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souliebird · 3 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 15]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Words: 8.1k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

The first thing you process as you begin to come to is a slow, rhythmic beeping. It is dull and low and it almost carries you right back into the nothingness. You slip in and out of the fog a few times before your mind is able to catch a hold of conciseness. Even then, it feels like everything crawls by until your thoughts go from incoherent images to actual awareness.

You feel awful - like you've been hit by a massive truck, who then backed up over you only to run you over again. Everything aches, but the worst of it is centered on the left side of your head, going down to your neck. It throbs and feels so stiff. You don't think you could move your head if you tried.

The second worst thing is how dry your mouth feels. It is as if someone stuffed you full of cotton to remove all the moisture from your body, then to make sure you were drained, dried you out under a heat lamp. It hurts to even try to swallow the little saliva your mouth is producing.

You need something to drink.

Like some sort of miracle, something cold and wet is pressed to your lips. It startles you, but you react quickly. You force your lips to part and an ice chip is slipped between them. You suck on it desperately and it only takes a second for it to melt away, but almost instantly you are given another one. This happens two more times before your mouth finally doesn't feel like a desert.

Your eyes are hard to open. They feel crusted shut and you don't know if you have the energy to try and pull them apart, but you try. It takes multiple attempts, but finally they open. Everything is far too bright and blurry.

Matt comes into focus above you, face wracked with concern. His hair is a mess and it looks like he hasn't slept in ages. His eyes, while sightless, are puffy and bloodshot and you wonder if he has been crying. Your brow knits in confusion and you try to reach for his cheeks to offer some sort of comfort. Your hand doesn't make it far off whatever you are laying on, but it doesn't matter because as soon as it is in the air, he's clasping his around yours.

He breathes out your name just as you croak out his.

Above you, he lets out the smallest breath of a laugh, like he is relieved, before moving even closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours and you let your eyes fall shut again - you're too tired to keep them open and you don't think he will mind the lack of eye contact.

“You scared me,” he whispers against you, before you feel his lips brush your cheek.

You manage a confused noise, not understanding what is going on. Your throat burns as you attempt to talk, “what happened…?”

“You've got a pretty bad ear infection,” he tells you and you think that sounds about right. Everything hurts so much and you are far too warm. The cotton feeling in your mouth is also in your left ear, making it feel like half your head is dunked under water.

He is so close, his breath warms your still cool lips as he talks, “It hit you hard and fast - your fever got up to 104 and you wouldn't wake up. We had to bring you to the hospital, but you'll be okay now. Your fever has gone down a lot.”

The words float through you and it takes you a few seconds to grasp onto them and make them make sense. “We…?” You question because you don't know who ‘we’ could be.

“Foggy and I,” he confirms. The hand not clutching your own cups your jaw and feels so cool and nice that you can't help but lean into it. He gives you another kiss, this time to the forehead, with his scruff lightly scratching against you. It tickles.

You realize a name is missing and your heart starts to race. Matt hasn't mentioned your daughter and you start to panic.

Where is she? Where's your baby?

“Minnie?” You ask, but to your non-stuffy ear, it sounds more like a whine.

He quickly starts to shush you, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheek, “it's okay, she's okay. She's safe. Foggy took her to go get some breakfast. She's okay. She's okay.”

His words do calm you, but your heart still pounds in your chest. You know Matt trusts Foggy, so to an extent, you do as well, but you want your daughter. You want to hold her and make sure she is truly alright. She must be so scared.

You get another kiss to the forehead and it pulls you from your worried yet sluggish thoughts. You decide you like the feeling of Matt's beard against your skin. It's not something you're used to, and even if it is a little scratchy, it feels nice. It makes you feel warm but not like your supposed fever is making you feel warm. It's a good warm that wraps around your heart. It helps to soothe you - Matt would never allow your little one to be in any danger.

“Try to get some rest, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere - I'll be right here when you wake up, again. I swear,” he whispers into your hairline and you find yourself nodding into his palm.

Sleep sounds good - you're tired and achy. Your eyes are so heavy you couldn't possibly open them again. You are slumping back down into your pillow before you know it, thoughts slowly buzzing back into nothing.

The darkness takes you easily and you drift off without realizing Matt is practically clinging to you.

----

When you wake again, things make a little more sense. The hazy heavy fog is no longer covering your brain and you are more aware of what is happening around you before you open your eyes.

You can hear people walking around and talking outside your little room and everything smells disgustingly sterile. You can feel where IVs have been placed into your arm and the different monitors attached to your chest. You also know Matt is still clutching your hand and that motivates you to actually look around.

Your head is tilted to the right, stretching out the stiffness on the other side, and centered in your view is Matt. He's asleep, head tilted down with his chin nearly to his collarbone. He looks so peaceful with his chest slowly rising and falling and someone has draped a thin blanket around his shoulders, only adding to his gentleness. You can't see it, but you're sure his knees must be bumping against the bed with how close he is to you.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Had he stayed there this entire time? Has he let go of your hand at all?

You remember when you were in the hospital to give birth. You had been so lonely - no one had been there to hold your hand or keep watch over you. No one had visited you - though you had received flowers from your work friends.

Is this what it will be like now?

You want that desperately - to feel like you matter to someone, for someone to care about you and your well-being, to feel like you aren't always alone.

You squeeze his hand, and even though you feel absolutely horrible - hot and sweaty and like your head wants to fall off - you find yourself smiling at the sweet, handsome, lawyer who fathered your child.

You are so happy you forced yourself to tell him the truth.

You don't hear anything to your left but your heart rate monitor beeping, but your ear is also so clogged up not a lot of noise is getting through and you know it's throwing off your spatial awareness. It hurts to roll your head, but it eases your nerves to find you are alone with Matt in the exam room. However, you can't help the worry that bubbles in your stomach over the lack of your daughter.

You know she must be with Foggy. The hospital is probably an incredibly unpleasant place for her - you hate being here because of the smells and atmosphere and that must be amplified for her. You can't imagine all the awful things she might hear here - the sick and dying and the surgeries. You are grateful for Matt's best friend. You will have to find a way to thank him properly.

You force your gaze back to Matt and begin to slowly rub your thumb over his knuckles. He has so many scars there and you don't possibly know how he could have collected them all. He's told you before he practices boxing, but you don't think it is the bare knuckle kind. Maybe the punching bag can split skin - you have no idea about any of it beyond what you've seen in short viral videos.

You have toyed with the idea of asking about going to the gym with him. You think it would be a fun experience for Minnie and you're curious how fit you actually are. Your workouts consist of chasing a toddler around - star jumps, push ups, and weights are no longer in your repertoire and you haven't properly gone on a run since high school. Plus, Minnie has recently learned what a cartwheel is and you are sure she will want to learn to do one and a gym is a safe place for that.

You fall into a daydream about Matt teaching you and Mouse how to tumble, closing your eyes again as you do. You picture buying cute little leotards and watching your daughter perform a routine until there's movement under your hand.

Matt squeezes your fingers, and you open your eyes just in time to see him blink awake.

He gives you a sleepy smile, then with his free hand pulls his glasses out from somewhere under his blanket and puts them on. You watch him, taking in his crows feet before they disappear.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he shrugs the blanket off his shoulders.

You take a moment to consider the answer. You honestly feel horrible, but you don't feel as horrible as you previously did. There are aches and pains but you feel human again, as opposed to the concept of one. So you squeeze his hand and respond, “Better. I didn't…I didn't think I was that sick.”

Matt hums and somehow scoots closer to the bed, then lifts your hand up to kiss the back of your hand. You feel your face heat up and your heart rate monitor beeps a little faster. “I'm glad, you gave us a good scare,” he says, keeping your hand against his lips.

You have to remind yourself he's a very touchy person to keep your heart rate from increasing even more. To help with that, you drop your gaze to his chest - he's wearing a Columbia sweatshirt that is far too big on him and hides his lean frame.

“What time is it?” His question throws you off at first, but then you realize there is a clock above the curtain entrance to the room.

It takes you a second to process, which you blame on the illness and not the fact you haven't used an analog clock in ages, “Almost 1:30. I'm…guessing that it is PM. I can't really tell.”

Matt nods and you guess he can tell whether it is day or night. You hope it is day - you'd feel so guilty if you'd been in the hospital longer than a few hours.

Behind your hand, a small smile appears on his face, “Minnie and Foggy are on their way back up. I think she heard - oh. Okay, yes, she heard you talking. She says she has a present for you.”

Your heart pangs for your daughter. You don't want her to see you like this, but you desperately need her in your arms. You try to push yourself up, but you don't know if you have the energy to keep yourself sitting.

“Do you know how the bed works?” You ask and Matt shakes his head. He reaches out and feels along the railings, but by his frown, you guess he can't figure it out. You doubt any of the button labels are in Braille.

“Let me get the nurse.”

He squeezes your hand once more before letting go. You tell yourself to ignore the strange feeling that envelopes you as he disappears behind the curtain separating you from everyone else.

You don't want to be alone again.

But you aren't - Matt is gone for barely thirty seconds before he's slipping back into the room, followed by a tired looking nurse. The woman comes up to your right side and you finally notice a little stand computer tucked by the bed. As she swipes her card key to unlock it, she looks at you, “How are you feeling?”

You decide to go with the same answer you gave Matt, “Better, ma’am.”

“Good, good,” she says as she types something. You go through the quick song and dance of confirming your name and birthdate, before she starts her questions, “Your pain on a scale of one to ten?”

You have to think about that - your head hurts but not nearly as much as it did last night and your body feels sore and groggy. You bite your lip before estimating, “About a four..?”

She adds that to your chart, “how about your ear? It should feel a bit clearer, you had a lot of fluid that drained out.”

That surprises you because you definitely do not remember that. You touch your ear and it feels far too warm and sensitive. You had no idea it was the problem, so you feel like you can't compare.

“I don't know. Full? It…hurts. Like it's…sore on the inside?” you feel like an idiot trying to explain, but you have no idea about ear anatomy.

The nurse hums, then turns to you, pulling a stethoscope out of her pocket, “I'm going to listen to your lungs. Take a deep breath.”

You do as you are told as she places the device on your back to listen. You repeat this a few times with her until she's satisfied and she goes to enter her findings in the computer.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she tells you before leaning down to adjust your bed, so it can help you sit. You go from laying down to being propped up, “He will go over your discharge instructions.”

You're being discharged? You just woke up and haven't talked to anyone at all. The fact they are sending you away confuses you, “I'm being discharged?”

The nurse nods, not even looking at you as she locks the computer, “Yes. Do you feel you shouldn't be?”

You flush at the question and duck your head in shame. You know better than to question a doctor - if they think you should be discharged, you are fine. You force yourself to shrug and apologize, “No, I'm sorry, I just didn't expect it.”

The nurse simply gives you another hum before leaving to probably go tend to a patient that actually needs her. Almost instantly, Matt is back by your side, taking your hand. He kisses the meat of your thumb as he sits back in his chair.

“If you need to stay, you can stay,” he quietly advises.

You quickly shake your head, “No, it will be fine.” You huff a sad laugh, “It's not like I can afford this anyways.” You don't want to imagine the bill you are going to receive - being brought into the emergency room and given all kinds of medicine. You’ll have no more savings.

“Don't worry about it,” he quickly tells you, a frown clear on his face. “Focus on getting better. Taking care of yourself. We can tackle the bill later - there's plenty of work arounds.”

Guilt pools in your belly - you don't need Matt worrying about your money problems. You force yourself to nod at his words, simply so he'll not try to comfort you over this issue. You think he must be on to what you are doing because he squeezes your hand and starts to say something, but quickly cuts himself off. You don't understand why until a few moments later - the curtain closing off your room is pushed aside and Minnie barrels in, closely followed by Foggy.

You barely look at the blonde, instead pulling away from Matt to throw open your arms for your baby. The speed in which she manages to scale Matt and jump to you is impressive and you hug her to you like you're trying to absorb her. Your arm screams at you due to the fact you're trying to bend where your IVs are, but you don't care - and you don't care if your little angel is nearly strangling you with how tight she's hugging you.

“Don't ever get sick again!” She whines into your neck and you nod against her. You'll never get sick again - what you put her through for being sick will forever live in your mind.

“I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, I didn't know I was sick.”

“It was scary!”

That absolutely breaks your heart and tears start to fall.

“I'm so sorry, Minnie,” you choke out as you try to hold her impossibly closer. The guilt you had regarding money transforms into guilt over being sick at all. How dare you put Minnie through this? You should have realized something was wrong. You repeatedly apologize into her hair, trying to keep yourself from sobbing while she clings to you.

You feel the bed dip and then Matt is pulling you both against his chest and pressing his lips to your crown, “Shhh, it's okay. It's okay.”

You try to shake your head because none of this is okay. You scared and upset your daughter and you've got a stupid ear infection that is going to bankrupt you. Nothing is okay.

“Do you want to show your Mommy what you got her to make her feel better?” Foggy asks Minnie after a minute of you being hysterical and shame courses through you as you are reminded someone else is there, watching you breakdown.

You are such a fucking mess.

However, Minnie pulls away from being squashed between you and Matt and jumps off the bed to go to the blonde. You finally notice, through teary tired eyes, that he has a decently sized gift bag. He sets it down on the ground and Mouse has to pick it up by its sides because it's too tall for her to hold by the handles.

As she tries to figure out how to get back on the bed, you realize Matt is still wrapped around you and you decide you are too tired to fight with your anxiety and guilt any longer. You want his comfort - so you lean more into his arms and he responds by nuzzling you. He begins running his hands over your arms and somehow, it begins to soothe away your upset.

You miss whatever exchange your daughter and Foggy have, but he lifts her up and places her and the gift bag on the bed and she hauls it over to you.

“We got you a present to get better,” she tells you and you know whatever it is, you'll cherish it.

There's no tissue blocking your view and you see something pink and white checkered that looks very soft. Before you can move to pull it out, Matt intervenes. He takes your wrist and gently stretches out your arm that has the IV in it, humming against you, “You have to keep your arm straight.”

You flush at the reminder, feeling like a complete idiot, and use only one hand to pull out the gift.

It is a massive blanket and it is so so soft. You want to bury yourself in it.

“Oh, Mouse, this will make me feel better. Thank you so so much,” you say as you reach out with your good arm to hug her again. She wastes no time tucking herself back between you and Matt.

“Blankies make everything better,” she advises wisely, “Froggy said so.”

You can't help but smile at that and hold your daughter even closer. You turn your attention to Foggy, who has just been an absolute saint for watching over your daughter, “Thank you so much, Foggy. For everything. I can't thank you enough.”

He scoffs and waves his hand, “it is my pleasure. This wasn't my first late night Murdock call, it won't be my last, and she is at least a pleasure to be around at three in the morning.”

You want to ask how they even knew you were sick, but you also don't want to know the details. You can only guess Minnie somehow called Matt and you aren't in a place to hear that conversation. The guilt and emotions would overwhelm you even more than you already are and you are so so tired of crying. So you hug your daughter even closer, so she's in your lap, and mumble another thank you.

Foggy takes a seat in one of the visitor chairs and asks, “has the doctor come yet to talk to you?” You very much appreciate his concern, but most importantly, his tact. You don't feel like he's judging or lying to you. He seems genuinely concerned.

You try to not shake your head at his question, since Matt is still holding you and it would just hurt your head more, and reply “Just the nurse. She said I'm getting discharged.”

The blonde huffs, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms, “Wow, they really do just turn and burn. Last time I was here, they pushed me through, too. American health care, right?” You hum in agreement - the health care system in America is very bad.

Foggy dives into a story about being in the hospital when he was a kid. It quickly catches Minnie’s attention and you realize this may be more for her benefit than anyone else's. You try to listen, but instead find yourself resting your head on Matt's shoulder and closing your eyes again.

You’ll just stay like this, your daughter in your lap and her father holding you against him, until the doctor comes.

If he takes his time getting to you, you don't think anyone is going to complain.

---

It takes another three hours for you to be fully discharged. You have to fill out a mass of paperwork before the doctor even speaks to you, but after he does, no time is wasted to clear you out of the needed exam room.

Any concerns you have about getting home are moot, as Foggy has everything covered. He has borrowed his girlfriend's car and procured a child's seat from his parents - who apparently have multiple due to their ‘hoard of grandchildren’. Minnie doesn't fuss at all, focused on being the best helper she can be by carrying your purse, which had apparently been brought in with you. Matt is insistent on helping you walk, which you are grateful for - standing makes you very dizzy and you have to focus to not stumble.

To your great surprise, Karen is waiting outside your building as Foggy pulls the car up. She's carrying a few shopping bags, and beside her is a grumpy looking man you vaguely recognize holding a very old fashion looking crockpot. It has an orange vintage flower pattern and you kind of want it.

No one says anything as you all climb out of the vehicle. Matt quickly gets himself under your shoulder and his arm around your waist while Minnie latches herself to your hand. You don't know if she thinks she's helping or if she's obeying your rule of hand-holding when outside.

You all awkwardly stand on the sidewalk and you watch as Foggy and the new man have a staring contest. You have no idea what is going on and kind of don't care, as you want to get up to your apartment. After a full minute, Foggy points to the man and declares, “you aren't coming to Thanksgiving,” before marching towards the door to the building. Matt, and thus you, follows after him and as you pass Karen, she snorts with laughter. She and the man fall in line behind you as you make your way to the stairs.

You just know that if you allowed him, Matt would pick you up and carry you up the three flights of stairs, but you refuse to let it happen. You are dizzy and far too warm, but also very stubborn and you determinedly take each step at a time, refusing to stop until you're on your floor. Only then do you resume leaning into his hold.

Foggy unlocks your door then ushers you all inside. Minnie lets go of your hand almost instantly, drops your purse, and runs to the bedroom. You guess she is going to grab Pig and Scooby to update them on everything. You make your way to your couch as Karen sets the groceries on the table and her grumpy friend finds a spot on the counter to plug in the crockpot.

