests, you decide to pick up a pregnancy test on your way home from work—just to be sure.

"Negative," you read the results of the test later that night. Outside the bathroom, you hear your husband rustling about in the bedroom. "Well, we'll just keep trying."

You smile, anticipating the start of your new life with Jungkook.

A/N: What do you think of the ending? I know oc is negative for pregnancy but she just got off bc so it'll take a few months. Still, they will keep trying ;) stayed tuned for an epilogue and hit me up with drabble ideas, as I will be writing more myself haha. Love You!! 😘

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[dreamescapeswriting]

History Repeats Itself ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 5.9K

PAIRING: Yoongi x fem!Reader

GENRE: mafia, music video inspired, twin brothers against one another, history repeating itself, fluffy ending, mentions of blood, murder, drowning, fighting, swearing,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

Crashes sounded from above your head and you flinched ever so slightly, your grip on the counter in front of you tightening more with every second that the low-punk thieves were on the floor above you. They'd stormed in over 20 minutes ago depending that you give them money from the tills and safe - clearly having no idea who frequently came to the restaurant otherwise they'd never have the gumption to attempt to pull off a stunt like this.

"You called him, right?" The waitress beside you question, your eyes slowly moved over to Jules as you nodded your head slightly and squeezed her hand gently. The two of you had been working inside of your uncle's restaurant since you'd been in high school together, nothing like this had ever happened until now and it was safe to say you were a little worried. But you had hope that Yoongi would be here to fix everything and soon, he'd never let anything happen to you or the restaurant.

"I did, he'll be here soon-" Before you could finish what it was that you were trying to say you had glanced over at the doors of the restaurant to see Yoongi making his way over. Dressed in some casual jeans, a white shirt and a blue jacket that honestly made your heart pump at the mere sight of him. Joining Yoongi today though were six masked men each of them carrying a 2x4 piece of wood and a metal baseball bat acting as though the world couldn't touch them even if it wanted to. Seriously though, they were untouchable to anyone around them and they knew it. No one would mess with them if they knew what was good for them.

"Yoongi," You breathed out as he reached the front desk where you were standing, a small smirk tugged on the corners of his lips as he took the bright red chopsticks you would always carry in your hair out and held them in his hand. You were shaking your head trying to figure out how to tell him all of this had even started but it had gone so fast you could barely process any of it. One second they were eating inside and the next they were yelling and screaming for everyone to give them all of the money, waving bats and knives around like they were some kind of mad-men.

"They were yelling, I was trying to distract them but before I could even think they'd gone upstairs to get the safes, my uncle is up there," Your eyes glanced in the direction of the stairs as you heard something smash, your stomach sinking as you tried not to think of what could be happening up there. They'd taken your uncle as a hostage since he was the only one with the codes to the safe and you didn't even want to think about what they could have been doing to him right now. 

As if reading your mind Yoongi's hand took your chin into his grasp gently and turned you to look at him, his facial features softened as he nodded at you. Anger bubbled inside of him as he saw the cut in the middle of your lip it was obvious that one of them had hit you and he wasn't going to let it slide. His eyes flashed a slight darkness and you looked away from him, whimpering a little as you saw his hand flex. Yoongi didn't take well to people hurting those that he loved and you knew that this cut was going to mean bad news for all of those upstairs not just the one that had hit you.

"I'll fix it." Although he didn't say it, you knew it was a promise and you nodded your head and he smirked a little giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before winking and sprinting his way up the staircase. 

After spending most of his time here he knew the place like the back of his hand, he also knew that if they were holding your uncle hostage he was going to be in the back part of the building where he kept the safes.

"What's the plan, boss?" Christian asked as they stood at the top of the stairs, Yoongi wanted to kill the man that had even dared to look at you let alone touch you so he had no need for dramatic effect.

"We just walk in," He smirks. The thing about Yoongi was that he wasn't about dramatic effect, he might have been one of the most feared men in Seoul but he didn't want to turn into someone that always put on some kind of show for everyone. Today was personal, everyone knew you worked here and everyone knew that you'd worked here for years and that Yoongi was a frequent visitor maybe he should have been more careful but you knew how to protect yourself thanks to Yoongi.

"What are you doing here?!" Someone screamed out as soon as Yoongi and his men walked into the top floor corridor, the man - who Yoongi assumed was a "guard" - threw down the newspaper he was reading calling for other men to come out and see what was happening. Yoongi looked at him, glaring a little.

"You come to my favourite place and expect me not to retaliate?" He smirked, shrugged his shoulders but the man just stood up and said nothing to him. He had to be around 6''2, built like a house with muscles the size of Yoongi's head but he didn't care, right now all he cared about was hurting whoever had hurt you,

"Which of you hit the girl downstairs?" He questioned, his eyes scanning the big man in front of him while a group of men stood further down the hallway watching the display. Yoongi bet that they thought their man would win, but they severely underestimated Yoongi if that were the case.

"The little slapper who was running her mouth?" The bone-headed guard clearly had no idea who Yoonhi was and Yoongi wasn't sure if it excited him more or if it drove his anger over the top level. 

"Was it you?" He stared at the man who sneered a little, 

"And if it was? What are you going to do? Slap my wrist and tell me I've been bad?" He cooed out, waving his hands around like he was a little girl but this only further angered Yoongi.

"The little whore deserved it. She should know not to run her mouth in front of Agust's crew." The anger that had been inside Yoongi had basically tripled more than it normally would have and he clutched the red chopsticks in his hand, running over the possible outcomes if he and his men were to kill all of those that were inside the restaurant this morning.

"Cat got your tongue?" Before the man could even process what was happening Yoongi flung himself toward him, jumping onto him before plunging the chopsticks into the guard's eye, twisting them around and killing him instantly as they went into his brain. Yoongi's men already ran ahead of him to take control of the men that were running through to come and see what all of the yellings had been about. Fights were breaking out around Yoongi as he walked down the hallway toward the main office of the building.

"You piece of shit!" Someone screamed lunging toward Yoongi who simply ducked out of the way causing the man to fly into a wall, smirking Yoongi grabbed him by the scruff of the collar, pinning him to the wall as he leaned in closer to him.

"Who's your boss?" The man was shaking as he stared up at Yoongi, something flashing in his eyes as he took a close look at Yoongis face

"A-Agust?" A smirk flashed on Yoongi's lips before he nodded for one of his men to take over for him, dropping the man as he made his way down the hall.

It was unknown knowledge that one of the most well-known police detectives was also Yoongi's twin brother, the two of them had always had a strained relationship and had never really gotten along. Both going to different private schools and making their own names for themselves in different parts of the huge city they lived in, Yoongi enjoyed the fact that no one knew of him while his brother...Agust. Practically lived off the attention he craved from those around him. 

He wanted to be the most rich and powerful man in all of Seoul, maybe even the whole country but it was hard to do that when you came from nothing. Now he was a "detective" working in one of the highest-ranking police forces but also ran his own gang on the side, using his pull within the force to get away with almost anything he wanted. It had never bothered Yoongi up until this point.

Until now Agust and Yoongi would do everything that they possibly could to stay out of each other's way, deciding it was better than starting fights all of the time. Yoongi couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his brother, maybe it was the time he'd given him that nasty scar that ran down the right side of his face/eye. The two of them had been in a car accident, they’d been out all night looking for you after you’d called Yoongi terrified that you were drunk and at some party where you didn’t know anybody. It was a simple accident, you’d ran out into the road when you saw their car coming but because the two had been bickering inside of the cap when they noticed you, Yoongi swerved into the road to miss you. Agust had hit the dashboard with a force so heavy it caused the scar meanwhile Yoongi had gotten off with a broken arm and dislocated shoulder. You’d blamed yourself for all of it but Yoongi would never make you feel bad for an accident that happened when you were drunk.

"Yoongi," Your uncle breathed out as soon as he walked into the small office, the man that was standing in front of your uncle slowly turned on his heel but before he could even open his mouth Yoongi threw a knife in his direction, hitting him in the chest and smirking as he fell down to the ground.

"Did Yn call you?" Your uncle questioned as Yoongi made his way over to him, cutting the ropes that tied him to the chair,

"Yeah, I took care of everything." He smiled at your uncle who was quick to wrap him in a tight embrace, he knew Yoongi didn't like physical touch that much but this was something he was in need of.

"Someone called the cops, they're on their way." Someone panted from the doorway, your uncle shoved some cash into a duffle bag and handed it to Yoongi.

"Payment for keeping us safe as well as some extra," He winked before shoving Yoongi out of the room and watching as he sprinted down the hallway, they needed to be out of the area before police arrived. If Agust had arranged this then he needed to be gone before his brother could see him, the last thing anyone wanted was for Agust to know Yoongi was still seeing you.

The three of you had been close when you were younger, back before jealousy had taken over and Agust grew to hate Yoongi for everything.

"Where's Yn?" Yoongi asked as he came back down the stairs to find Jules cleaning up on her own, she shrugged her shoulders a little when sirens began to bast from outside,

"Yoongi!" Your voice rang out from down the street as you opened up the passenger side door of your car, waving him over as he sprinted in your direction sliding into the car before the door slammed and you sped off.

"Don't you have a shift to finish?" He questioned cockily as he did up his seatbelt - he trusted your driving of course but it was the other drivers on the road he wasn't so sure of.

"Agust was coming, figured it best I get out of there before he caught wind I was still in Seoul," You mumbled, your hands tightening on the wheel as you sped through the roads trying to make your way toward the main stretch of roads. Yoongi's place was right on the outer parts of town "shadowlands" he called it to you and him.

"Teaching you to drive might have been the best idea I ever had," Yoongi smirked at you, his eyes lighting up as you focused on driving.

"It's hot," He groaned as he watched you concentrating on weaving yourself in and out of other cars on the road as well as doing your utmost best to avoid the cops.

"What? Me driving?" You laughed weakly, glancing in the mirror to make sure there was no one tailing you, as soon as you did you slowed down a little trying to blend into the other cars around you.

"Yeah," He growled leaning over and kissing down your neck, his hands running up and down your thighs as you whined at him.

"You're a pig." You joked, slapping his hands playfully as he smirked at you even more.

"A pig that loves you," Your heart practically lept into your throat as you turned and smirked at him,

"I love you too handsome." You quickly kissed his cheek before heading in the direction of his place, ready to relax for the night and show him just how appreciative you were of him coming to save you today.

"Are you ever going to quit that shit?" You grumbled, snatching the lit cigarette from your boyfriend's mouth and throwing it out of the open window. 

"I thought you found it hot." Yoongi quipped at you, remembering all the years you told him how hot he looked whenever he would smoke. But that was years ago when the two of you thought smoking was "cool" and the "bad person" type of thing to do, now it just ruined your life and took people you cared about away from you.

"Yeah, when I was 18 and you were the "bad boy" type. Now it just means you're going to die sooner than me." You pouted a little before Yoongi chuckled a little watching you from behind. You were staring out into the city below you, wondering how long it was going to be until you could finally get away from it all and run away together.

"Nothing can take me away from you baby," He told you, putting his hands onto your hips and drawing you back into him, your ass pressed against his crotch as he placed kisses up and down your neck. Your hands found his as you held onto him and whimpered a little, he was always so touchy with you in private and you adored every second of it.

"Yoongi," You giggled, wriggling away from him and going over to the fish tank that the two of you had gotten a few weeks back to check on the little guy.

"I'll put the money away," Yoongi told you as he made his way over to the small safe inside the apartment. It wasn't the only place he stored your money, of course, he had placed different hiding spots all over Seoul where he'd decided to hide money in.

"How close are we to the goal?" You questioned as you carefully fed the goldfish that the two of you had gotten together. You'd won him at a funfair a few weeks back and never imagined it would have survived this long since not many of them did.

"Closer than you think," He promised as he opened the safe, it was practically full to the brim with cash that the two of you had been saving up for years. All with the intent of running away to get a completely fresh start together, somewhere you didn't have to hide from a detective and Yoongi didn't have to steal for a living. 

"My tips tonight will help," You called out as you walked toward the bedroom area of his studio apartment, going through the small suitcase of stuff you kept over. You needed to get changed before your shift at the club you worked at and if you didn't head off soon you were going to be late and that was the last thing you needed tonight.

"Trust me, we're not going to need much more," He watched you as he sat down on the sofa, smirking at you as he watched you strip down into nothing before pulling on a brightly coloured bikini and pulling some jeans and a baggy shirt over.

"I'm going to send Jin to watch over you tonight." Yoongi couldn't put his finger on it but something didn't sit right with him today and he wanted you to have some protection while you were dancing tonight.

"He scares the men away when you bring him," You turned to look at Yoongi, slowly making your way over to him before sitting down in his lap and smiling at him. Yoongi knew Jin scared the men off since that was his job, Yoongi loved and trusted you more than anything in the world but the thought of having random men ogling you all night drove him wild. On the nights he couldn't go to the club in disguise he would send someone he trusted, someone who would watch over you for him.

"He does?" Yoongi questioned, playing dumb but you rolled your eyes at him and shook your head.

"I need my tips Yoongi and if he's there I can't get them," You'd been working as an exotic dancer for a few years now to help bring in some more money for your escape plan. The money was exceptional on good nights but even on bad nights, the money was still relatively good enough for you to survive on.

"You need to lay low tonight so you can't come either," You warned him, your fingers slowly running up and down his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

"How do you know everything I'm thinking before I say it?"

"I'm special." You wink at him, leaning down and kissing him deeply. As soon as your lips connected it was as though everything around you melted away, the worries from earlier that morning were gone and replaced with a feeling of warmth and home. Yoongi had always been your safe space, that one person you could go to when the whole world was falling apart around you and yet somehow he made it all feel okay again.

"As soon as I'm back tonight we'll pack, okay?" You questioned as you finally got up from his lap, looking over at the bath that stood in the middle of the room. Yoongi nodded his head, bringing you into a quick kiss once again before you giggled a little,

"Have a bath, you're covered in blood and sweat." You gently ran your thumb over his cheekbone before getting up and heading for the front door. Yoongi's eyes didn't leave your body until the door was shut and even when it was the crushing feeling that something was wrong never left him.

"Everything is fine," He whispered to himself, grunting as he made his way over to the bath filling it with hot water before making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He put his uneasy feeling down to the adrenaline of earlier and he shook his head, pouring himself a nice cold glass of whiskey, downing it before making his way over to the bath and striping down.

A few minutes of shut-eye under the hot water would make him feel better, hopefully it would relax him enough and he could chill out until you got home for the night. Once you were home he was going to make a move on getting all of the cash he had together so that the two of you could leave.

You'd barely made it onto the streets under you were grabbed from behind, your arms pinned against your back as someone pressed something against your temple. It didn't take a genius to work out that there was now a gun pressed against your temple,

"Don't scream, don't kick and don't try and make a scene," The familiarity of that voice was like nails on a chalkboard for you and you bit back an insult to spit in Agust's direction,

"Not even a comment? I'm hurt, usually, you have a few choice words when you see me Yn." You stared at him as he came into view, one of his men tightened his grip on you as you struggled a little. Whenever you saw Agust it was like an instinct took over you and you wanted to kill him for even breathing the same air as you.

"Dressed like this on a night? I can only assume you're going to CooKee's," He knew the name of your club meaning he'd more than likely been watching you and Yoongi for a while and knew exactly what you were up to. You hated that he'd been watching you and neither of you had even noticed, all of this had to have been a set-up.

"Was today part of your plan? Huh? Stalk me like the creeper you are and then kidnap me? Because if you think taking me and forcing me to stay is going to make me fall in love with you, Agust, I have news for you," You stared at him glaring a little, as much as you wanted to bite your tongue and not give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pissing you off you couldn't help it,

"You've been watching too many movies. The beauty doesn't fall in love with the beast." You spat down at his feet and instantly he grabbed your face, holding it tightly in his grasp as he forced you to look at him. Your eyes found his as he glared at you, a darkness behind his eyes you'd never seen in anybody else before and you knew if he really wanted to he could just kill you in an instant.

"And whose fault is it that I'm a beast?! Huh?!" He shook your head forcibly before letting go and staring at you, a laugh erupting out of him as he shook his head. 

"It was an accident, I was drunk." You mumbled at him, your arms beginning to ache with how tightly they were being held against your back.

"Let's go inside, you can let my brother know I'm here to see him and take back what's mine." You scoffed at that, none of that money was his.

"Yours? The money you sent your boneheaded men to come and steal? From MY uncle?" 

"You're a gobby little shit, I can see why Bruce busted your lip. I see that you kept your vicious little mouth."

"Bruce? Nice to know the name of the man Yoongi killed." Suddenly you were lifted into the air by the man behind you who was growling a little.

"Yn, meet Bruce's brother, Vincent," Agust smirked as you were carried back into the building where Yoongi lived, your legs kicking as you attempted to get out of this man's arms and stop them from going inside. 

"YOONGI!" Agust's voice rang out chipper as he booted the door to his apartment open to see Yoongi sitting in the bathtub. As soon as Yoongi saw you in someone's arms and struggling to get away he reached for his gun but Agust shot a bullet into the ceiling.

"I wouldn't touch that if I was you." Agust aimed the gun at you this time and chuckled darkly to himself. He prided himself on being the brother that didn't care about hurting anyone around him and he enjoyed hurting people.

"Yoongi, listen to him." You pleaded as you looked at him, he glanced at you and smiled weakly. He knew that his sinking feeling was for a reason and he hated that you were being dragged into all of this.

The gun that Agust was holding slowly turned to be aimed at Yoongi's temple this time,

"You're going to tell me where all the money is," Agust told him, cocking back the gun and taking the safety off, you threw your legs around to try and get out of the man's grasp but you were stuck.

"Why? I thought you had more than enough with your job and side hustles." You hated that Yoongi was taking the time to be cocky toward his brother despite a gun being pressed toward him,

"You have dirty money, it belongs to other people. People you stole from," The barrel of the gun was pressed against Yoongi's skin but he didn't flinch, he didn't even so much as break a sweat.

"At least I'm not a dirty cop." He spat out before he was hit with the gun, you screamed out watching as Yoongi's head fell forward and a bit of blood dropped from his mouth.

"Last chance, give me the money." The gun was once again aimed at Yoongi, Agust's finger was on the trigger but Yoongi was refusing to answer or even look at his brother. Instead, he was staring at you with a weakened smile on his lips, as if this was his way of saying goodbye. Before you could think about what was happening you threw your head back into the nose of the man holding you, busting it as he dropped you onto the floor,

"I'll tell you! I'll tell you where it is just leave him alone!" You screamed out, rushing to Yoongi's side and slapping the gun out of Agust's hand and knocking it onto the floor. The twins stared at you as Yoongi eyed you up suspiciously,

"Let Yoongi go and you can have the money," You made your way over to the safe, looking at Yoongi as your eyes quickly flicked to the cigarette that was lit and inside of Agust's mouth.

"You're too slow!" Agust boomed out as you unlocked the safe, pulling it open to reveal stacks of cash that were now falling onto the ground.

It was mere seconds that it had been open before Yoongi took the cigarette from his brother's lips, smirking before throwing it into the safe. You'd never seen money go up in flames so fast before and you moved away from it all.

"Now no one can have it." You smirked, looking at Yoongi with a proud smile as he winked at you a little. If it was between giving the money to Agust or burning it, you'd burn it 10 times over.

"You're a silly little bitch!" Agust screamed before pushing his brother's head into the water. You didn't have time to react before you were grabbed by the same goon as before, your legs flailing around as you attempted to stop Agust from killing Yoongi.

"LET FUCKING GO OF ME YOU CUNT!" You squealed before something hit the back of your head, your legs suddenly felt too heavy to move and you watched helplessly as your boyfriend struggled to fight back against his brother,

When You eventually woke up you were tied to a chair in some kind of shipping container yard, surrounded by a bunch of men in all-black suits. In front of you was Yoongi who was hunched over a barrel of water, his hair dripping wet and his hands tied together in front of him as he panted heavily. You had no idea how long this had been going on but you wanted it to end and you wanted it to end right now.

"How nice of sleeping beauty to wake up and witness all of this." You struggled against the chair as a bald man dipped Yoongi's head back under the water, you screamed out begging for them to stop but none of them would listen to you and you knew that.

"Now, now. No struggling or you might hurt yourself," Agust made his way over to you, smirking as he took your chin into his hand and turned your head to look up at him. You hated him with every fibre of your being and all you wanted to do was kill him but being tied to a chair didn't give you many options on how to do that.

"You know if you'd wanted me instead of him he never would have corrupted that pretty little brain of yours." You stared at him, nostrils flaring as you held back your comments,

"You wouldn't have to be a dirty little whore that stripes for spare change." By now he was face to face with you and you spat into his face, earning a slap across your face as you let out a small whimper.

"I may not be rich like you, but at least I have morals. I'm not a dirty cop." You grumbled before he started laughing rather loudly at you,

"You sleep beside a murderer, you've killed a few people as well, now, what kind of morals are those?" Your smile fell from your face, he knew everything? You'd only killed when you had to or when you were in real danger but you knew Yoongi had killed too. 

"Or when you're working three jobs to keep yourself fed," You stared at him as you shook your head, you didn't care what you had to do in order to survive. You loved Yoongi and nothing would change that.

"If you were with me, you'd never have to work a day in your life, everything you could ever want would be at the snap of your fingers." Agust was standing behind your chair now, his hands on your shoulders as you watched Yoongi constantly being dipped under the water only to be dragged up right before he could drown or pass out. You had no idea how long they'd been doing this to him but he looked exhausted, his face pale and his facial features were beginning to look sunken.

"You never wanted this life, Yn. I remember what you wanted," He whispered in your ear, his breath on your skin made you want to crawl into a ball and die.

"You wanted to be treated like a queen. Long walks on the beach, waking up with someone by your side.  Richer than you could ever imagine being."

"That was when I was young and foolish," You hissed out at him, you hadn't thought about that kind of life in years. You knew it was practically impossible.

"It can all be real, just come to me,"

"Why? Why do you want me?" You questioned, staring at him as he smirked at you. Agust had always wanted everything that Yoongi had, nothing was ever good enough for him. If Yoongi was happy then Agust wanted that thing to be taken away from him and he would stop at nothing until that happened.

"Because he has you." Yoongi was once again dipped into the water and you whimpered, watching helplessly as he was pulled back out. Your eyes flashed behind the bald man that was drowning Yoongi and you tried not to let a smirk show on your face.

There were some things that Agust clearly didn't know about his men or about life in general and that was that not everyone could be trusted. A few men that were standing and watching his display worked for Yoongi and you'd even seen them at your club before. Among the men though there was Jin, who was staring at the barrel and waiting for you to notice. There had to be some kind of plan in action and you had no idea what it was, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to distract Agust from watching him.

"If I agree, you'll leave him alone and you won't touch him." You told Agust suddenly, trying to get him to stand in front of you again but he simply moved to stand beside you, his eyes on his brother the whole time.

"Sure." He shrugged, not really agreeing to it. You knew that there was no way Agust would just let him go but you needed to distract him long enough for whatever plan Jin had in play.

"I want your word on it! Look at me!" You screamed, wriggling in the chair as you attempted to move it but Agust's handheld you in place as he turned to look down at you.

"You'll let him leave Seoul, no one tailing him. He gets out and you get me." You told him, staring him deep in the eyes as he smirked at you, pretending to think it over as he looked down into your eyes.

"You have my word, princess." You could tell by the smirk on his lips that you couldn't trust him but you smiled weakly.

"T-Thank you." He turned to look at the man who was holding Yoongi under the water and made a throat-cutting action,

"You asshole!" You screeched out kicking the chair out from under you as you hit the ground with force, the chair smashing as you watched the display. Yoongi was pulled from the water, a gun cradled between his hands as he took aim at his brother. Seconds felt like hours before Agust's laugh began to die down, shots ringing loudly.

"Yoongi," You breathed out as he lent against the water barrel, catching his breath as he tried to calm down from almost drowning, his head rushing with adrenaline.

"Untie her, NOW!" He boomed out, four men rushing to your side as they untied the ropes from your ankles and wrists. You scrambled to your feet and rushed into his arms, looking at him as he smirked down at you,

"I told you nothing could take me away from you." You hit his chest softly,

"You knew he was going to come for you?" You frowned, wondering why he'd let it get this far if he'd known from the start but Yoongi shook his head. He was smart but he wasn't that smart,

"No. But I always make sure I'm ten steps in front of him. I've had my people with him for years," He kissed your temple softly before carefully lifting your wrists to his lips and kissing them softly where you had been bound.

"We can get out of here now. We'll go wherever we want," He told you, kissing your wrists again as you nodded at him,

"Japan," You told him as he smirked at you. The two of you had always planned to go to Japan together and he was more than happy to oblige with whatever your heart desired.

It had been months since the incident in Seoul had happened and as you sat in the small restaurant in Japan you watched the news. It was reported that the case for Detective Agust's case had run cold and would officially be shut by the end of the year.

"After information was found that Dectivie Agust was dirty we have reason to believe his own men took him out." You gulped a little and looked at Yoongi who was smirking at you.

"I told you everything would work out." He fed you some noodles with his chopsticks and you felt your body heating up a little,

"You're always right," You mumbled, leaning across the table and kissing him softly before he laughed softly.

"I know I am." He winked before you shook your head, going back to reading the book you had in front of you. It was a history book about the Kingdom of Joseon and about two twin brothers who had fought for their right to rule the kingdom. Ending in the death of the tyrant ruler and leaving his brother to rule by the side of his girlfriend.

"These twins look too similar to you," You mumbled, turning the book around so that Yoongi could see the picture of the twins that was inside the book.

"Maybe history repeated itself." He winked at you before eating from his bowl and letting you get back into your book.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog​ @rjsmochii​ @tinyoonsblog​ @sw33tnight​ @cherrybubblesandvodka​ @acciocriativity​ @mitzwinchester​ @heyjiminnie​ @halesandy​ @jin-from-the-block​ @aerastus​ @namjooningelsewhere​ @psychosupernatural​ @lyoongx​ @royallyjjk​ @critssq​ @laylasbunbunny​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @meowmeowisdaname​ @imafivestarkpopstan​ @ratherbfangirling​ @backintomykpopphaseagain​

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hotel Room

PAIRING: Tangerine x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2392

SUMMARY: changing plans midway into a mission in Tokyo- you, Tangerine and Lemon decide to stay in a hotel instead of taking the bullet train.

TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+ only. dry humping, pinv, unprotected sex, pull out. no use of y/n MINORS DNI.

A/N: this is my first post and im a little scared to post it, so please plz be kind. I tried to keep it as accurate as possible, however I accidentally made Tangerine kinder than I had originally planned and changed some things about the film plot so it doesn’t create a domino effect in this- aka Tan dying

rewritten 09/12/23 - no change to the plot, just made it less crap

"I don't think we should be getting this train," you mutter like you were talking to yourself, eyes darting across the busy platform of the station. "Guys?" you repeat, turning to see only Lemon behind you. "I don't think we should get this train."

"Yeah?" Lemon hums, sounding distracted.  

"I have a bad feeling. The next one is in thirty minutes. I say we wait," you respond, wary eyes glancing around.

Tangerine joins you both, looking over the tickets he just collected. "What's that now?" he questions, brows furrowed.

"I got intel someone I used to know might be on here," you murmur, avoiding the Twins' focused gaze.

"Like an ex?" Tangerine prods, his tone slightly cautious.

"No— stop it. I'm being serious," you emphasise, eyes squinting to show your annoyance.

Usually, when others act possessive around you, you'd turn the other way - having no interest in games. But when you talk about other guys in front of Tangerine, you'd often notice how his forehead vein would subtly protrude, like he was bubbling with rage from the inside - keeping it hidden. Though you'd always notice. It wasn't hard to tell when he was jealous. His quick, snappy comments are often the main giveaway.

"Alright, alright. Keep'ya knickers on, bellend," he scoffs, crossing his arms and widening his stance as if he was trying to intimidate you - which it doesn't.

"Okay, so, you remember Johannesburg? When we saw that guy— dirty blonde, mid-length hair? Facial hair? Yellow outfit. Looked like a prisoner? That one?" 

"No, not really," Lemon adds, shaking his head - looking clueless.

"Lemon. You shot him— a few times."

"No, not ringing a bell," he continues, just as clueless as before. "Oh, you mean Joburg?"

Tangerine pipes in, sighing. "Yes, you daft fuck."

"Well, I was just checking."

"Yeah, but it ain't important now, is it?" the twins bicker, overlapping each other.

"Oh my god," you mutter, rubbing the bridge of your nose. "Right, anyway, none of that's important. I used to work with him— Ladybug, like way way way back. I got a tip-off he's gonna be getting this train, and he's clearly been assigned to snatch that case," you nod to the silver briefcase tucked under Lemon's arm. 

"We can keep the case safe. We got hired for that reason," Tangerine adds, subtly reassuring you. 

"No, no. That doesn't matter. He's seeing a new therapist, and he's got some weird fate, destiny thing protecting him— like everyone except him gets hurt. I dunno about you, but I don't really feel like getting shot at again today."

You look between the brothers, eyes softening like you are talking without words - telling them things to make them take your side, to make them see that you're trying to protect them. You find it harder to pull away from Tan's fixed blue gaze, feeling strangely hypnotised under his attention.

"Okay," Tangerine agrees simply. "We'll wait," he nods, extending his hands towards you, resting them on your shoulder as if he's comforting you - telling you in his own way that everything will be okay. He rips his hands away when he hears a cough from beside him - Lemon suspicious at the placement.

The kind gesture wasn't long-lived, but it helped. A lot.

You suggest staying in a nearby hotel for the night, offering to try again in the early hours of the morning. The case would be safe, and that's what mattered.

————

You and the twins walk into the quiet hotel lobby, asking for three rooms - preferably all next door to each other. Once collecting the key cards, you make your way up to your floor, letting yourselves into your rooms with a quick nod to one another, silently saying goodnight.

After the nonstop events of today, all you wanted was to shower. To wash away the grime of the day, literally.

You throw your overnight bag on the floor and do a quick sweep of the room to check it's safe, then head into the bathroom, stepping into the shower to begin a lengthy wash.

Afterwards, you pat yourself dry with a fluffy hotel towel, dressing in an oversized tee when you hear a few rhythmic knocks at the door. You look through the peephole to see a wet, curly-haired, ‘stached man - there was only one person that could be.

You tug on the hem of your t-shirt, covering your exposed thighs as you open the door, greeted by Tangerine on the other side wearing a baggy tee and a pair of boxers.

His eyes leisurely travel over you, slowly pulling away from your thighs that you subtly tried to hide. He coughs, clearing his throat like he's refocusing, diverting his attention from your lower half back to your fresh face.

"Just doing bed check. And you are... ahem," he masks the pause in another cough. "You are accounted for. So that's. That's good."

"Right, okay," you murmur, purposely keeping your gaze fixed on his face - stopping your eyes from glancing lower.

He hesitates, lingering like that wasn't all he knocked for. You wanted to invite him in. To hang out for a bit. But you get all finicky and squirrely when it's just the two of you, and you never know what to say or do. It was like you couldn't think straight, his aftershave and biceps acting like a barrier in your brain. Besides, it's not like anything can happen between you anyway - he didn't like you in that way.

He clears his throat once more, scratching the back of his neck. "My tv ain't working. I don't wanna watch Lem's shit, so can I watch some in your room?"

Letting out a small puff of a sigh, you agree and move aside, allowing him to walk past. He settles in almost instantly, shimmying himself under the covers and flicking through the channels, trying to find something good to watch.

You sit down awkwardly beside him, leaving a safe and comfortable gap between you, subtly scootching away when he moves closer to you.

"What's up with you? You're being well weird," he asks, diverting his attention from the Japanese game show to you, looking over you with furrowed brows.

"I'm not being weird. You're being weird," you divert, crossing your arms over yourself, trying to minimise space. "Just trying to get comfy."

"That's cos'ya hanging off the bed, knobhead. Get closer, then."

He swiftly pulls you closer, gently dragging you towards him so that both of you are leaning against the headboard, his arm draped over your shoulder.

It was the complete opposite of what you were trying to accomplish - now smushed up close to his side, forced to smell his masculine shower gel. You had no idea what to do with yourself.

You have only been this close in proximity a few times. And on those occasions, one of you would always be drunk - never to be brought up again. But when you're sitting so close to him, both completely sober, your brain can't help but stir up those feelings you've been trying to suppress.

Lewd and vulgar thoughts spiralled around when you feel the steady sound of his heartbeat against your arm, everything so casual and natural - like everything was a breeze with him. Your mind begins to wander when you feel him shift beside you, legs spreading, groin adjusting like he was making himself comfortable - like he was situating himself in your bed for the night.

In your line of work, you don't often experience genuine human interactions - ones that are soft and gentle, ones filled with tender love and care. Every encounter lately has ended in a blood bath - literally. 

So when you feel Tangerine's hand slip into yours, you can't help but overthink it. It was so unlike him to physically show how he felt, so it was tricky not to question his motives.

His thumb swipes over your hand, softly squeezing yours, so you decide to look up at him, but he is already focused on you - the tv a mere thought away. The way he looked at you was so unexpected, so different to all the other times. 

All you could offer under his concentrated attention was a faint and gentle smile, nose softly scrunching as you held his gaze. He returns with a boyish grin, tache twitching with the movement.

You momentarily break eye contact, quickly glancing down at his lips. You thought you were sneaky, but the way his breathing ever so slightly faltered told you otherwise. 

He slowly leans towards you, his movements articulate and calculated as he pulls you in for a kiss, working over your lips carefully and considerately. His large palms nestling on the side of your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss - everything turning somewhat desperate. Hasty.

His mouth travels away from your slightly bruised lips, now working along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Muttering faint groans into your skin as you tug on the damp curls at the back of his head - holding him close to you.

Tangerine's movements remain dominant. In charge. Guiding you and bringing you down the bed, laying you flat on your back so he can situate himself between your spread legs - hovering atop of you with his chest pressed to yours.

His cock feels firm against you, tucked and slotted perfectly between your thighs, nudging and brushing your clit with every subtle move he makes. 

It wasn't long before you found yourself whimpering into his mouth and toying with your hips, the dry humping working you up more than you had thought.

He parts from your lips, looking into your hazy, blissed-out eyes -ones that mirror his own- and begins to lazily push up your tee, stroking up your stomach, exposing just what he wanted to see; plushy tits and cute soft tummy. 

You help him out of his t-shirt, wanting to see more. Eager fingers trailing over the contours of his stomach before pulling him back to you, his happy trail brushing against your abdomen - chests sandwiched together. 

He trails a faint line of kisses down your neck and along your collarbone as he slips himself from your grasp, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He picks up your hand, sliding his gold rings onto your fingers. "Look after these for me, would'ya?" he whispers, kissing the back of your hand.

It's then that he finally slips a hand between your legs, faintly trailing up and down your slit, teasing you as he palms his cock through his tented boxers, circling over the wet patch of fabric - right by his head.

His gaze remains lidded, lazily looking over you as he dips his hand into the waistband, rolling over his aching cock a couple of times. Your eyes respond pleadingly, silently begging him to hurry up.

Your keen fingers make haste movements, brushing over his boxers like you were trying to strip them from him - doing his job for him. 

He answers your prayers and tugs down the fabric, flinging his briefs to the edge of the bed, letting his thick, hard cock spring free. He grips himself at the base, guiding his head towards your slick hole - rimming his tip around before slowly easing in. 

He goes slow, steady. Like he has all the time in the world. Letting you adjust and accustom his size, deeply filling you. Bottoming out.

With his cock stuffed inside, he leans over you once more, hovering over you and caging you to the mattress - your arms and legs clinging onto him, wrapping around him like a monkey on a tree. 

"Fuck me," Tangerine blabbers, voice hoarse and incoherent. Hot grunts against your throat as he winds into you, cock grinding inside you. "Christ."

He brings his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks, holding you still so he can lap over your lips, swallowing your whimpers - your sweet pretty sounds muffling against his tongue. 

Your touch mirrors his, moving your hands from his back to hold either side of his face, pushing away a stray curl that fell. Holding him close. Keeping him there.

Tangerine quickens the pace, fucking into you a little better. More deliberatly. The curve of his cock rubbing against your gummy walls in the most sinful way.

He chases your release, wanting to feel you shudder and tighten around him - wanting to feel you cum on his cock. So, he parts from your lips and trails messy open kisses over your cheek, halting when he reaches under your ear. 

"You feel so perfect wrapped around me—  you're so perfect," he hazily whispers, talking low. "God— yeah, that's it," he nods slowly, encouraging you. "You're right there, pretty girl. I can feel it."

With his soft praise, you find yourself gripping onto his dick, tightly clamping around him as you cum. Moaning sweet cries senselessly into the crook of his neck.

Your release triggers his own, pumping his thick, warm load onto your stomach, biting back broken groans as he milks the rest of his cum onto your jittering tummy. 

He leans back over you once more, placing a lingering kiss on your lips before pushing himself off the bed, heading for the bathroom.

Returning with a lusty smile and a wet washcloth, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you, gently wiping it over your stomach before doing the same with his cock, rubbing the fabric over his leaking, messy tip.

"We should've done that years ago," you whisper, flattening your tee down your stomach.

"Fuckin' years ago," he coyly grins, raking back his now-dried curls.