As she unpacks, Karen narrates, “Okay, so I got you all the essentials - Gatorade, tea, saltines, ibuprofen, a compress, and I got you life savers to suck on because that helps when you want something to sweet but don't want to eat anything. I picked up your medicine, it's just ear drops. And of course, the most important thing,” you turn on the couch just in time to see her motion towards your kitchen, “Nelson Family Chicken Soup.”

You stare at the blonde with wide eyes and you feel like you are going to start crying again. No one has ever done this much for you before - not even your ex-boyfriends. Your last one wouldn't even pick up tampons for you, but Karen has clearly gone out of her way and you've only met her a handful of times. You have no idea how to thank her and Foggy for everything they have done for you. You are going to have to bake them a cake or something. As for Matt, you know you are never going to be able to repay him for the comfort and care he has given you in the last few hours.

You are so overwhelmed with love for this little group of friends who are letting you into their life.

“Thank you so much,” you say, meaning it with all of your heart, “you didn't have to do all of that. Thank you.”

Karen gives you a warm smile before waving you off, “Don't mention it. You'd do the same for any of us.”

You happily would and plan to take notes of what Karen bought, just in case. However, the soup is something that confuses you. Did Matt's best friend bring Minnie to his house to cook? You turn to Foggy, who is examining Minnie’s toy chest, and ask, “You made soup?”

The blonde man looks up with a laugh, “God, no, you don't want me cooking. That was all my mom. Her soup is a cure all.”

“It is,” Matt vouches from beside you. “It can cure almost anything. It got rid of my flu last year.”

“It saved countless Christmases,” Foggy adds.

“It also stops cramps,” Karen confirms.

You look to the man in the kitchen for his approval and he just shrugs, “Haven't had it, but it smells good.”

You have to cover your face at that point because it is all too much. Foggy's mother made you soup? How did she even know you were sick? Why did she do this for you - someone she's never met? Someone she has no connection to at all?

An arm wraps around your shoulder and you are pulled to lean against Matt. He nuzzles against you and whispers, “you aren't alone anymore. We're all here for you.”

You hide yourself against him and he starts to rub your back in a comforting manner. This is far too much for you. You don't know how to process all of it.

Luckily, a distraction from your patheticness comes in the form of your daughter.

You hear her come back into the living room and boldly ask the strange man in your kitchen, “Who are you?”

You try to listen since you are curious and you can feel that Matt has turned his head to pay attention to his daughter. You stay tucked against his shoulder, wishing you had your new big blanket to wrap yourself in.

“My name's Frank, what's yours, little lady?” The man says and you try to commit the name to memory. You wonder if he is Karen's boyfriend or something - you don't think he's been mentioned before.

“Minnie!” She declares, then, “This is Pig and Scooby. They like soup, too!” You guess she's held up her toys for him to see. She must be less nervous of the man since he is in your home.

There's a round of chuckles before Frank speaks again, “That right? How about we leave it to your Daddy to get you and your friends some soup and we let your Mommy get some rest?”

There's a few beats of silence before you hear Minnie again, “Okay. Bye-bye, Mister Frank.”

The man barks with laughter, which barely covers the pitter-patter of feet coming towards you, “Daddy, can we have soup for dinner, I'm hungry.”

“Of course, princess, I'll make you a bowl.”

The others must take that as a cue, because when you lift your head up, the three other adults are making their way back to your front door.

Karen lightly calls out your name to get your attention, and when she sees you looking at her, offers a soft smile, “Feel better soon, and let us know if you need anything.”

“Anything at all,” Foggy adds, “I'm more than happy to play babysitter. Parks are my specialty if the squirt needs to get out all that Murdock energy.”

“I'm not a squirt!” Mouse huffs and you can picture her puffing up her cheeks.

“I don't know, kid, you look like a squirt to me,” Frank tells her and she lets out a long ‘nooooo’ in response.

You smile against Matt at the little exchange - you can tell your daughter is extremely fond of Foggy and that makes your heart rest easy. She's never been so vocal around other adults before.

“Thank you, so much. I really, really mean it,” you tell the people who have come to your rescue.

“It is really not a problem, you're family, now,” Foggy tells you before directing himself towards Minnie, “Okay, squirt, can I get a high five?” The sound of a toddler running followed by a slap tells you she just did that. “Good girl! Now, help your Dad take care of your Mom and call me if he gives you any trouble, got it?”

“Got it, Froggy!”

Goodbyes are exchanged then it is just your little family left in your apartment. You finally allow yourself to pull away from Matt.

“You don't need to stay.”

His response is to raise his eyebrows at you, “You think I'm going to leave you alone while you're sick? You need to rest. I’ll take care of everything else. Minnie can finally show me her Scooby movie.”

You want to tell him ‘no’, that you have it handled and he should go get his own rest, but you know it's fruitless. You're learning Matt is committed to his role of being a father and there will be no way to convince him to go. He's a lawyer - he probably already has fifteen arguments ready for why he should stay.

So you give in and give a small nod, “Okay…”

He breaks into a big grin, like he expected you to push back and is happy you didn't, “Good. Are you feeling up to some soup?”

Your stomach turns at the idea of eating anything. You’d been given IV fluids at the hospital and managed a cup of water, but you do not want to eat. There is nothing actually wrong with your stomach - everything is centered on your ear - but that doesn't change the fact you'll probably not be able to keep anything down.

“No,” you tell him after a moment, then add, “I think I'm going to shower and go to bed.”

“Okay,” he hums, reaching up and oh so gently petting your cheek with the back of his fingers and making a shiver run up your spine, “Let me know if you need anything. You don't need to get up, if you just say anything, I'll hear it, okay?”

You don't like the idea of him being able to hear your sick gross body, but there is nothing you can do about it. You slowly push yourself up, careful to not get too dizzy, then start towards your bedroom. Behind you, Matt starts talking about soup and Scooby with Minnie.

Once you are alone in your room with the door closed, you break down. You sit on your bed, hide your face in a pillow, and just let out all of your tears. All your frustration, your shame, your guilt, your confusion, your tiredness, and your pain pours out of you. Your shoulders shake as you bite into the pillow to try and hide your sobs and you pray Matt realizes you need to be alone right now and distracts Minnie. You just need to get all of this out of you.

Your body is so exhausted you can only cry for a few minutes before you are completely drained. You feel slightly better emotionally, but your head is throbbing even more.

You desperately want to get clean and curl up now. You weakly toss your pillow back on the bed and force yourself up to gather something clean to change into. You place the new garments of the dresser, before going to the closet and pulling out a new sheet for your bed. You know you don't have the energy to strip it, but you don't want to sleep on your own filth. So, you push your blanket off, then lay the clean sheet over the dirty one.

Satisfied with your meager attempt, you grab your clothes, open the bedroom door, and shuffle to the bathroom.

You look like absolute shit and don't need your mirror to tell you that, so you try to not look at it. To help, you grab a towel and maneuver it to hang over your medicine box, then strip out of your soiled clothing.

You let your body go on autopilot to start the shower and as you wait for it to heat up, you wash your face and brush your teeth. That alone makes you feel cleaner. You take your hair out of its ponytail - you washed it on Saturday, so you aren't going to rewash it, but you'd like to wet your skull to remove some sweat.

You kick your dirty clothes into a corner, then check the spray. It feels nice and hot, but not scalding, and you step in.

Almost immediately, your vision goes spotty and it feels like your brain is floating in ice water. You have to reach out with both hands and lean on the wall so you don't tumble over and you shuffle to it to press your forehead to the cool tile.

Maybe a shower wasn't such a good idea after all, but you feel so sweaty and sticky and gross. If you just stand and let the water wash over you, maybe it will help and you won't have to let go of the wall. Or you can just sit on the floor, but with how you are feeling that runs the risk of you not being able to get back up.

A knock on the door startles you and you have to push more against the tile to keep yourself upright.

You close your eyes tightly.

You think it must be Minnie. She's come to go potty when you've been in the shower before and you don't think she went before you left the hospital. You take a deep breath and center yourself before calling out, “Come in.”

The door opens and closes and the voice that speaks isn't Minnie.

“Are you okay?”

You shake your head because you are very much not okay in any sense of the word. You don't know how to put that into words or even if you want to. You don't want to go on the emotional rollercoaster again - you're so tired. You just want to get clean and go back to sleep.

You don't mean to space out, but you do. There's just so much going on and your body decides to only focus on remaining upright. So when hands smooth over your waist, you nearly scream. You know it's Matt, but it still scares you.

Why is he in the shower with you?

You try to turn around to question him, but his hands tighten around you, keeping you in place.

“Let me help you.”

The words shake your core. Your heart begins to pound in your chest and you know, if you had any tears left in you, they would be falling. Why is he doing this? Why is he here, asking to help you? Why is he pushing for it?

You feel him step even closer to you and his chest brushes against your back. He breathes your name into your ear, then repeats, “Let me help you, please.”

You try to shake your head and choke out, “You should be with Minnie.” Minnie needs him, she needs his help, not you. He is here to help watch over her, he even said so himself.

His nose bumps against your ear and you feel like your knees are going to give out. Why is he doing this?

“She's trying to give soup to her toys and watching her shows. She doesn't need me right now. You do. Let me help you.”

You push your hands firmer against the tile to keep your balance.

Matt has been with you all day, holding your hand and keeping you upright until you left his arms to go take a shower. You haven't asked this of him - he's been with you of his own free will. He's been so gentle with you, so caring, so comforting.

His hands move from your waist around to your stomach and slowly up to your sternum and very gently pulls you flush against his chest. He feels so firm, so steady, holding you up.

Do you really want to push him away? Do you really want to send him back to watch Minnie?

You can barely keep yourself standing. You're so dizzy. It feels like at any moment your body is going to give out and you'll collapse.

It feels nice to be held.

It feels nice that he is here for you, for whatever motivation he has.

You think of your daughter. How scary this must be for her and how terrifying it would be for her if you fainted in the shower after everything that has happened.

That must be why Matt is here with you. He's far more in tune with your body and you know that means Minnie is too.

He's trying to keep her safe by keeping you safe.

You need to think of Minnie, not yourself.

Matt whispers your name again and you drop your hand from the tile and place it over Matt's.

“Okay…” you whisper. “Okay.”

Lips brush your shoulder and his hands move to be at your ribs and there's a gentle pressure, silently asking you to turn. You take a steadying breath and start to rotate, slow as can be.

You can't look at him in the face. Despite everything, shame burns deep inside of you. You've always been able to do things yourself - you've always had to. Even if it feels good to have the help, to know Matt is going to catch you if you fall, the voice that lives inside you hisses that you're being weak. Pathetic.

You force your eyes open and the first thing you see are the scars going across his chest.

He has been through so much you don't even know about, just like you have been through things you haven't told him about, and to make this work, to make raising your daughter work, you have to trust each other. You have to trust Matt and he needs to trust you.

You slowly reach up and place your hand half over the scar on his right pec, then, to prove to yourself that you mean the beliefs in your head, you lean in and press your lips to the other side of the scar.

He inhales sharply and you feel like, for some reason, you made the right move.

Neither of you move for a minute, then Matt gently presses against you and guides you back into the spray of the shower.

It feels so good against your hot sticky skin and you find yourself letting yourself lean more into Matt and you give in to your desires and let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you do.

You feel him reach behind you to the shower caddy and you are happy you have been using bar soap, so you don't have to explain what is what to Matt. He lathers up his hands, then begins to wash you. He starts with your back and you decide to just zone out. You can't debate anymore, you can't let your mind go crazy - you're too tired, too sick to deal with much more.

Matt's hands slowly work over your back and sides. They dip down to your bottom and even though he's touching somewhere intimate, it doesn't feel lewd.

After your back has been washed, he tilts his head just slightly and his nose brushes the shell of your ear and he breathes into it, “turn around so I can get your front.”

It takes a few moments, but you do as you are told, and then you are leaning back against Matt's chest, head once again resting on his shoulder, just the opposite one this time. Your nose is a hair's breadth away from his jaw.

He relathers his hands, then starts on your stomach. He's so methodical about it and it feels almost hedonistic. You're not going to deny it feels good, but you know it's not in any way sexual or wanting. You just haven't been touched in so long, so anything will feel good.

He avoids your nipples when he runs his hands over and under your breasts and he doesn't linger, moving up to your shoulders, then down your arms. When he gets to your hands, he laces your fingers together.

“Do you want your hair done?” He quietly asks and you just barely shake your head.

“Just want to get it wet,” you mumble into his throat.

He hums in response and squeezes your hands, “‘m gonna need to turn you around again to do that and to get your legs.”

He keeps your hands in his and, to your great surprise, turns you slowly around like you are dancing, one arm over your head and another around your back. When you're facing the right way again, you open your eyes to see Matt smiling at you with the softest look.

In your chest, your heart clenches.

No one has ever looked at you like that before. No one. No one has ever treated you the way he has.

You don't think you care if it is because you are the mother of his child. Matt is a truly good and loving person and you want to bask in it, at least for now.

You let go of one of his hands and cup his jaw. He presses into it, closing his eyes and it's like you can feel any tension he might have in him melt away. You stay like that for a few seconds before he turns his head just slightly to nuzzle into your palm, then he lets go of you to drag his fingers through your hair. He makes sure to get your roots wet, but doesn't soak your hair. His nails dig slightly into your scalp and you try to not moan at how nice it feels.

“Hold onto my shoulders,” he directs you and you do as you are told. Only when you have a secure hold on him does he kneel down and begin to run his hands over your legs. He starts high on one thigh and works his way down to your foot, then repeats the process on the opposite leg.

You can't help but look down at him, watching as he delicately washes you. There's this deep urge in your belly, right above your core, to tangle your hands into his hair. A memory from your night together, all those years ago, flashes through your mind.

He had backed you against a wall and gotten on his knees to push your dress up and your panties down. Your thigh had been draped over his shoulder and he had eaten you out like a starving man before taking you to bed and making you cum two more times on his tongue.

You quickly banish the thoughts because not only do you know it's not the time for that, but that it was a one night stand between strangers. You don't want to make things any more awkward by Matt realizing he's having such an effect on your body, even if you don't intend for it.

You tell yourself to think of the pajamas you've picked out to wear instead - a nice, soft, baggy shirt and your favorite biker shorts. You picture the amazing blanket your daughter got you and how nice it will be to curl up in it and sleep.

You want that more than anything right now. You want to just sleep.

You focus on that until Matt is back in front of you and turning off the water.

“All done,” he whispers and you repeat the words back to him.

He helps you out of the shower and gets you wrapped in a towel before starting to dry himself off. You don't allow yourself to admire his body and focus on getting the water droplets off of your body and out of your hair.

Once you are no longer dripping, you bundle your hair back into a ponytail and pull on your clean clothes.

The little change makes you feel so much better. You always forget how just being clean can change your mood so drastically.

“Thank you,” you whisper once you are dressed. “Thank you so much, Matt.”

You turn to finally look at him, and he has redressed in just his boxers and oversized sweater. He steps towards you and cups your jaw, smoothing his thumb over your cheeks, “You don't have to thank me. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. You just have to let me in, okay? Please let me in.”

You close your eyes at his words and nod.

You can't promise you will let him in fully, but after everything he's shown you in such a short time, you think you can try. You can try to let Matt in.

“Okay.”

He lets you go with a small, sweet, and soft smile then cocks his head slightly to the right, “Let's get you to bed, I think someone has decided they want to join you for a nap.”

Joy swells in your heart and belly at the idea of cuddling with your daughter. You want to wrap her up and hold her and let her feel loved and protected. You know now how nice it is and words tumble from your lips without you meaning them to, “you should come too.”

His eyes go wide at the offer before that small sweet smile morphs into a boyish grin, “I would like that. I would like that a lot.”

a/n: Matt would not stop smooching. I could not hold him back from smooching.

tag list:

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@petrovafire39 @allllium

@anehkael

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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piedinthepiper · 2 months

Text

Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹

Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader

Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.

Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut

Wc: 4.3k

A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.

You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.

“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”

Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.

“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”

Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.

“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”

He nodded at her answer.

“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.

“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”

He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.

“I said it!”

You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.

“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”

The room was filled with sighs and groans.

“Ok, let’s make that two.”

No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.

“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”

He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.

“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”

Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.

“Thank you, y/n.”

She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.

“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”

One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.

“No worries, you know I got you.”

You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.

“Sit down.”

He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”

You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.

“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”

You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.

“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”

He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.

“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”

You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.

“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.

“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”

His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

“Too bad I have to fire you.”

“What?!”

Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.

“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”

You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”

You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?

“You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t test me.”

You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.

“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”

You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.

“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”

He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”

You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.

“Please, Mr. Park.”

He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.

“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”

You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.

“Wait.”

He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.

“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”

Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.

“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”

You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.

“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”

“He said what?”

Maria half whispered in shock.

“Ms. Sanderson.”

Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.

“Not only did he not fire you.”

She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.

“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”

You nodded.

“Switch to third position!”

The two of you switched.

“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”

You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.

“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”

“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”

She answered and held back a laugh.

“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”

“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”

Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.

“We were just talking about-“

“Boys, just boys.”

You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.

“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”

She scolded before walking away from the two of you.

“And fourth position!”

“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”

You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”

Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.

“Please, keep it down.”

She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”

He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.

“No harm done.”

He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.

“I get it.”

She simply said as you started walking again.

“Right?”

You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.

“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”

The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.

“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”

You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.

What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.

“Higher.”

He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.

“Turn around.”

He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.

“Do your second arabesque.”

You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.

“Now back to full position.”

You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.

“Look back at yourself.”

He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.

“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”

He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.

“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”

He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.

“Let me go!”

You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.

“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”

He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.

“Let me go!”

You tried once again. He shook his head.

“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”

You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.

“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”

You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.

“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”

You felt his hips grind against yours.

“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.

“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”

You sobbed. He hushed you again.

“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.

“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”

He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”

You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.

“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”

She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.

“Would they though?”

You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.

“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“

You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”

Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”

She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.

“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“

You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.

“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”

You looked up at her again.

“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”

“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”

You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.

“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”

She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.

Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You’re late.”

His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, still with a slight smirk.

“Come here, we have dancing to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.

“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”

He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.

“Good girl.”

He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.

“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”

He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.

“I’m going to make you a star.”

He whispered. You shook your head.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”

His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.

“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”

You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”

He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.

“Oh, y/n. Please.”

He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.

“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”

He turned serious in a split second.

“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.

“I see my next prima ballerina.”

He said and pointed at the mirror.

“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”

You sighed, looking back at him.

“Why would you waste it all?”

He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?

“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”

You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

His face turned into a devilish grin.

“Join me in my office.”

He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”

He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.

“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”

His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.

“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”

He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.

“Better than I ever imagined.”

He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.

But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.

“You like that? You want it, huh?”

“Yes.”

You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.

“God, I’m gonna-“

You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

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mit0bee · 10 months

Text

Twisted Wonderland boys with an S/O who's afraid of bugs (me too)

Did I literally just post 5 minutes ago? yes. am i posting again? yes. Stuff you should read: Bulleted HC's because i dont feel like writing an essay like i did with floyds tent hc, no beta we die like men, mention of multiple types of bugs Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Trey Clover, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt, Floyd Leech

(can be read as platonic but i did write it with a romantic relationship in mind)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Leona literally came running into the room thinking you had died or smthn, but no. you were screaming, standing on his bed....all over a small cockroach.

Bro actually sighed. like, a super big sigh, one that youd only get from a dissapointed mother while he stomped on the bug.

"Seriously, Herbivore? You took care of multiple overblots, but a single cockroach gets you all worked up?"

hes grinning so hard. youd want to punch him with how hard hes grinning.

all hes thinking is about the amount he can tease you about this

but, yes. he does get rid of the bug.

unless he was sleeping. then he forces asks ruggie to do it nicely.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

implodes the bug.

im not kidding.

he literally goes full on oceangate on that bug and implodes it

you didnt even have time to properly freak out before the bug was wiped off the face of the earth

"tsunotarou what was that sound?"

"nothing light of my life" *hiding bug corpse*

"are you sure bc i thought i saw a bug"

"nope. no bugs here? should we buy some bug repellant to ease your mind?"

".....no its okay."

you knew he somehow killed the bug.

and it only made you love him even more than you already do.

TREY CLOVER

catches the bug for you and lets it outside.

unlike the first two, he tries his best not to kill the bug.

he pulls the "how would you feel if i stomp on you and kill you?"

"if you killed me while i was a bug i'd thank you"

"you'd be dead, [name]."

"....id thank you from the grave."

he just sighs and shakes his head

probably convinces riddle to let him put anti-bug measures around heartslaybul for you (it didnt take much convincing riddle hates bugs too)

JAMIL VIPER

screams with you

probably set ramshackle on fire more than once while visiting you

you both have to call kalim or adeuce to come exterminate the single cockroach on the ground

again, that one tik tok sound where its like

"YOU KILL THE BUG, YOURE THE MAN!"

"SINCE WHEN."

thats a daily interaction between the two of you

if it happened at scarabia, he'd stay at ramshackle for the next month

literally would abandon kalim (or if he really cant be trusted he'd just bring kalim with him to make sure he didn't cause any problems)

VIL SCHOENHIET

screams with you x2

isn't as dramatic as jamil, but he definitely freaks out about it too.

about the bugs? no. about the bug bites.

again, youd have to call someone to save the both of you so you dont pass tf out and die while he gets eaten alive by a fruit fly

wym fruit flies dont bite? you cant be too cautious.

somehow always has bug repellant with him in the warm seasons

hes prepared and will NOT get any bug bites

EPEL FELMIER

zero reaction, or has a positive one.

"what in tarnation do you mean you hate bugs?! they help with fertilizer blah blah blah blah blah blah (i dont know farming stuff)!"

you have to CONVINCE him to get rid of the bugs, but he'll eventually cave and do it just for you

if you ask him to put up anti-insect measures he'd look at you like youre crazy

"[name]. bugs are actually really good for our ecosystem. back at home we always had to take care of the bugs, or else our crops would die."

"shut up. please. ily, but i cant deal with these bugs."

"okay okay okay fine"

will reluctantly set them up

overall a 4/10 for bug measures he will do it just not unless you beg

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

yells.

not in fear, but in anger because how DARE such a miniscule thing try to terrify the people he cares about?!

doesnt explode it like malleus

but strikes it with lightning.

yk his dorm card groovy? thats what hes doing to a little centipede.

expects you to praise him for protecting you

sure, its a given that he would, but he would very much so appreciate your thanks, and maybe a head pat or smthn

give him one.

now.

FLOYD LEECH

like trey, he lets the bug free

sometimes.

other times he kills it and chases you with the corpse

or keeps it alive and chases you with the living bug

if you REALLYYYYYYYYYY dont like bugs, like straight up sobbing, freaking out, then he wont but otherwise? have fun bro

someone has to seperate you two when you see a bug, because he will do something

sometimes if he's feeling generous he wont do anything and you'll be like "tf? what did you do to be so nice?"

"cant i just be generous towards my shrimpy?"

"no."

".....yeah i almost grilled grim thinking he was food."

"you WHAT."

all of this because of a simple bug

oh to be young and in love ----------------------- m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #trey clover x reader #trey x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #vil x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #no beta we die like men

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chxrryhansen · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s concepts 10/50

Character; Bucky Barnes

Kink; Piss Kink (i couldn’t help myself so i added pet play🙈)

Dialogue; “Look at the mess you made.”

Requested by; Anon (X)

As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, all dark content will be labled as such. Please read at your own risk.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

your throat flared in distress as your lips began to chap and crack, having been wrapped around bucky's cock for the past 30 minutes, it was fair to say they weren't in the best of shape.

you were knelt between his thick thighs, the hard floor, harsh on your sensitive skin as he worked at his desk above you. bucky had made you drink many glasses of water, more than double your daily amount. when you couldn't drink all of the glasses he had graciously gifted you with, he punished you.

claiming you were being ungrateful, that daddy was just trying to take care of you. you had promised you'd be a good girl for him if it meant getting out of a spanking, your ass still sore from last weeks punishment- one that he'd manipulated you into (as usual).

you squirmed, desperate to find some relief as your mouth warmed buckys cock, your bladder beginning to feel more full as time went on. noticing your discomfort, he slumped back against his chair, pushing his long brown locks behind his ear with one hand, his bicep flexing as he did so.

you whimpered, your tongue massaging the underneath of his length making him hiss with surprise as he growled

"i thought you said you were a good girl for me? i think you lied, pup. cause' im pretty sure if you were a good girl, you'd be warming my cock with no complaints like daddy asked you too, hm?"

he was quick to grab a fistful of your hair, pushing you deeper onto his cock as your thighs pressed together, desperate to make him proud.. and not wanting to embarass yourself by peeing all over his floor.

you looked up at him, your eyes pleading, tears streaming down your cheeks.. begging for even an ounce of sympathy. bucky sighed as he pulled you away from his cock, you were instantly opening and closing your mouth, swinging your jaw in circles as you tried to loosen up your locked jaw.

"go on, what's the problem with you now, puppy? what are those pretty tears for?"

"i really gotta' go daddy." you whispered, ashamed, your cheeks flustered in embarassment.

"go where, puppy?" he asked in return, a slight smirk on his face as he stroked your head gently, already knowing what the issue was.

"the bathroom, p-please daddy?"

"yeah? you gotta' go pee, sweetheart? you sure you can't hold it just a little longer for daddy?"

you shook your head desperately, your bladder already felt like it was about to burst, all of that water bucky had pressured you into drinking finally catching up to you, making you tense up in fear of leaking.

he sighed once more as he tutted in false disappointment "well alright then, go on puppy, go pee."

"oh thankyou, daddy! thankyou so much, i promise it won't happen again!" you gasped excitedly, seeming as your owner had been feeling generous... or so you thought.

you began to push of your knees in an attempt to stand when you felt bucky harshly pull you back down, this time sitting you on his thick thighs, straddling him. you looked up at him in alarm, eyes wide, wondering what you had done wrong.

your bladder suddenly feeling even heavier than before as you tried to prevent yourself from pissing out of fear, your thighs clenching tightly together. which didn’t go unnoticed by bucky as he spread your legs apart with both hands.

"where do you think your going?" he scolded.

"t-the bathroom.. y-you said i could go, daddy?"

"silly girl, puppy's don't use bathrooms now do they?"

you cocked your head, puzzled "i-i don't understand."

"of course you don't, dumb little girl, puppy's don't use the bathroom, if you need to pee so badly then do it, right here on daddys lap." he growled, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine.

he reaches down, pressing his hand against your tummy, pushing down against your bladder as tears of humiliation roll down your flustered cheeks.

“d-daddy, i can’t hold it, i really gotta’ pee.”you squirm desperately, your pussy throbbing with pain, or maybe, pleasure?

"stupid puppy, you gonna' piss yourself, hm? gonna' piss all over daddys lap? shh, sweetheart. let go for me, let go for daddy."

you let out a loud sob as the ache between your thighs is suddenly relieved, before you can even understand what's happening a heavy flow of liquid gushes out of your pussy, soaking through buckys lap and onto his extremely hard cock- which he had apparently just taken out of his pants.

he groans in pleasure "oh baby.. fuck, that's it, you were just so full, huh? so desperate you just had to piss all over daddys dick, what a filthy little puppy, look at the fuckin' mess you made."

he smirks, thrusting his hips into your own, grinding his cock into your soaked pussy making you sob harder in confusion. your brain having not caught up to what just happened.

bucky is quick to pull up your skirt and push your panties to the side, sliding his thick cock inbetween your thighs and rubbing his swollen tip against your entrance.

he swiftly pulls you down by your hips, his mushroom head only just pushing past your walls making you let out a pathetic moan…before a smooth warmth begins to fill your cunt. at first your confused, knowing bucky never cums that quickly, until you look down and see a steady stream of piss leaking out of you.

“fuck… my dirty fuckin’ piss slut, letting her daddy piss inside her silly, baby cunt. you like that? you like being a disgusting, hot, mess for your daddy? filthy little pup.”

you sob into his shoulder, humiliated yet so turned on as his hot piss floods your pussy, running down your legs and dripping onto the floor.

bucky shushes you as he codles your head, rubbing his hands gently up and down your back, his stream still filling you with his warmth, trying desperately to keep his moans and whimpers to a minimum, so as not to let you know how much he's enjoying himself. your silly, puppy brain is too dumb and confused to notice anyway.

"shh, shh, it's okay puppy, daddy had an accident too, see? no need to cry about it, silly girl.” he consoles you, pushing your head back down into his shoulder when you try to move, not wanting you to notice the shit eating grin plastered across his face.

he has you right where he wants you, dumbed out and dependant on him to make you feel better... just like he always does... and just like you always are.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes x you #tw: holding #tw: water sports #tw piss #chxrrys piss kink #chxrrys concepts

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rafayelism · 6 months

Text

3AM ; ex!wriothesley x fem!reader

(´• ω •`) | modern au where wriothesley is drunk. and your ex. so why is he at your dorm at 3AM?

skincare, cuddles, fluff, angst if you squint

clorinde 2:56 AM: back together with wriothesley already?

clorinde 2:56 AM: that was fast

you 2:57 AM: WDYM???!??!?!?!? im so over him

you 2:57 AM: why?

clorinde is typing…

you 2:58 AM: don’t tell me… he’s at the door again?

clorinde 3:00 AM: yep. said he’s here for his girlfriend

you 3:01 AM: DONT LET HIM IN

clorinde reacted with Whoops!

you 3:02 AM: tell him im almost home…

wriothesley is drunk. he’s slumped on your pink fuzzy toilet cover, eyes fluttering closed as you lean in the bathroom doorway.

“didn’t we break up?” you ask, laughing at the way he perks up at your voice, his hands encircling your waist as you step in between his legs.

“somethin’ like that,” he slurs, fingers curling around your waist, “but you always do my skincare before bed.”

you brush his hair out of his eyes, pinning his bangs back with a sparkly kuromi clip, ignoring the way he melts into your touch. you bite your lip and sigh as you wipe his face with a damp washcloth. his pretty blue eyes bore into yours as he scans your features.

“haven’t seen you in a week. why didn’t you respond to my texts?” he asks, cocking his head.

“hold still, wriothesl-”

“wrio.” he interrupts, grip tightening around your waist. “it’s wrio to you.”

you laugh, tilting his chin up, nails grazing against his neck as he complains about ‘those damn acrylics’.

“okay, wrio,” you smile, rubbing essence into his t-zone. “isn’t that a nickname reserved for girlfriends only?”

a beat of silence. he looks confused. “you are my girlfriend?”

you tap his bottom lip and he puckers them obediently, eyebrows furrowed as you apply a thin coat of cherry chapstick. “nope,” you say, patting his cheeks. “you broke up with me last week.”

“why would i ever break up with you?” he asks incredulously, wincing as you apply cool lotion on his eye bags. they look darker than usual, you note, gentle with your touch as your fingers linger.

“something about me distracting you from school,” you say. “you said you were too in love with me.”

“i would never-”

“listen, wrio,” you sigh, a finger on his lips as you silence him. “i don’t know. maybe you need some time away from me.”

wriothesley bites at your finger in retaliation and you yelp in surprise.

“ow! motherfucker,” you mutter, flicking his chin. “some ex you are.”

wriothesley ignores you, standing up from his position on your pink toilet. he’s sobered up now. “boyfriend,” he corrects, towering over you as you squint up at him.

“you broke up with me.”

he bends down to press his forehead to the crevice of your neck, mumbling into your chest. “then will you be my girlfriend?”

“you’re drunk.” you reply, hands reaching up to play with his hair. “we’ll talk about this tomorrow, wriothesley.”

“it’s wrio,” he whines again. “be my girlfriend.”

“tomorrow,” you sigh, shuffling the two of you over to your twin bed. “we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“will you say yes tomorrow?” he asks, curling into your side as you crawl under the blankets.

“maybe.” you mutter.

“not sleeping until you say yes.”

you laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “okay. sure. yes.”

he’s out like a light, snores light as you sigh into his hair. it’s not long until your eyes flutter shut as well.

clorinde 10:08 AM : One Attachment

clorinde 10:09 AM : cute

clorinde 10:09 AM: back together?

you 10:10 AM: yep…

#genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley fluff

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imbored1201 · 4 months

Note

Barca fem x reader

Beach day with everyone? Ideas: Mapi throws reader into reader, Lucy teaches reader how to play volleyball, volleyball comp between everyone?, alexia scolding reader for not applying more sunscreen, alexia being very mum basically, reader plays chicken, just beachy stuff! Not pressure I’m sure your busy writing just thought I’d suggest something

Beach Shenanigans

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Word Count: 1,330

You didn't want to be here, you would rather be using your day off to play video games, but you got dragged over here to the beach on a sunny day for team bonding.

You heavily despised Mapi right now since it was her idea in the first place, and she knew you didn't like her right now either. Considering the way she was grinning at you.

You glared at her the whole time, even when Alexia was putting sunscreen all over your face.

"Don't start with the attitude, Carino; have fun." Alexia tried, but you simply huffed and stormed far away from the team to make a sand castle.

Before you could start and open your little sandcastle toy set Lucy bought you, it was snatched away. "Hey!" You looked up and rolled your eyes, Lucy.

"Ona thinks she could beat me at volleyball, so we're playing a game, and I need five people." "I don't know how to play."

"Kid, I don't care, all you do is hit the ball and make sure it doesn't hit the ground. Now hurry up so I can get Ingrid and Fridolina. We need the tall girls; you go get Irene." You nodded as she ran into the water to where Frido and Ingrid were.

"Shit," you cursed when you saw Ona already talking to Irene. Lucy would kill you if you came back without her. Quickly thinking, you grabbed a rock and set it down in front of you, then sat down.

"Ow!" You yelled, and Irene, of course, having that mom instinct, quickly turned to your direction. "Irene!" You yelled for her, and she was quick to run to you. "What happened?" She asked as she kneeled beside you.

"I stubbed my toe because of this dumb rock," you pouted, and she patted your back. "You’re being dramatic again, aren't you?" She was already used to this; you did the exact same thing towards the end of training to get out of running.

You nodded. "Lucy told me to ask you to be on our team for volleyball." Irene nodded as she helped you up and led you to where Lucy was with Frido and Ingrid, who were drying up now.

You smirked as you turned around to where Ona was standing in disbelief and flipped her off.

—————

The teams were settled; it was you, Lucy, Irene, Fridolina, and Ingrid against Ona, Salma, Patri, Cata, and Pina.

“Look, do what I’m doing,” you copied Lucy’s hands, “or you can spike it.” You tried to look like you understood what she was saying, but you didn’t.

You didn't even hit the ball once. Mostly because, when you tried, Lucy would push you out of the way to get it.

You guys did win, though. "Losers," you told Pina and Patri. "You didn't even do anything," Patri pointed out. "I still won though, and you two are still losers," you shrieked as they tried grabbing you and ran off.

You went back to your old spot and went back to building sand castles, but of course, you couldn't get at least 10 minutes of peace.

Mapi came running up to you and decided to tackle you. "Ew, Mapi, get off. Your all wet," she got off you and stood up.

"Come on, let's go swimming." She jumped up and down like a child. You shook your head and threw the toy shovel straight at her face.

"That's it!" you shrieked as she forced you up and threw you over her shoulder. "Mapi! No!" You yelled as she full-on sprinted to the water. "Yes!" She yelled back as she threw you into the water.

Ingrid quickly grabbed you to help you stand. "Mapi! You could have hurt her," she said as she patted your back. "She's fine." Mapi patted you on the head. "I didn't want to wet my hair," you whined.

"We're at the beach, Carino; have some fun, this is one of those rare moments where Alexia lets you leave her side," she had a point.

"Only for a couple of minutes," Mapi nodded and grabbed you and suplexed you, getting another scolding from Ingrid.