Your smile widens, meeting his eyes. "You, uh... you can stay over? If you want... so you— you can watch tv?" you offer, trying to persuade him - finding a reason for him to stay.

"For the tv," he chuckles, nodding. Playing along

He slips into the bed beside you, tugging the covers up and settling himself next to you. His large, warm arms find you under the sheets, holding you to his side.

"We got an early start. Get some sleep, love," he whispers, placing a delicate kiss on your temple. "Goodnight."

[13uswntimagines]

Promises We Make (Lindsey Horan x Soulmate!R)

Request: A Lindsey x reader soulmate AU where people know they're soulmates because they share dreams with them. Something angsty and happy and a lot of things.

Author's note: Wow, this has been a crazy long time coming. I think I have almost 2 years of planning, writing and re-writing in this fic. It’s a bit different than the original. It includes some new scenes and things that I meant to put in but never physically did. It feels like a little piece of my soul, so I really hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, I’m always down to chat. Hit me up with questions or concerns. 

 Without Further ado: 

You had never understood when people said that the dreams you shared with your soulmate were more vivid. It was hard for your brain to wrap itself around the idea that everything was more intense in the shared dreams, especially the first one. 

You didn’t understand until you blinked into consciousness. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the immediate kaleidoscope of colors that met you. A deep blue sky with cotton-like clouds lazily drifting in the wind. The sun peeked out at you from behind them, its rays landing pleasantly on your face, a light breeze fluttering around you. 

Your fingers wound through the cool grass under you, as you pushed yourself to a sitting position. 

It was nice, even if you weren’t quite sure where you were. 

The comfortability of it all felt like lead in your stomach, countering the inherently light feeling of your surroundings. This was the moment you had been dreading for your entire life. The dream you had been dreading for your entire life. 

The dream you hadn’t been sure you would ever have. 

You blew out a shuddering breath, your eyes tracing a netless goal at the far end of the field and a rusty teeter-totter nestled behind it in a halfhearted effort to follow your therapist's technique for quelling the growing butterflies in your chest. 

Her advice never worked, but still, you tried. 

You drew your eyes along the heavy chain link fence that sprouted from the back corner of the goal and encased the field, separating it from the tall trees that acted as a shield for a low brick building. 

The leaves were alight with the warm oranges and browns of fall, rippling in time with the drifting breeze like the hands of fans as you made your final lap around the stadium. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out. 

You supposed that they were the only spectators in a place like this, even if you still weren’t sure where you were. You could tell it was a school playground, possibly from childhood, but it wasn’t from your childhood. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out. 

Or maybe they were a divine sign. A premonition flashing red, orange, and yellow, warning you of the incoming storm. Like the creak of a door before the monster appeared in a movie. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out. 

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled at the light crinkle of grass behind you. The first indication that you weren’t alone. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out.

“Hey, fancy meeting you here,” 

Her voice immediately sent a shiver down your spine, untangling the suffocating knot that had formed around your lungs. It had goosebumps appearing up and down your arms and legs. 

You should have been surprised, but you weren’t. 

Your head turned to look back over your shoulder, and suddenly your breath was gone again. 

You gulped, trying not to think about how the sun filtering through her blonde hair reminded you so much of a halo. How the sight alone was enough to ease the bubbling dread in your stomach. She had been through almost everything with you. You and your heart had always been safe with her. 

She wouldn’t hurt you.

“Hey Linds,” You smiled softly. 

The smile she returned didn’t quite meet her eyes. “There’s a set of swings over there if you wanna chat?” She gestured to your left, shifting on her feet awkwardly. 

You nodded, pushing yourself up noting how soft the grass felt under your bare feet following after her. It felt natural. You had been following her for nearly all of your adult life. 

The two of you had met in France when you were barely 17 and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you were attached at the hip. She had stubbornly forced her way beyond the wall your childhood had built and into your heart. You undoubtedly loved her, even if you were too afraid to admit it. 

You resisted the urge to take her hand as you walked, one that you had never experienced in real life. She always reserved hand-holding for her significant others, and it was one of the few lines that the two of you had never blurred (except in France, but that didn’t count). 

 The walk over to the small, blue-gray swing set was quiet, but the two of you had never been uncomfortable in silence. It was familiar, warm. The silence was full of safety, even as you settled on the plastic seat. 

“Where are we, exactly?” You asked, your fingers wrapping tightly around the chain, the nail of your thumb picking at the slightly peeling paint, and your toes digging into the dip in the ground underneath you. 

It made you feel like you were in middle school, talking to a girl you liked for the first time, not sure what to say or how to say it. Putting your feelings into words had never been your strong suit. 

She cleared her throat, the crinkles by her eyes tightening for a long second as she began to swing slowly, her cleats scratching against the ground. “My elementary school,” 

More silence stretched between you, and you watched her closely. It unsettled you how her eyes remained glued to her cleats, how she wouldn't look up at you. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. Shouldn’t you both be happy? Shouldn’t she feel as relieved as you felt? 

The two of you had been dancing around this thing for so long and now it all made sense. You didn’t have to be afraid of how you were so drawn to each other anymore. You could allow yourself to feel.

But Lindsey didn’t look relieved. 

“I don’t want things to change between us,” She said, her voice barely audible, rough with emotions that you didn’t quite understand, the tip of her cleat kicking up a clump of dirt. 

“I don’t think it has to,” You said slowly, reaching out to catch her hand hoping she would look at you. “We can take this slow, and figure it out as we go,”

You weren’t sure how the whole soulmate thing was supposed to work. You had honestly never believed in soulmates, but you were willing to try.

You would be willing to do just about anything for her. 

Another beat of silence passed between you, and you squeezed her hand once in reassurance. It would all be alright. The two of you could make it through anything together. 

Lindsey dragged her gaze up. You sucked in a deep breath as red-rimmed blue finally met you.  “I have a boyfriend Y/n. I love him.” 

It felt like a knife, sharp and slow slipping into your chest, finding its way perfectly between your ribs. A cold ache diffused from the point of your heart and you resisted the urge to see if she had actually stabbed you. 

“I love him,”

The second half of her sentence pinged around your head like the metal bearing in a pinball machine. It echoed everything you were already aware of, everything your mother had told you before you moved out. 

You knew she loved you too, but she couldn’t love you the way you had always loved her. She wasn’t in love with you. She couldn’t be in love with you because she was in love with him. 

You weren’t worthy of her love. 

You swallowed hard. “Oh,” 

The word was forced and showed more of your pain than you wanted her to see. It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t love you. That was all on you. 

“I don’t want things to change between us,” She said, her voice edging on pleading, willing you to understand. She squeezed your now limp fingers tightly. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose you,” 

You hadn’t even realized you let go of her hand.

The knife twisted in your chest, its tip scratching at your lungs with each breath you sucked past your lips. One little push and it would rip you wide open. You couldn’t bear to lose her, even if it hurt to not. 

You didn’t know how to be without her. 

“You won’t,” 

The promise was soft, scratchy, filled with all the words you wanted to say, but couldn’t bring yourself to let out. You had never made her a promise you didn’t keep, but you weren’t sure you would be able to see this one through. 

You had to try for her. 

It would make her happy, and as her soulmate, that was all that should matter to you. 

Her shoulders instantly relaxed, and you tried not to think about how the knife wiggled a little more at her relief. You tried not to think about how the warning from the trees had been right. 

She squeezed your fingers again, tugging you off of your swing and into a hug. 

“Thank you for understanding,” 

You shivered at how her lips grazed your neck with the words. They tickled and ached all at the same time. 

You did understand. 

“Yeah. Anything for you,” You mumbled, tucking your nose against her collarbone, breathing in her vanilla body wash and perfume, allowing yourself to enjoy the contact for just a second. Pretending that it didn’t hurt. Pretending that it would all be alright. 

Your eyes slid closed and you will yourself to wake up. 

You could deal with her rejection, as long as you didn’t lose the people you loved the most. 

*****

Your fingers wrapped tightly around the cardboard USSoccer-provided coffee cup trying to leech as much warmth from it as you could. It wasn’t that you were physically cold, but the icy sludge that settled in your stomach from the moment that you jerked awake hadn’t abated. It numbed you from the inside out, sloshing around and refusing to let you forget. 

You took a little sip of your too-hot coffee, swirling the molten liquid across your tongue and savoring the sting. It did just enough to combat the icicles in your veins, but you didn't know if it was because it gave you an excuse to stay quiet and avoid your teammates or because it was actually helpful. 

You knew you were too quiet for a camp breakfast, but you didn’t know any other way to maintain normalcy. The team was just starting to gel, and you didn’t want to throw that off. You knew they didn’t take soulmate issues lightly. They didn’t need the distraction. 

You could pretend you were fine for their sake. 

Lindsey seemed fine after all. She had taken her spot next to you without question, as though nothing had changed between you. She wrapped her arm around the back of your chair and passed you the cantaloupe from her breakfast plate like she always did. She seemed at ease, joking with your friends, nudging you with each story she told. 

She seemed completely oblivious to how each action deposited a little more sediment on the growing stalagmites around your heart. How each smile pulled too tightly from your cheeks and was followed by a steaming sip. 

You could pretend for her sake too. She had asked you to, and you would do anything for her. 

“What about you Y/n?” 

You blinked up at the mention of your name, your coffee cup landing on the table with a low tap and your eyes finding Emily’s. You could see the thinly veiled worry buried in her blue, hidden well enough that it wouldn’t be obvious to the rest of the table, except maybe Kelley but she didn’t count because she was the blonde’s soulmate. 

“What about me?” 

The table erupted in laughter, and Lindsey nudged you again. “You’re such a space cadet,” 

You fought to hold back a cringe at the action, something that would have had warmth blooming in your chest and heat rising to your cheeks on any other day, but it just made the sludge in your stomach slosh, sending another wave of numbness through you. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed across from you, catching your pained expression. 

She had known you almost as long as you had known Lindsey and the two of you were nearly as close. 

“What are your celebration plans for when we win?” Emily repeated the question, leaning forward just a bit, concern evident in her tone. 

You shrugged. You hadn't considered what would happen if you managed to win the W Cup. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You and Lindsey always celebrated together, until the mess at the world cup. It had hurt too much to think about what winning would look like without your normal tradition. 

“We have to get past Uzbekistan first,” 

“You average almost 3 goals a game, I think we’re gonna be ok,” Kristie scoffed, shaking her head, oblivious to the way Emily and Kelley were staring at you. 

“Uzbekistan isn’t exactly known for its firepower,” Rose added with a smirk, rolling her eyes. “And you can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about what you’re going to do when we win,” 

“Maybe we should ask if she’s thought about who she would do when we win,” Kristie cackled, and parts of the table hummed in agreement. 

You knew it was in reference to how you disappeared after you won the world cup. How they all assumed you had slept your way through several fans on your way back to the United States. You didn’t feel the need to correct them. That would involve explaining exactly what had happened. 

You sent them a halfhearted smile, hoping it looked like the one you shot them when you had been caught. “I’ll probably go back to my room and drink my way through my mini-bar,” 

You didn’t miss the grimace Kelley and Emily shared, or the way Lindsey's dimples jumped out as she frowned. You felt satisfaction tickle the back of your throat. Lindsey had spent the majority of her time pretending like the World Cup Celebration didn’t happen. Like the two of you didn’t almost-. 

You shook your head. You told yourself not to think about it. 

She would never understand the fallout like Emily and Kelley did. They were both there to see it. 

“That’s lame,” Kristie said, her nose scrunching at the prospect. “At least in France, you found yourself a companion,” 

Rose raised an eyebrow at you incredulously. “I thought you weren’t supposed to drink alone?”

You rolled your eyes at the line. Your line. The one you had used to avoid answering questions about the world cup. You caught Lindsey's grimace out of the corner of your eye.

She believed you had slept your way back to the airplane too, but you didn’t understand why she cared. 

She had a boyfriend. 

The sludge in your stomach sloshed again. 

“Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” You muttered halfheartedly, stabbing at your eggs. 

You didn’t even like eggs. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to after your conquests in Florida,” Lindsey said, her voice a thinly veiled sharpness. 

The tone immediately drew your attention, like a razor running gently across your skin, poised to slice you open.

You didn’t talk about Florida, and most of the team acted like you didn’t disappear for 2 months after the World Cup. Considering all the other things Lindsey pretended didn’t happen, you had never expected her to bring it up. 

You forced the bubbling pit in your stomach down, masking it with an easy smile. “What are your plans then?”

The table paused, Emily and Kelley both leaning forward like they were being pulled by a rope, waiting for Lindsey to answer. 

You were very touchy about Florida. 

The midfielder returned your easy smile, leaning back in her chair. “I’ll probably call Ty. He said he has a surprise for me,” 

You did your best to keep your face straight, even as her words sent a numb wave through you. 

“We all know what that will be,” Rose cackled, wiggling her eyebrows. 

It sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. You didn’t want to think about her being with anyone else. You didn’t want to think about your soulmate being intimate, being vulnerable, with him. 

“Too bad you two aren’t soulmates,” Sam hummed, almost offhandedly. 

It still burned in the back of your throat. You didn’t want anyone thinking he was your soulmate’s soulmate. 

You didn’t have a right to be possessive, but it roared to life in your chest like a lion. She was supposed to be yours but she wasn’t.

You cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck, trying to shove those feelings down. You didn’t have the right to feel those feelings.

“I think I’m gonna go to the bus early and try to catch a nap.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice caught. “I didn’t sleep well. Time change and all,” 

You didn’t look up from your coffee cup as you pushed yourself up from the table, afraid of what you would see. You didn’t need to see her indifference. That would hurt worse. 

You ignored the stares on your back as you took your half-eaten plate to the trash and slipped out the door. 

At least if you fell asleep now, she wouldn’t be able to join you there. 

****

The soccer field had always been your safe space. It was the one place in the world where your thoughts went silent and all that mattered was the present moment. 

Even when things during your time at PSG had been rough, the pitch had always welcomed you like an old friend. You could forget your pain as the ball bent to your will.

Except this time you couldn’t.

Not with how oppressively hot Houston was. Not with how Vlatko was playing the starters, expecting you and Lindsey to link seamlessly. Not with how Emily and Kelley kept sending you worried glances. 

It felt like an absolute nightmare in all of its vivid colors, but despite it all your performance hadn’t been affected. 

You ran your hand through your hair, wiping your flyaway curls away from in front of your eyes, turning away from goal before you even saw Casey miss the save. 

“How are you so fast?” Emily asked, falling into step beside you with a nudge. 

You shrugged, shoving her away from you, painting a smile over your features, trying to be normal. “You’re just slow,” 

Lindsey had asked you to be normal. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed, and you knew she wasn’t fooled. You hadn’t expected her to be. 

Emily had known you nearly as long as Lindsey did, and the two of you were more like sisters than friends at this point. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. 

You spent a month on her couch after you came back from Florida and she had even converted the 2nd room of her apartment into a bedroom for you because she didn’t think it was alright for you to be alone. 

Her soulmate, Kelley, had slotted into your life just as nicely, taking the place of the older sibling you always wished your brother would be. 

They were both deceptively good at reading you, and sometimes it was easier to talk to them than it was for you to talk to Tobin and Christen (your self-appointed team moms). They were just as protective. 

“What’s up with you?” Emily nudged you again, catching your elbow and forcing you to look at her. “You seem off,” 

You shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “I told you, I didn’t sleep,”

“Which just seems odd because Abby said you were passed out cold when she came back from her shower,” Emily said, wiggling your elbow so you would look at her. 

You swallowed hard. You could feel her eyes (and a few others) boring into your soul, and you weren’t quite sure how to make the words come out of your mouth. How could you tell her without hurting her relationship with Lindsey?  

“You can talk to me about anything you know? Keeping it all in isn’t healthy,” She added, nudging you again. 

You sighed heavily, only able to meet her eyes for a second before you had to look away. The weight of them was too much. 

You had too much on your mind, and if you opened up, you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop. 

“I just want to play soccer,”

The words sounded weak even to your ears, an old excuse that had been worn through. Her eyes immediately tightened, as did the fingers on your arm. 

“Does this have to do with how much your phone has been ringing?” Her voice was strained, earning an instant frown. 

You didn’t think anyone noticed how often your phone had been going off, or how you never answered it. 

“It’s not-“ You stuttered, shaking your head, closing your eyes, and tilting your head back. That was an entirely different can of worms you weren’t willing to open. Not on top of the Lindsey thing. “I had a bad dream, I woke up. I’m tired,” 

“Do you want to talk about it,” Emily asked you gently, despite already knowing the answer. 

You shook your head once, uttering a “No,” Despite the loud “yes” that echoed around your head. 

Emily squeezed your arm, forcing you to look up at her, worry shining through her blue eyes. “The longer you push it away, the more it’ll hurt,” 

You could hear the warning in her soft voice but also the unwillingness to press. The dance the two of you had played with for a long time. 

She didn’t want you to spiral again. She didn’t want you to go back to the place you had been right after France. She didn’t want you to think you had to hide your pain for everyone else’s sake. 

“I know,” You forced out, biting into your lower lip to prevent the tidal wave of emotions in your chest from breaking out. “I’ve got it handled,” 

You could tell she didn’t believe you by the frown she sent your way. “And if you don’t,” 

“You’ll be the first to know,” You promised, grabbing the hand on your arm and squeezing her fingers. 

“Promise me,” She demanded, slightly too loud, and you felt more eyes on you. 

You nodded. “Promise,” 

“Ok then,” She said, releasing you and nodding towards the coach.  “It’s your turn to run the drill again,” 

You let an easy smirk take over your features. “Maybe you’ll catch me this time loser,” 

You didn’t miss the look Emily shared with Kelley as you headed to the starting position of the drill, the telepathic-like communication only soulmates seemed to share. Or the furrowed eyebrows Lindsey sent your way. 

You knew what both looks meant. Everyone would be watching you more closely for one reason or another. 

******

You settled heavily into your airplane seat, your head leaning hard against the window, pressing your headphones uncomfortably into your head. 

It was weird, traveling by yourself. For as long as you could remember you always flew back to Portland with Lindsey, Emily, and Tobin. With your LA trade, that wasn’t a thing anymore. 

Hell, only Lindsey was left in Portland. 

The only thing you preferred about flying alone was how quiet everything was. How you could finally rest. 

Because camp was utterly exhausting. 

You had started in both games against Uzbekistan, and you scored 5 goals in both games, but Vlatko didn’t take the opportunity to get off your ass. Instead, he had used your only 5 goals as leverage to remind you of the youngins below you vying for a spot. 

And then you had the whole Lindsey situation, as you had been calling it. 

It made your chest ache how she acted like nothing had happened between you. How she seemed content to walk the tightrope between friend and more than a friend, ignorant to how much it hurt. 

Oblivious to the numb wave she sent through you each time she so much as brushed your skin. 

It made it impossible to remain neutral, when you obsessed over every interaction you had with her, worried you were too affectionate or not affectionate enough, unable to walk the tightrope. 

And then you had to deal with your friends. Well-meaning as they were, you wished they would just leave you alone. You didn’t want to talk about your sudden difficulty sleeping or have them try to cuddle you to soothe you into it. 

It was easier to pretend when no one questioned you. It was easier to avoid sleep when no one was watching you. 

But alone on the airplane, no one could bother you. You couldn’t receive voicemails you didn’t want to answer, or texts that would make your aching heart tear just a bit more. No one would try to make you talk, and no one would tell you how inadequate of a player you were. 

It was perfect. 

Your eyelids drooped without your consent as you pressed your forehead harder into the cool glass. You shouldn’t have been surprised after 40 hours of nearly no sleep and a 95-minute game under your belt. 

You wished you could stay forever, and let the subzero air outside of the airplane leach your exhaustion away. 

****

You kept your eyes closed as you came into consciousness, pressing your face deeper into the soft sand underneath you as the sound of the lapping waves and the salty air washed over you.

You didn’t even have to look to know where you were. 

You let it soothe your soul, filling the holes in your chest and removing some of the icicles in your veins.

You felt her warm presence settle beside you, and you fought to hold in your sigh.

You needed peace, but the universe seemed reluctant to give you that. 

You wouldn’t allow her to ruin this place for you. Not when it held so many memories. 

She let you stay quiet for a long moment, before gently bumping your shoulder. “Hey,”

You were reluctant to open your eyes, but you did, carefully rolling over to meet her blue. It was strange that the sand didn’t stick to you like it would in real life.

“Hey,” You smiled stiffly at your blonde soulmate. You were acutely aware of how much your eyes crinkled, how little the edges of your lips moved. You had promised nothing would change, but watching her now, it felt like there was an ocean between you that hadn’t been there before. You felt hyper-aware of every action you made and you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that you were going to ruin it all. Hell, all of camp there had been a disconnect, and you weren’t sure you would ever have the strength to bridge that gap.  

Lindsey cleared her throat, her dimples appearing as she compressed her lips and tugged at the Stanford sweatshirt she was wearing. “I guess I’m cold on the airplane,”

Your eyes followed a small hole just above the wrist. The hole you had made 20 minutes after Kelley bought you the shirt on a goalpost. 

You hadn’t seen the red material since you left the Thorns for Angel City almost 4 months ago. 

Well, that was a lie. You had seen it when you visited Lindsey for her birthday, but you pretended you hadn’t noticed it tucked under the comforter of her bed. She always did love it more than you did. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, as you looked down at yourself, trying not to cringe at the faded tank top hanging from your shoulders, spiderman’s face bleached by the sun and salt. 

 “Yeah. I guess I’m hot,” You mumbled, your finger poking through a large hole in the bottom, one of the main reasons Emily made you throw it out before you had gotten on the plane back to Portland with her. “I’m not sure how any of this works,” 

Your parents had never been forthcoming with information about the dreams. It was more than that. Your mother despised the concept of soulmates and the dreams that came with them. You supposed it was understandable. Your parents had split when you were young, your mother choosing the bottle over everything and your father choosing his 19-year-old girlfriend. 

You always wondered if her use of alcohol was to suppress the dreams so she didn’t have to see him and deal with the pain and if it actually worked. You wondered if she would have been happier if she hadn't. 

You never got the chance to ask. She had never cared enough to let you. 

“Emily said sometimes our feelings translate to the dreams,” Lindsey hummed, drawing random patterns in the sand. “Like when Kelley is sad, it rains. Or when she’s missing Kelley it’ll be unbearably hot,”

You nodded, digesting the information. You could understand that logic. Emily always did love physical contact when she was sad, so forcing her soulmate to cuddle with her naked made sense to you, but you weren’t sure it applied ot you and Lindsey. 

If anything the discrepancies in how you were dressed would only indicate how much the two of you were on completely different pages. Ice prickled in your veins at the thought, so you banished it. 

“I’m not sure,” You said slowly, pinching a bit of smooth sand. “I haven’t really given this whole thing that much thought,” 

It was the truth. You had been wholeheartedly consumed with acting like the cold sludge in your stomach didn’t roll every time she looked at you. You were consumed with pretending that you weren’t being numbed from the inside out. 

Her head dipped in agreement, as she cupped another handful of sand and slowly let it drip from her palm, forming perfect sandcastles. “I think we’re in your dream this time. I’ve never been here,” 

“It’s New Smyrna Beach,” You supplied easily, letting the velvety sand run through your fingers, enjoying how the cool granules contrasted with Lindsey’s burning gaze. “It’s on the east coast of Florida, just south of Saint Augustine,” 

Lindsey made a low noise, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. Everyone knew you had gone to Florida after the World Cup, but very few actually knew where you had gone. You were incredibly tight-lipped about it, no matter how hard Lindsey pressed. 

You were sure that your surroundings, complete with the one person orange tent you had stayed in, weren’t what she had in mind. 

“You vacationed there after we got back from France,” She said finally, and you had to fight to keep your face neutral, to keep the full body shiver from rocking through you. 

You wouldn’t necessarily call the months you had spent as a beach bum a vacation. It had been a necessary evil. An escape. 

A way to outrun the emotions that being back in fucking France had brought up. A way to get that coach’s voice out of your head, because scoring twice on the team that represented him just hadn’t been enough to quiet those thoughts.  A way to pretend like you and Lindsey hadn’t- 

You shook your head. You weren’t supposed to think of the night of the world cup. Of what would have been had Kelley not knocked on your door. 

It was probably for the best. You wouldn’t have been able to handle being one of her regrets on top of everything else. 

“You never told me what you were doing down here,” She mumbled, seemingly offhandedly, but you knew better. You could tell how invested in the conversation thought the sudden tightness in her back, and the way she was deathgripping the sand. 

You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Surfing mostly,” 

It wasn’t a total lie. You had spent most of your days surrounded by the waves, covered in salt water and sand. It was easy not to think when you were in the surf. 

“You wouldn’t answer anyone's calls,” Lindsey pushed further. 

You tried not to flinch at the distinct wobble in her voice. It made the sludge in your chest slosh and the ice crystals in your veins to grow. You never wanted to hurt her.

You waved your hand towards the north end of the beach, masking your wince. “I threw my phone off a pier,” 

“But why?”

Her hand caught your arm, forcing you to look at her. Her blue eyes burned. They reminded you of how they looked the night you told her what the coaching staff at PSG was doing to you. They rendered you naked and exposed. They pleaded with your very soul. 

But you couldn't tell her. She had asked you to be normal. She asked that nothing change. 

It was more important to you to keep your promise. 

“I just,” You averted your eyes, searching the lapping sea for the answer. To tell her without telling her. “I needed a break. It was too hard,” 

You wanted her to acknowledge what had happened between the two of you. You wanted her to admit that it wasn’t just a passing moment brought on by the excitement of winning the world cup. You desperately wanted her to admit that the two of you had been soulmates long before you shared your first dream.

It was selfish, you knew that, to expect that of her, but you craved it. 

It had been too hard for you to stay around her when she wasn’t going to do any of those things. 

“You’ve never shut me out like that before,” Lindsey said desperately. “Why couldn’t you have taken a break in Portland,” You swore an unspoken “with me” belonged out the end of the sentence. 

You shrugged. She wasn’t at a place where she would understand.  

“My brother lives in Miami,” You explained softly, your tooth catching your top lip as you tried to string together the right words. “I thought that maybe I’d be able to… I don’t know… understand him more if I was down here,”

It was easier to throw blame on him, to hide behind your family problems to avoid everything. Lindsey could understand those. 

“Did it help?” She asked earnestly, and it made your chest ache. She cared just not in the way you so desperately wanted her to. 

“No.” You snorted. “He’s as much of an ass as he always was but the waves, the sun, and the sand were good for me,” 

She nodded, elbowing your upper arm. “You did have one hell of a tan after you came back,” 

“Can’t get that in Portland,” You chuckled.

“Ty says Greece is the best place to get a tan,” 

It was like a pin in the sudden balloon that had filled your chest. 

You sucked in a shallow breath, trying to pretend like it didn’t hurt. Trying to pretend like his very name didn’t send a numb wave through you and have your mothers cackling laugh resounding in your head. 

Your soulmate had chosen someone else. You weren’t worthy of her. 

“Greece is ok,” You shrugged, dragging your fingers through the sand, and picking up a handful. “This beach is less crowded. It kinda grew on me.” 

You flipped your hand on its side, letting the sand slide through, landing in a perfectly imperfect tower shape. You tried not to think about how much it represented you. How things seemed to fall into place, and out of place all at the same time. 

“I’ll have to suggest it to him,” She hummed, completely unaware of your inner war. 

“Yeah,” You muttered, breathing out through your nose, willing yourself to just wake up. 

You forced yourself to watch the sand as it trickled through your fingers, begging whoever would listen in your head to just let you open your eyes. 

You didn’t want to share this place with anyone besides Lindsey. 

Especially not the person who she had chosen over you. The person who would always be more worthy than you. 

*****

You had known that you weren’t going to fool Christen or Tobin. Both women just knew you too well.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t send your usual check in text after you landed- though you would argue it was because you passed out from exhaustion later. Maybe it was because you weren’t even sure how to put what had happened into words. Every time you tried, they got stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even look yourself in the eyes in your bathroom mirror and say that Lindsey was your soulmate and you were ok with her not wanting you. (not that you spent an hour trying). 

But you should have known that by not sending the little text, it would tip them off more than they already were.

It was something so small, but so fundamental in your relationship with them. It started while you, Lindsey and Tobin were still at PSG. It was a way for her to help you stop the things that were happening, and it included Christen shortly after Tobin had rescued you and Lindsey. 

The curly hair forward had taken to you immediately, and vice versa. So much so that the team teased she was your team mom. But your relationship was so much deeper. You went to her with your worry and for advice when you didn’t know how to navigate a situation, and she cared for you in a way that your own family never had.  

You always texted her because you didn’t want her to worry.

Except this time you hadn’t. 

You had half expected her to show up at your apartment the next morning before practice, a cup of coffee in hand, but all that had been waiting for you was a text, hoping you had gotten back to your studio apartment safely. 

You were grateful that she didn’t. It gave you time to get a handle on the numbness that did everything in its power to consume you. To get a handle on the slowly dying tissue around the sludge in your chest. 

You weren’t surprised Christen was waiting for you, leaning against the front of her car when you pulled up to the practice field, but she didn’t pounce on you the second you got out of the car. 

She let you get out and grab your bag from the front seat, waiting until you were nearly at her car before she pushed off the hood. She paused, gently grasping your shoulders tightly for a long moment, before pulling you into a tight hug. 

The hug you so desperately needed. 

It fought against the cool numbness that seemed content to settle in your veins.

“Hey kid,” She hummed into your hair, squeezing you tightly. 

You leaned into her comfort, burying your head into her neck and hugging her back just as tightly. “Hey,” 

Her hands rubbed up and down your back, letting you cling to her for several long minutes, before very slowly pulling away. She held you at arms length, again searching you for something. 

“You feeling alright?” Her voice was soft, gently, the voice she only used when she was worried. The voice she had used the first time you stepped into Emily’s apartment after Florida. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling tightly up at her. “Just tired. All this flying around the country takes it out of a person,” 

Her shoulders relaxed a bit at your half-hearted attempt at a joke. 

“I’m sure it had nothing at all to do with the shows you put on in Columbus and Chester,” she chuckled, letting you go so the two of you could head towards the practice field. 

“And yet Vlatko is still up my ass like a suppository,” You grumbled, beginning to walk towards the training field.“I think he told me about the U20’s coming to take my sport more times than he talked about tactics,” 

“What else happened at camp?” 

She tried to ask the question casually, but you knew it was anything but. You wondered how much Emily had told her. 

You shrugged. “The usual,” 

“Really?”Christen asked incredulously. “That’s why Emily was sending texts last night to make sure we checked on you?” 

Usually, your first descriptors were of your friends, followed by a story about whatever shenanigans you all had gotten up to. The only time you hadn’t was the camp right after the World Cup. The only time Emily had texted them in warning was right after the World Cup too. 

You couldn’t help the low “traitor” that left your lips. 

“What Emily does is her prerogative,” You grumbled back, pulling your bag more tightly to your shoulder. “And I turned my phone off. I passed out when I got home, and the buzzing kept waking me up,”

Her head tilted to the side. Her and Tobin had only texted you once each. 

“What happened in the groupchat?” She paused, her fingers closing around your wrist and pulling you to a stop. 

You shrugged, finding a pebble under your sneaker more interesting than Christen’s concerned eyes. 

You never wanted her to worry. It made the pit in your stomach bubble. Another reason you would never be worthy of a soulmate. 

“Come on,” She pressed, her other hand catching your chin and gently forcing you to look up. “What’s happening?”

You didn’t miss the double meaning to her words. You rarely did. 

“I’m not sure,” You sighed, only telling a half-truth. “I don’t find a point in keeping up with Lindsey and Mal and their boyfriend drama,” 

You couldn’t help the bitterness that leaked into your voice. It hurt every time she mentioned him in the chat, like she was twisting the dagger in your chest just a little more. Like she was reminding you how much better for her he was. 

Plus the never ending text chain from your brother made you flinch every time you opened your Lock Screen. 

Christen’s eyes studied you for a long minute, before she nodded once. You knew she wasn’t fooled. 

You were afraid if she pressed harder you would crumble. You were thankful she let go of your chin and allowed you to head back towards the field. 

You had no doubt she would be watching you. 

****

Christen hadn’t needed you to forget to send her your normal made it home safe text to know something was wrong. She also hadn’t needed Emily’s heads up. 

She had known something was off before you went to camp, and now, well it was painfully obvious to her that things were getting worse instead of better. There was an odd tension that coated your every movement. A strange hesitance where she had never seen you hesitate before.

But she knew better than to confront you with it, that would only make you slip further back into the shell you had built long ago to protect yourself. It would only make you hide your pain more in some convoluted attempt to protect whoever. It would only make you run. 

She waited and watched and worried her bottom lip as you fumbled your way through warmups. 

It wasn’t that you were playing sloppy. It was that your head just didn't seem in it. You weren’t having fun and it was painfully obvious. 

You didn’t have your characteristic easy smile as drills started. Instead your face was etched with worry lines and stoicism that Christen had only seen from you during the tail end of your time in France. 

“Jesus Christ,” You grumbled as Simone again drove the defenders the wrong way, forcing the little pocket you had found yourself in to close, and cutting off the shot you were trying to set up. 

Christen raised her eyebrow at you, passing you a water as you hit the sidelines. 

You were usually pretty good with the young players, offering advice and rarely snapping when they made mistakes. You liked to teach and you knew people didn’t learn when you yelled at them. 

“They don’t know how to split the fucking defenders and they keep driving everyone towards me,” you explained, gesturing towards the two other forwards Freya had paired you with. “I’ve told them 3 times that the back line will continue to collapse the pockets if they don’t keep their spacing,”

“They’re young,” Christen supplied easily, her eyes tracing your features, noting how much more prominent the dark circles under your eyes were in the streaming sunlight. 

“But they don’t know how to fucking listen,” You huffed, spraying more water into your mouth. “At least Emily and Rose pay attention when I talk,” 

“You, Emily, Rose, and Lindsey have more practice,” She said pointedly, noting the omission of the blond midfielder in your sentence. “They’ve had time to gel with you. The new kids will get it, it’ll just take some time and patience,” 

You rolled your eyes in time with your shoulders, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at the mere mention of Lindsey’s name. You didn’t have the right to feel the feelings curling uncomfortably in your chest. “We don’t have time, and I’m running out of patience,” 

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed. While you weren’t one of the most patient people on the planet, you always showed patients with the young ones. You showed them the same courtesy that you wished someone had shown you. 

“I just want to play, and it’s like they’re not even on my team,” You muttered, earning an even deeper frown. 

She wondered how deep it went. How much it related to whatever happened at camp and not the young LA team. 

“Listen to me,” Christen said gently, grabbing your shoulders, trying to catch your eyes. “We are on your team. What’s going on?”

You closed your eyes, running a frustrated hand through your hair. “It’s not fucking acceptible. I had 18 shots on goal in the game against Uzbekistan, I only scored 5 a piece. I can’t fucking link up with them. It just…” 

You paused, the words seemingly getting stuck in your throat, and you waved your hand helplessly. 

“You’re under a lot of pressure,” She supplied easily, grabbing your hand and squeezing 3 times. A silent I Love You, but it didn’t loosen the knot in your chest.  

“I was fucking distracted. It’s not acceptable,” You huffed, running another hand through your already tousled hair. It was hard to focus when all you saw every time you closed your eyes was a mix of blue and blonde. It was hard to focus when all you could do was dissect every interaction you had out of fear you were too close or not close enough. You didn’t know how to be without Lindsey, but you couldn’t act like she wanted you to. “I need-“

“To relax,” Christen cut you off gently, her eyes searching you for a clue at what was bothering you, for a peek inside your head, for a reason you were so tense. “You need to relax,”

You blew out a long breath. You had always played your best when you were relaxed, dancing in the locker room with your friends before a game. It was hard when you were struggling to even call your best friend your friend anymore. 

“What’s got you so wound?” She asked you, worry evident in her tone. “What’s going on in that head of yours,” 

Things didn’t usually turn out well when you internalized your emotions. You buried your feelings until they boiled over, and your favorite target for that pain was yourself. The scars on your legs and back were proof of that. 

“I just-,” You sighed, shaking your head and chewing your lip, glancing towards your teammates (none of which had earned your unyielding trust). “It’s complicated,” 

Christen sighed, glancing towards the team behind you. She understood your hesitancy to talk in front of them. You were hesitant enough when no one was watching. 

“How about you come over for dinner, I’ll have Tobin make your favorite and we can chat and relax over some wine?” The striker offered you gently, squeezing your arm. 

“Yeah,” You sighed, leaning into the hand, taking any support you could get. “Dinner would be nice,” 

****

As it turned out, dinner was nice. Tobin made you Mac and cheese and Christen poured you a too expensive glass of wine, and you couldn’t help but relax as they chatted about their latest re-inc project. 

It was nice to let them distract you, even if it felt a bit like you were under a microscope. They were just so good at reading you. 

But no one had mentioned what they saw yet. No one had mentioned how often your phone buzzed, or how you sunk a bit anytime they ventured towards the topic of the team. 

You blew out a long breath, taking a short sip of your wine, resting your elbows on the railing of Tobin’s balcony. 

The Los Angeles skyline twinkled below you, nearly as good as Portland, but not quite. 