You were done after one last push from Mapi, you rushed out of the water. Mumbling curse words under your breath.

"Bebe!" Alexia yelled for you. You put your innocent smile back on and walked over to her. She threw a towel at you and motioned for you to sit by her.

When you saw the sunscreen, you tried leaving again, but she grabbed your arm. "You're going to get burned if you don't put more on, and I don't want you crying the whole day over being sunburnt," she ranted, applying sunscreen to your face.

"Now go and behave," you nodded and pouted as you saw Patri and Pina over where your sandcastle was still in the process of being built, playing with the volleyball around it.

"Hey!" You yelled as you ran over there to push them away. "Let's play monkey in the middle," Pina said. "No," you told them sternly, sitting down to build your sand castle.

"Yes," Patri forced you to stand up. "Patri no," you whined, "yes, get it." She threw the ball to Pina, as you ran to get Pina, she threw it back to Patri.

That made you mad; now you were determined to get that dumb ball and throw it far into the ocean. You tackled Patri, who laughed, and threw it to Pina.

After six more dumb attempts at trying to get the ball, you gave up. "This isn't fair," you pointed out. "Don't be a sore loser," Patri teased.

"Let me build my sandcastle; I want to make a kingdom." They shook their heads and decided to start doing some keep-ups. Near your castle.

Again. Not even 10 minutes later.

"Kid! Get over here!" You heard Fridolina yell at you. You groaned as Pina lost control of the volleyball, and it landed straight into your sandcastle.

"Sorry!" She quickly said, and hid behind Patri. You grabbed the ball and threw it at Alexia, who was sun bathing now near the three of you.

Alexia sat up quickly and looked for the person who threw the ball. You quickly pointed to Pina and even pointed to your poor sandcastle. "Claudia! Ven aqui!" Alexia yelled, and you quickly stood up and ran to Fridolina.

"Yes," you told her, still standing far away from the water. "Get on my shoulders; we're going to show Mapi and Ingrid that just because they're a couple doesn't mean that they'll win every game together," Fridolina said, determined as she motioned for you to go closer to her.

"But Mapi is way stronger than me," you said as Mapi was already climbing Ingrid's shoulders. "And you're a better cheater; come on, put that cheating mentality to the test." You nodded as you got into the water and onto Fridolina's shoulders.

You giggled as you shoved Ingrid's shoulder with your foot. "Hey!" She yelled as she stumbled back a bit. Mapi lost her balance and fell into the water.

You and Frido cheered, and she jumped around with you. Mapi stood up and pushed you off. "Hey! Sore loser. Ingrid, control your girlfriend," you told the taller girl, spitting to get that disgusting salt water taste out of your mouth.

"Rematch cheater," Mapi poked your stomach, and you shook your head. "I won fair and square; I get bragging rights; now I'm tired; goodbye," you told her, and rushed out of the water.

Alexia gave you an amused look as you laid down on the towel next to her. "Mapi is a sore loser," you told her. "Maybe you're just a cheater," she said back.

"I won fair and square." "Yeah, sure, pack up; we’re leaving.” You cheered and jumped up to pack everything up.

For the next 4 months, Mapi and Ingrid did not hear the end of your little victory.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #fridolina rolfö #mapi leon #alexia putellas #claudia pina #patri guijarro #irene paredes #lucy bronze

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leclercstars · 4 months

Text

ROCKSTAR. [pt.4]

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando invites you to his hotel room after your text exchange. Warnings: 18+ SMUTTYY!! Cursing, unprotected sex, dom!Lando, daddy kink etc.

hope y’all loved this series 🙈

“Ughhhh,” you groaned as the light shone through the curtains in your hotel room. Somehow even after your late-night shower, your mascara did not come off. You looked like the poster child of “partied too hard last night,” with your hair looking more like a lion’s mane and clothes half on. In your hungover daze, you rolled over and saw the slew of text message notifications on your phone. Two stood out, “Attachment: 1 image” and “thanks!” from a number that appeared to be Lando’s. You typed in your passcode and clicked on the texts.

“Holy fuck!” you exclaimed, hurling your phone across the bed. You stared with wide eyes at the phone- hands covering your mouth in shock. You tentatively reached for the phone again as if it was a cobra that was about to bite you or something. Yep, confirmed. Those are Lando’s abs splattered with cum. You were laughing, mostly because this whole situation still felt so unreal to you.

“Well good morning to you too!” you responded. It didn’t take long for those three dots to pop-up on your screen.

“Just come over tonight.”

Well that’s fucking bold, you thought. But like- there was not a chance you would decline his invite. This is like having one-night stands with the annoying frat guys at school but 10x more justifiable. You were going to play it cool though, even though your skin was tingling with excitement.

“Time?” you replied.

“10 works.”

Early as hell for a booty call, when is his bedtime? You laughed to yourself.

At 9:00 p.m., he texted you the address of the hotel he was staying at, and you slipped into the only Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you owned. Thank goodness you had impulse bought that for the man you were sleeping with last month who didn’t care if you were alive or dead.

There you were. Outside Lando Norris’ hotel room door.

“What the fuck am I doing,” you muttered to yourself before knocking.

He answered quickly, “Come in,” his voice already sounding sultry and thick. You had the feeling that as soon as you walked in, no time would be wasted.

Boy, were you correct. He backed you up against the wall, and pinned your hands above your head. “Stuff like this okay?” his tone softened for just a moment.

“More than,” you replied before planting kisses and bites all along his jawline. You didn’t even make it to his lips before his hand joined the dainty gold jewelry around your neck, pushing you back against the wall. His surprisingly soft lips slammed into yours, his tongue quickly finding its way down your throat. He stripped you down with such an ease that you could tell this was far from his first time around the track. He ripped the lingerie you were wearing off your body.

“Oh come on! That was hot but that was so expensive.” you laughed between the kisses.

“I’ll send you money for 4 new sets, don’t worry about it.”

Oh that’s right- he’s like rich and is probably used to fucking ultra rich girls too.

He picked you up and tossed you back down onto the bed- much nicer than yours over at the Hilton. Your neck looked like a vampire had gotten to it- covered in bites and bruises. Him signing your tits should have clued you in on his affinity for marking up his territory.

His fingers slipped into your pussy, and you tightened around him with a loud moan.

“Fuck I don’t think anyone has ever been this wet for me. Glad you like how daddy has been treating you.” Lando growled as he pumped in and out of you, making you more and more obedient with each curl of his index finger against your g-spot.

He didn’t take himself out of you as his mouth made its way to your boobs.

“This is what I have been waiting for,” he said as he started circling your nipples with his tongue. Fuck- he is so good at teasing you. You squirmed desperately as he cupped your other boob in his hand.

“Fuck Lando, come on just put your mouth on them.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that without you asking for it,” his eyes glimmering with specks of lust as he looked up at you with his face smushed between your tits.

Wow, he looked so cute just right there, but you couldn’t wait much longer.

“Please daddy, suck on my tits. I want it- you so bad.” you whined, giving him the “fuck me” eyes that you had perfected after plenty of experiences just like this one. Those other guys had not been quite so dominant, but it was actually kind of fun being able to let go of all control. His warm mouth meeting your excruciatingly hard nipples was a pleasure like no other. He closed his eyes as he switched between them, biting and sucking. All that dominance really seemed to leave his body as he moaned into your boobs- almost whimpering. You were thrilled that your tits had that affect on him. It felt like you were taming him as you ran your hand through his curls and he fully relaxed himself into your chest. Did it always feel this good when guys did this? You loudly moaned and that seemed to snap him out of whatever boob-induced trance he was in. Thank goodness it did, because you were about to orgasm from his nipple play alone.

He grabbed you by the neck again, and that alone made you whine as his strong fingers pressed on the back of your head.

“You ready to be a good girl for me?” he was staring down at you, his eyes dark and hazy. You could tell he was thinking about what he was going to do to you, how he was gonna treat you like this.

“Yes, daddy.” Before you could even punctuate your words with a whimper- he had thrusted his entire length inside you. You gasped and sat up as his massive cock hit the back of your tight walls. He wasted no time as he started to pound into you. He pressed his entire naked body onto yours- as you buried your head into the crook between his neck and shoulder that looked like it had been sculpted by Davinci. Your nails dug into his back- and he cried out pleasurably- you knew you had to be leaving marks.

You had never been fucked so hard in your life, and certainly not by someone who looked like this. His perfectly tanned skin glistened as he made your pussy his, every single muscle in his arms on display as he held himself up.

He took one hand and started flicking and pinching your nipple- and that was enough to bring you right to the edge.

“Lan-Lando,” you were barely even able to speak- he had really created such a mess out of you with his attitude, the big dick might have helped too.

An orgasm shot through your body as he twisted your nipple- white sparks appearing in the corners of your eyes as you gave yourself to the ecstasy of it all,

“I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” Lando groaned as he pulled out of you.

You stuck your tongue out as he slapped his cock on it. You gripped the base and he shoved himself into the back of your throat- making you gag. That was what did it for him- as his hot cum filled up your mouth. His orgasm face was unlike anything you had ever seen before. Contorted so perfectly with pleasure, it was an image you never wanted to forget.

He flopped down onto the bed- no longer the dom-daddy that was fucking you five minutes ago. He grinned up at you, still naked. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of his ass, still a little woozy from his cock.

“STOP LOOKING AT IT!” he yelled with mock rage. You spiraled into peals of laughter as he grabbed the sheets to cover himself up. He was laughing too, looking like such a fool with his makeshift toga. He sat back up on the pillows and gestured for you to join him. He pulled the covers up and you rested your head gently on his chest.

“So should we like watch a movie or something? I think this TV has HBO on it.” He was smiling down at you.

You could stay in this spot for a while.

part 1 part 2 part 3

taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak @thewritingofspencerrose @formulaa-1 @supremebaddietrash @moonayu @aexitizen-ln4 @notturlover @maxv33rstappen @coco-bitch

#f1 #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #mclaren smut #mclaren boys #mclaren

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lizziesribbons · 4 months

Note

wedding wanda please!! she’d just fall in love w u all over again and then the night of ur wedding she just goes feral and calling u “my wife” “all mine” and she just gets super possessive and proud that u are now hers !!!

I Do |

PAIRING: WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEM! READER

summary: Wanda and you get married and then then Wanda goes all soft and fuckes you in your wedding dress ahhh

warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** fluff so much fluff 🥺 I'm going so aahwhwhwh, smut, praise ALOT OF PRAISE AHHH, name calling (Wanda calling you my wife, my love, princess, doll) I sobbed I wanna have soft sex with Wanda so bad I just know she will be the most gentle.

author's note: just reminding you guys that my first language is not English so if there's any grammatical errors PLEASE IGNORE THEM AND MOVE TF ON. Also I have no idea how weddings work so I did what I did

Word count: 2.1k

_______________________________________________________________________________

standing in your bridal gown, looking outside, and seeing Wanda standing there waiting for you, it was like a dream come true you've been waiting months for this day and now it was finally here. It seemed like everything around you just stopped. You could see nothing else but Wanda. In a white wedding gown, soon to be your wife. YOUR WIFE.

your dad came from behind holding your arm, breaking you from your gazing he said "Are you ready to go down the aisle sweetheart?" you took a deep breath and nodded as you both started walking.

as you walk down the aisle everyone cheers, "You are in Love" by Taylor Swift playing faintly in the background as you looked at Wanda and saw your whole world right there and then. It was like you were born to live this day and day alone. Everything seemed perfect everything made sense now.

Wanda looked at you and smiled. She smiled so hard that her cheeks started hurting. Tears in her eyes she saw you as you stood there in front of her, she wanted to kiss you so badly.

Clint was the one leading the wedding because Wanda insisted as he was the closest father figure to her and she loved him so dearly. "Wanda and y/n my two beautiful friends and my family members. I have known y/n ever since she was a little girl, she was always so compassionate and funny" he pauses and light laugh "So funny actually. She was always goofing around and her jokes oh my God I cannot forget them she was always joking about something or someone she would make me laugh in the darkest of times" he paused again looked at you and smiled. "let me tell you, guys, something, one time when y/n was wearing a pillow on her head as a wedding veil came up to me, she was only five at time. and asked me "Uncle Clint!!!! do I look good???" and gave me a twirl and haha I said "ofc you do sweetheart, who's your groom?" and she looked at me and rolled her eyes "Silly I don't have a groom I'm marrying my doll cause I love her the most" and then she forced me by giving me those pretty pleading eyes that still work to this day to come to her wedding and I went and now here I am standing in between y/n and Wanda at their actual wedding" with now tears in his eyes he looked at Wanda

"Wanda.. Oh, I've known Wanda for more than 10 years now I saw her grow up into this powerful beautiful woman she is now, I remember when she came up to me asking me if she should ask y/n out I told her whatever was in her heart she should just put it out, I saw there relationship grow stronger and stronger each day. They are the most for each other as one could be, I remember when Wanda asked me how she should propose to y/n I told her the same thing again that she should do whatever is in her heart, Wanda my pretty Wanda I love you and I'm so proud of you for the women you have become, my heart breaks into millions when I think about how both of you are not so little anymore but it screams in joy when I see you two together so in love with each other." that was it he stopped talking, he was softly sobbing now so are many of our friends and family members.

He speaks again after some silence clearing his throat, "We are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of Wanda Maximoff and Y/n Y/l/n We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends"

He turned to Wanda and said "Repeat after me.

I, Wanda take you, Y/n, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." and as Wanda did he looked at you next and said "Repeat after me.

I, Y/n take you, Wanda, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." "It's time for the vows," he says softly

You begin first "Wanda, darling, for so long, I wondered if I would ever find my love, my soulmate. Then four years ago, at another wedding, I turned to a friend for comfort, and instead, I found everything that I’d ever been looking for my whole life. And now, here we are, with our future before us, and I only want to spend it with you – my love, my soulmate, my friend… Unless you don’t want to.”

Wanda started tearing up but holding her composure she began, "Y/n, I thought this was going to be the most difficult thing I ever had to do. But when I saw you walking down that aisle, I realized how simple it was. I love you. Any surprises that come our way, it’s ok, because I will always love you. You were the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with."

(An: these vows are definitely not stolen from friends)

"just to be sure" he laughs "Do each of you take the other to be your lawful wedded spouse?”

Wanda and you say together with eagerness "I do".

After exchanging the rings he speaks again,

"By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss" and took a step back as Wanda eagerly came forward and kissed me softly and whispered "oh I've been waiting all day for this" making you laugh and tear up.

"Ladies and Gentleman, for those of you who have come to witness this union, it is my pleasure to present the newly united couple, Y/N and WANDA Maximoff."

there's that. you and Wanda were married. Actually married. the rest of the evening went great everyone danced laughed cried.

____________________________________________________________

(wedding night)

Your flight was tomorrow in evening so you and Wanda had the whole night to yourself, as you sat there on the bed taking off your jewelry Wanda came from the back rubbing your shoulders you instantly relaxed in her touch

She bent down so she could whisper in your ear softly "I want to fuck you in this dress" You could hear the smirk on her face, and as you hesitantly looked at her she immediately knew what you meant "I promise I'll be gentle no damage would be done to that dress" Wanda knew how much you loved that dress so she wouldn't dare ruining it

"I bought this just for tonight," she says holding a Scarlett strap out in her hand, it was just perfect not too big or too small

"lay down" she whispers in your ear and you did, she folds your dress to your waist and takes off your underwear Wanda was only in her undergarments she took them off and fastened the harness around her as she stood between your legs she caressed your legs and align the strap to your opening slowly entering you while maintaining eye contact as she watched your face confronted in pleasure, only light moans coming out of your mouth

you underestimated the size, it wasn't too thick but it was long. When Wanda was fully in she gave you a moment to get used to the strap

Her fingers entwined with yours, your foreheads touching lightly she thrusts inside you, slowly but hard, every thrusting was pulling a moan out of you as Wanda gasped in your ear throwing praises here and there

"you're doing so good princess"

"my pretty wife"

"oh baby you look so pretty like that"

she didn't stop the praises her thrusts only speeding up, not too fast just perfect sending you into ecstasy, her strap hit your g spot in every thrust "Wanda I'm cumming!!" without warning you came all over her strap.

"Can you give me one more doll? please?" looking at her pleading eyes you weakly nodded as Wanda gently fucks you through your orgasm, kissing your neck so softly she said "My wife only mine" She gasps her orgasm reaching her soon "All mine! cum with me baby," she says as she let out a moan collapsing over you, making sure not to put all her weight on you, you came soon after.

As you both came down from your high Wanda tried to get up but your arms stopped her "Noo please don't go" she cupped your face and said "I'll just be a minute princess" She got and undid the harness and threw it down, took your dress off softly and cleaned you up and herself

"here take some water baby" She gave you and glass of water and you drank as she took the wedding dress to the closet, peaking her head out from the closet she asked, "do you wanna sleep with clothes on or off doll?" "off please" you replied softly yawning

Wanda nodded and got out of the closet, as you made someplace in the bed for her she got under the cover immediately holding you, you lay your head on her chest clutching her like a koala

Wanda started caressing your back "Goodnight my beautiful wife", you smiled and muttered something out hoping Wanda would understand.

And she did. She always does.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #dark!wanda maximoff #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #mommy wanda #soft wanda maximoff

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13uswntimagines · 5 months

Text

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

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

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

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

July, 2015

We were both young when I first saw you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pretty spectacular isn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged again, your grin turning impish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged. “So?”

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

It was a fundamental part of your personality after all.

“Y/n I’m serious,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tay!”

“That was an amazing show,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Y/n,” Your lips quirked up, and you stuck your hand out for her to take, bringing it to your lips when she did. “And I’m your wildest dream,”

“Very smooth,” Taylor chuckled, pulling her hand back, and you could have sworn she had a little bit of pink dusting her cheeks.

“Smoother than a fresh jar of skippy,” You winked back, earning an ever louder giggle from the singer.

The room erupted into laughter, and you sent a proud smirk toward your sister.

She shook her head. “Don’t encourage her. She’s been practicing all week for this,”

“Well I can’t practice soccer, so what did you expect?” You shrugged as much as you could over the crutches. “I need to use my talents for something,”

“I think it was amazing,” Taylor cut in, grinning.

“See!”

Alex rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She had obviously been outvoted. It would be a fun story to tell your future significant other anyway.

“It’s very nice to meet you Y/n,” Taylor said, sobering. “I was happy you could make it, even if you weren’t on the squad,”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You nodded, your dimples on full display. “Thanks for the invite,”

“No way I would exclude one of my favorite players,” She hummed. “I was so sad when you got hurt,”

You felt heat in your cheeks, traveling up to your ears. Taylor knew who you were. She liked to watch you play.

You swallowed hard. “I should be up and playing again within the next couple of months,”

Your PT promised you that as long as you followed the plan, you’d be back and playing by the end of the season. With the way Paul was pushing you, you knew you’d probably be back sooner.

“Well, if you’re ever in New York let me know,” She said, pulling out her phone and opening the texting app before passing it to you. “I’d love to see a game,”

You took the offered item, quickly typing in your number. “Yeah, I’m sure I can get you and the squad good seats,”

She sent you one last smile before she turned back towards the team. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice to see you all again,”

You stared at her, as she waved and left, not actually believing what had just happened.

Your bad pickup line had gotten you The Taylor Swift’s number, and she wanted to see a game.

*****

September, 2015

We play dumb, but we know exactly what we’re doing

You never expect Taylor to actually text you. Hell, you weren’t convinced that the phone she let you text yourself from wasn’t a business phone.

But as it turned out, Taylor did text you.

First, it was a simple text asking about your recovery because a commentator had mentioned it. Then the conversation between the two of you just didn’t stop.

And you realized very quickly that you never wanted it to stop.

You found that Taylor was up at all of the weird hours you were and that no matter what she was doing, she was never too busy to say hello. Then texting turned into hanging out when you were in New York, Florida, or California, and before you knew it, it was a regular occurrence.

“I fucking suck at this,” You groaned, letting go of the guitar strings and flopping onto your back. “And my fingers hurt now. I’m pretty sure they’re bleeding,”

You held them up in the air pretending to examine them for the little flecks of red you were sure you would find there.

“No, you just haven’t practiced enough to build calluses,” Taylor said, and you could hear the eye roll in her voice.

“I got enough of them on my feet thank you,” You muttered, looking up at her through your eyelashes and wiggling your fingers at her. “I don’t need guitar string scars on my hands too,”

She caught your hand, smoothing it over her palm. “Don’t be overdramatic,”

“Me!” You exclaimed indignantly, holding your hand to your chest in mock offense.

“Yes,” Taylor smirked. “This isn’t soccer where you can flop about,”

You frowned. “I don’t flop,”

She raised an eyebrow at you, and you pouted. “Fine. I don’t flop often, and not unless it’s necessary,”

“Whatever you say,” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Sit up and I’ll help you,”

You pouted but did as she asked, pushing yourself back to sit, crossing your legs so you could hold the guitar like she had shown you the first time you did this.

Her lips ticked up at you, and she scooted so your knees were touching.

“Alright so g,” She said, positioning her fingers on the string, waiting for you to copy her.

You tried, moving each finger to the strings. “Like this?”

“Not quite,” She said, leaning forward and moving your pinky. “That one goes on the low e,”

You nodded, trying not to blush at how close she was to you. So close that you could smell her coconut shampoo.

“Now, strum slowly,” She said, leaning back and demonstrating.

You did your best to copy her, slowly drawing the pick across each of the strings, but instead of making the beautiful chord she was, it made an off-key wamp.

“I’m hopeless,” You said dramatically dropping your pick and flopping back on her fluffy carpet. “Worse than the whole Tom Sermanni debacle,”

She sighed and took the guitar off, maneuvering so she was sitting next to you. “I didn’t know you were so easily discouraged. I thought with all the sports, you’d have some resiliency,”

“I’m good at soccer,” You shrugged. “My fingers aren’t long enough or sting enough for guitar,”

“Were you good at soccer to begin with?” Taylor asked you softly.

You scrunched your nose. The truth was that you had been playing soccer too long to remember when you started. It was always a part of your life.

“No,” You said finally, biting your lip. “Alex absolutely destroyed me any time we practiced. She even stepped on my neck one time with her rain cleats and gave me a scar,”

You pointed to the small dimple just below your chin. Sure it had been an accident, but it ultimately was the reason you were a midfielder instead of a forward.

When you were young, Alex had always been better than you. More competitive, more ruthless, and she didn’t go easy on you in practice. It’s what made you such a good player.

“But you still play?” Taylor pressed, and your eyes were drawn to how her lips formed a thin line.

“Not as a forward,” You admitted easily. “Mom got tired of all of the bickering,”

Once you switched positions, you and Alex could work together instead of going head to head. It made you a lethal pair and let you both show off your talents.

It also saved your mother’s sanity.

“That’s not the point,” Taylor chuckled. “If you can change positions, you can play a chord on a guitar. You just need patience,”

“I wasn’t born with that,” You smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “Try for me?”

“Fine,” You sighed, pushing yourself to a sitting position yet again.

It was kinda scary how easily she could bed you to her will. All she had to do was ask.

“Put your fingers in position,” She said, leaning forward and checking to make sure they were on the right strings. “And then play each one individually,”

You grabbed the pick from the floor beside you and very slowly brought it across the strings. All of the strings sounded right except for the pinky.

“Press down a little harder,” She said, her tongue caught between her teeth as she reached over to help you. “And try again,”

You did as she asked, and this time, the G chord sounded through her apartment.

“Great job!” She cheered, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Thanks,” You cleared your throat and looked away. “Couldn't have done it without you, literally, but um… can we be done with me playing? I think my fingers are going to fall off,”

You turned towards her, not realizing how close you were, and nearly brushed her nose with yours. You pulled back, trying not to look at her lips, or her burning blue eyes, focusing on a very small freckle on her forehead because it felt like the safest option.

The two of you hated a lingering breath, and the air between you felt electric. You would have sworn that her eyes flickered to your lips, just as her tongue poked out to wet her own.

But she couldn’t be into you.

She was America’s favorite pop star, she was a fully-fledged adult while you were still basically a kid, and most importantly, she was straight.

“Yeah, we can do something else,” She hummed, reaching for the guitar and carefully pulling it over your head.

“Can you play something for me?” You asked, scooping Meredith up and settling her in your lap when she nudged against your leg.

For a cat that didn’t like being picked up and cuddled, she was very attached to you, except when you were playing the guitar.

“Sure,” She nodded, grabbing her guitar and plucking out some chords. “Any requests?”

You shook your head, smiling down at the cat as she kneaded her feet into your thighs and finally plopped down with a short purr. “Whatever you want,”

“Now that’s no fun,” Her lips turned up, and her head ticked to the side and she reached over to scratch the cat's head. “Come on, what’s your dream surprise song?”

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and more red bled into your cheeks. “Um… I don’t suppose you have the 10-minute version of All Too Well available?”

She chuckled and shook her head, a playful smile pulling at her lips. “Unfortunately, it was a rant that I don’t currently have memorized,”

“Hey, you asked for the dream song,” You held your hands up in defense, unable to stop yourself from laughing with her. “I think a lot of fans would agree to have that on their list,”

She shrugged, half in agreement and half in amusement. “I just think it’s funny that it came from a line I said in an interview almost 4 years ago,”

“Honestly, I think if a demo version of it did exist, it would have been leaked already. Some of your sleuthy fans are obsessed,” You said, your dimples popping out. “I couldn’t not ask for it,”

She snorted “Trust me, I know. It was a good shot, and if it did exist, I’d totally play it for you. I trust you not to be secretly recording,”

You hummed, trying not to think too hard about how she trusted you. How she would have played one of her most secret and tightly kept songs for you “But alas it does not,”

“No, not in a playable form,” She shook her head, her blue eyes shining. “Pick a new one,”

You bit your lip, rolling through the list of songs in your head. “What about State of Grace,”

The piano version had always been one of your favorites, and you so often got the intro stuck in your head.

“We can do that,” She smiled widely at you and began picking out the chords. “Only if you promise to sing along?”

Your nose scrunched. “You don’t want me to sing, I sound like a dying walrus, just ask Alex,”

You knew Alex would agree, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t do music anymore.

“Hum then,” She conceded, and you nodded.

You could hum- just not in tune, but you didn’t have to be in tune with Taylor.

You just had to be yourself, and you had never experienced that with anyone else.

******

December 2015

Barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings

That became my religion, listen

You eyed the oven warily from across the island, leaning into the cool stone countertop as Taylor flitted around you, pulling out various ingredients.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of the oven, it was just that you were not known for being a good cook. Actually, you were known for being a very not good cook.

You were banned from making anything in any of your sister's kitchens, and you rarely ventured to make more than Dino nuggets (which you still burned) on your own.

As long as you didn’t touch the controls, everything should be fine.

“You alright?” Taylor asked, setting a stick of butter on the counter next to you, her hand landing gently on your forearm. “You’re staring at the stove,”

“Yeah,” You blinked away from the copper appliance and towards Taylor, painting an easy smile across your lips. “I’ve just never made cookies before,”

She frowned. “Never ever?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. You didn’t want to tell her that any time your sisters had tried, it ended in charcoal (and an oven fire… twice) instead of ooey, gooey deliciousness.

“We were more of sports people than baking people,” You explained with an easy shrug. “Plus after a hard game, the precut square ones always do the trick,”

Her nose scrunched adorably. “But they don’t sell peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the little squares,”

“Kelley likes to bake. Jerry too. I’m not usually involved,” You answered with ease, taking the wooden spoon she passed you. “When Alex and I get together we usually get distracted trying new tactics and tricks,”

You didn’t want to say that you were always banished from the kitchen, at least until the oven was off.

A thoughtful look crossed her face.

This was the first time you had mentioned Alex by name and not followed it with a remark about something terrible she had done. The first time you hadn’t breezed by her existence in the greater context of the team.

She wanted to pry, to ask why there was a strange tension between you and your older sister, but she wasn’t sure you would give her a straight answer.

You were a master at spinning questions around (and running interviewers around in circles) when you wanted to, so the only way she would get the story was if you wanted to tell her.

And she so desperately wanted you to want to let her into your personal life.

“Austin doesn’t like to cook either, but we usually chat while I get everything ready,” She said.

“Alex and I talk better on the field,” Your head bobbed gently as you began to stir the ingredients in the bowl. “Soccer is our best communication method, and Kelley likes to feed us when we’re done,”

She opened her mouth to ask more, to try and understand why the only place you really opened up was the field, but your phone buzzed obnoxiously on the counter.

Your eyebrows furrowed as Emily’s contact photo popped up on your screen.

“You can answer it,” Taylor hummed, grabbing the spoon and bowl from you and carefully measuring in more ingredients.

You sighed. “It’s probably not important,”

“But what if it is?” Taylor shrugged. She didn’t want you ignoring your other friends to hang out with her, even if she was slightly flattered that you always gave her your undivided attention (except when you watched movies). “Answer it,”

“Sup loser,” Emily’s voice filled Taylor’s kitchen as your best friend’s face filled the screen, a wide smile showing off her dimples.

You rolled your eyes. She would never let you live down how the thorns had beaten the red stars. Badly. Even if you had gotten a banger of a goal on her yourself.

“Don’t rub it in,” You muttered, balancing the phone against a vase so you could keep stirring the batter, careful that you were the only person in the shot. “What do you want?”

“Just figured I’d see if you’d seen the roster for January camp yet,” She hummed, shifting forward as if she was trying to see what you were doing, just as Taylor’s hands plopped a stick of butter into the bowl. “Are you baking? Should I call the fire department?”

You glowered at her, beginning to mix the thick batter, your tongue poking out the side of your cheek in concentration.

You hadn’t had time to read your emails yet, not that you were worried. You just got so… distracted with Taylor. You wanted to be in the moment. You wanted to savor every second you got with the person slowly becoming your best friend.

“No, yes, no,” You said, eyes flickering towards Taylor and then back to the phone.“I’m supervised,”

She raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re supervised? Are you clothed?”

Red filled your cheeks at the implication, and you did your best to ignore Taylor’s raised eyebrow.

She had heard about your reputation, but having one of your friends bring it up right in front of her still made you blush. You didn’t want her to think that you had some endgame. That you were playing her.

You weren’t (even if the fluttering in your chest when you were with her made you want something… more).

You cleared your throat. “I’m with a friend Sonnett,”

It came out more biting than you meant for it to. More defensive.

She rolled her eyes, holding her hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, just be safe,”

“Fuck off,” You bit back, your teeth clacking, even as Taylor dumped the chocolate chips into the bowl.

“I love you too Y/n,” She cackled back, unphased by your sudden moodiness. She had seen it hundreds of times before when things in the pitch didn’t go your way. “See you in a few weeks,”

“Bye loser,” You muttered, unable to resist returning her jab.

A devilish smirk broke across her face, and you knew you would regret trying to tease her. “Bye y/n and y/n’s friend,”

“Bye Sonnett,” Taylor added, as you clicked the end call button, and from Emily’s furrowed eyebrows just before the screen ended, you knew she didn’t know who had said goodbye to her.

You anxiously rubbed the back of your neck, avoiding running your hand through your hair so you didn’t have to wash them… again. “Sorry about her,”

“She’s charming,” Taylor hummed, taking the bowl of cookie dough from in front of you. “Is she always like that?”

“No,” You muttered, as she carefully scooped out a bit of dough with a spoon and transferred it to a baking sheet. “She can actually be pretty sweet when she wants to be. It’s why Rosie loves her so much,”

Taylor’s head tilted to the side as she tried to follow your train of thought. Despite how much you talked about the team, you rarely ever mentioned the relationships within it. The team was intensely private in that way, and she respected that. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious… and you had technically mentioned it first.

“Are they dating?”

“No,” You snorted, shaking your head. They were two blind idiots in love, terrified of messing up a friendship. “They mostly just make moon eyes at each other right now. But hopefully winning a gold will give one of them the balls to finally make a move,”

“Like she thought you had the balls to bake naked,”

She knew there had to be a story there, but getting you to actually tell her would be a bigger challenge.

More red colored your cheeks, traveling up to your ears.

“It would be more likely for me to be naked, than for me to be baking,” you murmured, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. “That comment was probably more about the supervision. The last time she called I was sneaking out of a girl's apartment,”

Her eyebrow raised nearly to her hairline. “And you answered?”

It was hard to wrap her head around how commonplace your hookups were. She didn’t like how casual you and everyone around you were about them, especially since you were so young.

“She wanted to check in,” You waved a hand dismissively. “We lost pretty badly,”

She didn’t quite know how those two pieces fit together. “But she asked if you needed the fire department,”

You cleared your throat and looked away. “I… distracted a girl one time while she was cooking,”

Taylor swallowed her grimace. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous. Not yet anyway.

She was your friend.

She scooped a small bit of batter with her finger and reached out to smear it on the very tip of your nose. “Sounds pretty dangerous,”

Your eyes crossed as you tried to see the little blob, and Taylor laughed loudly at the expression.

“You didn’t just do that,”

Taylor sat back, smirking at you widely. “Oh, but I did. What are you going to do about it?”

You reached across the island, grabbing a small scoop of flour.

“This,” You said, rubbing the flour into her cheek with a grin. “It’s a little lighter than your normal highlight, but it suits you,”

She paused for a second before reaching for the flour container, dipping her hand inside. “Oh, it’s on now,”

She didn’t give you time to duck as she tossed a handful of flour towards you, and you caught a stick of butter still out on the counter as you dove for cover.

More flour powdered around you in a cloud as you peeked up from your hiding space, throwing a bit of soft butter towards her. It skidded across the counter, mixing with the sugar and flour smeared across the surface.

It almost made you feel bad, but you would help her clean it up.

“Missed me, loser,”

Your nose scrunched at the name, and your eyebrows furrowed.

You would not be a loser.

You crawled towards your left, sneaking around the island until you saw her right foot, and a smile broke across your face.

You dove for her, catching her around the waist, sending the bag of flour flying around you as you both fell, her peels of laughter echoing across the kitchen.

“I don’t lose,” You chuckled into her neck as flour fell around you like snow. “Flour fights and otherwise,”

Taylor rolled off of you, propping herself up on her elbow so she could look at you. “You’ve got a little bit of flour there,”

She gestured towards your nose, and you lifted your shirt to wipe the area she indicated. You felt the way her eyes were immediately glued to your exposed abs, and you took an extra second to wipe your face so she could look.

Her face was red when you dropped your shirt.

“Thanks,” You winked, and the red bled from her cheeks down her neck.

She snorted and shook her head. “That just made it worse,”

You wiggled your eyebrows and licked your lips for good measure. “That’s ok, I’ve gotten way dirtier anyway,”

“You’re too much,” She said, still giggling, watching your shoulder as she sat up. “Let’s get the cookies in the oven and we can clean up while they bake,”

You pouted dramatically. “What if I want to stay dirty?”

She rolled her eyes, already pushing herself to her feet. “You don’t get cookies,”

You wrinkled your nose. “Bummer,”

“Come on,” She held her hand out to you, and you took it, letting her pull you up.

She stole a hug before she let you go, directing you towards where the broom was.

And you couldn’t help the small smile pulled across your features, both at Taylor and the sight of the cats staring safely at you from the kitchen archway.

You would tolerate baking if it was with Taylor.

*****

March, 2016

If you’ve got a girlfriend, I’m jealous of her. But if you’re single it’s honestly worse.

You were never good at sneaking. You hadn’t even tried in high school because you knew you would be caught, and after you moved out, there was no one to sneak from.

Your North Carolina roommate didn’t care how late you were out. She barely even spoke to you at all.

You were pretty sure she hated you, but which of your Courage teammates didn’t?

Maybe the newfound freedom made you wreckless, or maybe you just didn’t care about changing your behavior when you were visiting your sister in Florida.