At least it didn’t make your chest ache like you knew the Koin Center and Wells Fargo building would. 

You couldn’t look at them without thinking of her. Your life was so intertwined with hers that you feared it would be like that anywhere you went. 

But that was your problem. Not Lindsey’s. 

You sighed, pulling another long sip of your wine as the glass door slid open behind and a familiar presence settled beside you. 

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. 

“Thanks for dinner,” You mumbled, swirling your wine around your glass, wishing it was something stronger instead. “Mama Heath’s Mac and cheese is always the best,”

“No problem,” Tobin shrugged, and it was easy. Familiar. “I’ll have to tell her you think so,”

“Sorry, I’m not great company,” You muttered, sipping your glass. 

You felt Tobin shrug. “We just want you to know we’re here for you,” 

You nodded. You did know that they were there for you. They had always been there for you. Tobin had helped you in France, acting as a shield between you and the coaching staff. She had worked with Emily to find you after France and remind you that it wasn’t soccer that you hated. Christen had been the one to orchestrate your trade to LA after things got too weird for you in Portland. 

They had always been there to help you pick up the pieces of yourself and work through your emotions. They were the family you never had. 

But they were Lindsey’s family too. 

You didn’t want them to turn on her because of you, but you felt like you had to tell someone what was happening. Like finally saying it out loud would quell the chilling acid in your chest. 

And if anyone would understand it was Tobin. 

“I met my soulmate,” you admitted softly, sipping the last bit of wine out of your glass. 

“I would congratulate you, but I’m sensing a but,” She breathed out, and you felt her eyes in the side of your face. 

Worried and not judgemental. 

Your lips tilted up at the answer. “She doesn’t want to be my soulmate,” 

“Did she tell you that?” Tobin pressed, gently taking the glass from your hand. 

It was only then that you realized how tightly you clutched the fragile edge. 

“She has a boyfriend, and she loves him. She’s made it incredibly clear,” You couldn’t keep the bitter edge out of your voice, a look at the gaping wound in your chest, oozing every time you so much as thought about it. 

“Damn,” Tobin sighed, placing both of your glasses on the balcony table and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Is she someone we know?”

“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger playing with a crack in the balcony’s handrail, debating whether or not you were going to tell her more. Debating if you would risk them turning on Lindsey. “I get to see her all the time,” 

“That sucks,” She agreed. 

You hummed. 

It did suck. Really sucked. 

What sucked worse was that you had agreed to be her friend afterward. They always said it was better to have your soulmate in some capacity than none, but God did it fucking hurt. It was like she had to prove how much better her boyfriend was than you, and you hated the feeling in the pit of your stomach when she showed that she was right. 

You should be able to be an adult about this. 

But you just…. Couldn’t. 

You let the silence linger between you, feeling more comfortable than you had in weeks in Tobin’s presence. 

If anyone understood, she did. You knew that. 

“Christen was dating someone when you dreamt with her for the first time, wasn’t she?” You asked softly, keeping your eyes on the Las Angeles skyline, and trying to ignore her sharp intake of breath. 

Tobin swallowed hard, squeezing your shoulder, seemingly trying to gain the strength to answer you. 

“She was,” She admitted, and you heard the strain in her voice. 

You blinked at her honesty, finally looking up at her thoughtful expression. “How did you work through that?”

“We were in college. We were rivals more than anything else,” She explained, grimacing slightly at what you assumed was embarrassment or pain at the memory. “It changed after we got to go to camp together. We were drawn together like magnets, and at some point, she wasn’t dating him anymore and I was available so it just kind of happened,” 

You nodded, your lips forming a thin line, your heart sinking just a bit. 

Lindsey knew you and had decided she didn’t want to be your soulmate. You were friends. She knew you and had decided that you weren’t good enough. 

“Does it ever go away?” The question was soft, and vulnerable as it left your lips. 

“The weight in your stomach?” Tobin asked you gently. You nodded once and she squinted, taking a long second to find the answer. “Mine didn’t leave until we were together for a while,” 

“Did she feel it too?” You asked. 

It was the question you wanted to know since you had the dream. Did she feel the same sludge in her chest that you did? Was she in the same pain you were? Was she avoiding sleep too? 

“I don’t think that’s a me question,” Tobin said slowly, and you felt yourself deflate just a bit. “It’s not something Chris and I talk about a lot, but I know that we were both hurting in different ways,” 

“I think it would be easier if she didn’t want to be friends,” You admitted. It made you feel guilty that part of you wished you didn't know Lindsey. That you didn’t share the history you did. “At least then I wouldn’t have to hear about him,” 

You missed Tobins furrowed eyes as she tried to figure out exactly who it was. She knew better than to ask, that would only cause you to pull away. 

“I felt that way too, but I think the silence was worse in the end,” She answered after a long second. 

You blinked up at her, pulling out of her embrace just far enough to see her expression. “How did you deal with it?”

She chuckled darkly. “I didn’t,”  

You could understand why someone wouldn't. You didn’t want to deal with it either, but it felt like you were being forced to. 

“I cut her off completely, which wasn’t a problem until we were on the same team,” Tobin continued, shaking her head. 

You nodded, understanding the feeling. If only it were that simple. Lindsey was competitive and stubborn, and you knew she wouldn’t let you cut her off. Not after you already agreed that nothing would be different. 

Tobin squeezed your shoulder as if could feel your pain. 

“Just tell her how you feel,” She suggested gently, “sometimes all it takes is a conversation,” 

“It’s Lindsey,” You snorted, shaking your head. “She already knows how I feel,” 

There was an unspoken- and she still didn’t want me- that hung in the air. 

You barely heard Tobin’s “Oh,” but you felt her squeeze you even tighter. 

“Yeah, oh,” You sighed miserably. 

“I mean, I’m not surprised you two are soulmates,” Tobin said, her chin resting on top of your head. “You’ve been pining after each other forever,” 

You chuckled bitterly. You had been tied at the hip since you were 17, dancing the line between friends and something more, crossing that line more times than you’d like to admit. “Except now she has a boyfriend, and she doesn’t want things to change between us,” 

“Except things have changed,” Tobin supplied, holding you closer. 

“I promised her they wouldn’t,” You mumbled. 

Tobin blew out a long breath. “That’s tough kid,” 

And you wondered if that was the crux of your pain. Would it feel different if you hadn’t said yes? Would it hurt less? 

A long silence stretched between you, comforting in a way that words wouldn’t have been, and you glanced back through the door to see Christen working too hard on drying a plate. 

“Just,” Tobin said slowly, shaking her head as if she knew something you didn’t. “Just tell her how you feel, and give her some time. She’ll come around,” 

You hummed, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You doubted she would ever see you for more than her friend. You doubted she would ever deem you worthy enough to be her soulmate. 

“Do you think Christen is done with the dishes? Or is she waiting for your signal?” You asked instead of arguing with her. Arguing wouldn’t do you any good. 

You appreciated their subtlety, but you knew the striker had to be stalling. 

Tobin shrugged, unfazed at getting caught. “She knows it’s easier for you to talk to me, but she’s worried too. Especially about the way your phone has been blowing up,” 

You cringed. You were hoping that they wouldn’t bring it up, despite how often it had interrupted your dinner. “People think if they harass me, I’ll be more likely to answer and say yes,” 

Tobin let out a low snort. “They obviously don’t know you’re more inclined to destroy it than answer,” 

“At least I didn’t throw it off a pier this time,” You chuckled, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t want to talk about your phone, or your brother’s inability to take a fucking hint. You knew Tobin would be less inclined to let you avoid explanation. 

She squeezed your shoulder. “I know you don’t want to talk about whatever, but Just know Chris and I are here for you, no matter what,” 

You gulped but nodded nonetheless.

“Are you going to tell her?” 

The question was soft, hesitant, and showed the vulnerability you were reluctant to ever express. 

“You know we don’t keep secrets from each other,” Tobin reminded you gently. 

You swallowed again. You knew transparency was important to them. That they never kept secrets from each other. “I just don’t want her to lose you guys,” 

Tobin sighed heavily. 

It was just like you to try to help Lindsey even if it killed you, to ensure that she would be ok despite how much she had already hurt you.  

“Neither of you will lose us,” She said finally, pulling you tighter to her. “But I won’t let her mistreat you either,” 

You hummed, burying your face in her neck, accepting the comfort it was clear you needed. 

“Come on kid. Chris got chocolate cake because she knows it’s your favorite,” Tobin said, patting your back. “We can have a movie night and you can crash here if you want,”

You hummed, nodding into her neck. “That would be nice,” 

You knew she was asking for her own peace of mind. She knew you better than you knew yourself. She knew you would spiral if they let you. 

And you would let yourself be protected. 

*****

You would never get used to the feeling of waking up in a shared dream. The weird way the colors blended, and you were overcome with the most potent form of dejavu you had ever encountered. 

The world blurred into focus. Like you were spinning too fast and then suddenly came to a stop. Like you were seeing the world upside down and suddenly it was right side up. 

It made you want to vomit, despite the aching slush being absent from your stomach. 

It killed you as your eyes opened, because everything felt right, and you knew that it was anything but. It was only a matter of time before you were reminded of how unworthy of your soulmate you were. 

You sighed, closing your fingers around the soft grass underneath you. The bed that was softer than your real childhood bed. The safe space that had always welcomed you until you moved to france. 

You let out a low breath, loathe to sit up and actually face the woman you knew was beside you. 

This place was too sacred for you to desecrate. You tried to remember that you were really on Tobin and Christen’s couch, tucked under one of their blankets like you had been for the last 3 weeks. You tried to remember that nothing that happened here would be real. 

“How is this grass so soft?”

You squeezed your eyes shut even tighter at her voice, hoping that you could make it hurt less if you didn’t look at her. 

“Mr. Barns used to water it by hand,” You said softly, remembering the summer days your mother kicked you out of the house at 6 and didn’t let you back in until well past dinner. If she let you back in. “I helped him sometimes in the summer. He would give me lunch,” 

She hummed, and you felt her settle down beside you, so your arms were nearly touching.  “You don’t talk about your childhood a lot,”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin where her elbow brushed you, and you gulped. “I don’t like to think about it. It wasn’t a normal childhood,” 

“Did any of us have a normal childhood?” Lindsey countered, trying to copy what you and her had deemed Tobins wise old lady voice. 

It made you shiver. She knew how bad your childhood was. She had heard the stories of the horror stories that haunted you at night. 

You cleared your throat, averting your gaze. “I used to sleep out here sometimes. It was easier than going home,” 

You ran your hand over the grass as if to prove your point. 

“Why am I not surprised you preferred to sleep on a soccer field as a kid,” Lindsey snorted, and you bit your lip to avoid cringing. 

She made it sound like you had chosen to sleep on the field. Like your mother hadn’t given you the choice of being locked in a closet or sleeping outside. 

“Yeah,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t like to talk about it,” 

Lindsey made a noise in the back of her throat, too focused on picking a blade of grass. “How about we talk about the radio silence then,” 

You stiffened, your back going rigid. “Everyone’s just lucky I didn’t throw my phone off Tobin’s balcony,” 

Lindsey chuckled as though you were being sarcastic (you weren’t). “That many girls have been blowing you up?”

Your head tilted to the side, and your eyebrows furrowed without your consent. You didn’t understand her fascination with your sex life. Not that you had one. Not since France…

“What girls?” 

It slipped past your lips before you could think to stop it, confusion clear in your voice. 

Lindsey scoffed. “You can’t seriously tell me that you haven’t been hooking up. You haven't answered any of my calls or texts,” 

Her voice was almost… possessive. Your frown deepened, and you shook away the thought. There was no way, right? It wouldn’t make sense with how she had her very own boyfriend. 

“My brother has been harassing me. I shoved it in my sock drawer to dampen the sound,” You said, your voice softer than you expected it to be. 

A byproduct of your inner surprise you told yourself. Definitely not because you needed her to know that there was no one else for you. Definitely not because it made the sludge in your chest suddenly reappear when she mentioned that she thought you were seeing other people. 

It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair. But what out of any of this had been?

“Oh,” Lindsey muttered, her fingers catching the grass and rolling it between her fingers, and you could have sworn you saw her nose crinkle at the mention of him. “What does he want?”

Your shoulders lifted and fell, both because you didn’t want to answer the question and because you wished she had been dejected for another reason. You wished she cared enough to be bothered that it wasn’t just her you were ignoring. Instead, she looked relieved. 

“I’m not taking his calls,” You answered your voice more horse than you intended it to be, showing more emotions than you wanted to. “He’s an asshole,” 

Lindsey paused at your characterization, her shoulders slumping in a way you didn’t quite understand. “Am I an asshole too?” 

You could see how she made the jump, but that wasn’t why you were avoiding her. It just hurt too much to hear how wonderful Ty was to her. How he was so much better than you. 

Really, it had been Christen's suggestion after a particularly bad day had nearly sent you into a panic attack and you wouldn’t tell her why. It was bad enough that you had spilled your guts to Tobin. They didn’t need to know the pressure your brother was putting on you. 

You shook your head. “You’re not trying to guilt trip me into doing things I don’t want to,”

It was technically the truth, though it wasn’t entirely accurate. You didn’t want to pretend like everything was fine, but it was nothing in comparison to your brother’s request. His demand. His inability to take no for an answer. 

“What does he want you to do?” 

You felt Lindsey’s eyes on the side of your face, and the concern seeping through her words. It nearly caught you off guard. It nearly let your brain slip into the place where you could convince yourself that the thing between you hadn’t changed. That she cared about you in the way you cared about her. 

You gulped, finally gaining the courage to look up from the grass and meet her eyes. They were burning blue, just as they had been so many times before. Protective in a way that only Lindsey could be. Loved in a way that you had only felt when you were with her. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

It made you feel like she cared. As a friend you reminded yourself. 

Only a friend. 

“It’s complicated,” You finally settled on the phrase. 

“More complicated than Florida?” She fired back like she already had the remark prepared. 

You cringed. She probably did. You hated that Florida had become her litmus test for you, even when the situations were entirely unrelated. 

Your brother had Ignored you while you were in Florida. The only person you spoke to was Emily when the nurse wouldn’t let you check out of the hospital on your own. That was the only reason anyone knew anything. 

You hated that Lindsey couldn’t seem to let it go. 

“It’s different,” You hedged carefully, rolling a blade of grass between your fingers. “He’s asking me to forget that they didn’t want me,” 

You didn’t think it was fair for him to try to leverage your mother's dying wish against you, even after all of the shit she had done. And you tried not to think about how much Lindsey didn’t want you. 

Lindsey frowned, and you could see the wheels turning in her head. 

She reached over and caught your hand, oblivious to the shivers it sent through your spine and how even the small touch made goosebumps appear in her wake. 

Your head jerked up to meet her blue. “It would be their loss. Not yours,” 

You gulped, trying not to focus on how the words felt like she was twisting the knife in your chest just a bit, or how the place where her hand touched your arm felt like it was on fire. 

It wasn’t a fair statement. How could it be when she didn't even want you, and she was tied to you? You wanted to ask if it was her loss. 

Your shoulders lifted and dropped. 

It was the safest response you could muster. One that wouldn’t force her to reinforce how much she didn’t want you. One that would allow you to delude yourself into thinking she cared. 

Lindsey sighed. 

She had always been good at reading you. 

“You promised me nothing would change,” She mumbled, and you shrunk a bit. Her voice was soft, caring, and concerned. It lured you in. 

You shook your head. “Things haven’t changed,” 

The words felt like acid in your throat. You could hear the thinness in them. The lie. 

Everything had changed.

You knew Lindsey heard it too. Her raised eyebrow told you as much. 

You sighed, “I’m trying, alright?” 

It was too soft. Too vulnerable. 

And you watched Lindsey’s face change. 

“It shouldn’t be so hard,” She gritted out, and you flinched at the sudden ice in her voice. The edge waiting to slice you open. “Why can’t you just be normal? We’re friends.”

You gulped down the retort on the top of your tongue. The words that would blow everything wide open. 

You and Lindsey had always been on the edge of friends. Friends didn’t do the things the two of you did. 

“I’m just…-“ You paused, looking down at her hand still on your arm. “I have a lot going on. I’m doing my best,” 

You repeated the words that Christen had given you, and you felt Lindsey relax. Her fingers tightened around your forearm. 

“Just remember you’re not alone,” 

Your head tilted to the side. You knew those words were carefully chosen as well. 

“I’ll try,” You sighed, pulling away and willing yourself to wake up. It didn’t hurt so much when you could pretend she didn’t care. When you couldn’t see the concern etched across her features. “I’m trying,” 

Her fingers tightened around your arm as the scene faded away like she was trying to keep you there, even as you jerked into consciousness. 

You could have sworn she was saying something. A part of you wanted to know what it was, but the larger part of you was grateful that you didn’t. 

No matter what it was, it would make everything hurt that much worse. The ache in your chest was already unbearable most days. 

You sighed, running your knuckles into the place where your heart throbbed, pushing yourself up off of the couch. 

It was worse when she pretended like she cared, even when you knew she didn’t. Not in the way you wanted her to. 

You ran a hand through your hair, grabbing a stray ball that way laying around and heading towards the door. Hopefully, some practice would quell the gnawing hole slowly growing in your chest. 

All you could do was try. 

*******

You thought you understood exhaustion when you were in France. You thought you understood it during your second season when you played every minute you were available in Portland. you thought you understood it at the very end of last camp. 

In the 4 months since you had your first shared dream, you realized that there was an entirely new level of weariness and fatigue beyond anything you had ever experienced. It settled deep into your bones, replacing your normal energy with lead. It ate away at your soul, and you feared that when all was said and done there would be nothing of yourself left. 

You knew that was the consequence of being rejected by your soulmate, of not being good enough for your soulmate, and of your refusal to sleep. You couldn’t share dreams if you didn’t have them. 

You would slowly lose everything that made you yourself. 

What was more shocking to you was that your on-field performance hadn’t wavered, despite the wide berth the team gave you when you weren’t on the pitch. It had only gotten better, according to every commentator in the NWSL. 

You supposed it made sense, the suffocation of your soul leading to a more cold and calculating performance. Or maybe it was just your pain coming out in aggression toward the unfortunate defenders that you played against. 

Either way, you were having the season of your life, and you were hating every single moment of it. 

“I’m not going,” You mumbled, as you pulled your shin guards out of your socks, barely looking up at Christen. “You can tell Kelley I got sick or whatever, but I don’t want to deal with it,” 

It took effort to look up, and you knew it would just show her how little sleep you were getting despite their insistence that you stay on their couch. 

It would also take effort to go to dinner with Kelley and Emily after the game and to pretend like you weren’t slowly disintegrating from the inside out.  

“Or you can tell her and Emily yourself,” The striker countered, settling down on the bench next to you, careful not to touch you as you had been particularly sensitive after your last shared dream. “Unless you skip the game, you’re going to see them,” 

You cursed under your breath, tossing your guards into your bag with too much force. Why couldn’t things ever be easy?  “Freya won’t let me skip the Washington game,” 

“Not a chance,” Tobin agreed, settling down on your other side, effectively trapping you between them. 

You had been playing too well for your coach to let you sit out without giving a good reason, and trying to explain that you didn’t want to see your friends because your soulmate was your other friend and she had a fucking boyfriend wasn’t something you wanted to do. No matter how nice the coach was. 

“Damn it,” You grumbled, leaning back on the wall beside your locker with a thump. It was almost too much for your tired brain to work through. 

You had partially forgotten that you would see Kelley and Emily at the game as well as after. 

It was once in a season that you got to play Kelley and Emily in LA, so of course, they wanted to hang out after the game. Normally you would be excited to see your best friend and her soulmate, but since your last shared dream with Lindsey, you were dreading it. 

Hell, you had been dreading it since you started ignoring your phone. 

You loved Emily and Kelley, but they were too perceptive for their own good. They would ask questions you didn’t want to answer and slowly pry the truth from you. Then they would hate Lindsey, and that wasn’t fair to her. 

She had been friends with Lindsey longer than she had been friends with you after all. 

Or it was possible that they both already knew. That Lindsey had already told them, and they were just waiting for the right opportunity to tell you how much they agreed with her. To confirm what you already knew, that you were unworthy of your soulmate. 

You could still feel the tingle of Lindsey’s fingers on your arm, her words “it would be their loss” still lingered in your brain like a bad cough despite them being spoken nearly two weeks ago. 

You shivered. 

Either way, you couldn’t face them. You couldn’t deal with the possibilities. You couldn’t bear to see Emily’s disappointed gaze. You wouldn’t be able to stand it if you lost her too, despite the way you were pushing her away. 

There was a reason you had called her when you were in Florida instead of anyone else. A reason that you had clung to her afterward. 

She treated you like you were normal. Despite almost drowning in Florida. Despite her having to check you out of the hospital. Despite you running away in France after you and Lindsey almost-... 

“It’ll be fun,” Christen said, nudging your shoulder. “we’ll talk about Bagel and the Spirit drama, and all you have to do is smile and nod,”

“She’ll hate me when she finds out,” you groaned, scrubbing your eyes, your nails digging and scraping at the skin above your eyebrows. You were never good at hiding things from Emily or Kelley for that matter. 

You should be able to be reasonable and be Lindsey’s friend. You should be able to respect her wishes. She was right, it shouldn’t be so hard. 

But it just hurt so fucking much. It didn’t matter how nice she was about it, every interaction felt like a knife slipping between your ribs and into the soft, vulnerable tissue, twisting unrelentingly, intent on bleeding you out. 

Christen caught your hands, carefully pulling them away from your eyes and laying them flat against her thigh. She rubbed soothing circles on the back of your palm. “No one will hate you,”

“You’re not the one who is being malicious,” Tobin added, in a tone that made you believe she 100% thought someone was. 

You frowned. Lindsey hadn’t done anything outright yet. Well, anything besides telling you that she loved her boyfriend, and while that hurt you, it wasn’t a direct shot across the bow. It also wasn’t anything deserving of Tobin’s direct ire. 

You regretted telling the midfielder-turned-winger about the back-and-forth game Lindsey seemed to enjoy. You regretted telling her how much it hurt you to not understand. To know exactly where you stood, the place you had always stood with Lindsey, in the blurry no man's land between friend and more than friend. A place filled with landmines and barbed wire poised to destroy you at the first misstep. 

You had already been cut more times than you’d like to admit. 

You pulled your hand out of her grip, running it through your messy curls, serving only to make them more wild. You hadn’t had the energy to style it, but now you were regretting that decision. It would be a bitch to fix later. 

You felt Christen and Tobin share a look over your head, communicating without words. You wanted to ask if that was a soulmate thing or just a preath thing because you doubted you would ever be in a place with Lindsey where you would be able to find out on your own. 

“Lindsey might not have told them yet,” Christen said gently. You felt her eyes return to the side of your face, and her fingers carefully weaved into your hair beginning to undo the knots. “And we don’t have to tell them either,” 

Tobin’s hand found the back of your neck, digging into the knot that always appeared there. You sighed. Their efforts at coercion were rather effective, especially with the three hours of sleep you had gotten (despite their best efforts).  

“But what if she did?” You asked, your voice showing more vulnerability than you wanted. “What if she told Emily that I wasn’t keeping my promise? That I wasn’t being a good friend?”

Tobin snorted, shaking her head. 

It was difficult for her to wrap her head around how you thought anyone would be upset with you in this situation. How you thought that any of this was your fault. 

“Kelley will be upset if any of this hurts Emily,” You said, softer. You knew how protective the older defender was, especially of her soulmate. 

It was one of the first things you learned about Kelley. She would murder anyone who hurt Emily. 

You were in pain, but you didn’t want to die. Not yet at least. 

Not by Kelley’s hand. 

“We will deal with Kelley,” Christen reassured you, sharing another look with Tobin. On the off chance that Kelley was upset, all it would take would be to mention the word soulmate and she would back off. 

It wasn’t just her soulmate she was protective of. 

“I don’t want anyone to fight,” You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut yet again, hoping it would help the heaviness in them. 

It didn't. 

Your phone buzzed obnoxiously in your bag because god forbid you get 30 seconds of peace. 

You wished you hadn’t told Lindsey about the calls, even Christen and Tobin hadn’t been able to pry it out of you. You wished you hadn’t used it as your excuse, because it felt like another thing that she could hold over you. 

“I just,” You blew out a shaky breath. “I want everything to go back to what it was before I had the stupid, fucking dream,” 

At least then you hadn’t had to face the feelings that continually bubbled in your chest. It had been easy to pretend that you didn’t want something more from Lindsey, something she would never give you outside the privacy of shared hotel rooms and fleeting nights in apartments. 

It was easy to pretend that her denials hadn’t been slowly unraveling you. That you hadn’t been self-destructing since well before the dream. 

“Avoiding sleep to avoid her isn’t helping you,” Christen said softly like she was speaking to a small child. It should have irritated you, but it didn’t. It made warmth bloom in your chest. “And neither is avoiding whoever is constantly calling you,” 

“How about we go home, and you can nap,” Tobin suggested, equally as gently, backing off. “And then you can decide if you want to get ‘sick’ after the game when you wake up?” 

You nodded, pulling your sweatshirt over your head. Thorns practice was about to begin, so it would be safe. 

She wouldn’t be able to follow you, and maybe you would finally get some peace.

Tobin's arm landed heavily on your shoulder as they guided you out of the locker room, and you leaned into her, hoping they would be able to drive the dreams away. 

If your soulmate wasn’t going to look out for you, they would. 

***** you sucked in a long breath as you blinked into consciousness, shifting awkwardly in your chair. 

You frowned. You had never entered one of the dreams sitting, and you idly wondered if the position was due to how you were leaning on Christen’s shoulder as you fell asleep. 

You shifted again in the chair, your fingers falling on the engraved trim, your eyes darted to the wood, painted a shiny gold. You dragged your eyes up the white tablecloth, accented with deep red napkins to the Crystal glasses and gold-rimmed plates. Several forks and spoons flanked the plate, glinting in the dim light of the table. 

Beyond your plate was a vase, filled to the brim with dark red roses, their color so vivid they looked like they were dripping, bleeding. Much like your heart you supposed. 

You shifted again in the chair, straightening your bow tie. 

You frowned. You never wore ties. 

“What the hell?” You mumbled, your fingers dragging down the satin lapels of the tux you were wearing, towards the shiny red vest that matched the tie. 

It was too much. Too fancy. Not at all something you would ever choose for yourself. 

“The restaurant had a dress code,” 

Your eyes snapped up to meet Lindsey’s piercing blue just beyond the roses, and you lost your breath. 

She was stunning. 

Her hair shimmered like gold in the low light, pulled to one side, cascading down her shoulder. You fought to keep your eyes from trailing down the plunging neckline of her shiny black dress, focusing instead on the sparkling diamond necklace around her neck. You dragged your eyes up to her red-painted lips and finally met her eyes. 

They burned into your soul as she casually sipped her wine like she was trying to read your mind. 

“I thought you said dress codes were a no-go,” You muttered, your head tilting to the side. “It’s why you wouldn’t go to the French Laundry with me while we were in New York. You said it was too posh,” 

She hummed, sipping her wine slowly, making you wait. “Ty took me out for our anniversary. He wanted to make it nice,” 

You swallowed hard, reaching for a glass of water to help your suddenly dry throat. 

Of course, she had gone out to fancy dinners with him. Of course, she was dressed up for him. You gulped down the sudden jealousy in your throat. 

She was dating him. You didn’t have a right to feel jealous. But the thought of her dressing in something for him made the sludge in your chest roll. 

You wondered if you were in the outfit that he had worn to impress her. You wondered if seeing you in it made you feel the way her dress made you feel. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” You asked carefully, placing the water glass back on the table. 

It took everything in you to keep your voice calm, level. To pretend. 

She hummed. “It was ok. The steak was overpriced and the wine was dry,” 

Your nose scrunched. You knew that Lindsey didn’t like the pomp of fancy restaurants. That she preferred tacos and margaritas to 500$ steaks. That she liked light, floral cocktails instead of pretentious wine. 

It made you wonder why he didn’t know that. 

“Sounds too fancy for me,” 

You settled on the comment. It was safe, easy, almost normal. 

She snorted. “It was too fancy for me too. Ty picked it,”

You wanted to ask why. If it was their anniversary, shouldn’t he have done something she wanted to do?

You swallowed your question, your comment, smiling pleasantly at her instead. At least you got to be with her like this.  “It’s nice he’s being so cool about all of this,” 

She paused, her wine glass pressed to her lips, taking too long of a sip before setting it down, swirling the red liquid around the glass. “Yeah,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, noting how her eyes didn’t meet yours and her fingers tapped the rim of the glass. 

“You haven’t told him yet,” 

It was a statement of fact, incredulous in its delivery, but proven by the way her teeth closed around her bottom red-painted lip. 

You didn’t know why you were surprised. Why would she tell him? Keeping it a secret was an entirely Lindsey thing to do. 

Still, it made you feel dirty. A secret. Something to be ashamed of.

“Why would I tell him?” Her lips curled around the question dangerously.“Nothing has changed,” 

You frowned at that. Everything had changed, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He deserved to know that his girlfriend was seeing another person in her dreams. That you were tied to her for the rest of your life. 

“Because I am your soulmate, Lindsey,” You said as though it was obvious, unable to stop it as it slipped past your lips. “Does that mean nothing to you?” 

“We are friends,” She gritted out, emphasizing the words. “I have a-,“ 

“Boyfriend that you love, yes I’ve heard,” You spat back, waving your hand dismissively. It was an old argument, and frankly, you were tired of it. “What are you going to do when he finds his soulmate? I’m not some fucking consolation prize,”

“That’s not. We’re not” She stuttered, her blue eyes wide, but you still couldn’t stop. 

“We’re not what Lindsey?” You asked, bitterness creeping into your voice. Bitterness you hadn’t shown her before. “We’ve been dancing around this since we were 16. We’ve kissed more times than I can count. We would have fucked again after the World Cup if Kelley hadn’t knocked on the fucking door, or did you forget that part of our relationship,” 

She shook her head, shoving herself up from the table, but you followed her. 

You knew you were pushing her, but you couldn’t be ignored. You felt like a volcano erupting, the words bubbling out of you like lava. “How long have you known I was in love with you? How long have you used that to get me to bend to your will? Friends don’t do the things that we do!” 

You watched her face morph from shock to anger. Her features hardened before your eyes. 

You had pushed too far. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that you’ve incorporated me into some gay fantasy of yours. We’re friends,” She hissed and you recoiled like you had been slapped. 

The words felt like venom, her voice the needle injecting it straight into your veins. 

“What?” 

It was the only word you could think of as your brain tried to process what she was saying. As she used the words your mother had used against you when she kicked you out. 

“It’s your pattern,” She said, her lips curling. “You did it with Tobin in France. You did it with Emily in Portland. I’m just the next poor soul on your list,” 

“No Sonnett is my friend-“ you stumbled over your words, trying to order your thoughts, but she cut you off with a vicious smirk. “And you and her were fucking until she found Kelley,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. you had never slept with Emily. She had been hung up on Kelley just like you we stuck in Lindsey. The only difference was that her and Kelley hadn’t blurred the line like you and Lindsey did. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“She was the one who found you in Florida. You shared her one-bedroom apartment, and you followed Tobin around like a lost puppy in France,” 

“Tobin helped me stop our coach from molesting both of us Lindsey,” You ground out, your voice shaking. “Tobin made sure he didn’t fucking kill me with the extra training sessions and lack of food. If anything, she was the one following me around.” 

Your chest heaved, but you weren’t finished. “Emily only knows about Florida because they wouldn’t let me check out of the hospital after I went surfing drunk. She didn’t want me to be alone while I was dealing with the fallout of You. We have never slept together,” 

You couldn’t help the way you sneered around the word. You couldn’t help how your fist clenched in the table cloth, shifting the too-expensive dining set. 

You wanted her to acknowledge you. 

“That’s not the point,” She bit back. 

“Then what is?” You asked, your hand hitting the table, all of your feelings finally pouring out. “I fucking love you. And I thought that you felt the same. We were back in that godforsaken city and you were kissing me. We would have-“ You shook your head, your voice turning earnest. “It was almost perfect,”

Silence hung between you, punctuated only by your heavy breathing. 

Her lips pressed tightly together, and you thought maybe you had gotten through to her. But something flashed in her eyes and her features hardened. She picked up her wine glass and swirled the red liquid around. 

“I am not gay,” She grit the words out, looking away from you as if she didn’t care about the damage she would inflict and sipping her glass. “I don’t love you, and it’s not my fault that you caught feelings,” 

You let the words sink in. Let them permeate your chest like acid, and erode the final bit of your aching heart. A cool numbness was already spreading out from the wound like you had been shot. 

You knew it was too good to be true during the World Cup. That her pursuit of you, her willingness to be around the team with you was nothing more than a fling. A whim caused by the bubble and excitement. 

You cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and hoped to wake up so you could release your emotions in peace. “I can’t keep my promise,” 

******

Lindsey jolted awake, her eyes snapping open, all of her nerves on edge like she had been dumped in ice water. Her breathing came in short pants as she sat up, her hand pressing into her eyes. 

She had never heard of people being so… jarred by the dreams they shared with their soulmates. She had never heard of them ending so abruptly.

Then again, most people didn’t try to deny their soulmate. 

She let out a breath, grinding her palms into her eyes further, trying to un-sear your blank expression from her mind. 

She knew that look well. You used it every time you had to deal with your family or your PSG coach. It was your way of shielding yourself. Of pulling away so nothing could hurt you. 

She had never had that look directed at her, and it made her soul ache. 

She had never planned on hurting you, it had just kind of… happened. 

The relief that had flooded through her the moment she saw you for the first time in her dreams was indescribable. It was like the moment your goalie makes a save in a PK shootout. No. It was more. It was the moment you score after the save. 

But then she remembered. She could feel her parents' words etched into her very existence. 

She was meant to grow up and find the man of her dreams. Her knight in shining armor. 

Her mother had filled her head from the time she was small with stories of princes sweeping her off her feet. Her father had told her about the strapping young man who would make all of her dreams come true one day. The young man who she would share everything with, including her sleep. 

And both of her parents dismissed her queries about what would happen if her soulmate wasn’t a man. They had waved away her questions with easy quotes from the Bible and their pastor, and they had drilled into her head that all of her “teenage feelings” were just a phase. 

She was convinced she would outgrow them, but then. Well, then she met you. 

And you made her question everything. 

It wasn’t just that you were smart and funny and gorgeous. It was how kind your heart was. How you would give up the world to make her smile on a bad day. It was how your tough exterior had cracked just for her. 

It made butterflies erupt in her chest and tingles followed everywhere you touched. You made her feel warm and seen and… she couldn’t help but give in to those feelings. 

At first, it was in small ways, sharing your bed in France (something that brought you both immense comfort), stealing small kisses and light touches in the underbelly of stadiums. Little things that had grown into more, until the lines were so blurred she didn’t know where you stopped and she began. 

All that you had been missing was a label, so she conveniently picked one that didn’t make her afraid. One her parents wouldn’t question. 

You were her friend and the secret benefits attached never needed to be mentioned.

She pushed her feelings for you away under the ruse of platonicity. 

It was easy. It was doable. 

Until the two of you were roomed together in the bubble, trapped in a country that gave the both of you nightmares. 

She finally let herself give in to the feelings in her chest. She let her touches linger, no matter who could see. She let herself joke and enjoy your bright smiles in front of her friends. She let herself let go of the fear that being caught staring and watching still evoked. 

You looked so kissable in the locker room after the final, bragging about your game-winning goal, your dimples poking out. You looked so kissable in your stupid goggles, covered in champagne. And she…

Lindsey just couldn’t help herself. 

She hadn’t thought twice about pulling you into a spare equipment closet. She hadn’t thought twice about the way your lips pressed together or the heat that built between you in seconds. She hadn’t thought about her roving hands and how good you felt until…

If Kelley hadn’t knocked on the door, there was no telling how far the two of you would have gone. 

As you broke apart, staring at her like she hung the moon and the stars and… reality finally hit her. She couldn’t have you and keep her family. The lines were too blurred and before she could think, words were falling from her lips, matching your falling expression. she was kicking you out and you looked...hurt was too simple of a word to describe it. 

That was where her options had ended. 

You disappeared into the night, only reappearing to get on the plane, attend a parade, and then you were gone again. 

It only reinforced the lessons her parents had taught her. She would find a reliable man to support her. A man who would care for her and follow her. A man who would help her give her parents grandchildren. 

And she had. 

She sighed heavily, glancing to her left where he lay, sound asleep. 

He was good. He listened but never pushed. He held her when she cried, even when he didn’t know why. He who helped her put her broken pieces back together. 

But he wasn’t you. 

And she knew that by choosing him and protecting herself she was hurting you. An unintentional casualty she had thought of it as. Except nothing about that dream had been unintentional. 

“Fuck,” 

She dragged her hand through her hair, her elbow barely brushing him. He still jolted awake. 

“Wha, babe?” Ty asked, his voice husky as she lurched to a sitting position. “You alright?” 

She hated that her brain instantly compared you to him. How your voice sounded so much sexier than his. How you were a deeper sleeper, and didn’t jump when you woke up. How you would have wrapped her in your arms before asking questions? 