But whatever the case, Alex was waiting for you when you stepped back into her house, her arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face.

Part of you wondered if she had been standing there all night, or if she heard the door of your UBER shut and came down to greet you. You wondered if they turned the porch light on as soon as they got home, or if you just hadn’t noticed it when the car pulled up.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

You slowly turned towards her, kicking off your shoes, neatly placing them in the rack by the door, and pulling your sweatshirt over your head. “Out? Why?”

“It’s almost 2 am,” She grit out, her eyes flashing dangerously, but it did nothing to dissuade you.

You shrugged, hanging your sweatshirt on the hook right next to her. “I got distracted”

She scoffed, following you as you tried to brush past her. “You didn’t call or text, I was worried sick about you,”

You rolled your eyes.

It wasn’t like you texted her often anyway. The two of you barely spoke as it was, nothing besides Hey how was your day messages and one-word responses on your end.

It was weird to you that she was still trying to look after you. That she was still trying to be the protective older sister, when clearly your relationship had evolved.

You weren’t the toddler crawling after her wherever she went, or the 4-year-old tripping over every soccer ball she passed you.

You were a just barely adult trapped in the shadows of everyone’s expectation of you.

“OK mom, chill out. I was just… busy,” You snarked, wiggling your fingers at her as you headed towards the kitchen. “I had my hands full,”

She made a face at you.

There had been a time when she was more like your mom than your mom was. A time when you were closer to her than anyone else.

Now it felt like she barely knew you.

“Just your hands? I thought you had more game than that,” Kelley said from the couch.

“Trust me, I do,” You cackled, fist-bumping Kelley as you passed her, headed for the kitchen.

“Don’t encourage her,” Alex grumbled, nudging her as they both followed after you.

You again rolled your eyes, pulling out one of the stools at the island, settling into it, and running your hand through your wild curls. “Chill out Al, I made it here, ok?”

You didn’t like it when your hookups messed with your hair, but it seemed everyone was obsessed with it.

“Good argument kid,” Kelley chortled, grabbing a plate of rock shaped objects from next to the stove and holding them out to you. “Cookie?”

Your nose scrunched at the offered items, but you took one anyway, letting your shoulders relax as the tension between you and Alex mellowed.

She had been acting as referee for the two of you for a very long time, almost as long as they had been dating, and she was an expert at this point. It helped that you would open up to her more than you ever would to Alex.

You knew your sister and her girlfriend didn’t like your… relaxation method, but as long as your partner was into it and you were into it, you didn’t see a problem. It was better than some of the things you could be doing.

“You know, eventually you’re going to have to stop this,” Alex muttered, sitting down at the counter beside you.

“Why?” You asked, examining the cookie.

She laid her phone on the counter and slid it towards you, “Because the team aren’t the only people who have picked up on it now,”

You glanced down at the device.

It was a Twitter feed of pictures of you and the girl you had just left. You reached out and scrolled, frowning when you saw all of the text tweets below it.

@randomy/nfan: it’s unfair how ridiculously hot she is.

@randomy/nfan2: no one needs to wipe their face that many times during a game

@randomy/nfan: Did you see how she stuck her tongue out each time she ran her hand through her hair? It should be criminal.

@randomy/nfan3: she totally winked at me after she gave me her jersey. Too bad I wasn’t the one she took home after.

@randomy/nfan5: can confirm she winked after she took her jersey off. She even flexed for the photo.

@SoccerUpdates: Y/n Morgan spotted with Orlando rookie Sam Witterman after the game.

“The fans need to mind their own fucking business,” You grumbled, sliding her phone back. “I didn’t flex for her either,”

Alex raised an eyebrow at you. “If it wasn’t for her, who was it for? Because Sam wasn’t even paying attention,”

You looked back at the cookie, using it to hide the sudden heat in your cheeks. “I’m an adult and I can do whoever or whatever I want,”

You hadn’t been flexing for the fan. You had been flexing in case your favorite singer was watching the game like she said she would be.

It was frustrating how obsessed the media was with you sometimes. The fans didn’t know the line between who you were on the field and in interviews and who you were off the field. They didn’t understand the concept of privacy.

“You can,” Kelley agreed, ignoring the glare Alex sent her way. “But aren’t you concerned that you give a part of yourself away each time you sleep with someone?”

Your shoulders lifted and then fell. “It’s not like I receive,”

“What?” Kelley frowned.

“Half the time, I don’t even take my pants off. It’s not like they notice,” You mumbled, taking a bite of the cookie and wrinkling your nose at the crumbly texture of oats and coconut. “Why is everything in your house vegan?”

“I never pegged you as a stone top,” Kelley breathed out, shaking her head. “And my cookies are vegan because your sister is vegan and enjoys being able to eat the things I make,”

“You just don’t like that she won’t let you kiss her when you’ve had anything that actually tastes good,” You hummed, taking another bite of the too-dry cookie. “It’s just easier,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed, a warning bell sounding in the back of her mind. “Easier?”

You nodded, swallowing the sand-like texture in your mouth. “It’s hard to find clothes in the dark without waking anyone up, and that makes sneaking out more difficult,”

“You don’t even stay long enough to say goodbye?” Alex grimaced.

“No,” You said dismissively, reaching for another cookie and taking a bite. “Then they’d have a chance to try and get me to stay,”

Alex could only stare at you, wondering where the shy kid who had been terrified to ask your high school crush out went. When had you gone from sweet and reserved to a Fuck boy who didn’t even tell the person they were sleeping with goodbye?

“Jesus,” She scoffed, running a palm across her face. “You’re only 18, you shouldn’t be participating in hookup culture,”

“Like you weren’t when you were at Berkeley,” Kelley chuckled. “Y/n is just having her frat boy era without a frat. Let the kid live,”

“Yeah Alex, let me live,” You intoned, copying Kelley.

Alex glared at the side of your head, much like she did when you were young and being a brat. “Fine then. Was she good?”

You tilted your chin toward her incredulously. “You really want to hear about my hookup?”

“Well you wanted me to let you live,” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. The stance that always made younger you cower. “So tell me, was she good? Did you enjoy yourself?”

You raised an eyebrow at her, staring for a long second before shrugging and taking another bite of your cookie. “She was fine, like the others,”

“Just fine?”

“Her nails were really long, so she gorged my back,” You said, turning and pulling the collar of your shirt down so she could see the angry red marks at the top of your back. “I was worried I was going to bleed all over my shirt,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You had to be the good one to get marks like that, and the idea that you were… talented in that area almost made her want to vomit. As did the notion that your… skills probably came from… practice.

Lots of practice.

“So you ditched us for a just fine hookup?” Kelley asked, and it made the guilt bubble in your stomach.

That was the only good part about playing Orlando… that you got to spend time with your sister (something that was rare after she left you for Berkeley).

It was the only real hope you saw at mending the bridge that covered the crater that her departure left in your relationship.

And you sighed, sinking on the stool, your shoulders hunching. “I didn’t think I was going to be out as late as I was. I’m sorry,”

“Ok, but why go for a hookup anyway?” Alex asked, her hand finding your back and rubbing circles.

You took another bite of your cookie, chewing it slowly and swallowing hard.

You weren’t sure you wanted to open up. That you wanted to accept her comfort or her touch, but pushing her away felt… cruel.

“Paul is trading me to Chicago. He said I’m not progressing, and I don’t fit his scheme. I went out because I needed to blow off some steam. I found out right before the game,”

The words felt like lead in your mouth. He hadn’t even had the guts to tell you himself. Instead, you found out from your manager, with his comments on your performance.

“That sucks,” Kelley reached across the island to take your hand.

“Paul is a fucking asshole,” Alex grit out, her hand falling from your back. “You’re better off honestly,”

There was something else in her voice that you couldn’t quite place.

“Chicago is going to be lethal with you and Chris,” Kelley hummed, squeezing you three times, before turning towards the cabinets and pulling out a plastic bag. “These have eggs and milk. I made them for you. You deserve it.”

You instantly dropped the cookie in your hand and reached for the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip goodness. “Why didn’t you pull these out sooner?”

“Because you snuck into our house at 1:30 am,” Kelley shrugged, leaning on the counter. “After ditching us,”

“I wasn’t trying to ditch you,” You mumbled, pulling a cookie out of the bag and biting into it. Your eyes slid closed as the chocolaty peanut butter played across your tongue.

They were nearly as good as the ones Taylor had made you the last time you saw her.

“You were just trying to get laid so you could forget your problems,” Alex finished for you, frowning. You rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone out from your back pocket and snapping a picture of the cookies.

Alex sighed heavily, reaching over and brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. “I just worry about you,”

She promised your parents and older sisters she would look after you when you decided to forgo college and join the league(even if the 2 of you weren’t as close as you once were). She didn’t think letting you sleep your way through the teams was healthy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign of something deeper going on with you.

You were always so shy growing up. Even after you told them that you were into women, you had never been so… overt with your interactions. You were so sweet with the girl you took to your senior prom, so nervous around any girl you really liked.

She wasn’t sure when that changed.

“I’m doing fine,” You said, taking another bite of the cookie. “You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t,”

“Promise?” She asked you, more softly.

Every time she looked at you, she would see the tiny 4-year-old running after her, telling her you were fine after you skinned your knee or elbow. Or 7-year-old you swearing you were good to go after you broke your arm surfing a too-big wave.

“With my pinky,”

You held your finger up for good effect, and she linked hers with yours.

“You guys are disgustingly adorable,” Kelley hummed, sliding you a glass of milk. “Now eat up, I want to actually sleep tonight,”

OoOoOoO

Twitter wasn’t one of Taylor’s favorite social media apps. It was a pit of anxiety-inducing posts and hateful opinions, and she genuinely made an effort to stay away.

But after watching your soccer game, she couldn’t help herself.

It had been a humid night in Florida (according to the commentary team). You kept lifting your shirt to wipe the sweat out of your eyes, and your curls had been wild by the end of the second half.

The grainy stream hadn’t been clear enough for her. It hadn’t done your abs justice so Taylor had relented to the bird app. To pictures taken by people who were actually at the stadium, and things spiraled from there.

It should have made her feel… shameful that she was scrolling through photos of you, looking for one that showed the moment you lifted your shirt and maybe when you gave your jersey away. She should feel bad that she was looking for the moment you put your abs on full display.

But she didn't.

She had been slightly obsessed since you sent her a bathroom mirror picture after the game the US had played against Canada, your shirt pulled up to your chin to show off the perfect impression of a cleat on your skin. And getting to see them in person in her kitchen had only made things worse.

Maybe it was slightly more than slightly…

If you didn’t want her to look, you certainly wouldn’t have sent her the picture, but still. With the parade of women that always seemed to be surrounding you, she wasn’t sure that you had really given it that much thought.

She sighed, scrolling through the feed, pausing on a picture that had been taken of you after the game.

She really shouldn’t be this invested in you, not when your reputation was that of a player.

She didn’t want to be played. Not again.

But you were different with her. You weren’t the arrogant soccer player posing for photos, or winking at fans. You were sweet and charming and it took almost no effort to make you blush.

And… she groaned, swiping to the next picture.

Your arm was slung low across a girl's back as you guided her into a car, a wide smirk pulling at your lips. It left nothing of your plans to the imagination, but maybe that’s why you had done it.

You wanted to world to think you were a fuck boy. You wanted them to believe that you had an impenetrable shell.

She rolled her eyes.

She knew differently.

That didn’t mean that it didn’t send jealousy through her veins when she saw the pictures, even if she didn’t really have the right to be jealous.

She sighed again, scrolling past the pictures.

At least she knew that you were still technically single (though that might have actually been worse).

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she grabbed the message from the top of the screen.

It was a picture of a bag of cookies.

Soccer Hottie: Kelley made me cookies. They weren’t as good as yours

She smiled at the screen, her jealousy melting. Though she was slightly disappointed a picture of your face hadn’t been included.

I can make you more when you visit me

Soccer Hottie: I’d like that 😘. I’ll have to check my schedule.

At least she got a part of you that none of your hookups did. She got to see the things you cared about. She got to see your likes and dislikes.

That was more than any of your hookups would ever get, and that made it easier to be your friend.

*****

June 2016

I watched from a distance as you Made life your own

“You know I hate this game,” You sighed, resting your chin on your hand and staring at the Scrabble board.

It was the same expression you made when you stared at the stupid app Taylor made you download so you could play her, except no one was ever there to heckle you while you tried to figure out what your next move should be.

She also didn’t rush you or set a timer so you couldn’t take all day.

“It’s better than Monopoly,” Emily shrugged, extending her legs so her feet were resting in Rose’s lap. “Last time we played there was a fistfight,”

Rose hummed, squeezing Emily’s foot and shifting the tiles on her little ledge. “That’s why we switched to monopoly deal,”

Board games were a staple during the downtime at camp, and this one was no different. With Rose (and Emily by default since they started dating) as your roommate(s), you had been roped into a quick Scrabble game while you all waited for team bonding.

She reached out and placed 4 of her pieces, forming the word Focus around your word Cracker.

You frowned. You had been planning to make the word cutter, but now your c was gone and there was no way for you to connect to Emily’s R on the other side (though you weren’t sure exactly what word she had created considering the two center letters kept flipping in your head).

You liked Monopoly better. It didn’t make your head hurt so much.

Plus it was one of the few games where you always kicked Alex’s ass.

“I still think you two have an unfair advantage over me,” you muttered, puffing out your cheek and pulling out your phone. You smiled as you scrolled to a very familiar contact.

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” You shot her a wide smirk, as the ringing of the FaceTime app stopped and the little boop that meant your favorite person had answered sounded through the room. “Hey Scrabble queen,”

“Hey, what’s up?” Her lips ticked up in a smile that she only used when she was with you, and you saw an unfamiliar painting and a microphone behind her.

She must be at the studio.

You knew she was working on an album, though you’d been reluctant to hear any spoilers. You didn’t want to hear about a new… love interest. You didn’t think you could take it, and you needed to focus if the team was going to do well at the Olympics.

“I need your help,” You pouted at the phone, making your eyes as big and innocent as you could. “Im shitty at scrabble and I don’t want to lose to Rosie and Emily,”

Taylor rolled her eyes at you.

“Hey! Why do you get to phone a friend!?” Emily exclaimed, reaching for the phone, and the semi-familiar voice on the other end. “Is it the person who was with you last time I called?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, shifting so she couldn’t steal your phone without looking at your tiles (thereby disqualifying her). “Because I’m dyslexic,”

“You’re getting better actually. You got a triple word last week,” Taylor said, and your eyes darted back toward her. You hadn’t told her it was really Kelley who saw the triple word yet. “Can you show me the board and your letters please?”

“You didn’t answer my question, is this mystery girl?” Emily cut back in, even as Rose held her foot so she didn’t try to tackle you to see who you had called.

“She’s not a mystery,” You scrunched your nose and flipped the camera, giving Taylor a good view of the board. “She’s my friend,”

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Then what’s her name, you know so we can call her something else?”

“Taylor,” You answered with an easy shrug, not really thinking about it.

You doubted they’d make the connection anyway.

Not unless Taylor said something incriminating, and you doubted she would considering how careful she was.

“Ok, I think I’ve got it. I’ll text you the next couple of moves,” Taylor said, looking sideways over the phone and nodding. “I’ll talk to you later, I’ve gotta go,”

“Thank you!” You flipped the camera around and sent her a goofy smile.

“Anytime,” She mirrored your smile and blew you a little kiss. “Talk to you later babe,”

You caught the kiss and waved, staring at the phone for a very long second even after it had gone back to your Lock Screen.

It made your chest feel warm that even when she was busy, she answered your calls. That she always made time for you.

“If she’s your friend, then you have one hell of a crush,” Emily said, drawing you back to the moment.

You blinked back up at the pair, the warm feeling in your chest replaced with sudden anxiety. “What?”

“She called you babe,” Rose supplied, her voice very soft like she was afraid to startle you.

They all knew of your… reluctance to settle down, and she couldn’t help but feel like there was a deeper reason behind it that they were all overlooking.

Emily snorted, not catching the hesitance in Rose's voice. “And you stared at the phone after you hung up for a solid 30 seconds,”

Red immediately flooded your cheeks, and your hand clenched at your side. “We’re just friends,”

Even if you enjoyed the flirting and your feelings were slowly surpassing the boundaries of friendship. She would never want someone like you.

You were just a kid compared to her, bumbling your way through your career and fucking it up at every turn.

Plus she was straight.

It was too cliche for you to handle.

“Ok,” Rose conceded, shooting Emily a very serious look to not push you more.

It never turned out well when they pushed.

“It’s still your turn,” Emily said, her voice also going soft, gesturing towards the scrabble board. “Let’s see how good the mystery Taylor really is,”

You hummed, pulling up the text, and ignoring the little Good luck 😜 that accompanied her instructions.

Your tongue made its way between your teeth as you read the step-by-step text, each letter separated by a double space, and you slowly reached for the letter tiles and slid them into place, forming the word Resonate with the help of two of Emily’s words and one of Roses.

“Ha, a quadrupole word,” You cheered, typing out a thank you text to Taylor as Emily groaned.

Rose rolled her eyes, still smiling softly at you.“And let me guess, it’s the easiest one she sent you?”

She hadn’t seen you this… engaged in a long time. She hadn’t seen you so… happy, not since you started playing at North Carolina, and she hadn’t seen you show more interest than a quick one-night stand.

“Yep,” You popped the p and smiled wickedly at them. “read it and weep losers,”

“You’re only winning because of the mystery scrabble queen,” Emily pouted. “What, does she have an entire empire made of word blocks too?”

“She’s not a fucking mob boss. She’s just a friend, and I told you, it’s fair because it levels the playing field,” You shrugged, failing to mention that the butterflies Taylor sent swirling in your chest were much more than friendly.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t beaten you each time you played this game before. “Now make your move before I sic the time turtle on you and you have to draw a wicked wango card,”

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Since when did you watch Friends?