She shook her head, leaning into his side, telling him that she wanted to be held. “Yeah, bad dream,” 

It took him a second to catch on and wrap a loose arm around her. “I’m here,” He placed a very sweet kiss on her hairline. 

She let out a shuddering breath. It was too close to something you would do. “I know,” 

He was there for now, but she couldn’t stop your words from echoing in her head. 

They had talked about what they would do when they found their soulmates, how they would prefer to be with each other rather than with some random person. 

But you weren’t a random person. 

How was she supposed to tell this man? This kind man, who had picked up the pieces her fear had created. that she had found her soulmate and she wanted to go back on every promise she had ever made? 

Especially when you weren’t going to keep your promise to her. 

*****

As it turned out, 48 hours with little more than a power nap did wonders on your psyche.

You were nearing the punch-drunk stage of exhaustion before you even stepped onto the pitch. And dealing with Emily and Kelley trying to stop you for 98 minutes had sapped every last bit of fake energy you had. 

Winning the game helped, but by the time Christen and Tobin were loading you in the car for dinner, you were dead on your feet. And the anxiety about what Lindsey had or had not said to Emily had you on edge as you entered the restaurant. 

The too-fancy restaurant, with white table cloths, red rose centerpieces, and gold-rimmed plates. 

You bit your lip as you were seated, trying to force the dream from your mind. 

But as it turned out, Lindsey hadn’t told Emily anything, and that made things so much more difficult. 

It made Emily and Kelley more curious, and more focused on your every move. You could feel their eyes tracing your every movement, glued to the way Tobin pulled out your chair and Christen sent you a meaningful look when she passed you the menu. 

You knew Emily wanted an explanation for why you had been ignoring her, but you weren’t sure how to put it into words. So you avoided it. 

You avoided making eye contact or engaging in conversation and focused too hard on the menu. 

“Sanchez is super stoked for the next few camps,” Kelley said, nodding her head toward you. “She thinks she can pull out some crazy services with our ducky,” 

You hummed, peeking up at her from behind your menu, using it as a shield. 

Considering how cracked and broken your chest felt, you doubted you would be making many connections at camp. You doubted you would be able to function in the same proximity as Lindsey, much less focus on soccer. 

You didn’t think you would be able to get out of your head enough to do it. 

“She seems scrappy,” You mumbled, your eyes barely flickering towards Emily, trying to avoid the place setting. 

It had the sludge sloshing in your stomach. You couldn’t help how you idly scratched at the point right above your heart. 

It’s not my fault you’ve incorporated me into some gay fantasy. It’s your MO.

You cleared your throat, chasing her voice from your head. “If she can keep up, it’ll be fun to see how we link,” 

“She’s deadly when she connects with Trin,” Kelley said, sending a look between you and Emily. “I’m sure you two will find your groove too,” 

You tried to ignore their secret conversation. The evidence that it wasn’t the first time you were the subject. 

“It’s not surprising her and Trin are soulmates really,” Emily added, sipping her glass of red wine. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes zeroed in on it. The way the liquid in the glass pressed to red lips had your heart pounding in your chest. 

It was stupid for you to get so worked up over a glass of wine. For the mere mention of soulmates to send you over the edge, but it did. 

“Ali and JJ had their hands full trying to keep track of them,” Trying to hide the concerned look she sent your way. 

You hadn’t even realized your hand was clutching your chest, clawing at your cracked heart. 

Tobin's arm landed heavily on your shoulder, an innocuous move that was meant to ground you. To keep you in the present. “I could tell Trinity was getting frustrated, especially with Girma,” 

“She's young,” Kelley nodded. “Once she matures a bit she’s going to be as much of a force as Alex and you three,” 

“Are you ok?” Emily asked before anyone could respond, reaching across the table to lay her hand over yours. “You look like you’re gonna be sick,” 

You pulled away like you had been burned. The action was too familiar. It was too close. 

“I’m good, I’ve just gotta go to the bathroom,” You said too quickly, pushing yourself away from the table. “I’ll be back,” 

You didn’t give anyone a chance to reply before you bolted from the table, hanging a right (nearly missing a very startled waiter) and crashing into the bathroom door like it was a Canadian defender. 

You stumbled into the sink, clutching the sink like it was a lifeline, praying that the cool granite countertop could calm the wave crashing through your chest. The unrelenting tsunami unleashed by Lindsey’s words. 

It was pathetic. You were pathetic. 

Some gold-ringed plates and red wine had sent you over the fucking edge. The mention of soulmates shouldn’t send your chest tight, but it did. 

You should be able to have a normal conversation with your friends. You shouldn’t fear that the simple mention of something would make you hurt so badly. 

It was a you problem. They shouldn’t suffer for it. 

You sucked in a short, wheezy breath, your fingers wrapping in your shirt to pull your collar down. 

Pathetic. The voice in your head hissed. No wonder she doesn’t want you. 

Your other hand pressed harder into the counter, dipping your head towards the metal faucet. You almost wished you had turned it on. 

“You have to breathe,” Emily’s voice suddenly said, very close to your ear. Her arms wrapped carefully around your stomach, one hand catching your own. “Come on, match my breathing ducky,” 

You leaned back into her body, feeling her heartbeat against your back with each exaggerated breath she took for your benefit. 

It burned to try and match her, matching the ever-present ache that had been there since Lindsey rejected you. The sludge in your stomach expanded and contracted with each breath you tried to take. 

You hadn’t felt this way since the night of the World Cup. Since Kelley knocked on the door and Lindsey had told you to get out. Since she told you you were nothing.

“I know it hurts, but you need to breathe,” Emily said, pulling you back towards her so she was hugging you from behind. 

You nodded, your lips pressing together tightly, your eyes slipping closed as you tried to focus on her. On the way, her arms felt around you. The way each breath hit your ear and moved against you. 

“Come on, breathe in” She hummed, sucking in a deep breath and waiting for you to follow her. You counted to 8 in your head, holding it for 4 before releasing it for 6. And repeating it. 

With each iteration, your relaxed father back into Emily, until most of your weight was leaning against her. 

She held you for a long moment, letting you gather yourself, and keeping a hand on your back as you pulled away. 

“Good?” She asked gently. 

“Yeah, good,” You nodded, your voice horse as you leaned towards the faucet, running cool water over your face before turning to face her. “Thanks,” 

“Anytime,” She said, watching you carefully, like you were a wounded animal she was afraid to back you into a corner, holding out a paper towel so you could dry your face. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

You shrugged. It had been happening to you a lot lately, the feeling that your chest was going to collapse on itself. Between Lindsey and the never-ending stream of calls from your brother, you knew they would only get that much worse. 

“You haven’t had a panic attack since France,” She continued, her voice ticking up and you knew that she wanted more of an explanation. 

You shook your head. You didn’t want to think about France anymore, or how Emily had found you in the same position after Lindsey kicked you out. How she had held you together for the night while the rest of the team celebrated. 

The only difference was that you couldn’t escape this time. There wasn’t a time limit for you to paint a smile on your face and pretend to be fine. 

“I’m fine,” You croaked, avoiding her eyes. 

“You’re not,” Emily countered, taking a step towards you, holding your hand up to stop her. You couldn't do this if she was close to you. “And I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s happening,” 

You shivered at the words. The same ones she had used before she checked you out of the hospital in Florida. 

“I just have a lot on my mind,” You muttered, pressing the paper towel into your eyes. 

“You’ve had a lot on your mind since camp,” She scoffed, hopping up on the counter next to you. “What’s going on?”

You let out a long sigh, knowing that she wasn’t going to let this go. She had refused to let anything go since she signed you out of the hospital. Since the nurse told her they had put you on a suicide hold. 

you blew out a long breath, weighing the words in your mouth. 

“I met my soulmate, and it’s complicated,” You said carefully. “I had the dream at camp and things have been difficult,” 

“And Lindsey is hurt, even though she has a boyfriend?” She asked, connecting the dots differently than you thought she would. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding all our calls and texts, even tonight,” 

She gestured towards your still buzzing phone. 

“Something like that,” You muttered, finally looking up at her.

She sent you a small, sad smile. You just appreciated there was no pity in her look. She was one of the few who was aware of the true nature of your relationship. One of the few who treated you like you weren’t fragile after you came back. One of the few who held you accountable. 

“We’ll figure it out,” She said solemnly. “At camp Kelley and I will run interference. You can forget about the drama and enjoy the game,” 

You shook your head. “I’m just so tired,” You admitted, finally letting your pain and exhaustion show on your face. Showing her that your soul was slowly seeping from your body. 

Emily pulled you close to her, and you fell into the comfort, burying your face in her chest, much like the night she had found you in France.

She squeezed you tightly as though she was holding all of your pieces together. Like she knew you were forgoing sleep to avoid your soulmate. Avoiding Lindsey. “Come on. Let’s go back, we’ll eat, and then you can get some sleep,” 

“Ok,” You agreed, letting her guide you out of the bathroom and to your seat, completely ignoring Kelley’s questioning eyes and Christen’s worried expression. 

“Everything alright?” Tobin finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the table, looking right at you. 

“Yeah, all good,” You mumbled. “I think I’m just going to get a cheeseburger,” 

You ignored Emily’s low scoff at the change of subject and Kelley’s raised eyebrow. 

The sludge in your stomach rocked but didn’t flair up like you expected it to. 

“Fishy and King said they were good here,” You added. 

“They said their onion rings were fire too,” Tobin jumped in, and you knew that it was just because she would get details of whatever had happened later, but for now she allowed you to change the subject. 

Christen hummed across the table, and you breathed a sigh of relief as the conversation restarted. 

You tried to relax and just enjoy your friends.

There would be time to worry later. 

******

Tobin had learned a long time ago that you didn’t always express yourself in words. She had learned to instead watch you because your body language always gave you away. She learned that you would tell her what was bothering you eventually, and that patience was the most useful tool she had. 

So that’s what she did, despite how much she wanted to know what happened in the bathroom. 

She watched as Kelley and Emily pulled unwilling smiles from your lips. As they got your shoulders to relax and genuine laughs to escape your 

It was the happiest she had seen you in months. The most… alive, despite how you flinched each time your phone buzzed in your pocket. 

You still hadn’t told her and Christen exactly who was calling you. 

She smiled as you leaned heavily into Christen as you all made your way down the sidewalk, towards the Washington Spirit hotel, making small talk with Emily. 

The small curve of your lips was a win in her opinion. She could see the effects of the soulmate bond. The slow decay of your soul was a painful inevitability, and your hesitancy to share your pain with them was hard for her. You had been better about coming to them, but you were still hesitant, and she knew the pressure was mounting 

She worried about what would happen when her and Christen weren’t there for support. 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to wait for whatever BS story she told Em?” Kelley nudged Tobin’s ribs, nodding her head towards you. “Whatever happened in the bathroom looked pretty intense, and she was looking rough even before that,” 

“It probably was,” Tobin said half under her breath, her eyes never leaving you. “She’s just… she’s going through a lot right now. I’m pretty sure Chris and I don’t even know the whole story,”

Kelley raised an eyebrow, a clear indication that she wanted more information, earning a long sigh from Tobin. 

The midfielder-turned-forward’s eyes cut to Emily meaningfully. “All we know is that it’s a… personal thing,”

Soulmates shared everything, they held no secrets between them. It was an inherent downside to sharing your dreams with someone. So if she told Kelley, then Emily would know too, and she wasn’t about to betray your trust. 

Kelley followed her eyes, understanding blooming in her features. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t share more than I have to. I just want to help,” She said more softly, honesty in her tone. “What’s the personal thing?”

“It’s a problem with her soulmate,” Tobin said softly, the words barely above a whisper like it would soften the blow, but Kelley still recoiled. 

It all made sense. The dark circles under your eyes, the ache that coated every one of your movements, the exhaustion a simple smile brought. 

Kelley knew the symptoms well. 

“That sucks,” She sighed. 

You were such a good kid, and you never seemed to catch a break. 

“Majorly,” Tobin agreed, remembering how you had cried in her arms. “I’m worried about how she’ll be at camp,” 

She didn’t mention that you dealing with Lindsey on your own was something that made her very nervous. She didn’t mention that she was concerned about your propensity for self-destruction or running away. 

It had taken both her and Emily to track you down to Florida. She didn’t want to find you living in a tent on the beach. She didn’t want to have to convince you that being with your friends was worth dealing with your feelings. She didn’t want to get a call that you weren’t allowed to check out of a hospital by yourself. 

“Em and I will keep an eye on her,” Kelley said, catching Tobin's arm... “I’m sure Lindsey will help too,” 

Tobin grimaced, her eyes turning dark. “Let’s keep Lindsey out of it,” 

Kelley’s head tilted to the side, squinting. Lindsey was your best friend. The two of you had been inseparable until last camp. But she thought better of it than to comment. She knew the past the two of you shared after all. 

“Is that who’s blowing up her phone?” Kelley asked, her brain working to catch up. “Or is it the random soulmate?” 

Tobin shook her head, running a hand frustratedly through her hair. “She won’t tell us who has been calling her nonstop. It was so bad she stashed her phone in a sock drawer,” 

Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. Tobin wasn’t kidding when she said you were dealing with a lot. It seemed like the perfect mess of things. A web of pain with you at the epicenter. She just worried they wouldn’t be able to untangle you until it was too late. 

“We’ll keep an eye on her. I promise,” Kelley said solemnly, already knowing that Emily planned to watch out for you anyway. She had been worried for weeks, and now that the younger defender had definitive proof there was something wrong, there would be no stopping her. Kelley had already agreed to be along for the ride. “Now let’s try to keep her in a good mood. She deserves that,” 

You were always there for Emily, and she was determined to be there for you. You were like a little sister, she just hoped you would let her help. 

*****

Kelley knew within the first hour of camp that Tobin had been right to be worried. 

You were like a shell of yourself. She had seen it briefly at dinner, but being around you for an extended period exemplified how not ok you were. 

Your easy smile was gone, as was the light that always seemed to follow you. 

The only place you weren’t completely off was the field. 

You were cutthroat, slicing up the young defense with no mercy. You barely took the time to direct like you normally would, and it seemed you had no patience for the new midfield to catch up. You didn’t explain or teach. And you had simply shrugged when Kelley asked why. 

It was more selfish than you normally played and it was painfully obvious you were more focused on winning than having fun or helping the rest of the team. 

It was just so not like you, and other people on the team were starting to notice. 

But you seemed unbothered by the attention. The stares. You had barely looked at any of them. 

The only one you seemed to notice was Lindsey, something that didn’t surprise her considering what Emily told her about the bathroom incident. 

There was just something off about the story though. Something off about Lindsey’s reaction. It wasn’t… the reaction she would have expected if Lindsey was upset about you finding your soulmate. 

“You look like a creeper,” Emily hummed, kissing her cheek, wrapping her arms around her soulmate, and resting her head on her shoulder, following her gaze. “You’ve been staring for a long time,” 

“Just trying to read the dynamic,” Kelley mumbled, squinting as you nodded down another one of Sanchez’s crosses, and Huerta lined up to send one in from the other side.

You had been reluctant to agree to their request after practice, only saying yes to avoid Lindsey (from what Kelley could tell). 

Lindsey glared at the pair as they asked you, cutting off her attempt to get close to you while you were getting water. That glare hadn’t stopped, even as you headed back towards the pitch. 

Lindsey was blatant with the daggers she was sending toward Sofia and Sanchez. But it didn’t strike Kelley as friendly jealousy. 

She was trying too hard to close the distance. She was watching you too closely. 

It was too much. 

“Looks like jealousy to me,” Emily chuckled, tightening her arms around Kelley’s waist, and kissing just behind her ear. “She’s totally jealous,”

“But what kind of jealous?” Kelley asked slowly, leaning into Emily’s lips. “Watch,” 

Emily followed her gaze. Lindsey stood on the sideline, arms crossed, watching where Huerta was setting up a cross. The midfielder glared at the young defender, muttering something neither Kelley nor Emily could hear just before she took the cross. 

It was slightly off-target, but that wasn’t a problem for you. You bodied it down and finished it easily with a heel flick. 

Even without defenders around it was impressive. 

It shouldn’t be that easy. 

“You curl it where she’s going, not where she is,” Lindsey hissed towards Huerta, as you kicked the ball out of the net, passing it to Sanchez. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed when you didn’t stick up for the youngins like you normally would. But then again, that would require interacting with Lindsey. 

It was strange to see Lindsey so moody, so… unhelpful. 

“It can’t be Sofia right?” Emily asked. 

Kelley snorted at the question. Sofia was sweet, but she tiptoed around you, and not in the way that would indicate anything remotely romantic. Plus you had been on a team with her before you went to Angel City. Things wouldn’t have gotten as out of hand as they had. 

“Tobin would have murdered Huerta,” Kelley muttered thoughtfully. “And Y/n has barely looked at either of them,” 

The only person you had made eye contact with was Lindsey. 

“It can’t be one of our teammates Kelley,” it was Emily’s turn to scoff. “She’s tearing herself apart and none of them would do that to her,” 

The team held soulmates above all else, and as far as she knew, none of them would hurt you that way. None of them would stand by idly while the dark circles grew under your eyes and the light left your smile. None of them would let you self-destruct trying to make them happy. 

Kelley’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I think the more pressing issue is her sleep schedule,” 

“Christen already warned me,” Emily agreed. “She goes days without it if you don’t watch her,” 

“I’ll talk to Alex and get it swapped,” Kelley said. “She’ll understand and agree,” 

Their eyes watched you as you walked away from the youngins and finally settled onto the bench. Your exhaustion was obvious in the slump in your posture, the way you barely lifted your arm to squirt water into your mouth, even though you were trying to hide it. 

You glanced down at your phone, glaring at the small device. You let out a long sigh, before pushing yourself to your feet and walking away from the group to answer the call. 

“We need to figure out what’s going on outside of the soulmate thing too,” Kelley mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing. “Cause whatever it is can’t be good either,” 

Emily hummed in agreement. “Definitely,” 

*****

It wasn’t that Kelley liked to snoop. It was just that it was too easy to follow after you when you hadn’t reappeared on the field after you took the phone call. 

It had been too enticing to deny.

They needed to know what they were dealing with, and hearing part of that conversation would tell them what you wouldn’t. Plus Kelley was like an older sister, protective and overbearing in her own way. 

She could get away with a little spying, and if you caught her, you would be more likely to open up rather than flip out. 

Kelley also wasn’t stuck between you and Lindsey. She had always been closer to you. 

So she crept up to the door that separated the bathroom from the locker room. She pressed the door open just enough to be able to see your form, pacing back and forth, the phone pressed to your ear. 

“Stop calling me Tyler. Nothing has changed, even now,”  You growled, your lips forming a tight line. “I don’t care that she’s dying,” 

She frowned at the mention of your brother. 

You ran a hand through your hair, tugging harshly at the strands as you listened to whatever he was saying, your head already shaking. 

“There is nothing to consider, stop calling me. I only need to know when it’s done,” You spat into the phone, ripping it away from your ear and jabbing at the screen before you tossed it carelessly toward your locker. 

You looked like you wanted to scream or cry, or hit something, and Kelley felt her heart break for you. 

You were always the strong one. You pretended to be fine for everyone else’s sake. It was rare you let your vulnerability show. Rare enough that Kelley had never seen it herself. 

You turned, content on pacing the small room again, only to freeze in your tracks at what Kelley assumed was a person at the door that connected the locker room to the hallway. 

She leaned forward, catching blonde hair and white nail polish over crossed arms. 

Lindsey, she thought. 

The midfielder pushed off of the door, taking the three steps it took to close the space between you. Kelley wasn’t sure how long Lindsey had been watching you. She wasn’t sure how much of the conversation she had heard. 

Your posture changed, and your eyes hardened. “Look, I can’t deal with you too right now, alright?” 

The coldness of your tone shook Kelley to the core. She wasn’t sure if you had ever used anything like it before. 

“Deal with me?” Lindsey scoffed, exasperated stepping closer, so the two of you were nearly touching. “Can’t I just be a concerned friend?” 

“We are not friends,” 

Your voice was like ice. A knife razor sharp, and unyielding. You delivered it with a tilt of your chin, a glint in your eyes. A heavy blow thrown with complete accuracy. A blow to what Kelley didn’t know, but from the way Lindsey’s face fell, she knew the shot had landed. 

It didn’t make sense. Not unless- 

Kelley’s jaw dropped at the implication. Lindsey couldn’t be your-

“So you’ve said,” Lindsey said back, her voice too even, too calm despite the pain laced in it. But she didn’t leave your space. 

“Don’t do that,” You snapped, shoving a finger in her chest and finally putting distance between you. Kelley winced at the action. 

“What?” Lindsey bit back, her chin tilted up in defiance, her arms spread out to the side.“I’m not doing anything,” 

Kelley held her breath. There was more being said than the words between you, and the way your back straightened at Lindsey’s sentence was as bad a sign as she had seen. 

“You’re never doing anything,” You spat back. “Perfect Lindsey is always the victim, right? It’s big bad Y/n who is in the wrong, preying on the innocent right?” 

You spat the words like venom. Like there was something else that went with them. A line that both you and Lindsey knew, but Kelley did not. 

Lindsey’s face fell. “I don’t-“ 

“You never fucking do!” You shouted, a flush traveling up your neck to your cheeks as your fists clenched. Hurt and anger permeating your entire being. “You can stop being a bitch to Sanchez and Huerta. They’re kids who won’t leave me the fuck alone,”

Lindsey let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look I’m sorry about what I said, ok?”

“No. It’s not ok Lindsey,” You answered, your voice soft but cold as ever.  “It will never be ok,” 

“What do you want from me?” Lindsey pleaded. “What do I say to fix it?”

You paused, staring at her like she had grown a third head. 

“Fix it? You haven’t even told your fucking boyfriend yet, have you?” you asked the word bitterly, and her silence was enough of an answer for both you and Kelley. You shook your head. “You’re un-fucking-believable, you know,” 

And it all made sense to Kelley. The tension between the two of you. Your pain. 

“I don’t-“ Lindsey stuttered, but you cut her off easily. 

“You do,” You said, a weight of finality in your tone. “Just leave. me. alone. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t corner me. Just stay away from me,” 

The words were punctuated by the sound of you grabbing your bag, and Kelley stumbled back into one of the stalls, hoping you wouldn’t catch her. 

But she wasn’t fast enough, caught in the curtain as you pushed your way through the door. 

You rolled your eyes at the defender, more irritated by Lindsey than Kelley’s eavesdropping. 

You already expected the extra ears, especially after your episode at dinner with Kelley, Emily, and Preath. They were nosey, even if it was for the right reasons. 

You chose to ignore her as you picked your own shower stall, partially because you didn’t want to address it, but also because you didn’t know if you could speak without your voice cracking and you didn’t want to lose it here. Not with her in the next room, or your friends around to see. 

You were not an emotional person, and being so raw made you uncomfortable. 

“That seemed like a rough conversation,” Kelley said finally, stepping so she could lean on the frame of the entrance to your stall.

You blew out a long, shaky breath, dropping your extra clothes and towel on the little chair. 

“Not you too,” You grumbled. “what’s with you and Emily cornering me in bathrooms,” 

“What’s with you running to them?” Kelley countered, raising an eyebrow at you.

You closed your eyes, your head leaning back on the shower wall with a thump. 

The sludge in your stomach sloshed unyieldingly. The pain in your chest echoing out with each beat of your heart. You unconsciously brought your hand up to clutch over the area, your nails digging into the sensitive skin through your shirt. 

“I don’t want to talk about this alright?” 

Kelley softened at the quiet, vulnerable request, reaching up to catch your hand, flattening it against her palm. “You’re shaking,” 

You bit your lip, nodding down to your chest. “It hurts,” 

Her eyes followed your gesture, and her heart sank a little bit more. 

She knew the symptoms of soulmate sickness. She had experienced its effects for herself. That wasn’t something she wanted you to have to go through. 

“Let me see,” She said softly, waiting for you to nod before she reached for you. 

She was gentle as she pulled your practice jersey over your head, her breath catching when she saw the black mark on your chest, right over your heart. 

It was dark at the very center, several rings of what looked like bruises surrounded it and a web of black veins sprouted from the center. 

It was a physical symptom of your emotional pain. A visual representation of rejection from a soulmate. The necrotic tissue spreading from your crushed heart. 

She watched as the veins pulsed, pushing the dark color further from the epicenter, eating away at your chest. 

“Oh my god,” She breathed out, her eyes snapping to yours. “Do Tobin and Christen know?” 

You nodded once. It was hard to hide when you were living on their couch. Plus they had been there when the first black mark appeared. “It wasn’t this bad until last week. Things kinda took a turn,” 

“I can see that,” She said, retracting her hand when you winced after she lightly touched the angriest of the black veins. “Was this before or after your stopped sleeping,”

“I stopped sleeping after she rejected me the first time,” You scoffed, gritting your teeth when the pain pulsed yet again. 

“Well that’s not gonna continue,” Kelley said sternly.  “I swapped with Alex,” 

“Of course, you did,” You groaned. “I don’t need a parent,” 

“No, you don’t,” She said slowly. “But you don’t have to struggle through all of this alone,” 

You gulped, as her eyes searched you before she pulled you into a tight hug. You buried your face in her neck, letting her strong arm and scent soothe you. 

“I’m not pushing Lindsey away because I want to be alone,”

“No, you’re pushing her away because it hurts less,” Kelley agreed, and there was no judgment in her voice. “Because every time you let her close, she cuts you,”

You appreciated that. 

“It didn’t hurt like this until she called it a gay fantasy and accused me of sleeping with all of my friends,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

It was only after the dream that the mark appeared. You guessed it was because it was an actual rejection. 

Kelley tensed underneath you, cursing under her breath. That was more than just a complication, and she wished Tobin had been more informative. Unless Tobin didn’t know. 

It made sense why you didn’t want to sleep. Why was your brother bothering you? None of that made sense, but they could only tackle one problem at a time. 

“She’s an idiot,” Kelley said finally, pulling back so she could look you in the eye. “but tearing yourself apart isn’t the answer. You need sleep. Let me help,”

You met her eyes, and you saw the worry. The anger. The understanding that rivaled Tobins. She made you feel safe. 

“Ok,”

******

Kelley was on a warpath so deadly that even Emily didn’t think she could stop her. Frankly, Emily wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stop her. 

Not after Kelley told her. Not after she saw the black mark herself. It made her chest ache just looking at it. 

It was worse that she knew one of her best friends was the cause of it. That Lindsey had not only accused you of sleeping with your friends but dismissed your bond with such vulgar language. 

They had been lucky to make it through dinner without any outbursts, especially with the way Lindsey stared at your every movement, stilted as they were, and the way she was glowering at Emily and Kelley like she knew they knew. 

But Emily wondered if Lindsey knew. If she had given any thought to the consequences of her actions. 

You had only stayed long enough to eat before excusing yourself back to your own room. Lindsey followed, sending a meaningful glare toward the defender pair as she passed. 

“She’s warning us,” Kelley muttered, standing as soon as the door closed. “I don’t like it,” 

Emily sighed, pushing herself to her feet and trailing after her soulmate. “I don’t like any of this,” 

She hoped Lindsey went back to her room. She hoped that Lindsey wouldn’t push, not when you were already so far on edge. 

Her hopes were dashed as the elevator doors binged open and there she was sitting outside your hotel room door. 

“Don’t you know the meaning of stay away?” Kelley growled as they approached the midfielder. Emily placed a gentle hand on Kelley’s arm, hoping to prevent the second half of the sentence. The match that would light the inevitable blow up. 

“She’s probably asleep,” Emily said, her grip on Kelley tightening. Afraid of what the defender would say. “She said she wanted to nap after she finished eating,” 

It had been a fight to get you to agree that you desperately needed a nap. A fight to get you to recognize that the only way to deal with the stress of camp was to give your body the support it needed. 

“She probably exhausted herself flirting with the kids,” Lindsey grumbled, patting the carpeted floor. 

“She exhausted herself protecting the little bit she has left.” Kelley snapped back.  “We could only convince her to sleep because we promised we’d prevent you from following her there. Prevent you from cornering her again,” 

It had been true. They swore they would make sure Lindsey stayed awake so you could avoid another unwanted confrontation, one Lindsey seemed intent on having. 

You were too tired to fight, and both defenders feared that any more pushing would make the mark on your chest grow. 

“This isn’t all my fault,” Lindsey bit back, shoving herself to her feet and advancing toward Kelley. 

At least it got her away from your door. 

Kelley’s face hardened, and she pressed against Emily’s restraining arm, getting as close to the midfielder as she could. “No. You just belittled the bond you share and accused her of fucking all of her teammates,” 

Lindsey glared, stepping so she was toe to toe with Kelley at the clear challenge. “Are you trying to tell me that Y/n didn’t fuck her way back to the plane in France, or on the beach in Florida?” 

“How fucking blind are you Lindsey,” Kelley scoffed, her chest pushing against Emily’s restraining arm, trying to get closer. 

“Easy,” Emily said, her arm tightening around Kelley, her eyes never leaving the midfielder. “Y/n has been trying to get over you for forever,” 

Lindsey's lip curled at the gentle admission. “And she followed you like a puppy when you brought her back to Portland,” 

A dark look crossed Emily’s face. Both her and Tobin were particularly protective of your time in Florida for a reason. You were a mess when you got back. A self-destructive mess, and it had taken so long to get you out of those habits. To prevent more scars. 

“They were only so close because Em was the one who found her after I found you in the closet,” Kelley answered before she could, her voice turning cruel. “What was it you said to her as you shoved her half-dressed into the hallway? That what you two were doing meant nothing? That she meant nothing?”

Kelley would never forget finding you and Emily that night. The way her own soulmate explained exactly what Lindsey said to you. The guilt she felt at how knocking on a door had set your spiral into motion again. 

But that was nothing compared to this. No. Lindsey had dismissed the bond you shared as a gay fantasy and you were tearing yourself apart over it. 

“She was afraid you would reject her again, or that she would have to pretend the two of you hadn’t blurred the friendship line,” Emily added more softly, finally letting go of Kelley. 

Leaving you alone didn’t feel like a good move right now. 

“Go, check on her,” Kelley said, pushing the blonde defender towards the door with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be good I promise,” 

Kelley waited for the door to close before turning her cold eyes back on the midfielder. 

“She was right to be afraid,” She said, her voice soft but deadly, like a razor running on delicate skin.  “You fucked this up. You were the one who made the choice. Who has made all of the choices? You don’t get to comment on how Y/n protects herself. You need to wake up before you push her too far,” 

With that, she stepped around the stunned midfielder and entered the hotel room too. 

*****

“You told me to call you when it was done,” Your brother's muffled voice met her as she stepped through the door. “It’s done. The service is tomorrow and you’re expected to be there,” 

She frowned at the scene, you perched on the end of the bed next to Emily, pinching the bridge of your nose, the phone held up to your ear. 

“I’ll be there,” You said softly, making eye contact with Kelley, exhaustion clear in your features. 

There was no I love you exchanged between you and your brother as the line went dead. 

Kelley approached you carefully, taking up your other side so you were seated between the defenders. “What’s going on?” 

You ran a hand through your hair, puffing out your cheeks and blowing out a long breath. You took a long moment to order your thoughts, pushing the ones of Lindsey from your mind. 

You could only deal with one problem at a time. 

“My mom died, I have to go,” You said slowly, dragging your hand down your face. “I’ll be back before the next game, but I’ve gotta go,” 

You pushed yourself to your feet and began shoving clothing into your bag. 

“Slow down,” Kelley said, standing and catching your arm as you tried to shove a sweatshirt into your bag. 

You stopped, throwing your head back toward the ceiling with a low groan. Kelley’s hand found your back, silently supporting you. 

“I can’t,” The words slid from your lips, landing like Little rocks on a pond. “I didn’t want to deal with any of this, but I have to,” 

“Your brother is the one who’s been calling you,” Kelley supplied, filling in the gap. 

You nodded. “My mother was in hospice. Her dying request was a conversation with me,” 

“She had no right to ask for that,” Emily said, moving to stand on your other side. “Not after the way you grew up,”

You bit your lip. 

“Y/n,” Kelley sighed, rubbing your back. 

You shook your head. You didn’t have a choice in this. In any of it. 

“Well she did, and now she’s dead,” You said finally, pulling yourself out of their comforting arms and towards your bag.  “It’s another thing I’ve fucked up,”

The only good thing about this situation was that you would be back in time for the game against South Korea in Kansas City. That the game was in the town you had to go to anyway. 

“Stop. Look at me,” Emily caught your arm again, using a thumb under your chin to force you to look her in the eyes. She raised an eyebrow at you. “you know none of this is your fault right?” 

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and for the first time, she saw the little spark in your eyes go dead. It was the first time she saw the full toll of the soulmate bond on you. The full force of the pressure from your family and the team. 

“Look. I don’t want to. I haven’t wanted to deal with any of this, but I have to,” Your voice shook as you said the words. You gulped, shoving your feelings into a little box. “So just let me, and try to get along with Linds. She can’t help how she feels, and she doesn’t need the entire team against her,” 

You didn’t want them to fight a fight that wasn’t their own. 

It was between Lindsey and you, and they didn’t need to destroy the team dynamic over something that was your problem. 

You should be able to be her friend. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t hold the same feelings you did.

The things she said to you were your problem, not your friend’s problem. 

“I have to go,” You said, grabbing your bag. 

Kelley stared at you for a long moment, before pulling you into a hug. “We’re here for you,” 

You let out a breath, accepting the comfort. “I know,” 

You pulled away, nodding at Emily as you walked out the door. 

You should have been expecting Lindsey to be waiting for you. You should have been prepared, but you weren’t. 

You made eye contact with her as you stepped into the hallway, and it made your chest ache. Her burning blue made the ice in your veins prickle, and your heart lurched in your chest. 

You steeled yourself, opting to roll your eyes and step past her. It hurt less than commenting or trying to hold conversation. 

But she didn’t let you pass. Her fingers wrapped around your arm. 

“Y/n wait. Can we talk?” She asked, her fingers tightening slightly at the question. 

You twisted your arm, pulling away, and stepping towards the elevator. You clicked the call button. 

“Maybe you should try again later,” Emily said, sliding between you and Lindsey. 

You could feel her sending you worried looks over her shoulder., trying to act as a mediator between her two best friends. You caught her hand, intent on telling her to stay out of it, that this was your problem, but Lindsey didn’t give you the chance. 

“What’s wrong with now?” Lindsey hissed, stepping closer so she was pressed into Emily, and Emily was pressed into you. 

You took an involuntary step back, breathing a sigh of relief when the elevator binged open. 

You didn’t answer, stepping into the elevator, and making eye contact again as it slid closed. 

“Y/n please!” She pleaded as the door slid closed. 

But you just blinked at her. You didn’t have anything to say back. 

You couldn’t uncap your emotions now. If you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop. 

And you needed to be in control if you were going to face your family. 

*****

Lindsey clutched her chest as the elevator door slid closed as if she was trying to grab the sudden pain that shot through her. 

It was a feeling she had never experienced before. A stabbing sensation that lit her nerve endings on fire. 

You had been so cold. So… indifferent, not towards her at least. 

And she couldn’t stand it. In the locker room, you had been all vitriol and rage. She could understand your anger. She knew how to respond to anger. 

She could throw your pain back at you if you were simply angry. She could be angry in return. She could pretend that she didn’t know she was hurting you. She could pretend that she didn’t loathe herself for it. 

But the way you looked at her. She couldn’t pretend that you weren’t in agony. That you weren’t suffering. 

She didn’t know what to do with it. She didn’t know how to stop. Not without admitting the truth, and that fucking terrified her. 

But losing you terrified her more. It was her greatest fear. 

She had almost convinced herself that she hadn’t lost you. That it was just a disagreement you would get over. But as the elevator doors dinged shut, it was clear that this was different. 

Her phone pinged, and it made her want to vomit. She knew it was him. She hated how her heart no longer leaped for him, but she wasn’t ready to put him out of his misery either. 

She glared down at the device, sliding down the wall next to the elevator, unable to hold herself up. 

“Great fucking timing,” She muttered, rubbing a frustrated hand through her hair. 

She didn’t know how to stop. She didn’t know how to fix it. She just… didn’t know. 

She closed her eyes, tilting her head up to the sky. She wasn’t sure if she believed in a god anymore (just that thought would make her parents’ head roll), but if there was, she wished he would tell her what the fuck to do. She wished he would tell her how the fuck she was supposed to fix this. 

She felt Emily’s eyes on her for a long moment, before the defender slid down the wall to sit beside her. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Lindsey said, taking a deep, watery breath. “Any of this,” 

“She didn’t leave camp because of you,” Emily’s shoulders lifted and fell. “Her mom died. She’ll be back with us when we get to Kansas,” 

Lindsey sucked in another deep breath.

So that was what your brother was harassing you about. That was the thing he wanted you to do. 

She knew how strained your relationship with your family was. Your mother kicked you out when you were 16 because she found you kissing your high school girlfriend. 

When she called her your… gay fantasy.

She had used the same term to insult you. 

Jesus, how was she so fucking stupid? 

“I’m sorry,”

Lindsey’s voice was heavy, weighed down by emotions she didn’t know how to put into words. 

Emily’s shoulders lifted and fell again. “It’s not me you’ve gotta convince,” 

Lindsey hated how indifferent she sounded too. How careful not to get in the middle. 