“Yeah! I thought you hated anything remotely scripted besides superhero movies and Indiana Jones?” Emily added, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s how you get out of literally every movie bonding night,”

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and red bled into your cheeks.

You hadn’t really minded the comedy eating kettle corn with Taylor in a massive pillow fort, though Meredith and Olivia pawing at your bowl while Taylor pouted at their adamant ignoral of her had made it all worth it (they had been very unhappy about the quick baths she made them take because they were covered in flour from your little food fight).

Plus you thought that Bamboozled was probably the only game show that wouldn’t put you to sleep (you agreed with Joey that it wasn’t that complicated).

“Friends doesn’t really have a plot,” You muttered, looking down at your phone and moving your tiles around so you didn’t have to think about your next move. “And it’s funny so it’s not so bad,”

Rose made a low noise, poking Emily with her toes, telling her not to push.

She had a feeling that your sudden interest in the show had more to do with who you were watching it with than the comedy. And she wouldn’t be the one to meddle in what was your first real relationship.

She wouldn’t let Emily either.

The wrath that would meet them from all the vets and your older sister was not something she wanted to deal with.

“Come on Sonny, make your move,”

******

July 2016

But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away

2016 was the summer of the apocalypse.

There was no other way to put it.

You never thought a singular PK could turn your team and the rest of the world against you. But it did.

You only got to play the last 10 minutes of the game, and your only job was to make the penalty.

But you missed it. Badly.

Jill made it clear before you were even back in the locker room that you would need to earn your way back. Roary had benched you as soon as you returned to Chicago. But the worst was the media, and the slew of hate that had been unleashed on you the second your foot left the ball.

It rivaled the hate Hope was getting, and that was saying something.

You blew out a long breath, took another swig of your lukewarm beer and slowly kicked the ball back toward the PK spot.

One of the few benefits to Chicago was that the high school soccer field was within walking distance from your shitty apartment. The other was that the high school soccer field stayed open all night and had good lighting.

You took another swig before gently setting the bottle next to four of its already empty friends, and setting up for the kick. It should have concerned you that the ball was slightly blurry, or that you were a bit wobbly on your feet, but it didn’t.

Not when you so clearly saw your path to regaining your future.

You rolled your neck, squaring your shoulders and looking from the ball to the net. You could imagine the thousands of people screaming, and the keeper jockeying in her line, waiting for you.

You took another breath, leaning forward. You shuffled your feet, starting the countdown in your head.

But just before you got to 1, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling your focus from the upper right corner of the net just as you fell into step for the pk. The ball connected with your foot at the wrong angle, and was sent flying into the stands instead of towards goal.

“Fuck,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair and pulling the offending device from your back pocket.

Blondie👱🏻‍♀️🎤: Hey, you ok? They said you weren’t on the bench, but didn’t give a reason.

You couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at your lips when you saw Taylor’s contact on your Home Screen, even if you had to squint to make out her message.

She was one of the only people who was still talking to you after the Olympics. One of your only friends who hadn’t ditched you.

She liked you for you, and what you did on the pitch didn’t change that. Maybe that was why you were so drawn to her. Why the hangouts had gotten more frequent?

Maybe you just liked hanging out with her.

You took three steps back towards your drinks, plopping down and grabbing your beer.

I’m good. Cosch bwndnwd me bdcajwe hd thihls I zuck.

You swallowed the last of the sudsy liquid as you hit send, lining it up with the others and reaching for a new one as 3 little dots appeared.

Blondie 👱🏻‍♀️🎤: ???

You sighed, cracking the bottle open with your cleat and typing out your response. Your fingers slipped across the screen, and it took you a second to find the send button.

Hd said I’k not aolowed badk pn the vrncn until I deserve to bd a profrsakonal spcver player abIN/

The message instantly went to read, but the three little dots didn’t appear again.

You shrugged, taking a long sip of your beer (nearly downing the entire thing) before you placed the bottle next to its partners and began to kick a new ball toward the penalty spot, your phone dangling dangerously between your fingers.

You let out a long breath, lining up for the shot, your eyes lifting from the fuzzy ball to the equally fuzzy net.

But your phone buzzed in your hand before you could step into the kick. You lazily held it up to your face, clicking the accept button when you saw the FaceTime logo.

“Whad upp T-Swizzle,” You smiled dopily at Taylor’s face as she appeared on the screen, the stadium lights glinting off of your glassy eyes.

“Hey, are you ok? Your texts were kinda crazy,” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing with worry at your slurred speech.

“‘M great!” You cheered, spinning in place as if to show how great you were.

Her frown deepened. “You sound drunk?”

You rapidly shook your head. “‘M nottt,” Your voice caught on the last t, and you quietly stared at her for a long second before your dopey smile was back. “‘M practicin’ PKs. Wanna see?”

“No, Y/n,” She said, trying to sound stern. But it was too late, you had already flipped the camera around to face the goal.

“Those arrr the ones I made,” You slurred, the camera shaking violently as you tried to focus on each of the balls that had made it to the back of the net.

The camera then suddenly jerked, panning towards the bleachers. “And those arr the ones I missed. I missed a lot. I suckkkk,”

Several balls were haphazardly strewn across a set of rusting bleachers and lying by a dilapidated fence. But what really caught Taylor’s attention was a silver and gold cardboard box and a pile of empty bottles sitting at the gate.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew that things had been difficult for you, but she never expected you to get drunk and go to a random field at night. Or to make your way through a case of beer like she was sure you had. “Y/n turn the camera around,”

It took you a second to flip the camera back around, but your now somber face met her when you finally got it.

She tried not to think about how adorable your pout was (an expression you rarely ever used when you were sober).

“How many beers have you had?” She asked you seriously.

“Few?” you shrugged, squinting towards where the box was and biting your lip. “Almost gone,”

“I can see that,” She breathed out, trying to stay calm. “How big of a pack did you buy?”

Your grin returned, and you threw your arms out wide, spinning in a circle. “The biggggest,”

“Y/n,” Taylor sighed again, waiting for you to get back in frame. “Where are you? I’m gonna send a car to pick you up,”

“No. I gotta clean up annd practice so I can play,” You said, looking away from the camera, biting your lip. “I gotta nooot suckkk,”

“You don’t suck,” Taylor said, already pulling up her contacts. “Tell me where you are, and I will help you clean up before the car arrives,”

The line went quiet for a long second, and she looked up to see your eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t sure if you were just trying to think, or if you were trying not to cry (it was hard to tell with how red and glassy your eyes were).

“Y/n?”

“I don’ suck?” Your bottom lip wobbled.

She shook her head.

“No. You missed a shot. It happens to everyone,” She repeated your own words back to you, ones she had heard you speak hundreds of times. Ones she meant with all of her heart. “Now tell me where you are. I’m worried about you,”

You buzzed your lips. “The high school field by my apartment,”

“Ok,” She said, feeling the knot in her chest loosen as she scrolled through her contacts and sent a frantic text to her security. Jason would send someone to get you. Someone who would keep you safe. “I have someone coming to get you,”

“I gotta clean up,” You poked your bottom lip out, stumbling over to the ball bag and struggling to get it open one-handed.

“I’ll stay on the line with you while you do,” Taylor said, keeping her voice soothing, and calm, even as she sent more frantic texts to her security and assistant moving her schedule around for the next few days. “And Tony will help once he gets there,”

You paused, from where you were sloppily gathering up balls and looked at the camera with wide eyes. “Iron man?”

Taylor resisted the urge to roll her eyes or coo at the adorable expression (though she did store it away in her memory bank for later recollection). “No, not the same Tony,”

You frowned, stumbling towards the stands and using a foot using push the balls to the bottom so you could gather them.

You tripped as you stepped up onto the silver seating, intent on getting the stray ball you had sailed to the top of the stands. “Nashatasha wass cuter anyway,”

“Yeah,” Taylor said slowly,her eyes scrunching as you nearly tumbled down the open side of the bleachers. “Why don’t you sit down? Tony is almost there to help you anyway. He can get the rest of the balls,”

All she needed was for you to fall out of the stands and hurt yourself.

Your tongue poked between your teeth like you were thinking before the phone shook violently as you plopped down onto the bleachers and rested your chin on your hand. “Kay,”

She blew out a breath as you blinked lazily at her. “Don’t worry, Tony will be there soon,”

She said the words for herself as much as she said them for you. She didn’t like the idea of you being drunk and alone on a random high school field in the middle of the night.

She needed you to be safe, and ok. It was a protective instinct that curled around her chest in a way that it had only for one other person.

Tony would be there soon, and they would get you back to your apartment and she would be able to breathe again.

OoOoOoOo

“Alright, I think I’ve got her all settled,” A salt and pepper-haired man said, as he tucked your Arsenal blanket under your chin as you snorted softly on the couch. His mirror-finish aviators hung from his v-neck shirt, something more casual than anything Taylor had ever seen him wear before.

It was a testament to how quickly he had abandoned his vacation to help her (and you by extension), and for that, she would be forever grateful.

“Thank you, Tony,” She said softly, keeping her voice down so she didn’t wake you. “Really,”

“It’s no problem ma’am,” He waved her off, his southern drawl calming whatever worry was still left in her chest. “I was happy to help when Jason contacted me, and Ms. Morgan is a very cooperative drunk,”

You had been incredibly well-behaved when Tony arrived, allowing him to guide you into the back of the SUV and then giving him your apartment address and your keys with no arguments. You didn’t even complain when he basically carried you up the stairs because you were too wobbly to walk. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was on the phone with you, or if you were just too tired to fight.

“Hopefully we don’t have more of these encounters to compare it against,” Taylor said, glancing at the text from her personal assistant. “Casey texted me, my plane is ready, so I should be there fairly soon,”

Tony made a low noise of agreement, placing a glass of water and an Advil on the coffee table next to your sleeping form, and taking a few steps back to sit on one of the stools, shifting so he could check that the three distinct dog bowls below him also had water.

The three huskies had refused to leave your side as soon as he got you laid down on the couch.

“I’ll stay outside her door until you arrive in case there are any issues,” Tony said, looking around your tiny apartment yet again to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he could do so that you would be comfortable when you woke up. “Would you like to stay on the line?”

Taylor nodded. “That would be great,”

Even though he was there, she wanted to stay too. She needed to be present in case you woke up. She didn’t want you to feel alone, especially when it seemed your team had abandoned you.

Tony stood, plugging in your phone and setting it up on the coffee table so that Taylor had a clear view of your sleeping face.

“I’ll be just outside the door, and my phone is on in case you need me,” He said, squatting so he could look into the camera, and send her a small smile. “I’ll see you when you get here,”

She sent him a wave as he disappeared, leaving the two of you alone (save for the gray huskie who had wiggled under your arm and the black one who was curled up behind your head).

She let out a long breath, watching the slow rise and fall of the edge of your Arsenal blanket.

You looked so young in your sleep.

You were young, she had to remind herself. You were barely 19, even if you wanted to act like you were so much older. Even if you had more responsibilities and people scrutinizing you than most other people your age.

You shifted, pulling the blanket closer to your face, one eye sleepily blinking open.

“Tay?”

She hummed, keeping her voice soft. “Yeah, I’m still here,”

You shifted, wrapping your arm tighter around the gray husky in your arms.

“Don’t ever leave,” You murmured the words into the dog's fur so softly that Taylor almost didn’t hear them. “I like you too much. Even if I don’t deserve you,”

“I like you too,” She smiled gently at the words that sent butterflies swirling in her chest. “Go back to sleep,”

She had liked you too for a very long time, even if she was still hesitant to admit it.

“Noooo,” You pouted, forcing your eyes further open to look at her. They were breathtakingly blue, just like your older sisters. “I like you like Alex likes Kelley, but I’m not supposed to. You’re too good,”

Her eyebrows furrowed.

Why weren’t you supposed to like her? What did you mean that she was too good?

“And you’re straight,” You added, shifting so your nose was hiding behind the dog in your arms.

“You can like me Y/n,” She murmured, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush your messy curls from in front of your sleepy eyes. “I like you too,”

It wouldn’t be worth it to argue with your assumption of her sexuality now anyway. You were too drunk to remember in the morning.

Your eyes blinked open wider in an adorable doe-eyed expression. “Really?”

“Yes,” She nodded, her lips ticking up impossibly more at your adorableness. “Now sleep. I’ll see you soon,”

You made a low noise, your eyes sliding closed as you snuggled your nose into the dog under your arm.

She waited for your breathing to even out, (and several minutes after that) before she clicked off the call to catch her flight. She could watch your sleep for the rest of your lives, and still not get enough.

She wondered if you were dreaming of her, or of soccer balls and shots that you didn’t miss. Or maybe you were dreaming of a world where one kick didn’t have your teammates and friends turning their backs on you.

Maybe one day she would ask you.

OoOoOoO

The first thing you noticed as you came into consciousness was that your mouth felt like it was full of cotton and your head felt like Ashlyn had used it as a ball during punting practice, or like Megan had used it to practice her perfect PKs.

You groaned, shifting on the couch, accidentally displacing the three dogs that had cuddled in around you at some point.

You had no idea why you were sleeping on the couch, instead of in the king-sized bed you had purchased so the 4 of you had room.

Come to think of it, you didn’t actually remember how you got here.

The last thing you remembered was cracking open your 4th beer and gathering your balls so you could shoot more penalties. You didn’t exactly like how the sudsy liquid tasted, but it did an excellent job at dulling the ache in your chest that had settled as soon as you took that fucking PK.

The ache that went ignored by your sister and your teammates who were too wrapped up in their own grief to even check on you.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. At least you remembered to close the blinds, and put out Advil and water for yourself?

You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes when your apartment spun around you, and pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose.

Three cold noses nudged your skin, and you slowly worked your eyes open and reached for the tall glass.

“I’m ok guys,” You mumbled towards the three dogs sending you worried looks and took a large sip of the still-cool water. “It’s like when I give you guys too many treats,”

The gray huskie on your left wined, butting her head into your arm. You reached over with your free hand to scratch behind her ear. “I’m ok Art, nothing a good cup of coffee can’t fix,”

The red dog to your left also nudged you and you rolled your eyes, setting the glass down so you could scratch his head too, and you eyed the black dog still contently cuddled into your left leg.

He was always the most chill of the floof pack, happy to just be in your presence.

You would be happy to stay here all day. To let them love away the empty feeling that lingered after you like a bad cough.

You blinked as a knock sounded at your door, the levity in your chest deflating like a popped balloon.

It was probably one of your teammates coming to scold you for not sitting in the stands at last night's game. For ditching it instead of taking your punishment.

The knock sounded again, and you blew out a long breath as you forced yourself to your feet. “I’m coming,”

Artemis and Apollo trailed after you, stopping by the counter like they had been trained, and Orion stayed on the couch, watching over the living room like a centennial.

You rolled your eyes at him, running a hand through your hair again, trying to at least pretend you were presentable, as you grabbed the door handle (barely even bothered that the deadbolt wasn’t latched)

You froze when you saw a head of blond hair and the bluest eyes you had ever seen instead of one of your teammates.

“Taylor? What are you doing here?” You frowned, opening the door wider with one hand and rubbing your tired eyes with the other, hoping it would quell the dizziness that actually standing brought on. “Don’t you have a recording thing today?”

“I have a recording thing every day,” She said, stepping closer to the door. “You scared the shit out of me and I needed to come to check on you myself,”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

How had you scared her? Did you call her?

“Sorry. I don’t really remember the details of last night,” You opened the door wider, your hand lingering in your curls. “Do you wanna come in?”

Taylor nodded, stepping closer to you. “I’d like that,”

Took a step back, looking behind you towards the dogs.

“The gray one is Artemis and the red one is Apollo. Orion is black and probably hiding out here somewhere, he’s not a big fan of meeting new people,” You gestured towards the husky’s two waiting for their release command. “Do you want to say hello? They won’t jump, but I know you’re more of a cat person,”

She looked over your shoulder, nodding. “Yeah,”

You turned towards the dogs, waving across your waist. “Vale, saluda,”

Art sniffed at you as she pushed herself up and slowly waltzed past you, Apollo close on her tail as they made their way over to Taylor.

She tensed like she expected them to tackle her, but they didn’t. Apollo politely sniffed at the hand she had extended as Art circled her twice before nudging gently against her leg, asking to be pet.

“They’re so well-behaved,” Taylor said softly, her fingers winding their way into the soft fur of Art’s neck.

“Thanks,” You said, watching carefully as Apollo pressed his into Taylor’s other leg, indicating he wanted to be pet too. “They’re pretty mellow for huskies, as long as they've had their exercise,”

Art paused as Taylor’s other hand began to scratch Apollo's back, and you sighed, pointing away from the two of you. “De,”

Yes, they were well-behaved, but their relationship was also similar to the one you shared with your sister. Apollo liked to rile his older sister up, just like you loved to get a rise out of Alex.

You didn’t think that Taylor would appreciate a play fight breaking out.

Art sniffed at you, but did as you asked, her nails tapping as she trotted off towards the living room with Apollo at her heels.

Maybe they would go find Orion and show him the visitor wasn’t so scary.

“Want a drink?” You asked, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck with one hand and gesturing to the small bar in your kitchen with the other. “I think I have coffee somewhere,”

It was mundane in comparison to Taylor’s full marble kitchen. Small and disheveled on all accounts.

The linoleum blue counter had a crack running down the center and you knew that both wooden stools wobbled dangerously when they weren’t in the right spot. But Taylor didn’t complain as she followed you.

“Coffee would be great,” She hummed, and the stools squeaked as she settled onto one and placed her bag on the other. “I think you could use some too after the night you had,”

You shrugged, turning your back on her, pulling the coffee out of the freezer, and settling up the coffee maker. “What happened last night?”

You didn’t turn to look at her, busying yourself in grabbing 2 coffee mugs and a glass and getting the milk and a carton of orange juice from the fridge. You would have offered her a glass too, but considering how often you drank directly from the carton, you didn’t think it was a good idea.