And as if on cue, her phone pinged again. 

She glared at the device, straining to prevent herself from throwing it across the room as if it was the root cause of all of her issues. 

It buzzed again in her hand. 

Emily rolled her eyes at the device. “I think the first step to showing her you’re sorry is to have a very important conversation with him,” 

Lindsey frowned. How did Emily know she hadn’t told him yet? “How?” 

“A locker room isn’t a good place for a private chat,” Emily shrugged for the 3rd time, and Lindsey wanted to scream. How was the blonde defender so… blasé? 

It made the ache in her chest throb like the pain was in time with her heart. She rubbed at the spot on her chest, and the weight of Emily’s pitying gaze was too much to handle.

She couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks, or the sobs that shook her to her core. 

She didn’t deserve to cry. Not when she was the creation of the entire mess. Not when she was the one to make the choice. 

Emily sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. 

Lindsey gripped her shirt with her free hand like her life depended on it. 

Emily rubbed her back, resting her chin on blonde hair. It killed her to see you both so… distraught. She loved you both so much. No matter how unhappy she was with her friend, the blonde defender wasn’t heartless. She couldn’t sit back while one of her best friends sobbed. 

She hugged Lindsey tightly, rocking side to side. “I’ve got you. You’re ok,” 

Lindsey shuttered against her chest, her tears leaking into Emily’s shirt. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lindsey cried, gripping Emily’s shirt for dear life. 

Emily shushed her softly. “I know,” 

She did know. She had seen the way Lindsey rubbed her chest and knew it was from the bond. The midfielder was getting a small taste of the agony you were in. A small feel of a soul being degraded. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Lindsey hiccupped, pulling away. 

Emily sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. She didn’t know what to do either, well nothing that Lindsey was ready to do yet (break up with your boyfriend came to the front of her mind). 

But past that, you weren’t at a place where you were ready to forgive Lindsey either. The midfielder hit a very sore spot. She had opened old wounds with little care. Wounds that would take time to heal. 

“Well,” Emily said slowly. “Y/n has a lot to deal with right now. I don’t think pressuring her will help,” 

“So I give up?” Lindsey sniffed. 

Emily shook her head, raising an eyebrow, and instantly correcting her. “I think you give her the space she asked you for,” 

Lindsey nodded once but bit her lip. “What if I see her? I can’t stop the dreams,” 

Maybe a part of her was hoping to see you in a space where you couldn’t run away. Where she could finally get out all the things she wanted to say, even if you weren’t ready to hear it yet. 

“I think you still try to give her space,” Emily cracked a smile as if she was reading the midfielder's mind.  “You remember how to be a good human, don’t you?” 

Lindsey got the look in her eye that she did when they were running film, and she had just found the other team’s weakness. 

“I can do that,” She nodded, her determination clear. 

Emily only hummed in response, I hope you can, echoing in her mind. Because if Lindsey couldn’t, well, that wasn’t a bridge Emily wanted to have to cross. It wasn’t a bridge Emily thought you would survive crossing. 

*****

Lindsey’s nose scrunched as she came into awareness, her arms folding around herself in a tight hug as she shifted on the uncomfortable wooden floor. Goosebumps erupted on her arms and legs, a doomed attempt to fight the cold that surrounded her and settled deep into her bones. 

She shifted again as her eyes blinked open, the floor creaking dangerously below her. She squinted at the dim blue ceiling, trailing down the peeling blue walls. 

It was dark and dingy, unlike the previous dreams the two of you had shared. She idly wondered if it was due to the only source of light being a small window above the bed, or if it was a manifestation of something darker. 

She let out a breath, watching as it left her in a white puff of mist, curling gently around her, highlighting how sad your small form curled on the windowsill looked. 

You matched the room it seemed. 

There was a small twin bed shoved against one wall and a broken dresser that stood at the end of your bed. It surprised her that those were the only items within the 4 walls. You didn’t even have a closet. 

The only part of the room that looked new was the heavy wooden door. It had no handle, only a series of 4 shiny metallic locks. Her eyebrows furrowed. The keyholes were pointed inward. 

She wondered if it was something the dream world had created. A way to force the two of you to have an actual conversation. One that she wasn’t prepared for. 

You had asked for space after all. She assumed that translated to the dream world instead. 

“It locks from the outside,” You answered her unasked question, never looking away from the window. 

Her eyes snapped to you. “What?”

“The door,” You said, turning to wave a hand at the object, and resting your chin on your knees. “My mom used to lock it from the outside,” 

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected you to address her. 

The red ring around your eyes was shocking, as was the way it made the Y/e/c in your eyes stand out. The pain in them was raw, real. It made Lindsey’s chest ache. 

“Oh,” She breathed out, the weight of the implication too heavy for her brain to work through. 

She knew your childhood was bad, but seeing the place you had grown up was… something else. It made her feel like she had ice in her beings, prickling at her skin from the inside out. 

You shrugged, letting your legs fall off the sill and sliding onto the small twin bed. It creaked underneath you. “That's why I liked to sleep at the field. At least there I was free,” 

Lindsey swallowed the lump in her throat with a slow nod, trying not to focus on how the mattress dipped under your light weight. 

You leaned forward, your feet resting on the floor, your elbows on your knees and your chin in your hands. And you looked… sad. Pale and completely defeated. Being in this place was more torment than anything else for you, and Lindsey wondered if this was actually the place you were sleeping for the night. 

If your brother was punishing you for ignoring him. If you were surviving your family. 

The silence stretched between the two of you, as you chewed on your bottom lip watching her as she watched you. You reminded her of a wounded animal, backed into a corner. Trapped in a cage you couldn’t escape. 

It made Lindsey’s chest ache. She couldn’t just sit in silence with you. 

“I- I know you don’t believe me, but I’m sorry,” She stuttered out, barely above a whisper. 

You instinctively knew she was telling the truth, and part of you wondered if it was some weird soulmate thing. The other part of you was too… exhausted to care.

You shifted on the bed, carefully rubbing over the spot on your chest, grimacing as you pressed too hard into the tender skin. 

You couldn’t deal with that and your family and Lindsey all at the same time. It was just… too much. 

“Can we just… not?” You asked slowly, and you hated the pain that permeated the sentence. You hated how Lindsey slumped back against the wall at the request. How… hurt she looked. 

You didn’t want to hurt her, no matter how much pain she had inflicted on you. Two wrongs didn’t make a right. 

She was once your best friend. She had held you while you suffered serious abuse in France. She held you together during your first NWSL season, and during the World Cup when the pressure of being back in the place that had hurt you and the need to perform had been too much. She had willingly blurred and crossed lines that you never had before. 

Lindsey had always helped you handle your emotions, and though you didn’t have the right to ask her, you needed her in a way that settled deep in your bones. Like you couldn’t breathe without her. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the rejection you knew you deserved. 

“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but can we just pretend tonight that we don’t hate each other?” You asked, so softly she almost didn’t hear you, staring at the floor right by her feet. 

“What?” Her eyebrows furrowed as you made eye contact again. 

You worried your bottom lip, taking a second to gather the courage to ask her again. “Can we just be the old Y/n and the old Lindsey?” You held out a hand, noticing it was shaking. Your entire body was shaking. “just for tonight? Can we pretend that none of this ever happened?” 

Lindsey had every right to deny you, especially when that was all she had asked of you from the beginning. All she wanted was to keep her best friend, and you couldn’t give her that. You told her you weren’t friends. 

Why in the hell should she give you this now? 

Lindsey gulped, slowly standing and taking your hand. Emily’s words echoed in her head. You remember how to be a good human, don’t you?

“Yeah, we can do that,” 

Your hand squeezed hers once, twice, three times. 

She smiled softly, as you scooted back on the bed, making space for her beside you. She very slowly joined you on the bed, trying not to wince when it nearly collapsed around the two of you. You wiggled your way under her arm, gently settling your head on her chest. 

Warmth bloomed from the spot that you touched. It made the icicles in her veins retreat. It made the pain in her chest shrink. It made her feel… right. 

She let her fingers trace patterns on your back and felt you slowly relax against her. She held you closer when she felt the tears leaking through her shirt and the subtle shake of your back. 

Each little droplet burned her like acid, and the ice followed in their wake. It killed her that she was the reason for them. 

“I don’t hate you,” Lindsey said, breaking the silence between you, staring at a dark patch in the ceiling. “And I had no right to say those things to you. I let my jealousy get the best of me,” 

You hummed in response, rubbing your cheek against her chest. It made the pain in your chest lessen. 

“I’m so so sorry,” She continued, her words disappearing into your hair. 

She didn’t expect a verbal response from you. She didn’t need a verbal response. 

She held you tighter though, smiling when she felt your heart rate slow against her, knowing that at least she was settling you instead of upsetting you tonight. 

You closed your eyes and breathed in her scent, nearly as strong in the dreams as it was in real life. 

“Love you Linds, always,” You mumbled against her, not looking up to see her reaction. 

She stilled beneath you, waiting for your breathing to completely even out before she pressed her lips to the crown of your head. 

“I love you too,” 

Always.

*****

It was scary how exhaustion and pain were becoming an everyday part of your life. How you were used to the stabbing sensation in your chest, and the tingles that sprouted from it. How you were used to the little anvils behind your eyelids. How you were used to fighting your instincts to curl up and hide away. 

By the time you made it to the hotel in Kansas City, you were losing that fight. You felt so heavy, exhaustion hitting you so bone-deep it was integrated into your very being. 

It only took one look at you by the trainers and they were agreeing that a nap in your room was much needed. They let you grab a lunch plate and head up with little question. Kelley and Emily hadn’t bothered you either, only putting the tv on low while you dozed. 

By dinner time, you felt ready to face the team. Well, as ready as you were going to get. 

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into the hallway and saw Lindsey already waiting, seated beside your door, kicking yourself for not getting dressed fast enough to walk down with Kelley and Emily. 

You hoped that this didn’t become a new normal for her. You were too tired to try and avoid her or to confront her head-on. 

“Hey,” She said, scrambling to a standing position.

You tilted your head in acknowledgment, stepping past her and clicking the elevator button. 

It felt eerily similar to the last time the two of you had spoken in person. Except this time she followed you into the elevator. 

“So silent treatment?” She asked mostly to herself as the doors slid shut, trapping the two of you together. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. You had nothing against talking to Lindsey, you were just so exhausted. 

You knew that you should bring up the shared dream, and the words that she had whispered when she thought you couldn’t hear. You knew you should thank her for comforting you when you had no right to ask for it. 

But what else was there to say? You had said it was only for the night, and you were damned and determined to keep that. She deserved for you to let her be happy, even if it wasn’t with you. 

You were too… raw to hear her say it though. Too raw for her to tell you again that she was going to choose him. That her comforting you had indeed been only for the night. Plus, it didn’t matter what she said while the two of you were alone. You knew the minute you were back with your friends, things would go back to the way they were before the dream, so believing her now would only… hurt more. 

Your chest already ached at the thought. 

Stifling silence was better than being rejected again. 

Lindsey sighed heavily from beside you, placing a heavy hand on your arm, forcing you to look at her. “Look, I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said, All of it,”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way goosebumps erupted across your arm where her skin touched yours. 

You had meant everything that you said too, no matter how much you loathe to admit it, but you were sure Lindsey already knew that. She was by no means blind to how wrapped around her fingers you were. 

She had known that you loved her since you were both barely adults. She had known since the first time the two of you… 

It didn’t matter what she knew. It didn’t matter what she said. She had said it all before, hadn’t she? And you didn’t want to pretend anymore. You were too tired for games. 

You nodded toward her, unwilling to argue. Her eyes tightened, and you could tell that she wanted to say more. 

But you didn’t want to hear it. She could say whatever she wanted, but people’s emotions didn’t change overnight. A dream wasn’t some magical Band-Aid that would fix everything that was broken. Especially when you were the one to say the truce was only for the night. 

Her mouth opened, but the elevator ding interrupted her before she could speak. Before she had the chance to crack the already broken shell you had built around yourself. 

You stared at her for a long moment, frozen in time, trapped in the deep pools of her sorry eyes, before you ripped your arm away from her and darted out of the elevator. 

You were moving so fast, looking behind you that you didn't see his tall, solid form until you were crashing into him. Her arms caught your shoulders as he steadied you.  

“Whoa, easy,” He chuckled. Liquid fire raced from your heart, out to the points he had touched, an unnerving numbing chasing after it. You pulled away from him like you had been burned. 

Your head whipped between him and Lindsey as you stumbled backward. Just as you thought, she only cared for you when no one was watching. 

You had been right not to trust her. 

*****

Pain was slowly becoming your close companion, the low ache in your chest and sludge in your stomach unwelcome friends that refused to leave your company. You closed your eyes tightly, pressing your face further into the cool cloth of the dining table. 

Emily and Kelley's warm hands did little to ease the throbbing emanating from the dark mark on your chest. 

“What is he even doing here?” You groaned into the white cloth, your eyes closed tightly leaning back into the soothing touch of your friends. It did little to help you, but you appreciated the effort. 

You didn’t want to deal with the situation. With him. You had thought about what you would do if you ever met him. If you were ever forced to be in the same room as him, and none of those options seemed viable. 

You were too exhausted, too pained to tell him what you thought of him. You cared for Lindsey too much to expose that she had lied to him, and it hurt too much to pretend like you were fine. 

“It’s her 100 cap celebration,” Kelley supplied, sounding equally as annoyed as you felt. Her finger lightly grazed the angry black line that extended over your shoulder. You doubted that your kit top would cover it, and you worried that the commentators would draw more attention. That after the game you would be flooded with comments from fans who didn’t understand and media outlets who wanted to profit off of your pain. 

They didn’t understand that it was excruciating being forced to watch your soulmate galavant with her boyfriend. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up, but It still made you want to vomit. 

“I didn’t think they were still talking. I thought she told him,” Emily mumbled, rubbing your back again as a form of apology. “She hasn’t been taking his calls since you left,” 

You forced yourself upright, shrugging off the hand and grabbing your fork. You angrily stabbed at your fruit. 

You hated that Emily had been caught between the two of you. It had acid pooling in your throat and made the throb moving up your shoulder pulse. Your pain should not be shared by your friends, and yet-

You shook your head, bringing the fruit to your lips. 

You felt dirty. Emily had agreed to help Lindsey and now the midfielder was flaunting her relationship in front of you all. 

“None of this is your fault,” You mumbled, chewing slowly. “It’s on her. She told me she loved me and now…-”

You shook your head again. You didn’t want an apology from Emily or Kelley. You didn’t even want one from Lindsey. You just wanted to be done. To run away and never come back. For it all to just… stop.

“There’s a difference between loving someone and being in love,” Kelley said softly, gently, like you were a fragile thing she was afraid to break. 

You hummed. You knew that. It was just part of you… a small part… wanted to believe that she could love you. That eventually, she would choose to love you. It was that small hope that kept the soul-sucking ache at bay. That had helped you force your way through your visit with your family and all of their unwanted commentary. 

“I just…” You trailed off, unsure of what you were even going to say. Your family had sapped all of your emotional energy, and this. Well, this just took whatever little you had left. “I don’t even know,” 

Maybe you would run off to Australia this time, where no one would ever think to look for you and your path would never cross with your soulmate. Not even during dreams. 

You took another bite of your fruit. 

“Hey guys,” Lindsey smiled hesitantly, approaching the table and pausing beside the two empty chairs across from you. It drew the attention (and glares) of the entire table to her. 

Your eyes were on her instantly. On the way his hand cupped the small of her back protectively and how she leaned back into him. 

The knife in your chest twisted and the sludge sloshed. You did not doubt that the mark above your heart would grow. It always did when she rejected you. 

You missed the greetings your friends sent their way, adding in your silent nod when Emily nudged you. 

At least Ty pulled her chair out for her as they sat across from you. 

You stared at him with a sort of masochistic curiosity, trying to see what she saw. 

He leaned forward in his chair, reminding you of a giddy child, his dimples showing. “You all ready for South Korea?”

Maybe she liked the way his dirt-colored eyes glinted with excitement. Or the way his head bobbed when he talked. 

It made your stomach roll again, ripping away the little appetite you had. 

You cleared your throat, pushing your plate away and standing. Your chair screeched against the floor. “No, I need to go get my stuff together,” 

You grabbed the still full plate, ignoring Emily and Kelley’s worried glances and Lindsey’s concerned eyes as you turned on your heel and headed for the door. 

You didn’t want or need Lindsey’s concern because clearly, she didn’t care enough. 

“So maybe I shouldn’t place too many bets on a high score line,” Ty chuckled, seemingly oblivious to your abrupt departure, or the awkward silence that had settled over the table. He glanced down at his plate, his smile only getting wider. “Ah shit, I forgot silverware,” he kissed Lindsey’s cheek and stood, his hand lingering on her shoulder as he headed back towards the food table. “Brb babe,” 

She sent him a half smile back and then turned back to the unimpressed looks from her friends. 

“You’re really something,” Kelley muttered around her glass. “But you already knew that,”

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed and she watched the defender carefully. “What?”

Kelley shook her head, her lips pursing as if she was thinking too hard about what she was going to say next. “You’re going to kill her, and you don’t even care,” 

Lindsey’s frown deepened, a crease forming on her forehead. She was killing you? She knew you were in pain but… killing?

She couldn’t wrap her head around it. “What?” 

The words felt dumb falling from her lips and she felt dumb for uttering them. 

“You’re going to kill her,” Kelley repeated, her teeth gritting, even as Emily’s hand landed on her thigh. A warning to keep her from saying more. The older defender took a long breath. “And I wished you gave a fuck. It would feel more fair if you pretended to give a fuck,” 

“I do give a fuck,” Lindsey hissed back, unable to stop the red that flooded her cheeks or the unwanted shiver that ran down her spine. 

She cared about you far more than she wanted to admit. She cared so much that it hurt. It made the spot in her chest right above her heart ache and burn. It was a sting she couldn’t even properly put into words. 

Kelley’s glass hit the table with more force than she meant for it to, and Emily’s hand tightened on her thigh. 

“I can’t be on your side when you do things like this,” Emily said, disappointment dripping from her voice. 

“For the record, I was never on your side,” Kelley interrupted her lip curling. 

“We talked about this,” Emily continued as if Kelley hadn’t spoken. “And this isn’t-“

“I’m trying, alright,” Lindsey bit out, interrupting the blonde defender. “I thought he would get the message,” 

She had been ignoring him for weeks. She didn’t invite him, but suddenly he was here. 

Kelley snorted, crossing her arms. “And now he’s here,” 

The older defender shook her head. She could still feel the black vein on your neck pulsing beneath her fingers like a dark promise. A siren of what was to come. A warning light that hadn’t been there before you had come face to face with him.

Emily’s fingers tightened on her. She wasn’t supposed to fight with Lindsey. She wasn’t supposed to get involved, she had promised you she wouldn’t but… she couldn’t just sit and watch. 

Not while you were so insistent on ripping yourself apart to keep the truth from Lindsey. 

Emily sighed, running the hand not holding Kelley through her hair. She knew she needed to pick her words carefully. 

“You know how to be a good human Lindsey,” She said slowly, pushing herself to stand. You shouldn’t be left to your own devices for long. “and you’re running out of time,”

She sent the midfielder a meaningful look before turning on her heel and heading off to find you. 

Kelley watched her leave, also pushing herself to stand. 

She paused, tapping her knuckle on the table and looking directly into Lindsey’s burning blue eyes. “You need to make the right choice,” 

She didn’t wait for Lindsey to reply before she too left the table, only taking a second to send Ty a glare as he reappeared at the table before heading out the door. 

Lindsey could only watch her, slightly stunned. Her hand idly came up to rub the spot right above her heart that never stopped aching. 

“Everything alright?” Ty asked, his hand landing heavily on her shoulder. Her eyes snapped to meet his. It burned where he touched her. It made the ice prickle in her veins. It felt… wrong. 

He looked concerned for her. He cared about something that he didn’t understand because he cared for her. It made the acid in her stomach bubble. 

He slid into the seat beside her, wrapping his arm more tightly around her. 

“Everything's fine,” She muttered, leaning into him, frowning when his warmth did nothing to soothe the prickling in her veins or the pain in her chest. 

He squeezed her shoulder. “You sure?” 

She sent him a very tight smile and a short nod. “Everything is wonderful,” 

He mirrored her, kissing her forehead and returning to his meal. 

His lips burned, and all she could feel was the impression of yours. How many times had you kissed her forehead after an intimate moment or comforted her when things looked bad? How many times had you wrapped your arm around her so she could snuggle into your chest? 

It made the pit in her stomach deepen, and she had no idea how she could stop it. 

*****

You didn’t think yourself to be a superstitious person, but you liked to keep your pre-game ritual similar. You liked your process. It helped you get your head in the right space, and you desperately needed something that would let you focus on anything other than Lindsey and her boyfriend. 

Your hands shook as you wrapped your red pre-wrap around your wrist, counting each pass in your head. 

It was something you had done since the middle of your run with PSG in France. A tradition that fans talked about online, but no one ever asked about it directly. 

For that you were thankful. 

The only person who understood was Lindsey. She had seen the lines that littered the inside of your wrists and arms. The lines that had been a physical manifestation of your pain. Habits that you had relied on off and on since your time in France. Once you had only given up after Emily made you promise. After she saved you from Florida. 

A part of you wished she hadn’t saved you. 

The coral had felt good digging into your back, slicing you open like cheese on a grater as the ocean waves had their way with you. It felt good to give up control. To just be. You remembered the moment that your foot tether got caught on the rocks. How you hadn’t panicked. How you felt almost… relieved.  How you stopped trying to reach for the diving knife you always kept on you or the velcro still around your ankle.  

You could still feel the burn of the salty ocean water as it fought its way past your lips, how it stung your nose and throat as you finally let go. You could still see the last bubble that escaped your lungs as the water rushed in and the diver's wide eyes as she cut you free just seconds before it was too late. 

Your oxygen-deprived brain had been convinced it was Lindsey coming to save you. That you weren’t nothing to her. 

And then you had woken up to bright lights and beeping machines. 

A hand covered your own, catching the athletic tape slipping through your fingers before it could fall to the ground. Your eyes snapped up to meet its owner, softening at Sofia’s shy smile. 

“Want some help?”

She gestured towards your arms, shaking the tape in her hand. 

Your eyes followed it, and you sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. 

The only person who had ever helped you with your tape was Lindsey. 

It was frustrating how intertwined you were with her, even when she didn’t want you. How you had shared so much of your life with her while she shared hers with him. 

“Or I can get Kelley or Emily,” Sofia said quickly, misinterpreting your hesitation. “You just look like you shouldn’t be alone,” 

“No, I,” You shook your head. The words were caught in your throat. Trapped there by an invisible ocean of rushing water surging into your lungs. 

You missed Huerta's gesture towards Kelley behind your shoulder or the way several of your teammates were looking at you with worried eyes. 

You only noticed when a warm, familiar hand landed on your shoulder, a thumb brushing the little black vein creeping up your neck. 

“Hey, Y/n take some deep breaths,” She said, very close to your ear, trying to keep her voice soft and calming. “Em will be back here in a few minutes. She just had to talk to the staff about her jersey,” 

You shook your head. “I’m ok Kell,”

She raised her eyebrow at you, unimpressed, and her fingers pressed into the little black vein just above your elbow as Huerta began to do your wrap. “You aren’t, and we both know it,”

You were pretty sure the entire team knew by this point, especially if the pitying looks Alex and Megan were sending your way were anything to go off of. It wasn’t like you were doing a good job of hiding it. 

You had never been good at pretending and you were just so tired. 

“I just need to make it through pre-game, and I’ll be fine,” You said too quickly. The field had always been your safe space, the game the only place where you felt free. If you could just make it there, then maybe you could postpone the inevitable. Maybe it would give you enough time not thinking for you to pull yourself together. 

Kelley let out a long sigh, her fingers squeezing your shoulder. “And then what?”

“I’ll play the game,” You answered automatically, robotically. 

“Then what happens after the game?” Kelley pressed, just as Sofia let go of your wrist and caught your other arm. 

You instantly ran it through your hair, closing your eyes tightly. “I haven’t really thought that far,” 

Sofia tried to keep her eyes on your arm, tried not to look towards the little sliver of skin that appeared when you shifted again and tried not to notice the angry black lines just barely visible below the hem of your jersey. 

She swallowed hard, focusing too much on finishing the wrap on your arm. 

She knew where marks like that came from, the entire team did. She knew that if she asked you about it, it would likely push you over the edge, the one you were already teetering on. 

“Pretending that it doesn’t exist won't make it disappear,” Kelley murmured, her thumb squeezing the place between your shoulder and neck, trying to alleviate the tension she felt there. 

You shrugged off her hand, catching the tape from Sofia’s grasp as she made the last turn around your wrist. “What other choice do I have?” 

Your voice was cold and thin. Like taking a step on a lake that was barely frozen over. It held a danger Sofia didn't necessarily understand beneath the surface, but it was enough. 

She cleared her throat, blinking up at you as she tore the tape roll from the piece secured to your arm, ignoring the glares burning into the side of her face from across the room. 

“I think you always have a choice,” She mumbled, pushing herself to stand. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Soph,” Kelley said gently, trying to cut the defender off. 

Sofia shook her head. “No. It’s true. We always have a choice,” 

A very small smile cracked across your features at her insistence. At her innocence. You very gently squeezed Kelley. Telling her that it was ok. “The problem is, someone else got to make it for me,” 

Sofia frowned her eyes darting over your shoulder, and you opened your mouth to continue. To try and explain the mess of a situation you found yourself in. How the only choice you had was to suffer for her. 

But you didn’t have to. She took a step forward, catching your hand. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve got the youngins and me behind you. No matter what,” 

You nodded once, swallowing the lump suddenly caught in your throat. 

She squeezed your arm for a long second before moving past you. 

You watched her go, your eyes trailing over her form and towards Lindsey who was shooting daggers your way. 

Kelley’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “it’s not just the youngins,” She said, sending a glare back toward Lindsey. “You’ve got the entire locker room behind you,”

You shrugged her off, ducking your head away from Lindsey’s burning eyes and moving back towards your locker. “I don’t need anyone to fight. That’s not fair to her,” 

You didn’t even notice how your hand instinctively came up to rub at the ever-present twinge in your chest. 

“And none of this is fair to you,” Kelley said sternly, her eyes never leaving Lindsey’s. 

You sighed. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate Kelley’s protectiveness, it was just that you were so tired, and she was making your plan to ignore the ache in your chest even more difficult than it already was. You didn’t need any more reasons to fall apart, not when you were already struggling to hold the frayed ends of yourself together. 

You just needed to make it through the game, and then you could disappear to Antarctica to die in peace. 

“Can we just… not?” You muttered, finally letting your exhaustion peek through the cracks in your voice. Kelley’s head snapped towards the sound, and a little part of you instantly hated the vulnerability leaking through your shell. “I just need to get through this game,” 

She blew out a long breath of her own, and you knew she wanted to argue. To say that pushing it all down wouldn’t do anyone any good, but she didn't. She nodded once, “Yeah, we can just not,” 

******

The game against Korea was… frustrating. More frustrating than you had expected it to be. 

You just couldn’t seem to get your head in the game, which was strange because the only part of your life that wasn’t falling apart was the pitch. 

Everything just felt off. You couldn’t connect with Lindsey and all 12 of your shots had either pinged off the crossbar or landed safely in the keeper's waiting hands. 

It was infuriating, and as the minutes slowly ticked by, you could feel yourself getting more and more worked up. Your passes to Alex and Mal were wide, your collection of balls from Sofia was increasingly sloppy and any chance you had at that point was shit. You could feel yourself giving in to your inner turmoil. Giving in more and more to the building pressure and Vlatko’s unhelpful demands. 

It was pathetic and you couldn’t help but despise yourself. 

By the time the final whistle blew, you were just done. More done than you could ever remember being. 

You always sought to find your limit. To push yourself until you couldn’t push yourself anymore. You always claimed you hadn’t found the edge yet. 

But here you were, teetering on the wrong side of it. 

You hoped maybe a shower would tether you to reality. That the hot water would be a welcome solace. That it would be the balm to the burning ache that settled heavily in your chest. 

You hoped that the universe would give you a fucking break for once. 

But of course, it couldn’t. 

You barely paid attention to the fans as you quickly finished your mandatory lap around the field, and headed towards the tunnel, ignoring the people calling your name as you slipped inside. 

The sight that met you made you wish you hadn’t. It made you wish you had pretended to be fine for them. 

It made your heart stop. 

The sight of him pressing her into the wall, their lips connected. Of his hands heavy on her hips, and her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of his neck. Of his thigh working its way between her legs and the way she leaned into the feeling. 

It made your chest bubble and your stomach churn, but you couldn’t force yourself to look away. 

You were just… frozen. 

You were stuck, wondering if it had looked the same way when you kissed her. If she had melted against you like she melted for him. If the two of you fit as seamlessly as they did. If her head tilted the same way, trying to get a better angle. If she enjoyed his kisses as much as she enjoyed yours. 

You could almost imagine her mouth against yours. The passion and love that you could always feel when she kissed you. How it filled you from the tips of your toes to the very top of your ears. It was another part of her that was imprinted on your soul. 

It was like watching a trainwreck, and you reveled in the morbid curiosity. In the knife twisting in your chest, slicing through your already torn heart with little care. 

She was kissing him where everyone could see them. Where a camera could spot them down the tunnel. Where the cheering of fans had just barely dulled.

It struck you like the wrong note on a guitar. 

She was proud to be his. 

She was never proud to be yours. Hell, she was never even yours. She was ashamed of you, and she kept you hidden like a dirty little secret. 

It was pathetic that you couldn’t see it until now. That you had been too stubborn to accept that she would never want you. Not when she had him. 

You were pathetic. Unwanted. Completely unlovable. 

The realization was like a grenade exploding in your chest, blowing apart the little pieces of your heart that were left.

“Come on,” 

Warm hands were suddenly on your shoulder, and a voice was very close to your ears, but you barely heard it over the roaring in your head or the pounding of your heart. 

The hands urged you forward, towards the locker room and away from the scene. It felt like you were underwater, the halls passing too slowly and too quickly all at the same time. The lines of the concrete walls blurred together. Your stomach rolled just as the locker room door swung open, and you were pushed into a seat. 

“I can't fucking believe her,” Emily hissed, slamming the door carelessly behind her. 

Kelley sighed, settling down beside you and catching your hand. “I can,” 

You hadn’t even realized your nails were digging into your chest, clawing at your racing heart, trying to get to the burning ice it was pushing through your veins.  Your stomach bubbled, and you could feel the bile climbing to the back of your throat. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” 

The words barely left your lips before a trash can was pressed into your chest. 

Kelley rubbed your back as you heaved, emptying what little was in your stomach into the trash can. “Let it out, kid,” 

You grimaced, pulling away when you were finished, accepting a towel from Emily as she took the trash can. You wiped your mouth, ignoring the pity radiating from her. 

You didn’t want her pity. You didn’t want anyone’s pity. You wanted to disappear. To… never have existed, to begin with. 

Emily blew out a long breath, settling beside you, her head resting in her palms. “She just… I thought she was sorry. I thought…”

“It’s not your fault,” You croaked, shaking your head. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own. If you weren’t so weak then maybe Lindsey would think you were worthy of her. 

“No. This is all on Lindsey,” Alex said, her voice edging on exasperation. “I don’t know what the fuck she was thinking,” 

You blinked up at them, realizing for the first time that your other teammates had followed you, Emily, and Kelley, back. That you weren’t alone. 

It was like a switch flipped in your head. Like the volume of a radio getting turned up to 11. The voices of your teammates blurred together around you in an indignant symphony of too much sound.

 You couldn’t handle it. You didn’t have enough emotional fortitude to deal with this. Not in a way that wouldn’t upset them. 

Your fingers dug into your temples. You didn’t want them to be involved. 

“Stop,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.   

The room froze in response, their pitying gazes sinking into your form. 

You didn’t want their pity either. 

You cleared your throat, trying to push through the croakiness. “I’m too tired to deal with this shit. I just-“ 

The words died on your lips as the locker room door swung open, and Lindsey stepped into the room. 

Everyone's attention snapped to her, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes dragged down her form. You couldn’t help how you traced the flyaway hairs pulled from her tight ponytail, the slight swelling of her lips, or the way her jersey was slightly bunched just above her waist. It was evidence. The final nails in an already closed coffin. 

You cleared your throat again, tearing your eyes away from her and examining your still cleat-covered foot, ignoring the suffocating tension that had built in the room. “I think I’m just gonna go to the bus and catch a nap. I’ll shower when we get back to the hotel,” 

The words sounded robotic as they left your lips, scratchy in a way that your voice rarely was, almost like someone else was saying them. 

They hung in the air for a long minute as you gathered the strength to push yourself to your feet. 

“Oh,” Lindsey breathed out, but you ignored it, focusing instead on trying to keep your legs from wobbling as you shoved yourself up. 

“I’ll come with you,” Kelley said, mirroring your move stand and casually wrapping an arm around your waist, steadying you.  “I’m tired too. A nap might be good,” 

A part of you wanted to be annoyed with the defender, but the larger, exhausted part of you was grateful for her protectiveness. 

You leaned into her, letting her care and safety wrap around you, as she guided you out of the room. 

You knew she couldn’t shield you for forever, but you would take any moment of peace that you could get. 

*****

Lindsey stood frozen as you brushed past her, Kelley’s glare daring her to try and stop you.

It filled her with a feeling she didn’t quite understand. 

She could feel the angry gazes of her teammates as she trudged back to her locker. They were like sites on a gun, and she was waiting for whatever bullet they wanted to send. 

“Do I have something on my face?” She asked toward no one in particular as she pulled off her boots and socks. “Or are we starting a new trend where we stare as people undress,” 

“Kelley’s right,” Sofia said, her voice breaking through the murmurs spreading around the locker room. “You’re fuck-“

“No,” Emily interrupted the young defender, with a small shake of her head, looking more tired than Lindsey had ever seen her. “Y/n doesn’t want us to fight,” 

“Let her finish Em,” Lindsey spat back, annoyed even if she didn’t have a right to be. Even if she was in the wrong. Being angry was easier than facing the truth. “Get it off your chest. What is Kelley right about?” 

“That it would feel more fair if you pretended to give a fuck,” Emily said softly before Sofia could answer, and Emily saw recognition in the other defender's eyes.

It was the least inflammatory thing Kelley had said. The only thing that didn’t indicate malicious intent in Lindsey’s actions. The only true thing that hopefully wouldn’t cause Lindsey to dig her heels in more. 

They weren’t sure how much more digging you could take. 

“I do give a fuck,” Lindsey hissed, accentuating the irritation she felt at the jab. 

Sofia scoffed. “Yes, because kissing your boyfriend just feet from the edge of the tunnel you knew your soulmate was going to walk down is totally giving a fuck,” 

Lindsey finally looked up at the young defender, meeting her burning glare. 

Her lip curled at the implication. “That wasn’t planned,” 

“And you were trying your hardest to stop it weren’t you?” Sofia bit back sarcastically, ignoring Emily’s hand on her arm. The warning to slow down.  “That’s why you were pulling him closer to you instead of pushing him away,” 

Lindsey's eyebrows furrowed. She hadn’t been expecting the venom in those words. The disdain. Maybe from Kelley, or even Alex, Tobin, and Christen, sure. She expected the vets to be upset because they understood the history she had with you. 

She never expected someone new to the team to butt into an already complicated situation. One they clearly didn’t understand. 

“What the fuck is your problem,” Lindsey bit back, squinting at the defender. “I don’t know why you think you have the right to comment-“ 

“Because no one else will,” Sofia growled. “We’re watching Y/n destroy herself and no one will say anything because she cares too much about you to let us. Someone needs to care about her, and it certainly isn’t you,” 

“Soph,” Emily attempted to interrupt her, to cut off the building anger crackling off of Lindsey’s form, and to stop Sofia from saying something that you didn’t want Lindsey to know. 

“No. Don’t Soph me. She needs to know!” The defender bellowed, her chest heaving as she finally ripped her eyes away from Lindsey. “Fuck whatever convoluted chivalrous act Y/n wants to pretend she’s committing. You’ve seen the-“

“That’s enough.” Emily snapped, authority filling her voice, silencing Huerta before she could finish her sentence. 

Huerta met her eyes, and an unspoken conversation passed between them. 

Lindsey’s eyes widened at the sentence. What had Emily seen that she hadn’t? She knew you were in pain, that was obvious, but was there something that she wasn’t seeing? 

She needed to know. 

“No, let her continue since she thinks she knows Y/n so well,” Lindsey said, purposefully raising her eyebrow. Trying to get a reaction. “It’s been what, 2 months since you’ve met her?” 

Emily’s blue eyes darted back to her. “Enough,” The defender said, gesturing for Sofia towards the bathroom. “Go take your shower. Vlatko wants you for media,” 

Sofia frowned. “But,”

Emily shook her head. “Go,” 

Sofia swallowed hard, but nodded, angrily grabbing her change of clothing and doing as she was told. 

Both blondes watched as Sofia left, and a charged silence stretched between them. 

You had asked Emily not to get involved. You told her you didn’t want her in the middle. 

That didn’t mean she wasn’t. 

“I told you to be a good human. I told you to have a hard conversation,” Emily said softly, turning back to her own locker, but no one mistook exactly who she was addressing. “Instead you chose to flaunt him in front of her,” 

“Like she wasn’t flaunting whatever is going on with her and Sofia,” Lindsey scoffed before she could stop herself. Just saying the words out loud had a strange ache forming just above her heart. One that had nothing to do with the jealousy that bubbled in her stomach any time she saw the attention you gave the defender. 

Especially when she was on her knees, wrapping your arms before the game. 

Emily paused, gripping her sweatshirt and turning back towards her best friend, an incredulous look plastered across her features. “Do you even fucking hear yourself? You still think this is a game, don’t you?”

Lindsey didn’t answer, instead choosing to pick at a hangnail on her thumb. She didn’t think it was a game, but if you were going to ignore her and Ty wasn’t, then maybe she hadn’t seen the harm. Maybe she wanted you to feel the jealousy bubbling in her veins. 

Maybe she hadn’t thought it through. 

Emily shook her head. “I’m not even sure it matters. I think you’re out of time,” 

She didn’t add that she wasn’t on Lindsey’s side anymore either as she exited the room and that she was pretty sure most of their team echoed her sentiment. 

*****

Your fingers dug into the marble countertop of the hotel bathroom, your nails scraping at the surface like they would keep you from falling over the edge. Like the pressure would stop the anvil on your chest from caving your sternum in.

Water pooled on the surface and the floor below you, still dripping from the shower. 

You understood why Kelley had been reluctant to leave you while the team went to dinner, but you promised you just wanted a shower. You just wanted to sleep when Lindsey couldn’t follow you. 

You dragged your eyes from the gold-plated faucet to the mirror. You paused at the angry back web that began just above the towel around your waist. The pulsing lines that now covered your stomach, tracing back to a solid black circle the size of a baseball right over your heart, continued over your shoulder and down your left arm, nearly past your elbow. 

The dark marks were accented by the deep red of your skin, abused by the too-hot water in the shower and your incessant scrubbing. 

An Ill thought attempt to remove her mark on you. To get rid of the traces she had left. 

Pathetic 

You sneered the words in your head, forcing your eyes up the column of your throat and meeting them in the mirror. 

They reminded you of a shark's eyes. Cold and unfeeling. Completely soulless. 

That was how this would all end, wasn’t it? 

The dark mark was just a representation of the punishment the universe was inflicting on you. That Lindsey was inflicting on you for being unworthy after all. 

You would lose everything that you were. It would be taken from you, piece by piece until all that was left was a shell only capable of feeling pain and misery. 

You once thought that feeling nothing would be worse, but now it was all you longed for to be removed from your emotions. To not feel the pain and agony that had become your closest allies. 

You tighten your grip on the counter, hoping it could help steady the building storm in your chest. 

You deserved the pain. 

Your mother had been telling you since you could walk, but you were just too afraid to listen. 

You were weak. Worthless. Unlovable. 

It was almost funny how it was her voice cackling in your head. 

You shouldn’t have been shocked. Why would Lindsey choose you over him? She wouldn’t.

She didn’t. 

You were nothing compared to him. You were nothing at all.  

Lindsey had said so herself the night of your World Cup win, as she shoved your lips off of her neck and kicked you out of the closet the two of you were sharing. She told you it was a mistake. Meaningless. 

Weak. Worthless. Unlovable. Nothing. 

Lindsey’s voice joined your mother’s, repeating the words in your head over and over. 

And you blinked up at yourself in the mirror, realizing that your hands had moved to clutch at your ears. To stop the word’s running around your brain. 

Your face morphed in the mirror, your mother's sneer replacing your features. 

No one would ever want you. You were weak. Worthless. Unlovable. 

Nothing. 

You felt the walls of the room closing in on you, your mothers cackling laugh echoing through your head so loudly it was shaking the room. Shaking the mirror. 

You needed everything to stop moving. 

Weak. Worthless. Unlovable. Nothing. 

You needed it to stop. 

The mirror cracked before your eyes, the pain radiating through your hand only after the tremendous crash drowned out their voices. 

It didn’t hurt though. It felt good. But it wasn’t enough. 

Your fist collided with the glass again, and again and again. Intent on obliterating the face staring back at you. Intent on destroying your face. 

Piece by piece your reflection collapsed, leaving only glittering shards in its place. 

You were only satisfied when your entire form disappeared and just a blank white and red wall was left. 

You blew out a shuddering breath, stumbling backward and sliding down the wall until you were leaning against the tub, uncaring of the glass pieces prickling at your bare skin. 

At least you were feeling something other than your internal pain. At least it was tangible. 

You picked up one of the larger shards, catching a blue eye in its reflection. 

You were just a mistake. We are nothing. You are nothing. 

Lindsey’s words echoed around your brain, pricking at your veins, and your hand unintentionally tightened around the shard. 

Why did you think she would pick you? 

You were weak. Worthless. Unlovable. Nothing. 

*******

Kelley knew that they should not have left you after the game. 

She knew that it was a very bad idea, despite your insistence that you were just going to take a shower and maybe watch some television while they got dinner with the team. 

She trusted that you were stable enough to do that. But She could just feel that something bad was going to happen. It was like a snake slithering through her ribs and settling deep in her bones. 

As she stepped into your shared hotel room, she knew trusting you had been a very bad idea. 

Very, very, very bad.

Her breath caught as she stepped into the hotel room, the open bathroom door immediately caught her attention. Her eyes were drawn to your stoic form, sitting in a towel, propped up against the tub. A sea of glass surrounded you, glinting off the harsh fluorescent lights speckled with little flecks of red. Like islands dotted around the ocean. 

But the thing that made her stomach curl was the dark mark on your torso. The epicenter was right at the center of your chest with tentacle-like veins stretching across your abs and shoulder, twisting along your neck and arm, pulsing with bubbling black sludge in time with your heart. 

It reminded Kelley of a murder scene from one of the old horror movies Emily liked to watch. Like a horrifically poetic monstrosity of modern art. 

“Holy fuck,” Emily breathed out right next to Kelley’s left ear. 

She knew you could be self-destructive, but she hadn’t expected this… maybe she should have. 

You didn’t move at the sound. You didn’t even look over at them. You just looked… blank and it sent an unpleasant shiver down Emily’s spine. 

She hadn’t seen that look on your face since Florida. 

“Go get her some clothes, I’m going to try to get her out of here,” Kelley sighed. 

You couldn’t stay in a bloody towel especially if you had cut yourself worse than the scratches Kelley could already see, and you couldn’t exactly walk out with all the glass on the floor. 

“Yeah,” Emily nodded, squeezing Kelley’s hips before moving around her and further into the hotel room. 

Kelley took a long steadying breath, stepped forward, her shoes crunching in the shattered glass, and squatted so she was at eye level with you. 

“Hey, Y/n,” She said gently, “How about we get you out of there? Ok?” 

You blinked listlessly at her, your head lolling to the side in what Kelley assumed was an acknowledgment. 

She took another shaky breath, again tracing down the black vein curing around your neck and down your arm. Besides the dark marks, your chest and torso appeared to be alright. So did your right hand, but your left… 

Your knuckles were stained red, dripping maroon droplets to your fingertips, pooling on the ground just beside your hip. 

“Y/n,” She tried again. Your hand shifted slightly in return, and that’s when she caught the glint of the glass shard in your palm. 

“Hey, sweetie, can you put the glass down for me please?” She asked, swallowing hard to hide the panic threatening to overtake her. She had to be calm for you. 

You blinked again, your hand shifting slightly, almost like you couldn’t process her words. Kelley tilted her head, catching your empty eyes. 

“Y/n,” Kelley said more sternly, hoping to break through whatever stoic wall you had put in place. “Drop the mirror,” 

Silence stretched between you for a long minute, before your fingers unwound from the shard in your hand. It hit the floor with a low tink, splashing in the liquid beside you. Still, Kelley felt the knot in her chest unwind just a little now that the immediate threat was gone. 

“Let’s get you up, ok?” She asked, extending a hand to you. “And dressed,” 

“The mirror broke,” You croaked out in response, and Kelley frowned. 

“I can see that,” She sighed, wiggling her fingers towards you. “let’s get you out of here, and we can call maintenance to take care of it,” 

You stared at the outstretched appendage for a long second, as though you were afraid of it before you slowly nodded. 

“I’m going to lift you,” she said gently, waiting for you to slowly nod again before she scooped you up and carefully carried you out of the bathroom. 

Emily smiled tightly at you as Kelley set you on your feet in front of their bed. Together they ran a towel down your legs to remove any extra glass and helped you into your sweats and t-shirt. 

You blew out a long breath when they were finished, settling on the end of the bed and allowing Kelley to guide your hand into her lap. Emily took your other side, idly rubbing your back as you both watched Kelley carefully began to examine the mangled flesh of your hand. 

She was methodical as she used a warm washcloth to compress your hand, moving it only to catch little peeks at the gashes in your knuckles and the slice right at the center of your palm. 

You flexed your fingers when she pressed just a bit too tightly, hissing in pain. 

Both defenders shared a long look. This wasn’t something they could patch up themselves, not when you were still actively bleeding. 

“We’re going to have to take you to Dawn,” Kelley said seriously, dabbing another bit of glass from the back of your hand, red oozing out after it. “I think you need stitches,” 

You nodded solemnly, unwilling to fight. 

There was nothing for you to fight for anyway. 

Kelley and Emily shared another worried look. They didn’t like how quiet you were. How still you were. It was somehow worse than when you were vocal about the pain you were in. 

It made them wonder about why the mirror had broken, and your intention behind it. 

Emily cleared her throat. “Y/n, was this like when you went surfing in Florida?” 

You shook your head, biting your lip. 

This felt very different from Florida. 

“What happened?” Kelley pressed, again peeking at the very deep gash on your palm. 

You squinted, trying to think of how to put it into words. 

Everything had just been too much, and you wanted your brain to stop. You wanted Lindsey to stop. You wanted the pain in your chest to go away and to feel anything other than the weight of your failure. 

“I just wanted it to stop,” You said finally, your voice horse and straining. “I needed it to stop,”

“Alright,” Kelley sighed. “Let’s get you to Dawn so she can clean you up,” 

You nodded once again, letting Kelley and Emily guide you to your feet and towards the door. 

Dawn would be able to help you.

*****

Emily blew out a long, shaky breath, leaning back into Kelley’s chest. Her eyes never left your form, tucked into a hospital bed. 

It had been surprisingly easy to convince you that you needed stitches, especially when Dawn told you that a hospital was your best option. 

You had answered all of her and the doctor's questions with shocking honesty and sat perfectly still as an intern stitched and wrapped the mangled flesh of your hand (but not before Kelley snapped a picture of it and the dark lines curling from your chest). 

“It’s not a permanent solution, but the medication we’ve given her should help for now,” The doctor explained carefully, gesturing towards you in the window. 

Emily hummed in agreement. 

The IV they gave you had the dark veins in your neck and shoulder retreating, leaving thin gray behind. It had the color returning to your eyes, even if they were still dull. It was enough and not nearly enough all at once. 

“How long do you think it’ll last?” Kelley asked very softly. 

The doctor’s shoulders lifted and fell. “It all depends on her soulmate,” 

Kelley nodded in understanding. 

Soulmate sickness was one of the most mysterious illnesses out there. One of the trickiest to stop. The only one that was dependent on another person's actions.

Lindsey’s actions were killing you. 

What was worse was that you were going to let her. 

“Thank you,” The older defender said towards the doctor, and he bid them goodbye. 

Emily let out another long breath. “How did it come to this?” 

She had never imagined that two of her teammates would be in a position like this. That Lindsey would put you in a position like this. 

Not with the history the two of you shared. 

“Well,” Kelley said, dragging out the word. “Lindsey is afraid of god knows what, and Y/n loves her so much she’s willing to let her be happy, even if it kills her,”

Emily made a low sound in the back of her throat. “We shouldn’t have left her alone,” 

Kelley’s arms tightened around her waist, and her nose nudged under Emily’s ear, before she let go, using insistent fingers on Emily’s hips to get her to turn around. 

“I don’t know that we could have stopped her,” Kelley said seriously, making eye contact with Emily’s gray. “I know you tried in Portland, but this is uncharted territory, even for her,” 

Emily’s eyes darted away from her, but Kelley didn’t let her pull away. “Em, you couldn’t have stopped her,” 

Emily nodded slightly. It was just hard. She had been looking out for you since you came to Portland. She was one of the first to know about your… situationship? Friends with benefits arrangement? With Lindsey. She was the first person you told that you had caught feelings. 

She saw the fallout the first time.  

She knew about the little lines that had littered the insides of your thighs. She knew how they had appeared no matter how hard she had tried to stop them.

But this was different. They had no idea how you had broken the mirror, or how long you sat in the mess. Dawn guessed that the wounds had been open for at least an hour and from the amount of blood in the bathroom. They were just lucky you hadn’t dropped the piece of glass until they got there, or tried to pick the smaller pieces out of your skin. 

“I know,” Emily murmured, leaning forward so her forehead touched Kelley’s. “I just hate seeing her like this,”

“I do too,” Kelley agreed softly. 

“What do we do?” Emily asked, her voice cracking. 

“Tobin and Christen are on their way, so we wait until they get here,” Kelley said, pulling back just slightly to peek at your still sleeping form through the window.  “and in the meantime, we do the only thing we can do,” 

She pulled her phone from her back pocket and flicked through her contacts. She found the one she was looking for and typed out a simple text, including 3 pictures. 

Emily’s hand covered the screen, stopping her from hitting the send button. “Is that a good idea?” 

“Do you have a better one?” Kelley asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Emily sighed, shaking her head, and pulling her hand away. 

She didn’t have a better idea. She had no idea how to navigate this situation at all. 

Kelley pressed the button and then tucked her phone away again. 

She turned back towards your sleeping form. “Now, let’s go keep her company,” 

Emily hummed. That was all they could do. Keep you company and keep you together until more experienced hands arrived. 

Hopefully, you didn’t have any more chunks missing by the time they got there. 

You had made it back from the brink of disaster once, now they had to pray you had the will to do it again. 

*****

It was safe to say that this night had not gone at all the way Lindsey had planned, not that she had a brilliant plan to begin with. 

She let out a breath, glancing down at the man beside her. Her eyes traced his bare chest, down his arms to where their fingers were intertwined. 

She didn’t know he was coming. She hadn’t anticipated that he wouldn’t take her ducking and dodging as hints that she didn’t want him to come. 

She also didn’t anticipate your reaction. You barely even looked at her, and it had unexpected jealousy creeping in her veins until she let him kiss her in an effort to get you to finally notice. To have some kind of reaction that wasn’t stoicism. 

The incident in the locker room after should have been expected. Her two worlds had collided and it ended in destruction that even she couldn’t have predicted. 

An unmitigated disaster with you at the epicenter. 

Her disaster. 

She blew out another long breath. 

There was another reason she didn’t push him away, one that was even more difficult for her to acknowledge. Pushing him away would mean admitting that there was something wrong in their relationship. It would raise red flags that she wasn’t ready to face, especially with her parents in town too. 

If they knew… she was sure they would reject her. 

But in the process of protecting herself, she hurt you. She didn’t know exactly how much, but it was enough to send her teammates into a frenzy. 

It was enough to turn the locker room against her, despite your apparent efforts to get them to remain neutral. 

She wasn’t surprised, even she was against herself. She just… didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t even know where to start. 

Well, that was a lie. She did know where to start. Emily told her where to start. She was just too much of a coward to do it. 

It made her hate herself. She didn’t want to hurt you. She never wanted to hurt you. 

Her phone dinged from the bedside table, and she couldn’t resist the urge to grab it, hoping that it was you. 

It wasn’t. 

Still, she swiped Kelley’s notification. She wished she hadn’t. 

It was a sentence she would never forget. 

I think you should see what you’re doing to her.

Below it were three photos. 

The first was of knuckles, torn and jagged. Sliced over and over by a force she didn’t know. The second was a palm cut nearly to the bone, tendons, and muscle peeking from its uneven edges. Both were wet, oozing, fresh. 

But it was the 3rd picture that stole the air from her lungs and set her chest on fire. Bubbling, and burning, in an ache that spread with every beat of her heart. 

It was a zoomed-out photo of the arm and shoulder attached to the mangled hand. Dark tendrils stretched from the elbow, winding around the arm, over the shoulder. It crept up the neck, and towards a pitch-black bruise right above the person's heart. 

You should see what you’re doing to her.

Lindsey shook her head. Right above your heart. 

“Fuck,”

“Wha’,” Ty mumbled, sitting up with bleary eyes, catching a glimpse of the grotesque image on the phone. He grabbed the device, pulling it closer. “Shit, is that one of your teammates?”

Lindsey pressed her lips into a thin line, nodding minutely. If she opened her mouth, she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears from coming out.

She knew what lines like that on a person meant. 

Kelley and Sofia were right. 

She was killing you, and she hadn’t even known it. The bruise on your chest was just an outward manifestation of your decaying soul. Or maybe she knew, but she wasn’t strong or brave enough to stop it. She didn’t give enough of a fuck to stop it before it was too late. 

Emily was right too. She knew how to be a good human, and she had chosen not to. 

“Babe?” Ty asked gently, and it was then she realized that she was shaking. That the low sob echoing through the hotel room was coming from her. 

He dropped the phone and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug just as she fell apart. She buried her face in his chest, gut-wrenching sobs clawed their way from her lips like ripped pieces of her soul and landed against his skin. 

She hadn’t cried through any of this. She didn’t deserve to cry, not when she was the one responsible for your pain. For your suffering. 

“It’s alright, just let it out,” He murmured into her hair, rocking her gently. “I’ve got you,” 

He held her together like a good man… a good person should. 

And it made her feel worse because all she could think about was the feeling of your chest, of your arms wrapped around her. Your perfume in her nose and your hushed whispers reminding her that everything would be ok. 

She couldn’t be that for you. She couldn’t put her own needs aside, even when you were ripping yourself apart. 

Yet, he held her even when she didn’t deserve it. When she deserved for him to throw her away. 

Slowly, her sobs turned into sniffles, and she clung to him for dear life, for the last moments she knew he would let her. 

She couldn’t hide from reality anymore. She couldn’t hurt you anymore. 

“You gonna tell me what this is all about?” He asked softly into her hair, never forcing her out of his chest. 

She sucked in a shuttered breath, pulling herself away, wiping her eyes, and looking anywhere but at him. 

The time had finally come for the important conversation. For the truth. 

“I-“ She gulped around the words caught in her throat. She took another shuddering breath, steeling herself. “I met my soulmate,” 

A pregnant pause stretched between them, only broken when he reached across and gently caught her hand, squeezing once.

It took her another long second to gain the courage to look up and need his brown eyes. The resignation she saw there made her hate herself that much more. 

“How long ago?” The question was soft, and not at all what Lindsey was expecting. 

She bit her lip. “We had the dream almost 4 months ago,” 

A small sad smile pulled at his lips, as he caught her phrasing. “But you’ve known her for a lot longer?” 

Lindsey nodded. 

“We agreed we’d tell each other as soon as it happened,” He said, his voice staying gentle. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lindsey said, suddenly finding their intertwined fingers interesting. 

She didn’t have more of an explanation. Not one that would be sufficient anyway. 

He sighed, running the hand not holding hers through his hair. Of course, he knew they would eventually meet their soulmates, but they had agreed to be open about it when it happened and to make those decisions together. 

That plan also hadn’t included another person in as much pain as Lindsey’s soulmate clearly was. It didn’t include them knowing their soulmate before the dream. 

But Lindsey did know her soulmate. Those photos had come from someone in the team, and he had a feeling he already knew exactly whose arm it was. 

“It’s y/n right?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “How did you…?”

He just chucked, squeezing her hand again.

“It’s the way you two look at each other,” He explained gently, remembering how he noted the closeness Lindsey and you shared, even before he had met you. The blonde was always so at ease with you, even when she wasn’t open with him. He had been surprised at first that you two weren’t soulmates looking for a third. You just… fit too perfectly to not be soulmates. “I’ve thought you were meant to be for a long time,” 

“But I’m not gay,” Lindsey grumbled, crossing her arms, and Ty cracked a smile at her, shaking his head. The tension immediately dissipated from the room. 

Of course, that’s what the problem was. 

“There’s such a thing as bisexuality Linds,” He said as if it were obvious. “And I don’t think whatever label you pick matters when it comes to your soulmate,” 

It wasn’t like you got to choose your soulmate, but that fear was still there. She hadn’t considered that she might not have to choose a label. That you weren’t asking her to. All you wanted was the acknowledgment that she felt what you did.

That’s all that you had ever wanted from her. 

And she couldn’t even give you that. 

But she had him. This incredible person who was actively advocating for you, even when it meant that he would lose her. 

She also had you, who was willing to stand aside in agony if it meant she got to be happy. 

She shook her head. It wasn’t fair to compare the two of you, but she couldn’t help it. She could never help it. She loved him, but not in the way that she loved you. 

She was in love with you. She always had been. 

“You’re not mad?” She asked so softly, selfishly. She didn’t want to lose him. 

He shook his head, giving her hand another squeeze. “I’m disappointed you didn’t tell me sooner, but I’m not angry with you,”

More tears left Lindsey’s eyes without her permission, trailing hot paths down her cheeks, and he pulled her back into his chest. “I don’t want you to hate me,” 

He sighed, holding her closer, his finger weaving into her hair and gently scratching her scalp. It was a move he knew soothed her. One he had ironically learned from you. 

“I could never hate you, Linds,” He murmured the words into her hair, resting his chin on the crown of her head. “Not for this,”

Lindsey let out a wet laugh, pulling away. “Y/n does, and so do most of my teammates,”

Ty carefully brought his hands to her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe the tears still trailing down her cheeks. “They don’t, they’re just disappointed too,” 

Again she was struck by how good he was. By how mature and caring he was. By how good of a father he would make one day. 

But his hands didn’t feel as soft as yours did. They didn’t make her feel as safe as yours did. 

The longing she felt for you was so deep in her bones it hurt, and the pictures Kelley sent her put the ball in her court. 

It was her job to make it right. 

“I need to fix it,” She mumbled, sniffling slightly. 

He smiled sadly again, leaning forward and placing a very sweet kiss on her forehead before pulling away and standing. “I have faith you will,” 

She watched him quietly as he pulled on his shirt, packed his small bag, and slid his shoes onto his feet before he paused by the edge of the bed. 

She couldn’t fight the sudden urge to reach out her fingers towards him, to be connected to him for what would most likely be the last time. 

He met her halfway, tangling their fingertips together in a slow dance. “If you ever need anything just call alright?” He said, and she felt his honesty. “I’m still your guy,” 

His fingers slipped from hers for the final time. 

He might be her guy, but she wasn’t his girl. 

Not anymore. 

She was yours. 

She just had to figure out how to tell you that. How to get you to forgive her? 

Silence echoed around her as he softly closed the door, and for once she felt totally and completely alone. 

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through contacts, looking for someone who would tell her what to do. 

She paused over Tobin’s contact photo. The forward had always been close to you, and she would know what to do, even if she would be disappointed in Lindsey. 

She pressed Tobin’s contact picture, holding the phone up to her ear and closing her eyes. 

Tobin was the only one who knew you as well as she knew herself. 

The phone rang twice before Tobin’s faint “hello” met her. 

“I fucked up,”

*****

Lindsey had never felt more exhausted in her entire life, not even after she had played 120 minutes in 100-degree weather. Not after running endless drills with you in France. Not even after looking all over for you after you disappeared the night of the World Cup. 

Never. 

It was a fatigue that settled deep in her bones, that followed her through every movement she made. That made it impossible for her to think about anything other than you. A weariness that had nothing to do with her lack of sleep. 

Her only saving grace was the warm cup of coffee. She sipped the dark liquid reverently, eyes shifting between her parents and the door every few minutes, waiting for you or Kelley, or Emily to step through the doors. 

To prove that the photos she had received last night were a bad dream. A cruel prank. 

But mornings after games tended to be slow, and this morning was no different. The few veterans who were in the meal room puttered about lazily, sending looks her way at odd intervals that made her feel like they knew something she didn’t know. 

Like they were scolding her without words. 

“Sweetie, are you ok?” Her mother’s hand caught her own, gently pulling the coffee cup from her hand. 

Lindsey blinked, once, twice, three times as the words filtered through her brain. 

Was she ok?

The definitive answer was no, absolutely not. 

Her world was crumbling around her, and the only person to blame was herself. She had hurt her soulmate so badly that she didn’t know if she would ever forgive her, and the thought of losing you made it hard to breathe. 

She didn’t know how to be without you, and now she was staring that very prospect in the face. 

She let out a shaky breath, blue eyes finally finding the courage to meet her mother's gaze. 

Concerned eyes she knew would turn cold and hard when she informed them of what she had done. Eyes that would surely reject her when they found out that you were a girl and not the dashing young man they had envisioned for her. 

It was like there was a world between them, a chiasm that they didn’t even know existed filled with the admission that she had been lying to them for a long time. Filled with a suffocating silence and words that Lindsey needed to say. 

She could hear Tobin in her head. “The first step is honesty. With yourself and everyone else,” and she knew with everything she was that the midfielder turned forward was right. 

The only way to undo this mess was to be honest. To untangle each half-truth one at a time. To mend each hurt with kept promises and replace each pretend moment with reality. 

The only way she was going to get you back was to confront her fear. That started with this. 

“No,” Lindsey said, shaking her head minutely. “I’m not ok. I messed up really bad, and I don’t know if I can fix it,” 

Her father frowned. “Is this about the game?”

“You played so well honey. Korea just had a bead on the team's offense,” Her mother added, using her free hand to grab Lindsey’s arm. 

She stared at them, slightly dumbfounded at how unseeing they were. How they didn’t seem to know her at all. How they didn’t even pick up on her inner turmoil. 

“No. I-“ She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “I had the soulmate dream,” 

“Oh,” Lindsey’s mother breathed out, leaning back in her chair. 

“By Ty’s lack of presence, I’m assuming it wasn’t with him?” Her father said, sipping his coffee. 

She shook her head. “No,”

“Well, we’ll have to meet the young man,” He added flatly, barely looking up from his cup. “He’s part of the family now,” 

“It’s not,” She took a gulping breath, before forcing the words past her lips. “My soulmate isn’t a young man,” 

Her father looked up, locking eyes with her mother. They shared a long look, the kind that only soulmates having a silent conversation could before her mother gently squeezed her hand. 

“Is it Y/n?”

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed, entirely unexpecting of her mother’s response. “Wha?… how did you?”

“Sweetie,” Her mother smiled gently at her. “The two of you have been attached at the hip since the moment you met,” 

“We’ve been expecting this for a while,” Her father added gruffly. 

“And you’re alright with that?” Her voice cracked over the word, and her eyes ducked away. 

She knew how they felt about homosexuality. She had heard about it for her entire childhood. She didn’t want to lose them too. 

“You don’t get to choose your soulmate,” Her Father said, though he didn’t sound happy about the omission, but his voice lightened. “And Y/n is exceptional,” 

Her mother hummed, squeezing her hand again. “Plus Y/n always looks at you like you put the stars up in the sky, and she’s been nothing but polite to us,” 

Her father nodded once, and Lindsey took that as his agreement, though he didn’t soften. “An acceptable soulmate,” 

Lindsey felt the knot in her chest loosen, though she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about their assessment. She guessed acceptable and exceptional were the best she could expect from her father. 

“Now,” Her father said, leaning forward in his chair, setting his coffee on the table. “You said you messed up, tell us what happened,” 

She frowned at him, confused by his reaction, and his sudden interest. 

“I,” The words were caught in her throat as she finally met her dad's gaze. “I hurt her because I was afraid, and now I’m not sure that I can fix it,” 

“Afraid?” Her father grumbled, his eyes suddenly hard. “Of what? Y/n has never done anything to make you question her feelings,” 

“Of….” Lindsey took a deep steadying breath, working through his defense of you. Of the strange protectiveness? That had overcome him, while also working through how to phrase her answer. It threw her that they weren’t upset you were her soulmate.  “A lot of things. It doesn’t matter now,” 

Her father hummed, crossing his arms.

It was a gesture she had seen thousands of times before. One he liked to use after he heard both sides of the story when she would fight with her brother. One he used when she told him she was going to France instead of college. 

“Honey, you’re soulmates, but you’re also human,” Her mother hummed. “Give her time to process everything that’s happening, then apologize and let her come to you,” 

There was a beat of silence before her father sat back in his chair. 

“That girl loves you, and you love her too,” He added as if he was telling her that the defense used double pivots in transition. Like it was an undisputed fact. “You’ll figure it out,”

Lindsey swallowed hard. She knew she loved you, but it was unsettling that everyone else did too. That they all seemed to think that you would love her back after everything she had done.

“Y/n could never stay mad at you for long anyway,” Her mother chuckled, patting her hand, a stark contrast to her father's serious face. “Just go on her terms, and I’m sure she’ll be receptive to you,” 

She nodded, more to herself than to them. She could do that. She could wait and do things on your terms. She was sure Kelley and Emily and probably Tobin and Christen wouldn’t settle for anything less. 

A long silence stretched between them, before her father cleared his throat, grabbed his coffee, and leaned back into his chair. “Now that that’s settled, do you know who’s starting in the next game? Y/n got several very good shots off last time,”

“I um,” Lindsey shrugged, scratching the back of her neck, thinking of the photos of you in that stupid hospital bed. “I’m not sure,” 

She didn’t doubt Vlatko would let you play, even injured, but it made the ache in her chest worse to think about. Jill was bad in her own way, but at least she usually stuck to doctor-recommended injury return protocols. 

“Hmm,” Her father hummed, idly sipping his coffee as her mother went back to her tea. “We’ll have to just wait and see then,” 

Lindsey nodded again, thinking more about you than about the game. 

She would have to wait and see if you would be open to her again. To wait and see if she would ever be able to fix the damage she had caused. To wait for you to be ready. 

****

“This isn’t a good idea,” Dawn muttered, carefully wrapping your signature red pre-wrap around the thick white gauze on your hand, and the plastic splint holding your palm in a fixed position. “You should be resting,” 

“The field is the only place I can think clearly. It’s better if I play,” Your shoulders lifted and fell. “Does there have to be so much wrapping? It looks more like a club than a hand,” 

Christen rolled her eyes at the statement. 

She should have expected it with the blase attitude you had dawned since the moment she arrived, but your lack of care for your health was still rather astonishing. She couldn’t exactly blame you though, not after Kelley told her what happened. 

At least the parts that the defender knew. You still wouldn’t talk about what happened in the bathroom. 

“You sliced into the muscle of your palm. You’re lucky you didn’t lose the mobility in your fingers, and now you have convinced your coach to let you play not even 72 hours later,” Christen sighed, rubbing your right shoulder gently. 

“Yes, the gauze has to be this thick, we don’t want any of the stitches to accidentally re-open,” Dawn explained gently. 

She didn’t mention that she was adding extra to try and shield you from prying eyes. To keep the commentary teams and the media from speculating about the still gray lines extending past your elbow. 

You hummed in understanding, blinking away from the women and to the small paper you had found in your locker. 

It wasn’t the first note that had magically appeared, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

It made you feel like you were in high school, passing notes, except you refused to pass back. You didn’t even see the point in reading them. As far as you were concerned, you and Lindsey had nothing to say to each other anyway. 

But still, she kept trying. 

It was weird, and you felt a little like a yo-yo being yanked back and forth. You assumed it was from pity. You didn’t want her pity. 

“Did she send you another one?” Christen asked, her voice going soft. 

You swallowed hard, holding the little blue paper between your fingers, avoiding the loopy pen marks it wore. “Yep,” 

“Do you want me to see what it says?” She pressed carefully. 

You held it out toward the forward in a familiar gesture. She had read all of the notes. “If you want,” 

It was the same response you had given to all the little notes. The same… unbothered indifference. 

She very slowly reached out and plucked the note from your hand, opening it and reading over the words. “Do you want to know what it says?” 

“Nope,” You popped the p, pulling your hand away as Dawn tore off the pre-wrap and pressed it to your arm. “If I wanted to know, I would have read it,” 

“Let me get you a pill and you can go warm up,” Dawn said, pushing herself to her feet. 

“It’s mostly the same as the others,” Christen continued as if you hadn’t said you didn’t care. “She wonders if you’ve read any of the notes,” 

“There have been 10 and you and Tobin have given me the gist of them all,” You muttered, accepting the small, metallic-colored pill from dawn, popping it in your mouth, and swallowing it with a sip of water. 

You just didn’t see the point in reading them. Lindsey never kept her word anyway. 

 “Plus, it’s not like it’ll make this go away,”  You waved your hand over your chest, vaguely gesturing to where you knew the deep bruise sat.

You glanced at Dawn who nodded. “The only known cure to soulmate sickness is physical contact,” 

“So there’s no point,” You shrugged, pushing yourself off the table. “Am I free to go now?” 

“Yes,” Dawn said. “Just take it easy, alright,” 

You paused at the door. “What’s the point, I’m going to die anyway. Why not have fun first,” 

Christen grimaced as the door slammed shut. “I hate it when she jokes like that,”

“I’m not sure it was a joke,” Dawn mumbled, making eye contact with the forward. “The medication will slow it down, but it can’t stop the effects entirely,” 

The apathy. The emptiness in your eyes. The loss of your sunny personality. 

You would lose yourself entirely, and then you would lose your life. 

******

You knew the dream was coming before you fell asleep. You could feel it. 

It felt like a punishment from the universe. A punishment for ignoring Lindsey’s notes. Punishment for letting Kelley, Emily, Christen, and Tobin run interference so you didn’t have to deal with her. A punishment for protecting yourself. 

But it still disoriented you when your eyes flickered open. 

You would never get used to the too-bright colors or the way the light blended into a too-vivid scene that felt real. A scene that made you suddenly feel right. Whole.

A scene you knew was a lie. 

You glanced around the room. A long, open space with little cubbies and nameplates. It was familiar. A locker room like any other. 

You didn’t feel like reading the names to see what part of your past it was from. You just didn’t… care. 

You let out a long breath, shuffling back into the empty cubby and turning sideways. You tucked your knees to your chest, rested your chin on them, and closed your eyes. You were content to wait it out. To pretend.

The bench creaked beside you, but you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have to to know who it was. The warmth that filled your hollow chest was enough. Plus there was only one human on the planet who could crash your dreams. 

Lindsey hesitantly cleared her throat, and you heard her shift beside you. “Good game,” 

You hummed. 

It was a good game. Very good. 

You ended up with a first-half hat trick thanks to a stellar cross from Huerta and an assist from Rose. It helped that Vlatko hadn’t let you and Lindsey on the field at the same time (she came on at the half when you were subbed out). 

You were sure how much of that was his doing and how much was demanded by the team and medical staff. 

You had barely seen Lindsey in general, other than when she was on the bench, and you knew that was done by design. When Emily and Kelley weren’t guarding you, it seemed that one of your teammates (especially Sanchez, Trinity, and Huerta) would suddenly need something from you when Lindsey tried to approach. 

It was weird and blatantly obvious, but you deeply appreciated their efforts. 

Lindsey cleared her throat again, and you felt her shift closer to you. “I-… look, I’m sorry. For everything,” 

You let a beat of silence pass between you, unsure if you were even going to respond. Your eyes slowly dragged open and you met tired blue. They seemed to echo the dull throb that had settled in before the game. The same hollowness that just wouldn’t go away. 

A part of you wondered what everything meant. 

Was she sorry for all of the nights you had shared? All of the intimate moments you had never shared with anyone else? That you would never share with anyone else. 

Or maybe she was just sorry she would never care for you in the way you cared for her. 

“Me too,” You said softly. The words felt heavy, laced with truth and pain and utter defeat. 

Not because of the pain she had put you through, but because she regretted you. 

You were sorry because you weren’t good enough. 

You looked away from her burning gaze, back towards the wood of your little cubby. It felt like she was dissecting you. Like she was looking through you and straight into your thoughts. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lindsey said, her voice deadly serious. “This is all on me,” 

“Not all of it,” You shrugged, lifting your left hand and wiggling your fingers. It was strange because you hadn’t been able to move them for the last week, and you expected the thick gauze to follow you into your dreams. 

That part was all on you, no matter what your friends wanted to believe. 

Lindsey sighed, and you knew she wanted to argue with you, but part of you hoped she wouldn’t. You were too tired to fight. 

“How did it happen?” She asked so softly you almost missed it. 

You blinked, and your eyes flickered back to hers. “What?” 

Lindsey swallowed hard, her throat visibly gulping. “Kelley sent me the picture, but no one will tell me what happened,” 

You frowned. You wanted to say nothing had happened. You wanted to yell and scream at Kelley, even if you knew she meant well. You wanted to admonish Lindsey for not already knowing the reason, even if it wasn’t fair. 

“She shouldn’t have,” 

Lindsey’s hand caught your forearm, sliding down your skin to connect your hands. “Y/n, please,” 

It sent a shiver down your spine and a warmth through your veins that hadn’t been there in god knows how long. 

It chipped away at the ice encasing your heart. 

You blew out a long breath, ripping your eyes from her, leaning your head back so it hit the locker with a low thump, and fixing your eyes on the stupid photoshopped picture Emily had fixed on the roof of your cubby after a bad Portland practice. It was of the three of you, your heads photoshopped onto a picture of the Teenage mutant ninja turtles. 

“A mirror broke,” You said slowly, forcing the words around the sudden lump in your throat. You hadn’t told anyone what happened yet, Christen and Tobin included. “And I got cut. That wasn’t your fault, no matter what Kelley wants to believe,” 

Lindsey made a low sound like she knew that your explanation wasn’t the whole story like she knew you weren’t being honest, 

but she didn’t push. Not like she usually would. 

She sat back on the bench, and squeezed your hand once, twice, three times. 

And it made you feel like you were 17 again, sitting in France holding on for dear life as your world was rocked to its core. It made you feel like you were 22, sitting in this very locker room working through your growing feelings. It made you feel safe and loved in a way that no one else could.

That thought made you sick to your stomach because you knew it wasn’t real. 

The mark on your chest was proof enough of that. 

But you didn’t see the harm in accepting the comfort. In letting her let you just exist. Your eyes slid closed and for the first time in weeks, you felt at peace. 

Who cared if it wasn’t real? At least you weren’t in pain anymore. 

“What about the bruise?” She asked after several long minutes, and you blinked back at her again, noting the way her eyebrows furrowed guiltily. 

Her eyes were fixed on the little Thorns logo sitting just above your heart. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell nonchalantly. “Yeah. That’s kinda on you,” 

“Is it..-“ She paused, shaking her head. “Can I see it?” 

Your nose scrunched. “I’d have to take my shirt off, so no. I don’t even know if it’d be in this stupid dream,” 

It was too… vulnerable. Too exposed for you. Far more unprotected than you were willing to be with Lindsey. 

Plus if the universe wanted her to see it, then you would have appeared in an outfit you couldn’t hide it in, not your old training uniform. 

“You weren’t supposed to see it in the first place,” Yoh muttered, closing your eyes and laying your head back on the locker with a thump. 

You heard Lindsey swallow hard, and you knew she wanted to argue with you. Even if you weren’t quite sure what she could argue. 

But she didn’t. 

Her hand squeezed yours in three slow pulses again. “Alright,” 

You felt the know you didn’t know was in your chest loosen, and your shoulders relaxed as you leaned farther back into the wooden cubby. 

At least you weren’t in pain, and in the quiet locker room, it was easy to let Lindsey’s soft breathing lull you into a near doze. 

It reminded you of all the times you had listened to her breathing when you couldn’t sleep, or when you woke up from a nightmare. All the times it was a sign that you were safe. 

Now you just supposed it was like the beeping of a life support machine. Something to prolong the inevitable. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you got to feel this at ease. 

*****

Camp had ended far less eventfully than it had started, and you were incredibly grateful for that. 

The final morning passed with little fanfare, and you felt more rested than you had in months, and before you knew it Christen and Tobin were guiding you through the terminal towards a plane headed directly to LA. 

You hadn’t seen Lindsey at all, but as you grabbed your headphones from your bag, you saw the little blue Post-it tucked just inside the zipper. 

You gently grabbed the little paper, pulled out your headphones too, and shoved the bag back under your seat. You stared at it, running your fingers over the indent of your name across the folded front in Lindsey’s loopy writing. 

“Are you going to read this one?” Tobin asked you, pretending that she wasn’t watching the way you were fixated on the note. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. You hadn’t decided if you were going to open it yet. “Do you know how it got into my bag?” 

“Nope,” Tobin shook her head once. “I was on door duty, and Kelley and Emily were more worried that you ate,” 

You nodded, your tongue poking past your lips. Christen wouldn’t have made the assist, she made her opinion clear, even after you told her about the latest dream. 

You looked back down at the small note. 

You hadn’t cared about them up to this point. You didn’t want to know what Lindsey had to say. You just wanted her to let you die in peace. You just wanted her to be happy and to not hurt anymore. 

But she wasn’t happy. 

Sitting in the Thorns locker room had also filled you with a strange sense of nostalgia. You missed how simple it was before you recognized your feelings. How easy it was to be around her and to feel safe. 

You missed being her friend, intimacy be damned. 

And no matter how stupid you thought the high school note-passing tactic was, you were suddenly curious if it would change those new feelings. If it would tell you why. 

“Do you want me to read it?” Tobin asked, reaching for the small, blue paper. 

You pulled it away. “No,” 

“Ok,” She agreed easily, settling back into her seat, pretending to not watch you. “Christen put the others in the bottom of your bag if you want to read them too,” 

You hummed at the offhand comment, flipping the little blue note over once more before slowly working it open. 

You cracked a smile at the little sketch of a teenage mutant ninja turtle at the top, just below where it was sealed. It was Leonardo and Rafael with a small pizza slice between them. 

Hey Raf,

I forgot that we used to call each other that until I saw Emily’s drawing in your old locker. I kinda miss the days of being the TMNT 3. I definitely miss you. 

Chris says you don’t read my notes, and I can’t blame you. I just want you to know I choose you. I want you to know I love you. 

You didn’t finish reading it.

You didn’t want to.

“What did she say?” Christen asked you gently from Tobin's other side. 

“Some bullshit about her choosing me,” You shrugged again, crumbling the paper and tossing it towards her. “Was it in all the other ones too, or did you just omit it from the synopses?”

She caught it easily, flattening the paper against her thigh, frowning as she scanned over the page. “I just figured It wasn’t the main message,” 

“And what was?” You grumbled. “That now that everyone knows she fucked up she suddenly wants me?” 

“I think the team is more concerned with you deciding you’d rather die,” Tobin said, carefully grabbing the note and reading it after Christen was done. “But go on,” 

You frowned at the pair, suddenly wondering whose side they were on. 

“I don’t want her to care out of some sense of obligation or guilt,” You grit out the words. “I’m not a consolation prize,” 

“No,” Christen agreed carefully. “You’re not a consolation prize to her,” 

“I think Lindsey has cared for a long time,” Tobin added, catching your hand. “She was just afraid to show it,” 

“Could have fucking fooled me,” You snorted. “She chooses me or whatever but she still hasn’t told her boyfriend that I’m her soulmate,” 

Tobin paused, sending a look over her shoulder to Christen. You frowned. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Tobin blew out a long breath. “Lindsey called me the night you broke your hand. We thought she told you,”

Your eyes widened.

Lindsey called them. Lindsey talked to them. They talked to her. 

“What did she want?” The words forced themselves through your grit teeth, misplaced anger rushing through you and flushing your cheeks. 

“Take a deep breath,” Christen said, her voice as calming as you had ever heard it. The same voice she had used each time your unstable emotions threatened to overtake you. 

They were yet another growing symptom of soulmate sickness. 

“I don’t want to,” You bit back. “Tell me,” 

Tobin held her hands up in defense. “Most of it isn’t my story to tell,” 

You sucked in a deep breath through your nose, blowing it slowly out of your mouth, feeling your anger bleed out with it. “But?”

“Lindsey is trying. She just doesn’t know where to start,” Tobin said very slowly, choosing her words carefully. 

“I will not be her second choice,” You muttered, picking at the gauze still wrapped tightly around your hand. “you’re supposed to be on my side,” 

“We are on your side. The side of you living long enough to go to your third World Cup and win,” Christen said, reaching across Tobin to catch your hand and prevent you from unraveling the bandage. “And we’re not telling you to forgive her,” 

You blew out another breath. “Then what are you telling me?” 

“You don’t have to forgive Lindsey,” Tobin said. “I’m not even saying you have to entertain the idea. All I mean is that you’re tied for life, and when you’re ready, she has a lot of making up to do. When you’re ready, it’s on her to fix it. She knows it, and is willing to do it.”

“Hence the stupid fucking notes?” You asked softly, your eyebrows furrowing. The notes were such a Lindsey thing to do. A way to see how open you were to her without pushing. A way to let you come to her. 

“Hence the notes,” Tobin nodded. “She didn’t know where to start,” 

You closed your eyes tightly, leaning back in your seat. “I wish Kelley hadn’t sent her that fucking picture. Then she still wouldn’t care,”

“Kelley sent it because she is insanely protective,” Christen explained as if it was obvious. “You were hurting and she wanted the person responsible to know,”

“You’re like her little sister,” Tobin added unhelpfully. 

You shook your head. “It’s not Lindsey’s fault I hurt my hand, and I wish everyone would fucking see that,” 

“Then who’s fault was it?” Christen pressed, keeping her voice gentle. 

You let out a breath, counting to 10 in your head, trying to still the sudden rush of thoughts and emotions that came from the simple question. 

The truth was that punching that mirror was all on you. It was your inability to regulate your emotions. Your inability to accept the truth. Your inability to be enough. 

You were frustrated that Kelley had shown Lindsey the aftermath, and even more annoyed that it suddenly changed the way Lindsey felt. 

She shouldn’t be guilted into loving you. 

You weren’t worthy of it, no matter how much admitting it made the place on your chest throb. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You said, your voice rough with the unspoken tsunami of emotions in your chest, your uninjured hand rubbing idly at the spot right above your heart. 

“You never want to talk about it,” Christen said, her voice edging in desperation. 

You sighed, peeling your eyes open to meet her green. “Lindsey deserves to be happy,”

The defeat in your voice shocked even you as it reached your ears, and the pure honesty made the sludge in your stomach rock. 

Tobin used a hand to catch your chin, forcing you to look at her. “And what about you? Don’t you deserve happiness too?” 

You shook your head, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I don’t matter,” 

You slipped your headphones over your ears before they could push the issue before they could make you unpack that feeling, and stared out the window. 

“I’ve never mattered,”

****

You bit the inside of your lip, glaring at the colorful painting that sat on your therapist's wall, picking at the edge of the gauze on your hand. 

There was less of it now, making it look more like a hand than a club, but the stitches were still sensitive enough that you couldn’t go without it. 

“I don’t understand your question,” You muttered, your eyes tracing across the red sunset in the painting, refusing to look at her. 

It was a bad habit you had picked up in the three weeks you had been seeing her. It was easier to talk to her when you didn’t have to look at her, not that you had done much talking anyway. 

“You’ve told me a lot of wonderful things about Lindsey. You’ve told me about the incredible intimacy that the two of you share. I wanted to know who initiated it,” Clarke said, and you could feel her watching you. 

You frowned. “Like who kissed who first?” 

It felt like one of those stupid media fan questions. Like the ones you had gotten on Twitter after the game, demanding to know how you hurt your hand and asking for your opinion on the fan theories the whole ordeal had created. 

It wasn’t like the normal probing questions Clarke asked you. 

She hummed, shrugging her shoulders. “Is that when you think the emotional intimacy between you started?” 

You bit your lip at the question. You and Lindsey had been linked far before you kissed. 

“No,” You said, dragging your eyes to meet hers. “That was pretty instant,” 

You remembered being taken with Lindsey from the first moment you saw her, even though she had ripped all of the laces out of her shoe on a stupid escalator. It was mid-morning when her and her mother arrived at the apartment, and you were so anxious you couldn’t get words past your lips. 

You had waved at her instead, and you were pretty sure she thought you were entirely unable to talk for the first two weeks you had known her. 

“Tell me about it?” Clarke asked very gently, noting the faraway look in your eyes in her notes. 

It was the look you always got when you talked about Lindsey, even if all you told her in your discussions were good things. 

“I…” You paused, biting your lips, trying to think of the moment that you and Lindsey became inseparable. It had to have been after your first hard practice. “It was like two weeks after she moved into the apartment. We were watching Disney movies in French to try and learn the language,” 

It was a semi-truth. You had performed horribly on the field and wanted a distraction. All that was on was the lion king and it was extra money to watch it in English. She walked into your soft sniffles and sat down next to you out of obligation. 

Lindsey felt bad for you. She always pitied you. It was why she sat next to you on the couch that night. 

“And it progressed from there?” Clarke pressed, leaning forward. 

“Yeah, we just kinda clicked,” You hummed, scratching the back of your neck with your good hand. It was more than that. That night, she made you smile and you made her laugh. It was the spark of your entire relationship, and it only got stronger when the pressure from the coaches increased. “And then with all the stuff that was happening…”

Clarke nodded understandingly and it made you feel like she could hear the thoughts racing through your head. “Trauma has a way of bonding people,” 

“Yeah,” You nodded, scratching the gray lines on your neck a little harder. When things continued to get worse, you and Lindsey found comfort in each other. She was the only one who made you feel safe. “We started sharing a bed because I was having nightmares. It was comforting to have her there,” 

“She made you feel safe,” Clarke supplied easily. 

“Always,” You agreed. It didn’t matter what was happening at practice, when you were together, you knew it would all be ok. “It was like she was shielding me from all the bullshit. Our bed was our safe place,” 

“Is that why you kissed for the first time?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

The truth was that the first kiss you shared was… blurry. 

“No,” You said slowly. “That didn’t happen for a while,” 

Clarke hummed. “Who initiated?”

“I…-,” Your eyebrows furrowed. You remembered laying on too-fancy sheets, sharing a bowl of unsalted popcorn. You remembered the sunset peeking through the window and soft laughter. You remember leaning against her strong frame, and her hand running through your hair. You remembered the taste of her lips and the way you moved together, but you didn’t know who leaned in first. “I can’t remember actually,” 

Admitting it made your heart race, and your chest ache. How could you not remember such a fundamental moment in your relationship? 

“That’s ok,” Charlie said, reaching out and placing a steadying hand on your knee. “How about we talk about something else for a bit,” 

You swallowed hard, dropping the hand on your neck and going back to picking at the edge of the gauze on your hand. “Ok,” 

“Let’s talk about the night you broke the mirror,” 

Your back instantly straightened. “What about that night?” 

It came out more harshly than you intended. Colder. Guarded. 

You hadn’t even told Tobin and Christen about that night yet, despite their prying. 

“Well, we haven’t discussed it yet,” Clarke said carefully. “And it’s the reason you have to see me 3 times a week for the next month,”

“What do you want to know?” You sighed, leaning forward. 

Being honest was the only way to not have to see Clarke. The only way for her to sign the papers that would get rid of the Minute limit that had been placed on you. 

“How did the mirror break?” Clarke asked you softly. 

You bit your lip, picking the edge of the gauze with a little more vigor. “I punched it,” 

It pained you to say the words out loud and had blood rushing to your cheeks. 

“With the intention of hurting yourself?” 

You blinked up at Clarke’s question. The same question they asked you in the hospital. 

“No,” You said sternly, shaking your head once. “I just… needed the sound in my head to stop,” 

“What kind of sound?”

You squinted at the probing question. The answer was just so difficult to put into words. It was difficult for you to even wrap your head around it. 

There was so much noise constantly surrounding you, and it had all been too much. You wanted Lindsey to stop, and your family to stop. You just wanted everything to… stop. 

“My thoughts,” You mumbled, catching the edge of the gauze and pulling just a bit too tight.  “I was spiraling and I couldn’t get them to stop. I just wanted it to be quiet so I could breathe,” 

Clarke nodded, jotting more notes down in her little book. “You were having a panic attack,” 

“I guess,” Your shoulders lifted and fell and your eyes returned to the stupid painting in her corner. You weren’t sure if it was panic, or if it was an outward manifestation of your disgust in yourself. 

“Alright,” She said finally as the little timer on the table went off. “I have some homework for you that I think will be helpful before our next session…-“

You tuned out her words, focusing instead on the place in the picture where the orange sunset met the deep black of the sea. Where they swirled together. 

You wished you were there instead of here. 

******

You knew the dream was coming. The universe had been kind, allowing you to ignore your soulmate for 5 weeks. You knew it couldn’t last forever, especially after Clarke’s homework. 

The only way for you to complete it was to talk to her, and you fucking refused to respond via note. 

You sighed, pressing your face further into the soft down pillow beneath your head, your hand closing around too-fancy sheets. They were cool to the touch, something that never happened in real life. 

You felt eyes on the side of your face, tracing the little scar that existed by your eye (from an unfortunate encounter with a Spanish defender when you were 17), down your cheek, and sweeping across your nose to your lips. 

It was familiar. A scene that had played hundreds of times. 

But it no longer filled you with the warm fuzzy feeling it used to, even if the ache in your chest dulled. 

“It’s rude to stare,” You mumbled, reluctantly forcing your eyes open to look at Lindsey. 

Lindsey smirked, her dimples showing. “Some people consider it rude not to stare at a masterpiece,”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself to sit up. “That line was played out the first time you used it,”

It was familiar in a way that had butterflies flying in your stomach, and unease settling firmly on your chest. 

Linsey chuckled. “It still made you blush back then” 

You shrugged, running your hand through your hair, noting that you weren’t wearing the brace and gauze that had become part of your wardrobe. You wiggled your fingers experimentally in front of your face, and you could feel Lindsey watching them too. 

“This is where it started,” She said softly, and your eyes snapped toward her. 

“Kinda,”

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

You shrugged, dragging your eyes back toward your hand. It was easier to admit things when you didn’t have to look at the person you were talking to. It was easier to follow Clarke’s advice and be honest. 

“An equipment closet in Paris is where this phase of our relationship kicked off,” 

You said the words softly, but they felt heavy. It was like a rock splashing into a pond, leaving only ripples in its wake. 

You expected Lindsey to argue with you. To say that the night of the World Cup wasn’t where this whole thing started. That this room was the place where you shared most of your firsts. Your first feelings, your first kiss, your first…time. 

But in that closet, she handed you your first heartbreak, and you weren’t sure you had ever even begun to piece back the little shards of your heart. 

She swallowed hard. “I wish that night ended differently. I wish I responded differently. I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am. I should have held you tighter, instead of pushing you away,” 

It surprised you that she didn’t try to deny it, and you tried to smother the warm feeling that started to bloom in your chest. All you ever wanted was for her to acknowledge what the two of you shared. 

“You won’t even acknowledge we’re soulmates,” You countered, none of the fire you expected in your voice. You just sounded… defeated. 

Lindsey frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. “They didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” You asked. 

It irritated you that everyone knew things that you didn’t know. It irritated you that they were talking about you without you there. 

“I broke up with Ty. I told him and my parents,” 

“Oh,” You breathed out. 

“I’m not telling you to get you to forgive me. I just thought you should know,” She said too quickly as if she was afraid she would break the tenuous truce between you. 

Silence stretched between you as you digested the information. Digesting that Tobin and Christen already knew. Digesting that Lindsey really had chosen you. 

You could hear Clarke’s voice in your head, reminding you of the homework she had assigned. The homework to talk about your feelings. 

“You know, it used to make me feel special that you didn’t want other people to know,” You said slowly, and you could feel Lindsey’s eyes on your face. “Then it just made me feel dirty,” 

She reached out and caught your arm. “I’m sorry,” 

You felt it in your bones. Her honesty, her… desperation for you to believe her. 

You did believe her, but you didn’t want her apology. “You keep saying that,” 

“You deserve so much more than what I gave you,” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, her anguish cracking your heart. 

You shook your head. “I don’t need your pity, Lindsey. You don’t have to do this because you’re guilty,”

She frowned. “Guilty?”

You chuckled. “That’s what our relationship is based on isn’t it?”

She only told them because she had to. Because she felt bad. Because Kelley had exposed Lindsey’s impact on you. 

“Absolutely not!” Lindsey exclaimed, wiggling your arm, trying to get you to look at her. 

“It is though,” You pressed out, despite the bitter taste of the words on your tongue. “You never would have been my friend if you didn’t walk in on me crying,” 

She never would have been your friend if she didn’t feel some… obligation to not leave you alone that first night. She felt sorry for you because you were incapable of making friends with anyone else on the French squad. 

“Y/n,” She said more softly, shifting over and ducking so you had to look at her. “I had been working up the courage to talk to you since I moved in,”

Her eyes burned into yours, and her honesty sent shivers down your spine. 

“It was never because you felt bad for me?” You asked again. 

“No,” 

You nodded, your mind flying to try and catch up with the admission. With the knowledge that maybe she had wanted you as long as you wanted her. Maybe this wasn’t just her response to pity and guilt. 

Maybe she could help you with your therapy homework after all. 

“Did you kiss me first, or did I kiss you?” You suddenly asked the question.

The tension between you dissipated instantly, and Lindsey’s laugh was like bells, drawing a smile to your features. 

Lindsey’s head tilted. “You can’t remember?” 

You shook your head once. “No, and I hate that I can’t,”

A small smile played across her lips. “I guess it kinda makes sense. It’s a trick question,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind thought back to that night. 

You could practically feel the indent of her hand as it rested on your waist, holding you steady. You could feel her soft breaths puffing onto your lips. You could smell her perfume, mixed with something just so… Lindsey. 

You remembered your eyes meeting hers, and how the blue was just a sliver around her dilated pupils. You remembered them getting closer like you were magnets drawn together. 

“We leaned in at the same time,” 

“We did,” She agreed, watching as you leaned back into the pillows. “So technically it was mutual,” 

You hummed, running a hand through your hair, accidentally flashing the dark mark that had crept back up your shoulder as your shirt shifted. You felt her eyes boring into it immediately. 

“Can I,” She paused, clearing her throat. “Can I see the mark?” 

You tensed immediately, and you pulled away from her, your shoulders curling in on themselves. “You’ve already seen it,” 

She sat before you frozen, her hand hanging in the air like she was still holding on to you and flipped it over, and held it out to you. “Y/n, please?” 

You stared at it with untrusting eyes. 

Talking to Lindsey was one thing, but showing her the damage she caused was another. 

But then again, didn’t she have the right to see it? That was Kelley’s defense after all. 

You let out a long breath, sending her a very stiff nod. It took you another second to gather the courage to pull your shirt over your head. 

Lindsey gasped as soon as the dark mark on your chest and the spider web of veins that sprouted from it was on display, but she didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t even roam the newly visible skin. 

She was doing this at your pace, you realized. 

“You can look,” You said, your voice shaking slightly. 

Lindsey swallowed and very slowly brought her eyes up to gaze at your chest. Her eyes felt heavy, but they didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t feel objectified, but you never had with her. 

“Can I,” She cleared her throat. “Can I touch it? They say that helps?”

You blinked at her, once, twice, before you slowly nodded. 

It was something Clarke had suggested. She said physical contact in dreams was a good way to start, especially if you weren’t averse to Lindsey’s touch. 

The problem you saw was that you were the complete opposite. You were addicted to the way her skin felt on yours and the instant sense of safety it brought you. 

Lindsey wasn’t safe anymore, and you needed to remember that. 

She moved slowly as she brought her hand to your chest like you were a frightened animal she was afraid would snap at her. 

You sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers gently landed on the deep purple skin right above your heart, and tingles sprouted from the place the two of you met. 

It made your chest burn, like a flame blasting away at the ice that had coated your veins. 

It was better than a hug, and you could practically feel your worry and pain being sucked from your chest. 

“Does it-…” You cleared your throat, your cheeks turning red. “Do you feel it too?” 

Lindsey frowned, and you rolled your eyes. “Do you feel the ache too?” 

“I do,” She bit her lip and nodded. She let her fingers wander up your chest, tracing the thick black line that extended to your neck.“But I doubt it’s anywhere close to what you feel. I never meant to cause you pain,” 

You hissed when she pressed into the line slightly too hard, in the place Kelley always did. “Then why did you?”

She paused, slowly dragging her hand down across your shoulder and down your arm, following the web of lines. 

“I was afraid, and that made me selfish,” 

“Of?” You pressed, catching her hand. 

Her eyes blinked up to meet yours, and you saw something you didn’t often see. Insecurity. “My family, the media, myself,” 

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You could understand fear. She used Ty and the word “friendship” as a shield. You had just been an inadvertent casualty. 

That didn’t change overnight. It also didn’t make it ok, but it was nice to understand. 

“We would have gotten through it,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Together,” 

You would have done anything for her. You still would. You were willing to die so she could be happy after all. 

“We’ll get through this too,” She squeezed your hand three times slowly. “I’ll do whatever I have to make it up to you,” 

“No more notes. We’re not in high school,” You cracked a small smile leaning back into the pillows. “Just text me instead,” 

“I can do that,” She agreed, squeezing your hand again, and you believed her. 

*****

You knew physical contact was supposed to help with the symptoms of soulmate sickness, you just never really thought about how much it would help. 

You felt like you were walking on air. Like the weight in your chest had eased, even slightly. Even smiling didn’t take as much effort as it had for the last several weeks. 

Maybe that was why Freya had let you help the goalies practice (fucking finally), and even join in on the last few minutes of the scrimmage that ended practice. 

You just felt… good. (But you were loath to admit it was mostly because of the dream you shared with Lindsey). 

You expected that was what Freya wanted to talk to you about as practice came to a close. You hadn’t expected her to instead lay out a plan that put your physical and mental health at the forefront of the team. You hadn’t expected her to care. 

Shock followed you to the locker room, as you sat down heavily in front of your locker. 

“You good?” Tobin asked, settling beside you as you untied your cleats. It was so much easier now that you didn’t have to have the plastic splint under the gauze still wrapping your hand. 

“Hmm,” You hummed, pulling out your shin guards and sticking them inside your cleats. 

Tobin waited for you to continue, sharing a look with Christen and raising her eyebrow when you did not. 

“What was that about?” Christen prompted gently. 

You blew out a breath, “Freya is excusing me from the game. I have to be in Portland but I don’t have to go to the stadium,” 

Christen settled down on your other side. “And how do you feel about that?” 

You shrugged. “I’m not cleared to play, so I’m not surprised,” 

You could feel them watching you, but you stared at your cleats. 

“That doesn’t answer the question kid,” Tobin pressed, her hand leaning heavily on your shoulder, her thumb barely brushing the little scar that had replaced part of the black line that used to extend up your neck. “How do you feel?”

“It’s not good to bottle it all up,” Christen added gently. 

Your good hand clenched on your thigh. You didn’t want to talk about how you felt. It would make you think about Lindsey and how irritating it was that her just touching you in a dream was enough to have the dark marks retreating. It was irritating that she was texting you now like things were normal. 

“I don’t bottle,” You grit out. 

“You do though,” Tobin said, squeezing your shoulder. 

“You hide all your feelings away to not distract us, or to protect us and it gets so bad that you finally explode,” Christen added, much more softly, carefully uncurling your fingers from your leg and pressing your hand flat. “Look where it’s gotten you,” 

“This wasn’t from bottling,” You muttered, finally dragging your eyes up to meet theirs. “I just wanted everything to stop,” 

“And punching a mirror and a wall over and over again helped with that?” Tobin quirked an eyebrow up at you. 

You swallowed hard and looked away. “Sometimes physical pain is better, more tangible than what’s going on in my head. But this is different,” 

“You don’t know what you want to do?” Tobin asked. 

You shook your head once, biting your lip. “No,” 

“You’ll probably get to hang out in one of the boxes if you go,” Christen reasoned, weaving your fingers together, her other hand rubbing smooth circles into your back. You leaned into the familiar comfort, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“Mark will probably have Lindsey on the field for the whole game,” You agreed, suddenly finding your socks interesting. “And she’s already texting me about coffee and stuff,” 

Christen and Tobin shared another long look behind your back. 

“How do you feel about that?” Christen asked you gently, and you wanted to roll your eyes at the repeated question. She was so much like Clarke in that way. 

You shrugged again. “It’s just weird,” 

“What? Being back in the friend zone? Or dancing the line between the two again?” Tobin snorted, and you sent her a sideways glance. 

“Her being nice to me,” you grumbled, pulling on your sweats and throwing your training gear into your bag. “I’m not sure if she’s being honest or not,” 

“And you’re not sure if you want to find out?” Christen finished your thought for you as if she was reading your mind, ignoring Tobin. 

You nodded. “It’s different in dreams, and I’m not ready to do it in real life yet,” 

Frankly, you were just happy that the paper notes had stopped.

But the rest was more… complicated. 

Everything in the dreams felt real. It felt right. You felt safe. But you knew you weren’t. 

You were just waiting for her to turn on you again. Or for her to suggest you go back to the way things were before. You didn’t want to be a dirty little secret again. 

So far, you had taken several small steps, each one talked out in detail with Clarke. 

You weren’t ready to see Lindsey in person. Or to be back in Portland. Your soul was still healing, but unlike your hands, the thick stitches you had used to pull yourself back together weren’t as healed. 

But you didn’t really have a choice in one. 

“Being back in Portland will be a lot,” Tobin said, and you blinked at the sheer understanding you heard there. 

“I know,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair. “I think being inside providence park will be too overwhelming,” 

“So you’re just going to hang out at the hotel?”  Christen asked, her eyebrows furrowed. 

Neither she nor Tobin liked the idea of you being alone. Not after everything that had happened. Especially when you would be in a city that meant so much to the two of you. 

Your shoulder lifted and fell for a third time. “Yeah, probably,” 

Bailey would most likely set up a PT appointment for you or something, and then you would take notes on the game. You would avoid windows and reminders of where you were, and you would take solace in the genericness of the hotel. You would pretend you were in some other City somewhere.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m not going to mention it to Lindsey yet…”

A part of you didn’t want to give her a chance to talk you into it, and a part of you wanted to throw her slightly off-kilter to see how she would respond. To see if she would reject you.

Christen and Tobin shared another look.

“Whatever you want to do kid,” Tobin agreed, though you could tell she wasn’t entirely sold on your plan, and Christen squeezed your hand. 

You needed to take little steps. And that’s exactly what you would do. 

******

Your nose scrunched as you came into consciousness. 

You dragged your eyes open, immediately noting the clay-colored rocks across from you, and that you were leaning against a boulder the size of a car. You glanced around, seeing the tips of mountains beyond the slight narrowing of the trail, and you assumed a lookout lay beyond the gorge you had woken up in. 

You let out a long sigh, pressing back into the smooth stone. It wasn’t warm, despite the sun on your face, and you wondered if that was a product of the fan on the airplane blowing on your face. You wondered if it was enough to create the artificial breeze dancing through your hair and across your cheeks. 

It was strange that you and Lindsey always met in dreams while you were flying. 

You took another deep breath, before pushing yourself to your feet. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as hiking boots you didn’t own crunched against the trail, and your hand trailed against smooth, cool stones uninhibited by the bandage that had been a mainstay in your wardrobe since the incident nearly 6 weeks ago. 

This had to be Lindsey’s dream. 

You shook your head and slowly made your way through the crevice. You had to turn sideways to make it through the almost too-small crack in the rock to get to the open space just beyond. 

The sight that met you was enough to take your breath away. 

The gorge opened into a small clearing that ended in a cliff. 

Mountains stretched out past the little cliff’s edge, nearly disappearing in the too-blue sky. You could see the ocean just beyond the farthest mountain peak, and if you squinted, you were sure you could spot a boat. 

And there, seated on the edge of the cliff was Lindsey. She was the most beautiful sight of all. 

Blind hair blowing slightly in the wind, her small tank top showing off her strong arms. 

It was painful how gorgeous she was. 

But Clarke said it was good to let yourself feel those feelings. That it was good for you to recognize and acknowledge your attraction to her, even if it made you feel conflicted. 

You shook your head, and very slowly made your way towards her. 

“So this is what you’re always talking about huh?” You asked, settling down beside her, your legs hanging over the edge. 

You felt her shift next to you, but you didn’t turn away from the view. 

“Makes it worth it, right?” She countered, and you could hear the roughness in her voice, but you could also feel her smirk. 

You hated hiking and refused to go on almost all of her outings (the sunrise hike in Hawaii didn’t count, especially with the kiss you had received in the early morning sun), but she always told you that the effort was with it because of the view you got to see. You still weren’t convinced. 

Just like you weren’t convinced that all the work with Lindsey would turn out in the end. But Tobin has once felt the same way about Christen, and they turned out ok. 

You shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’d have to know how many miles away the car is first,”

 “I think it was like 4 and a half miles?” She scratched the back of her neck, and you felt her eyes on your face. 

“Hmm,” You hummed, cracking a smile. “Way too many for me,” 

“You run like 8 in a game and more during practice,” Lindsey chuckled, nudging your shoulder gently. 

“But that’s different,” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but chuckle with her. “It’s a goal-directed activity,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you, her dimples showing, but she didn’t argue with you. 

She scooted closer to you and in another world you would have laid your head on her shoulder, but you didn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to get too comfortable. 

“Are you on the flight?” Lindsey asked you, breaking the short silence that settled between you. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing. You knew that the flight was early, but you hadn't expected her to be asleep. Not when Mark was obsessed with morning practices. “Doesn’t your practice start soon?” 

“I have no clue,” She muttered, rubbing the back of her neck again. “But we can grab coffee after it ends? Your flight should get to Portland and you should have time to get unpacked and stuff,” 

“You probably want to go to Dutch Bros,” You said teasingly. 

“No,” She said instantly, smirking. “Grounded NW has grown on me,” 

Your eyes widened at the name of your favorite coffee shop near the stadium. “You said you hated them,” 

“It’s grown on me,” She shrugged, and you swore you saw a small blush crawling up her cheeks. “And it reminds me of you,”

You felt heat bleed into your cheeks. “You said you didn’t like their oat milk,”

“No. I didn’t like the barista flirting with you,” Lindsey explained, catching your hand. “Tyler doesn’t work there anymore,” 

You frowned. You remembered the tall boy and his twitchy nature. You remembered his asking too many questions as he took your order. You didn’t remember flirting though… then again you had been with Lindsey. You rarely paid attention to other things when she was with you. 

The last time you had been there, he wanted to know all about your upcoming game. Lindsey hadn’t liked that. She practically dragged you out of the small shop after he got a little too close when he passed you your drink. 

“You were jealous?” You asked. 

She bit her lip. “Of course I was jealous. People hit on you all the time, and you weren’t mine.” 

“That wasn’t my fault,” You countered immediately, but she was already nodding. 

“No, it was mine,” Lindsey agreed. “But that didn’t make it easier,” 

It was nice to know that she shared the feelings you did. That she had wanted you. 

At least it made sense why she hated your favorite coffee shop now. 

“Is that why you ordered the most complicated drink I’ve ever heard?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

It was strange how she always ordered some crazy iced coffee thing when you went there with her instead of her normal oat milk late. 

“Yeah,” She said sheepishly, the red in her cheeks traveling up towards her ears. “It was Emily’s idea really, but it kept him busy any time we went there,” 

You snorted. “I thought that was why he was always glaring at you,” 

“You get stuck in your head,” Lindsey shrugged again. 

You shrugged too, settling into silence. It was a true statement after all. You spent a good portion of your life trapped in your head, oblivious to the world around you. 

“So coffee after practice?” She asked suddenly.  

You nodded, looking away. You wouldn’t outright lie, but you wouldn’t be completely honest either. 

“Cool,” She smiled widely at you, and you noticed the edges of the cliff turning slightly blurry.  “See you in Portland,” 

“Yeah,” You said as she faded before you and the dream came to a close.

*****

Lindsey was very confused.

She thought that you were making progress. The two of you were cordial in dreams, and it felt like it used to feel when she was with you. You were willingly texting with her. You weren’t avoiding her anymore. 

It was easy to be with you. And the two of you were working your way towards being friends again. 

At least she thought that. 

But now she wasn’t sure. Not with you not even being on the roster for practice, much less the game. 

“Freya excused her,” Tobin shrugged, trying to push past Lindsey towards the field. 

It was like a pin popping the balloon in her chest. The little pocket of happiness she had been operating in was gone in an instant. 

You had just seen her. Why didn’t you tell her? Why did you agree to coffee if you never intended on going? 

Lindsey caught her arm. “But she’s ok? She’s not hurt?”

“Yeah,” Tobin said dismissively, trying to pull her arm out of Lindsey’s grip. “She’s not cleared for the game and is bored of being the goalie’s kicker,” 

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed. Players who couldn’t play usually didn’t travel with the team. “But she said she was on the plane?” 

“She’s doing PT at the hotel,” Christen cut in, appearing behind Tobin’s shoulder. Lindsey noted the sudden stiffness in the midfielder turned forwards form and the worry in Christen’s eyes. 

And suddenly Lindsey understood. They didn’t want to leave you alone. They didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do something stupid. 

“Maybe we should get out of the tunnel,” Christen said, gesturing toward the now-empty LA locker room. Lindsey nodded and allowed them to guide her into the room and towards the bench. 

She dutifully sat down and began wringing her hands together. “She didn’t want to see me, right?”

She couldn’t help the hurt that colored her tone. She didn’t expect you to outright lie to her. 

“Not exactly,” Christen said as the door closed behind them. 

“She isn’t cleared to play,” Tobin explained, settling down beside her.  “Even if the dreams are helping the marks on her chest,” 

“I didn’t know she wasn’t cleared. She didn’t tell me it was that bad,” Lindsey grumbled, looking away from the pair, and the eyes starting to watch them now that they were blocking the door to the locker room. 

Christen’s hand was gentle against her shoulder, and her words were even softer. “Lindsey, when has she ever?”

The midfielder blew out a long breath. 

Christen was right. You were more apt to suffer in silence than burden one of them. But you told her that you were in pain. You showed her and she still ignored it. She ignored every warning sign and stomped over you like you didn’t matter. 

And suddenly, the strange ending to your shared dream made sense. As did the way you talked around going to coffee with her in your texts. 

You were trying to protect yourself from getting hurt by her recklessness again.

She swallowed hard, looking away from Christen. “But the mark on her chest has been better?”

She needed to know that she was at least helping in some way to repair the damage she had caused. 

“It’s fading slowly,” Tobin said, leaning a warm, grounding hand on her back. “She's irritated because the med staff won’t clear her until the stitches come out,”

“And Clarke won’t clear her until she talks about her emotions,” Christen added, her voice even. 

“So seeing me was too much?” Lindsey said, more pained than she intended, running a hand through her hair. “But we’ve been fine in the dreams,”

Christen settled beside her, and gently took her hand. “The two of you were ok in a dream before, and then she got hurt again,”

“Plus she literally plans out what to say to you in those dreams,” Tobin snorted, shaking her head. “It's most of what she and her therapist talk about,”

“So real life was too? What, real?” Lindsey muttered bitterly. 

Tobin sighed, squeezing her shoulder again.  “It brings up too many emotions and being here is already hard for her,”

“But we were finally interacting like we did before,” Lindsey ran another hand through her hair, dragging it down her face. “Things were finally back to the way they were before,”

Christen’s eyes tightened like she was choosing her next words carefully. “Have you considered that going back to the way things were before might be slightly overwhelming for her?”

Lindsey let the words sink in, but she didn’t understand them. 

“Why? All I did was ask her for coffee. It was a friendly date,”

She felt more than she saw Christen and Tobin share a long look. 

“You didn’t call it a date,” Christen said softly, and Lindsey felt her shoulders sink. “And the two of you were never just friends,”

Of course that was the crux of the issue. You told her it would be. 

You didn’t want to be a dirty secret. You wanted her to acknowledge what was between you, and not just in the dreams. 

But you weren’t more than friends. Yet. 

“We were friends who occasionally slept together,”  

The words felt clinical on her tongue. 

“Psh occasionally,” Tobin snorted, ignoring Christen’s glare. 

“A relationship is about more than sex Lindsey,” The striker said sharply, leaving no room for argument. “You two have been emotionally intimate for a very long time. You were intimate even before you started sleeping together,” 

“We weren’t,” Lindsey protested, but Tobin squeezed her shoulder, stopping her before she could deny you yet again. 

“You were,” The midfielder turned striker said softly, “The only reason I could move into the apartment in France was because you two had been sharing a bed for months,” 

Lindsey groaned. “We weren’t sleeping together yet though,” 

“No,” Christen agreed. “But emotionally, you were far closer than friends are. You were basically dating without a label. You went to restaurants and places alone just so you could spend time together. You held each other during sleep and cuddled every chance you got. You washed each other's hair, and You didn’t keep any secrets. The list goes on,” 

“It felt like your entire world was falling apart when she left, right?” Tobin added, watching as recognition flashed through her blue eyes. “That feeling doesn’t come from just being friends. Each time you deny that, you deny her,”

It felt like a knife in Lindsey’s chest, slowly deflating her. 

The two of you had done all of those things. You moved with and around each other like you were one person. Like you belonged. And when the elevator door shut on your face, she had never felt so much pain in her entire life. It was like cracks were rippling through her entire being. She didn’t know how to be without you. How to cope. 

And it solidified how much she did not know how to fix this. It was a minefield of hurt she didn’t know how to navigate. 

“I know that,” Lindsey muttered, running a frustrated hand through her hair.  “That’s not what I mean,”

“But that’s what Y/n hears. It’s what she’s always heard,” Christen said, her words heavy. A sense of finality in her tone. 

It made Lindsey’s chest ache because you had told her that too. She knew you felt dirty. Used. Dispensable to her, even if you weren’t. 

“I know,” She murmured, dragging her hand from her hair and down her face. “I just…-“

She paused, digging her palm into her eye, and Tobin and Christen waited for her to get her thought out. 

“How am I supposed to fix it if she won’t even come see me,”

The, in reality, was implied.

Christen sighed, reaching out to take Lindsey’s hand and carefully pull it from her face. The midfielder met her eyes with burning blue. “We know she hated the notes, but maybe a coffee delivery will be different,”

“And a “date of sorts,” Tobin added, her lips pulling into a half smile. “Facetime has a screen share feature so you can both watch the game,” 

Lindsey nodded seriously, her face morphing into the one it did when she was watching film. Focused and intent. You didn’t want to see her in person, but a Facetime date would mean that she technically wasn’t. 

“I can handle that,” Lindsey hummed, pushing herself to her feet, motivated now that she had a solid plan. 

“Hey Linds,” 

“Yeah?” She asked, pausing by the door and turning to look at them. 

“If you hurt her again, we won’t stop Kelley this time,” Christen said seriously.

“I know,” She nodded. “Sonnett said the same thing. I’m not going to hurt her,” 

******

It was decidedly strange being left alone. 

You had been surrounded by people since the incident, whether it was Tobin and Christen or your new teammates doing their best to be there for you (even if they had no clue what was going on). 

You understood it, and deeply appreciated their efforts to protect you (even from yourself), but as you sat on your hotel room bed, adamantly not looking out the window at the view, you realized how much you had missed solitude.

It was something you talked about with Clarke during the team's morning walk-through. 

It felt like the first time in a long time that you had space to just think. To process what it felt like to be back in a city that meant so very much to you. 

The hotel room was generic enough that you could pretend you were in a different place, even if that didn’t follow Clarke’s advice. Even if you weren’t sure you wanted to pretend anymore. 

You understood that avoiding Lindsey and Portland wouldn’t fix anything. 

But you were afraid. 

Lindsey had always made logic go out the window. She made you feel things in your chest and your stomach that made your brain want to believe her. It made you want to set aside all of the warning bells in your brain.

At least in the dreams, you knew that none of it was real. 

It didn’t matter if you trusted her in the dreams, because you knew you couldn’t when you opened your eyes. 

The only way for her to earn that trust back was through actions, but you weren’t ready for that. Even if you were… 

It didn’t change anything.

You blew out a long breath, settling back on the bed and flicking through the channels on the television to find the one showing the game. 

Freya’s only contingency for sitting out was that you watched how everyone performed. You could do that. You were planning on doing it anyway. 

You hummed as the LA Lineup flashed onto the screen, excited to see both Christen and Tobin starting and interested that they would have Charley up top with them. You wondered if Christen or her would take the 9 spot, or if they would swap out. 

It would be a tough task for any of the back line to take them on, and the midfield would be a major factor. 

You were also curious about what midfield Portland would put up to try and slow them down. Of course, Lindsey would be starting, or so you thought. Your easy smile flipped on itself when you saw that Lindsey was not in the starting 11. She wasn’t even on the roster. 

The commentators were steering clear of mentioning it beyond that you were out with an injury and Lindsey’s absence was excused for personal reasons.

You didn’t get a chance to ponder what the fuck personal reasons were before there was a soft knock at your door. 

You stared at the door for a long minute, flipping between the roster and it several times. 

It would be an entirely Lindsey thing to do to show up at your door, despite your efforts to avoid her. It was an entirely Lindsey thing to be stubborn enough not to give up, despite how much you wanted her to. 

You let out a long sigh and pushed yourself to your feet. You paused when you reached the door, your hand on the shiny handle, steeling yourself to come face-to-face with her. 

You cracked the door open, peeking out, expecting to see her standing there.

Except she wasn’t. 

All that was there was a to-go coffee cup with a sticky note attached to the front. 

“What the fuck?” You mumbled, pulling the door open wide enough so you could pick it up, before retreating into your room. 

You plucked the little orange note off the front, squinting at the loopy writing. 

I know you hated the notes, but I wanted to respect your space. 

FaceTime coffee date?

You couldn’t help but chuckle at it, both irritated and endeared at the same time. 

It was thoughtful and reminded you of a Lindsey you knew before the World Cup. 

You sat back on the bed, taking a hesitant sip of the drink she had gotten you and sticking the sticky beside you on the nightstand. 

It was your favorite drink. 

You weren’t sure why you expected anything less. 

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and flipped to Lindsey's contact, pausing for just a second, stealing your resolve yet again before pressing it. 

It only rang twice before Lindsey’s face appeared on your screen. 

“Hey,” She smiled brilliantly at you, but you still saw the hint of nerves in her eyes. 

You smiled back, holding your cup up to the camera. “Hey, thanks for the coffee,” 

“Couldn’t have a coffee date without coffee.” She held hers up too, and you noticed the little Dutch bros logo that differed from the grounded NW that was stamped on your cup.  “I figured we could pull up a tandem stream and watch the game together,” 

You scratched the back of your neck, as the screen shifted to a wide shot of warmups. “Like a Skype?” 

“There’s a program,” Lindsey shrugged, and the camera shifted as she grabbed what you assumed was her computer. “I can send you a link,” 

You squinted at the phone, glancing back up at your television. There were still 20 minutes before the game. 

“How did you know what room I was in?” You asked, trying not to focus on how attractive the way Lindsey pulled her lip between her teeth was. How attractive the lines of her neck were. 

She looked up at you, her blue eyes burning through you even through the screen. 

“One of the equipment interns is a big fan,” She shrugged. “Cost me an autograph, but she was willing to help,” 

You couldn’t help the way your lips lifted as you shook your head. “Becca isn’t a fan, but her girlfriend Chloe is,” 

“Ah, I see,” Lindsey hummed, and it felt like old times again. It sent butterflies fluttering in your chest and dread pulsing through your stomach. “I found the link, I’ll send it to you,” 

It reminded you that you couldn’t trust her. That she would only hurt you because you were her secret. You just didn’t understand why she wanted to connect with you here. 

Why she was trying so hard when she would just reject you again anyway. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked her suddenly. 

She blinked back towards you. “Doing what?”

“Pretending like you care,” You shrugged, picking at a loose thread on your shorts, looking away from your phone. “You don’t have to put in the effort because you feel guilty or whatever. I don’t blame you for this,” 

You held your still gauze-covered hand up so she could see it. 

She frowned, holding your gaze. “I’m not doing this because I feel guilty, and I’m not pretending,” 

“Then why?” 

“I…,” Red colored her cheeks and she swallowed her, but she didn’t look away from you like you expected her to. “I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time. You are my soulmate, and I have a lot of making up to do. I know that in-person stuff is probably overwhelming, so I thought this was a good compromise,” 

You stared at her like she had grown an extra head. 

She actually listened to what you told her and then thought about it. For the first time, she was taking your feelings into account, instead of barreling through them. 

It was so…weird. 

Of course, she had always been thoughtful, but never about your boundaries. She had always stubbornly edged her way past the very few that there were, and you let her because you wanted her to. 

And it was frustrating because you couldn’t read her emotions through the phone. You didn’t want to do whatever this was on a screen. 

“The stream will be a little grainy, but it’ll work,” she cleared her throat. “I just sent it to you,” 

You sighed but pulled out your laptop and opened the link she sent you. She was right, it was grainy, especially compared to the stream you had going on the television. 

“This is stupid,” You said as the stream glitched. “Where are you?” 

“Um, the conference room,” Lindsey muttered, scratching the back of her neck. “Why?”

You sucked your lip between your teeth, biting down bone too gently, hoping that the little sting would help you think. That it would help you focus. 

Were you ready to see her in person? Probably not, but when had you ever been ready for Lindsey? 

You were almost there. 

And a FaceTime, when no one knew, was too reminiscent of the way things had been. It felt too secretive. Too… hidden. 

“I'm coming down,” You said, deciding in an instant that if you were going to do this, you weren’t going to be her secret. If you were going to do this, if she was going to prove that things would be different, then she was going to have to do it in public where people could see you. “Watching soccer through a screen sucks when the stadium is only like 3 minutes away,” 

She froze, her mouth opening and closing a few times as you slipped off of the bed and pulled on a pair of slides (laces were still a bitch when you couldn’t move your dominant hand). 

It was cool enough out that you wouldn’t look out of place in your sweats, so you slid your room key and your wallet into your pocket before heading out the door. 

“You don’t have to,” She mumbled, running a hand through her hair as the door slammed behind you. “I don’t want you to feel pressured,” 

You glanced at the screen. “I don’t. I just…,” 

You let out a long breath, trying to figure out how to explain it to her. 

“This feels too much like when we watched the premier leagues finals together on FaceTime because Arod gave me a concussion when we played against Utah,” You said, using your back to push through the door that separated the hallway and the stairway. 

It was an unfortunate accident that kept you off the national team roster for the SheBelieves Cup, but that hadn’t stopped you and Lindsey from watching the Arsenal vs. Barça game. 

You had opened your apartment door to find soup waiting for you instead of coffee, and a little note that felt so similar. It was perfect, until Emily interrupted your date, and suddenly you were just Lindsey’s friend again. 

You swallowed, looking away from the phone as you descended down the steps. “I don’t want things to be like they were before,” 

Everyone was in agreement that you couldn’t go back to the way things were. It would kill you more than the soulmate sickness already was. 

You would be past the point of no return if you weren’t there already. 

She paused on the other end of the phone, a very serious look crossing her features. 

“I don’t either,” She said, her eyebrows furrowing the same way they did in the locker room when she figured out how to break through the other team's defense. “I know you hated the notes, but what I said in them was true. I choose you, and I’ll do whatever I need to prove it to you,”  

You sighed but didn’t argue back, pausing on the landing between the 2nd floor and the 1st. 

There was no point anyway. Now with Lindsey so… stubbornly determined. 

“Meet me in the lobby,” You breathed out, not giving her a chance to say anything before you hung up. 

Your heart beat erratically in your chest, and you gripped the railing, trying to calm the storm of butterflies and ice fighting in your stomach. 

You sucked in a deep breath through your nose, counting to four in your head before blowing it out for eight, repeating the cycle until the gray edges of your vision returned. 

A simple phrase shouldn’t set you so on edge. 

You shouldn’t care so much about meaningless words. 

You dropped your head, resting it against the cool wall of the stairwell. 

It was ok that you cared, you reminded yourself. You could hear Clarke’s words in your head. It was normal, natural to have feelings. 

You let out another long breath, debating on leaving Lindsey waiting for you in the lobby and running back up to your room. 

But you couldn’t. 

That would be cruel, and you should at least put up as much effort as Lindsey was. 

Nothing would be resolved if you didn’t, and you couldn’t live in limbo for forever, no matter how much your anxiety said you could. 

While seeing Lindsey in person was a terrifying prospect, it was a step you needed to take. Not for her, but for yourself. 

You didn’t need her to choose you, because you were choosing yourself. And you wouldn’t let fear rule you. 

You wouldn’t let resignation either. 

Tobin was right, you deserved to let yourself have 5 seconds of bravery. 

******

You stared out at the crowd at Providence park, spotted with red and roses and little flecks of pink from the fans who had followed you from LA. 

It was a sight you knew would never get old, even if it sent a little pang through your chest now. 

You remembered the last time you had sat in this box, it was so… different. 

Everything in your universe was falling apart, and you were convinced no one cared. It was the last game of the season, and all you could think about was escaping. Running away to a country where even Emily and Tobin couldn’t hunt you down. 

Now though, here you sat staring at the glinting of the fans in the stadium like it was the light at the end of a tunnel. 

You just hoped it wasn’t a train. 

“It’s kinda weird,” You mumbled, leaning forward and resting both of your elbows on the edge of the box. 

It made you feel almost nostalgic. 

“Hmm?” Lindsey hummed from two seats away from you, her eyes never leaving the field. 

She had been strangely…normal with you since you met her in the lobby. Her smile had been shy, and you did your best not to stare at the little sliver of skin above the low-hanging waist of her sweatpants. 

She held the door for you when you came in the back entrance of the stadium and made small talk all through the 3-minute walk. 

It set you at ease and that fucking terrified you. 

“The last time I was up here, Tobin scored a hatty and now everyone is booing her,” You said, your eyes following the winger as she slid a ball in to Christen, and your nose scrunching when Bixby barely made the save. 

Lindsey snorted, and shook her head, clearly remembering the game you were talking about. “That was a rough game for the Spirit. Rosie was pissed,” 

Your lips tilted up. 

Rosie had been so so spicy, especially during the second half of the game. With the frustration on her side, you couldn’t blame her. 

“Emily almost got a red card because she couldn’t stop her without fouling her,” 

Lindsey shook her head, mirroring your expression. “Rosie is a fucking pain in the ass to defend against,” 

Rosie was a magician on the ball, and even with the Thorns up by 4 in that game, she had been tearing the defense apart. 

“The worst,” You agreed, and a strange look crossed Lindsey’s face. 

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” She picked at a string on her sweatpants, and your eyes zeroed in on the movement. “There were some definite sighs of relief when you weren’t on the roster,” 

It brought you back to where you were. To how… strained things between you and Lindsey were. 

To how it was all your fault. 

She said that she didn’t pity you, but you didn’t believe her. 

The only reason she was doing any of this was because she felt guilty. Your friends had turned against her, and the only way for them to forgive her was for her to try to fix it with you. 

And you were too pathetic to even give her a real chance. 

“I guess I’m a pain in the ass in a lot of ways, huh?”

Her head snapped at the self-deprecating comment, one that she knew stretched much deeper than your soccer-playing ability. 

She knew it wasn’t the perfect time to bring up heavy things, but she couldn’t let the moment pass. 

“You’re not,” Lindsey said vehemently, reaching across the empty seat between you to catch your non injured hand and tangle your fingers together. “I hurt you. You are allowed to process that however, you need to do that. I love you and I will do whatever I can to show you that and to earn my shot with you. I wasted my first one, but I will not waste the second one. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.” 

It was everything you ever wanted her to say. What you had dreamed about her saying for years. It made you feel tingly all over and you were sure that you were blushing. It helped to set you at ease and sent alarm bells ringing in your ears at the same time. 

You tore your eyes away from her, looking back out at the fans. 

Red banners fluttered around the crowd, mixing with the yellows and greens of the stadium like warning signs. 

Like the signs your subconscious had tried to show you the first time around. 

“Don’t,” You bit out, snatching your hand away, pushing yourself up from the stadium chair, and putting as much space between the two of you as you could in the cramped box. You ran your gauzed hand through your hair, ignoring the way it pulled uncomfortably at the strands. 

She paused, watching you with careful eyes like you were a wounded animal backed into a corner. 

“Don’t what?” She asked, keeping her voice level. 

The tone irritated you. 

It reminded you too much of Christen. 

You shook your head, climbing the steps of the box and stepping into the hallway. 

“Y/n wait,” Lindsey called after you. 

But you didn’t. You hung a left and headed off with no particular direction in mind, trusting your feet to take you to a spot you could breathe. 

“Y/n” she called again, her voice closer than it was, but you didn’t stop for her, hanging another right and a left down the maze of hallways. “Where are you going?” 

You didn’t answer. 

Her feet pounded the concrete floor as she raced to catch up with you, but you ignored it. 

You didn’t care if she followed you. 

“Y/n,” She caught your arm, pulling you to a stop and forcing you to look at her. “Don’t what?”

You looked up and met her burning blue eyes. “Don't say things you don’t mean because you think it’s what you’re supposed to do. You might not pity me, but you’re only trying to fix this because you feel guilty or whatever. You’re only saying you love me because you know what will happen if you don’t. I just,” 

You tore your eyes away, stepping as far from her as the small hallway would allow, your back landing heavily against the army-green wall. “I would rather let the hole in my chest kill me than have you pretending to feel things you don’t,” 

She stepped into your space, and you molded yourself against the cool brick. 

“I’m not pretending,” She said, leaning close to you, her eyes boring into yours with fire and passion, and honesty. “I love you Y/n. Not because Kelley sent me a photo or because the team hates me. I’ve been in love with you since we were 18. I was just too much of a coward to admit it. I have fucked this up so badly, I know, but how do I get it through your thick skull that there has never been a moment where I didn’t love you,” 

You swallowed hard, glancing over her shoulder towards the random staff lingering. 

She followed your gaze before all of her attention was back on you. “And this time, I don’t care who knows. You’re my soulmate,” 

And there it was, the moment you had been waiting for since you opened your eyes to see her childhood playground so many months ago. 

“I love you too,” 

The words fell shakily from your lips. A shuttering promise, filled with devotion and heaviness. 

An unspoken Always passed between you. 

“I know,” She nodded once, stepping back from your personal space, and straightening her Office t-shirt. Though she didn’t drop your hand. “Do you wanna watch the rest of the game?”

You swallowed again. “Yeah,” 

Her smile turned shy as she began to lead you back toward the box to watch the rest of the game. “And maybe we can do a movie night or something after?” 

You squeezed her hand in three slow pulses, hoping to slow your racing heart. “Maybe,” 

You didn’t necessarily trust her, but you also weren’t ready for the night to end yet. 

It was a dangerous idea, but the ache in your chest made you hesitant to leave Lindsey. Hesitant to deny her. 

You wouldn’t have to decide until the end of the game anyway. 

******

As it turned out, making the decision to go with Lindsey back to the hotel after the game was… easier than you’d like to admit. 

Just being with her made the lingering throb in your chest ease. It neutralized the burning acid in your stomach and slowly started to thaw the ice in your veins.

The feeling was addictive and so much stronger than the ones you got from the dreams. 

It terrified you, but you were unwilling to stop yet. 

It was like she was a campfire. You needed to be close to her warmth, but you knew too much exposure would leave you smelling like smoke. That getting too close would burn you. 

It was why you had been so hesitant to see her in person. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to deny her. 

You had never been able to deny her. 

But being with her this time felt distinctly different. 

She held your hand throughout the rest of the game, and on the walk back to the hotel. She hadn’t let go until you used the little key card to scan into your room. 

She had taken the double bed that you hadn’t used as you cued up an old USMNT game, kicking her shoes off and settling against the pillows. 

It just felt… odd to have so much space between the two of you, even if you were slightly grateful for it. And while you appreciated Lindsey trying to respect a boundary she was unsure of, it felt… forced. 

You looked away from the screen, and towards Lindsey, your hands opening and closing several times trying to figure out where you were supposed to sit. 

You had 2 options. 

You could either sit beside her on the extra bed, or across from her on the one you had already used. 

While sitting on your bed would give you the solace of not having to fight your instincts, just the idea of sitting with her was making the hole in your chest crackle with the possibility of relief. It was like holding water out to a person trapped in the desert. Like a life raft floating inches from a drowning man. 

She made eye contact with you, gently patting the space beside her, seemingly seeing your struggle. “I won’t bite. I won’t even cuddle you if you don’t want me to. We’re doing this at your pace,” 

You slowly stepped towards her, settling next to her on the bed. You slowly leaned back on the pillows, dangerously close to her arm.

She kept her word and didn’t move a muscle, even as you wiggled beside her trying to get comfortable. 

You sighed, closing your eyes as Alexie Lala’s voice droned on about things you didn’t care about, trying not to think about how warm Lindsey was. 

You took three deep breaths, making your choice. You were going to have to be the one to make the first move. 

You pushed your doubt from your mind and slowly moved your hand towards the best radiating from Lindsey. Your fingers gently descended her arm until you met her hand, and you wound your fingers together. 

Lindsey welcomed the touch, and you shouldn’t have been surprised since you had been holding hands all night, but you were. 

It should have scared you how perfectly the two of you fit together, but it didn’t. 

You had always fit together perfectly. Maybe that was why you were soulmates. 

She squeezed your fingers and shifted so her shoulder could be a more comfortable pillow for your head. 

“Comfy?” She asked when you wiggled again, pressing more tightly against her as you got cozy. 

You hummed, opening your eyes to look at the game on the screen. 

She brought your intertwined hands up and kissed the back of yours. “Good,” 

You both settled into a comfortable silence as the men’s team took the field. 

It reminded you of the thousands of nights the two of you had spent together before, but it didn’t fill you with a sense of dread that it had not too long ago. It didn’t make you feel dirty. 

It was impossible for it to when Lindsey’s warmth was leaching into your skin, melting the edges of the ice that encased your chest. 

The fingers of her free hand gently traced up and down your forearm, barely brushing the gray line on the inside of your elbow every few laps. 

You wondered if she knew that the simple contact sent singles up your arm. Or if she knew that physical touch was the only way to cure the effects of soulmate sickness. 

“Do they hurt?” She asked you as Jamaica cleared the ball and the men’s team stepped up to take a throw-in. 

You blinked, once, twice processing the gentle question. 

“Those don’t anymore. They’re healed,” You said slowly as her finger traced the gray line up past your elbow. “The doc says that the lines will never completely go away through,” 

It got a bit darker as it ascended your arm, but it was nothing compared to the bubbling black it had been. The lines would fade a bit more until they were little more than raised silver skin like any other scar, it would just take time. 

“The others?” Lindsey’s voice was barely above a whisper, as she traced slightly higher up your arm, towards your shoulder. 

You shook your head. “Not as bad as it used to be. The meds help, and…,” You swallowed hard. “And not seeing him with you helps too,”

You felt Lindsey nod, and it went quiet again for another long second. 

“Can I see it?” 

Her voice stayed soft and hesitant, and you fought to keep yourself from going rigid. 

It was a hard thing to explain, that letting people see the still deep purple mark on your chest. That letting Lindsey see it was more intimate than almost anything the two of you had ever done. 

Doing it in dreams was so different than letting her see it in real life. 

And you weren’t really sure how you felt about that. 

You also weren’t sure how you felt about being alone with Lindsey in just a sports bra and shorts. 

“You’ve already seen it,” You mumbled stiffly. 

“I know,” Lindsey agreed, taking a long pause like she was choosing her words carefully. “I just… Can I see it for real?”

You let out a long breath through your nose because you understood the need to see it in real life. 

You didn’t trust the dreams either, but did you trust Lindsey enough to let her see?

You wondered what Clarke would say. What her advice would be? 

It would probably be some shit about following your feelings.

You let out another long breath. 

“Ok,” You whispered, your voice sounding more unsure than you wanted to show. 

“Ok,” Lindsey repeated, squeezing your hand once, before letting go. 

It was a long second before you sat up, carefully scooting away from her and turning so you were facing her. She pulled her feet up so she was sitting criss cross and shuffled forward so your knees were touching. 

Your eyes met hers. The blue in them seemed to smolder as they stared into yours, and for the first time in a very long time, nerves bubbled in your stomach. 

You carefully pulled your shirt over your head, revealing the dark bruise that still sat right above your heart, and the receding spider web of veins that sprouted out from it. 

Lindsey’s eyes remained locked with yours until you nodded once, giving her consent to look. It was only then that they trailed down your face, and towards the network of gray and purple that dotted the skin of your neck, deepening as it approached the space right above your heart. 

Her lip disappeared between her teeth as she finally landed on the epicenter of your pain. 

“Can I?” She asked, lifting her hand, but not touching you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but nodded once again, having already expected the request. 

She nodded again, and very slowly extended her arm. 

Her hand was warm as it landed on your shoulder, very gently touching the graying lines near your neck. Even the gentle press had a shudder running down your spine and goosebumps appearing up and down your arms. 

“Good?” Lindsey asked, her eyes darting back up to yours. 

You nodded stiffly. “Good,” 

She hummed, dragging her hand down the graying line towards the black mark above your heart. 

She flattened her palm against it, and it was like a lantern in the dark. Like an instant balm for the ever-present sting that accompanied each heartbeat. 

You were sure she could feel how fast it was beating, like a runaway freight train threatening to explode out of your chest. 

You shivered at the feeling, so much more potent than it was in the dreams. 

It tingled and burned and filled you with a sense that everything was going to be ok (even if the rational part of your brain knew everything was so far from it), but it was different because this time, it was real. 

“What does it feel like?” 

“Hm?” You blinked up at her, realizing that your faces were merely inches apart. 

Her eyes lifted from the little lines slowly receding on your chest to meet yours again. “I feel the warmth in my hand, but what does it feel like for you?” 

“It’s hard to explain,” You said, squinting, your tongue poking from between your teeth. “It’s like a lantern lighting a dark abyss. Like a warm cup of tea after a freezing rain game,” 

She nodded once, looking away from you and back towards the web of black on your chest. “I’m sorry I did this,” 

“I know,” You smiled gently at her. “I forgive you,” 

The truth was that you had forgiven her long ago, even if you didn’t trust her. 

Her head bobbed in time with her throat. “I just felt like I needed to say it again. I was just so in my head that I wasn’t letting myself feel,” 

Your lips turned down, and your eyebrows furrowed. “And what do you feel?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, shy and hesitant. “I feel like I want to kiss you,” 

You tilted your chin so your lips were centimeters apart. “What’s stopping you?” 

She sighed softly. “We’re doing this at your pace, and I don’t want to push you. You should be able to forgive me in your own time, without outside pressure from me,” 

You felt more warmth bloom in your chest, spreading from the point the two of you were touching, all the way up to your ears. 

It filled you with fondness and… love. It made you feel like she cared, and you wanted so badly to believe that she did. 

And maybe this time you did believe her. 

Trust would take time to earn, and for the first time in a very long time, you were willing to give her the chance to earn it. 

This time you had the power to change the ending. 

“Kiss me,” You murmured.

She leaned in the rest of the way, and your eyes slid closed as her lips pressed very gently into yours. 

It was different than the kisses you had shared before, more reminiscent of the ones between you in France before the world of expectations and responsibilities had been placed on your shoulders. 

It was softer, more hesitant, but passionate nonetheless. 

You saw fireworks behind your eyelids and all your nerves stood on end. Your lips fit perfectly together, moving in a dance that only they knew. 

It was everything you had ever wanted and more, and it was everything you wanted for the rest of your life. 

Things weren’t perfect between the two of you. You both had scars and pain and things that you needed to solve with each other, but you knew that they would heal. Together you would be able to move past your past and make your future solid. Together you would figure it out. You would make it, together, interwoven for all eternity. 

Always

[grandlinedreams]

Hiii, long time lurker first time requester here!! (on anon bcos tumblr is my safe place, I hope that’s okay :3) I was wondering if I could submit a request before you close them? 💕

I love how you write lighthearted scenes with Law, it’s always the perfect balance of comedy while staying true to his character! So, may I propose: the fake relationship trope with Law x reader?? Yknow the iconic scenario when two characters who are definitely not dating find themselves in a sticky situation so the reader pulls the ‘oh this is my boyfriend/girlfriend’ card completely out of the blue and the other person just has to kinda go along with it so as not to blow their cover?

Idek how that would even come about in a scenario involving Law but I just know he would be so exasperated but still committed to going along with it hehe

Anon your mind is 😙👌🏼 chefs kiss I love that trope and I hope that I made it work well bc i wanted to go the humor route but decided that the Kaz/Inej coding of reader and Law needed some more food so ㅡ

[heads up!: spy!reader, reader is not specifically gendered but they do wear a dress, angst, Law's a lil dumb okay]

The party is beautiful. 

Soft orchestral music plays over the soft din of conversation, the sway of couples in lavish clothing and practiced weaving of staff through the clusters of socialites, trays of food held aloft and offered at various intervals.

Flute of champagne in hand, you watch from your place near a pillar, half-studying the people around you, half watching the fizz of tiny bubbles in your glass. 

"Not much of a dancer?" The speaker's tone is light and conversational, and when you look over, you half-recognize the man now standing next to you. He's the grandson of the man hosting this entire soiree ㅡ and you turn towards him.

"Unfortunately no," you answer with a demure smile, then dip your head to look through your eyelashes, tapping the rim of your glass against your lip. "I'm waiting on someone." 

You know his type, playing right into the invisible appeal as his gaze flickers, then brightens as he offers you his arm. "Perhaps I can at least offer a dance in the meantime?" 

Your smile widens just a little, the careful bat of your eyes. "Perhaps you can."

Your flute is set down in favor of tucking your arm into his and allowing him to sweep you out further onto the floor with the whisper of your dress against your legs. It's heavy and far from what you're accustomed to, but worth the extra beri for the way you fit right in amongst the others.

The press of his other hand is warm against your back, just shy of touching exposed skin ㅡ and you welcome the touch of dizziness from the champagne to keep from balking at the idea of him touching you. 

"This person you're waiting for," your partner says as he leads you through a graceful arc past another couple, "shame on them for keeping such a lovely creature such as yourself waiting for so long."

Your skin crawls, even as you laugh softly. "I assure you, they'reㅡ"

"There you are." A familiar voice makes you turn, finding sharp gold eyes focused on you, then your partner. Trafalgar Law looks less than thrilled about much at any given moment but right now, he looks livid, jaw taut as he watches you and your partner scramble for something to say.

"My apologies," your dance partner says, his expression shifting to mask his discomfort at Law's sudden appearance. "I take it that this is your…"

"My boyfriend," you answer smoothly, sheepish and apologetic as you disengage your arm from his and step towards Law. "It was lovely to dance with you. But if you'll excuse us for a moment?"

You don't give him or Law a chance to answer, grabbing the latter's hand to pull him with you as you hurry away as quickly as your dress and situational awareness will allow you. You're still working, after all, even if Law showing up has potentially jammed a wrench into the cogs. 

What is he even doing here? You want to demand answers, furious that he'd decided to show up unannounced ㅡ like he doesn't trust you. That alone both stokes your fury and douses it in cold water, an odd juxtaposition that ultimately just makes you feel sick.

Law lets you drag him down the hallway, the hard click of your shoes against the marble floor, studying the bounce of your carefully styled hair, the way the jeweled end of your hairpin sways with your movement. 

You'd been lucky enough to weave your web of deception strong enough to secure yourself a place to stay close to your target, and you let go of Law's hand in favor of fussing with the door before yanking him inside.

Law watches your shoulders sag with visible relief as you shut the door, then turn towards him. "What were you thinking? I had this under control." 

He knows. He knows you're more than capable of handling things like this, have proven yourself time and time again ㅡ he doesn't need to check in on you. But he doesn't want to admit the real reason, that he'd been jealous of someone else's hands on you, touching you the way he should be. 

Of course he'd never admit that, he'd rather take it to the grave with him than offer the open wound of vulnerability when he isn't sure you'd return his feelings. 

"You know what?" You say when he's quiet for too long, tone sharp with hurt wrapped in exhausted disbelief at his actions, "I don't want to hear it." 

He should apologize. Tell you that he hadn't meant to almost blow your cover, that he hadn't been thinking ㅡ but instead he watches you cross the room with the rustle of your dress, trying to clean up the clutter of just hours before.

"I just wish you'd trust me," you say, and Law can tell that it's more than just tonight that's bothering you. 

"I do trust you."

You scoff, silence broken by the hard click of plastic cased cosmetics that you toss roughly back into your bag and then reach to tug the pin out of your hair. "Could have fooled me."

Your tone is scathing, all raised hackles and sharp teeth ㅡ remnants of the wild thing you'd once been and in some ways still are. You, for all your sharp edges and uncomfortable truths, still find a way to nestle in his chest, tuck yourself in his heart in ways that terrify him. 

Your huff of frustration breaks Law out of his thoughts to find you struggling with the zipper at the top of your back, and he crosses the room without thinking.

The silent bat of his hand against yours makes you stiffen, hands moving to the bodice of your dress as he pinches the key of the zipper between his fingers.

"I do trust you," he repeats softly. He struggles, the drag of the zipper teeth agonizingly slow. "I apologize if I haven't made that clear." 

You stare at the mess of your bed. "I don't understand what the issue is, then." Your words are a knife you know how to wield and do it well, tight grip on the hilt and sharp tip at proverbial underbelly. "You do your job, I do mine. It's simple."

And yet it isn't. As much as Law wishes that it were, it's far from it. Because he cares about you, cares for you in ways he's trying so hard not to. 

The slow gap of your skin exposed, soft and unguarded that entices him, makes him want in ways he knows he shouldn't. You should pull away, demand he leave, that you'll see him later when you return to the Polar Tang. 

You don't. Instead, you let him pull the zipper down further. And maybe, if he were a different man, that would be enough. 

It isn't. 

The ghost of his fingers against your back makes you stiffen, but you don't discourage him. They slide along the slope of your shoulders, make an invisible path he entertains the brief fantasy of following with his mouth.

And maybe he could, maybe you'd let him ㅡ after all, you'd told those party goers he was your boyfriend. It'd been hasty, quick thinking on your part, but brilliant ㅡ as always. You never miss a beat, always thinking ahead. What he admires about you is the same thing that drives him crazy ㅡ you're always ahead of him, even in this. He knows, and is aware all he has to do is meet you in the middle.

He pulls away. 

"Do you regret allowing me to join your crew, Law?" Your voice, ever that blade, slices through the uncomfortable silence to twist deeper into the ache of his chest. "If you do, this is the perfect time to tell me to leave. I'm sure you can come up with something to tell the others."

You're offering him an out. A way to escape this complicated tangle, let him deflect and deny until you're nothing but a distant memory and a handful of reminders left around the Polar Tang. He should let you leave. 

"I want you," he says instead, and he means to follow that up with something, but it falls flat in the now stilted gap between you. 

You exhale. "You want me." 

You turn towards him, moonlight against the slope of your neck, the dip of your collarbone. Your eyes gleam, flashing with emotion. "And how would you have me, Law? Fully clothed, head turned so our lips can never meet?" 

That knife slips between his ribs and up, punctures his heart, lets him silently bleed out between every breath. He's reminded that you don't wear the boiler suit, your clothes unadorned with his jolly roger ㅡ a reminder that he does not own you (nor does he want to. He just wants you to stay.), and you are not his. But you could be, you tell him silently. You need him to meet you in the middle. That's all.

Something in your face shifts, breaking in his silence. "I will have you without armor, Trafalgar Law, or I will not have you at all."