“Well,” She drew out the word, and you felt her eyes on you as you moved through the kitchen. “I texted you because you weren’t on the bench, and you responded mostly with self-deprecating gibberish, so I called you,”

You made a low noise in the back of your throat, grabbing your sugar jar and sliding it towards her, but not meeting her eyes. “I was probably a couple beers deep at that point,”

“Just a couple?” You could almost hear her raised eyebrows, and you finally turned to look at her, placing the coffee pot between you.

You shrugged, smiling impishly as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. “A few more than a couple,”

“Try a 24-pack,” Taylor scoffed, pouring herself her own cup of coffee. “You’re lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning,”

You set your coffee on the counter, sucking all the warmth you could from your mug, your blasé mask cracking.

“I didn’t drink it all last night,” You said, finally meeting her eyes. “I only had like 13 left,”

She sighed, reaching out and catching your hand. “Still,”

You paused, blowing out a very long breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you fly all the way out here and waste a day,”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the end of your sentence. The rapid turn in conversation.

“I’m not wasting anything,” She said slowly. “You obviously needed someone and I’m happy I could be here for you,”

You grimaced. You didn’t deserve to have someone there for you.

You were the one who fucked up the team. The one who ruined everything.

“Hey,” Taylor squeezed your hand again, drawing your eyes back to her, like she could read your thoughts. “No time I spend with you is a waste,”

Red flooded your cheeks, up to your ears, and you tried to hide it with a sip of your too-hot coffee.

She smiled gently at you, looking at the microwave clock behind you. “But we can talk about that later. You have to get ready for practice,”

“I’m not going,” You scoffed, taking another sip. “There’s no point,”

“Y/n, avoiding practice isn’t going to fix what’s happening,” She said, her voice patient. “It’ll only make it worse,”

A dark look crossed your features.

“It can’t get worse,” You said, your voice too calm. Too dangerous. “I’ve already been told I won’t be fielding for the rest of the season, and Mallory Pugh has been called into camp to replace me. My soccer career is over at the ripe old age of 19,”

Despite your efforts to hide it, she could still hear the misery in your voice. The utter defeat.

Her head tilted to the side, and she took a strategic sip of her coffee. “I thought you didn’t lose?”

You shook your head. “This is different,”

You couldn’t fight the system. Not when it was so dead set on driving you out.

If only you could be like your perfect older sister.

“Is it though?” She asked, too nonchalantly. “Prove them wrong. Show up and shove it in their faces,”

You sighed. You knew exactly what she was doing. You always responded better to challenges than to comfort.

Plus if you left, you weren’t sure Taylor would be here when you returned, and you preferred spending time with her over a useless practice anyway.

“And I’ll be waiting here for you after practice,” She added as if sensing one of the reasons for your hesitation. “We can grab some dinner and hang out. But first, you need to go kick some ass. It’ll make you feel better anyway,”

You took another long sip of your coffee, before nodding begrudging.

She was right. Skipping practice would only make things worse, even if going would suck anyway.

OoOoOoO

“Rough night?” Christen smirked at you, bumping your shoulder as you jogged onto the practice field, fixing your practice jersey.

You shrugged, sending the striker a half smile. “Something like that,”

She caught the collar of your practice jersey, peeking at the skin underneath it. “I don’t see any hickeys so it couldn’t have been too bad,”

You batted her hand away, unable to stop the smile that accompanied your rolled eyes. “I don’t have any. I didn’t hook up last night,”

She raised her eyebrow at you.

It was rare you skipped a team thing unless it was for a girl, even when you weren’t on the bench. She knew that you had been bedhopping more to cope with the loss at the Olympics and the tenuous situation with both the national team and Chicago that you found yourself in.

She supposed it was a way for you to distract yourself, even if she didn’t think it was what was best for you.

“Roary was pissed you weren’t at the game,” She said instead of pushing. You were an adult, and what you did off the field was really none of her business.

“I know,” You mumbled, stepping into line behind Huerta, scratching the back of your neck, a strange look crossing your face. “I already had a meeting with him. It’s why I missed activation,”

Christen frowned. “He wasn’t too hard on you, was he?”

He had a reputation for being… abrasive, and Christen was aware of how many times he had been so with you.

You shrugged again. It wasn’t like Christen could do something about how awful he was. Plus you knew Christen would report anything you said right back to Alex.

“No more than usual,” You said, sounding uninterested. “We actually talked about how I’ve improved since coming back from Rio,”

While he had assigned you 8 laps after practice, overall the meeting hadn’t gone as badly as you feared. Considering how awful the Red Stars were performing with you not even allowed on the bench, you shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was sticking you back in the starting 11 for the midweek game.

So despite his critique of your personality and playing style, he had conceded that Chicago scored more when you were on the field to service Christen. You would take it as a win.

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed, not quite believing you. “That’s good I guess,”

You made a low noise, watching Sofia run the drill so you knew what was happening.

It was a simple give-and-go with the midfielders, and a shot on goal.

It would be easy.

And frankly, it was easy.

Your fingers wiggled as you watched Sofia launch the ball just over the crossbar, waiting for the goalkeepers to swap so the striking coach would send you the ball.

You let yourself sink into the drill, and just as he passed you the ball, it was like your brain turned off. You easily tapped it to Colaprico, skirting around Krueger and turning just in time to receive the through ball the midfielder sent back.

It only took a little flick of your heel to get past Naeher, and send the ball into the back of the net, and head to the back of the other line with little fanfare.

“Nice shot,” JJ reached out her hand for a low five as you passed her, and you tilted your chin at her as you passed, a smile playing on your lips.

Taylor had been right, playing did make you feel better.

And you didn’t have to think about the butterflies her presence sent flying in your stomach.

“Maybe you have the Morgan gene after all,” Roary said gruffly, stepping onto the practice pitch, his hand landing heavily on your shoulder.

Your back went straight and the hint of a smile slid off your face.

“I might be able to make an acceptable attacking midfielder of you yet,” He continued, oblivious to how rigid your posture was.

Christen cleared her throat, casually stepping between the two of you and forcing him to let go. “That was a really good goal. I bet you and Al could make that work for the national team too,”

“Hm,” You made a low noise of agreement, looking away from her.

You didn’t want to say that with your reputation, you doubted you would ever get a call up again. You were pretty sure Jill already blacklisted you anyway.

“We’ll have to see about that,” Roary chuckled, and his hand found your shoulder again, squeezing tightly. “A few extra film sessions could help,”

A shiver ran down your spine. You hated film sessions, especially with Roary, but you nodded anyway.

It wasn’t like you had a choice. Roary always got what he wanted.

He squeezed your shoulder one more time before heading off to harass someone else, but you knew he would be back. You were one of his favorite targets.

“You know you don’t have to do sessions with him,” Christen said when he was out of earshot, and you looked away.

She could never understand that you couldn’t say no to him. That your precariousness with both the Red Stars and the USWNT meant that you couldn’t piss off a coach. It meant that you were at his mercy, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“He’s an asshole, but he has some good insights,” You said, watching as JJ ran the opposite side of the drill with Huerta.

Christen used a finger under your chin to force you to look back at her. “That’s not what I asked you,”

“I know Chris,” You said with too much force, jerking away from her. “I can handle Dames. Right now, I need all the help I can get to show Jill that I deserve my fucking spot. If he wants to help, then so be it,”

She paused, her hand still hovering in the air where your chin had been.

“Ok,” She said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing while she tried to decipher your overreaction. “I just wanted to make sure,”

You swallowed hard, moving up in line. “I know. Sorry, I snapped. I was up late,”

Her lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “Ah yes, you got fucked to get over how Roary fucked you out of your starting spot,”

You threw your head back and groaned, red coloring your cheeks as the line around you erupted in giggles.

You would never outlive your… reputation, but that was ok because at least it stopped Christen from asking too many questions. Questions that would make their way back to your sister.

They would never believe that the girl who had distracted you wasn’t one you were currently sleeping with anyway.

“Morgan, you’re up,” The striking coach said, his voice sobering your teammates. “Let’s see if you can do the other half of the drill as well as you did the first,”

You easily stopped the ball he passed your way, winking towards McCaffrey. “I’ll do better. There’s a reason I’m a midfielder after all,”

You would have to thank Taylor for making you practice. She was right, it did make you feel better, and you were on your way to proving why you were one of the best in the world.

OoOoOoO

“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burrito before,” You said, biting into your chicken and queso concoction.

It had been an easy decision to grab Chipotle after practice, one you hadn’t really thought about until the text came through that Taylor didn’t know what to order.

That she had never been to one of your favorite post-practice restaurants.

“I’ve just never gotten around to it. They’re not common in Nashville,” She hummed, delicately biting into her own streak and bean creation. “How was practice,”

You scrunched your nose but decided that pointing out that Chipotle was a national chain (and that you and Emily had eaten at one when you played Australia in Nashville) wasn’t worth it. You felt like there was something… off about her relationship with food, but you didn’t know if you were close enough to be able to bring it up.

You honestly didn’t know if you were just friends, because the way she looked at you felt like you were edging on something more.

“Fine,” Your shoulder lifted and fell as you took another bite and swallowed. You grabbed a chip from your bag, shoving it in the top of your burrito. “Apparently I’m starting tomorrow,”

Taylor frowned. “That feels like quite the jump from being left off the roster,”

She wasn’t entirely sure how the whole selection process worked for roster and starting lineups (despite her recent research into the topic), but it felt very weird for you to go from essentially not on the team to one of the people who would carry it through the game.

You made a low sound of agreement, swallowing. “I have a feeling it was ownership’s call,”

Taylor raised an eyebrow at you, clearly asking for a more comprehensive explanation.

“We lost like 6-0,” You explained. “And our media guy said that the attendance dropped by 40% because I wasn’t on the bench,”

It was one of the few concessions that Roary made. The team hadn’t been able to break through North Carolina’s midfield without your creativity or ability to draw defenders. They hadn’t been able to supply the forwards or stop the line-breaking balls Zerboni kept sending through, and ultimately it led to a complete creaming of your team.

They needed you on the field, no matter how loath he was to admit it. That’s why you assumed Armin had overridden the coach's judgment.

The team brought in less money when they lost.

Taylor nodded in understanding and the two of you lapsed into silence, slowly munching on your respective burritos.

“I can’t believe you have a game 2 days apart,” She said after a few minutes. “Doesn’t seem to leave you a lot of time to recover,”

You tilted your head. “The league wants to squeeze in as many matches as they can before the international break,”

“That seems reasonable,” Taylor said, seemingly agreeing with you.

It didn’t, but the league (and the owners) weren’t really concerned with your health. You were basically a trading card designed to bring them more money.

You played with the foil around your burrito, biting your lip. “I um… I have an extra pass if you want to come watch,”

She paused, her grin dipping into a frown. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Going out somewhere isn’t always easy,”

Not that she was sure anyone even knew she was in Chicago. So far, there hadn’t been any talk on social media of her impromptu trip, and she had no intention of that changing.

She didn’t need the space in front of your apartment becoming a circus. Not with the horrible things the press had been saying about her.

“The seat is in a box, so no one would see you if you decided you wanted to go, and you can use the player’s entrance,” You explained, trying to seem like you didn’t care what her answer would be. Trying to pretend like you wouldn’t care if she decided not to one. “No cameras are allowed in the tunnels,”

Her lips pressed very tightly together, seemingly seeing through your facade. “I just don’t want to take away from your game,”

“You can’t distract from the match,” You shrugged. “There will already be crazy speculation because I’m on the roster, and the Camp call-ups haven’t been made public yet,”

She hummed. She knew that the media that you dealt with was different, but still vicious nonetheless.

Instead of picking apart your outfit choice or your performances on stage, they tore apart your play. They ripped your soccer skills apart and compared you to your sister at every turn.

“I think it’s horrible that they’re focusing so much on one play,”

It was still difficult for her to wrap her head around how a singular moment had seemingly derailed your entire career, but then again a single misconstrued phone call had derailed hers.

You shrugged. It was nothing when compared to what Taylor was dealing with. “At least they’re attacking me for something I actually did. I ended my soccer career with a single kick. You’re being punished for a man’s lies,”

Taylor nodded slowly, taking another bite of her burrito.

She didn’t think either circumstance was fair, but that was the position that you were both in. You were trapped by your coaches and she was trapped by perception.

The only thing either of you could do was control the things you could, and enjoy the ride. Everything would even out eventually.

“I’ll come to your game,” She said, not just because she knew it would make you happy, but also because she wasn’t ready to leave yet, and going to the game would mean spending more time with you.

Plus, there was no way she would miss seeing you so in your element in person. Not when it was so ridiculously attractive on screen.

Your whole face lit up. “Really?”

She couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, it should be fun,”

Even if the paparazzi got wind of it, seeing you look so happy for the first time since you returned from Brazil would make it worth it.

“It’ll be great. I’ll even make sure to score for you,” You said, wiggling excitedly as you cleaned up your burrito wrapper and held the bag up for her as Art and Apollo both sniffed at it (she was shocked they hadn’t even begged for scraps earlier).

“If you do, you’ve gotta do the backflip celebration,” She chucked, tossing the aluminum wrapped from her burrito into the bag. “That one’s my favorite,”

You paused, your grin morphing into a mischievous smirk at the mention of your very famous goal celebration.

“For sure,” You said with your signature wink, and Taylor couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “I’ll do a double if I get a hat trick, just for you,”

It took a second for her peels of laughter to dissolve into shorter giggles and for her to catch her breath. It was so strange to have the look you always sent fans directed at her. The look she was sure had landed you most of your famous hookups.

Though it kind of melted her heart that you only used it on her in a comedic sense. That it shifted back to the look she liked to think you saved just for her as soon as her giggles filled the air.

“Do you want to watch something before dinner?” You asked, sobering and shifting awkwardly on the couch. “The pups and I thought a pillow fort would be cool,”

Taylor hummed, leaning her chin on her hand. “I think that sounds incredible,”

The little fist pump you gave was adorable, as was the way the dogs hopped around you, and in that moment she knew.

When she looked back on this moment, it would be the one she would point to as the moment she knew she was in love.

OoOoOoO

Taylor had been to a lot of places in her life. She had played down the road from Seat Geek Stadium in Chicago many times.

But she had never gotten to see this side of the city.

She had never gotten to be normal and watch a game without hordes of people screaming for her attention. She hadn’t even needed to use the special player entrance. The stadium attendants had escorted them to the box with zero fanfare, and she felt safe sitting in the open area of the box with the promise that the cameras rarely panned it.

She didn’t even regret not bringing extra security like she thought she would.

Her heart also fluttered each time you glanced up at the box, smiling impossibly wider each time she waved.

It was like the little lanyard pass you had given her (and Tony) was an invisibility cloak.

It was an addictive feeling to be so… free. To be hidden to the rest of the world but so visible to you.

“She’s really on fire tonight,” Tony said, glancing over at the game clock.

You had only been on the field for 15 minutes, and you had already scored twice.

“She’s got a lot to prove,” Taylor hummed, leaning forward in her seat as you slotted another better ball between the two opposing team’s defenders. “This is the first time she’s gotten to play since the Olympics,”

You had already told her that you probably wouldn’t get to play the full first half anyway. Your coach was stuck on the penalty you took in Brazil just like the rest of the world was, even if Taylor didn’t see a point in basing your playtime off of it.

That meant you had limited minutes to prove to them that you deserved to be on the pitch. To make them regret not starting you in other games,

Tony’s head tilted as number 23 played a quick pass back to you and the ball buried itself into the back of the net with just the tap of your toes for your 3rd goal of the evening.

It looked easy. Fluid. Even when he knew it was anything but.

You smiled as the crowd went absolutely wild, tipping an invisible hat towards the bench.

“I think it has more to do with who’s here,” Tony countered, gesturing towards where you winking towards the player's box was replaying on the Jumbotron.

She shrugged, ignoring the slight red creeping up her cheeks and his sideways glance. “The team has so much more energy when she’s on the field,”

Even as the teams got ready to reset, you bounced on your toes, twisting your hips in a way that reminded her of the shake it off dance and saying words Taylor couldn’t hear to your teammates. Words she was sure were organizing your offense. Words she knew would help you continue to shred your former team, even if she herself wouldn’t understand them (watching a game with you had been like listening to a foreign language as you yelled at the screen, unwilling to translate until it was over).

“She’s the focal point of their offense,” Tony agreed, deciding not to comment further on Taylor’s blush. “But tonight she’s playing more flashy than she normally plays,”

Taylor hummed. He was right.

From what she had seen, you were not generally a selfish player. You liked to serve balls on a platter to make your team look good. You liked to pull defenders and set your strikers up.

Tonight you hadn’t done that.

Tonight you had taken the chances for yourself, putting them in the back of the net and making sure the league knew exactly what you were capable of. You wanted to show them how dangerous you could be.

“She’s proving a point,” Taylor reiterated.

“I don’t disagree,” Tony said as you slotted a very nice through pass past the first defender, and the second just barely poked it out for a corner kick. You glanced up towards the box as you took your position, a little smirk on your face. “I’m just not sold that she’s only proving a point to the coaching staff, her teammates and the reporters,”

Taylor’s head tilted.

It was true that while you didn’t play flashy, you did like to tease the fans (and whoever had caught your eye that week). You knew their obsession with you, and you never missed an opportunity to play it up.

But this felt different.

You hadn’t been winking at anyone on the field, or in the stands. The only place you kept looking was over towards the coaching staff and up at her.

“She doesn’t have anything to prove to me,” She said, sitting back in her chair as your header landed in the keeper's hands.

Tony smirked. “I know that and you know that,”

Taylor made a low noise, her eyes flitting to the sideline where the 4th official was getting ready with the sub-board. “I think she knows that too,”

You trudged to the sideline when your number came up, using your jersey to wipe your mouth (flashing your abs to the crowd) and glancing up at the clock.

Taylor followed your eyes, frowning at the large 25 on the screen.

It was stupid to take you off when you were playing so well, and the booing from the crowd echoed her sentiment. The fans were about as happy as you looked about coming off, even if it was already expected.

You ignored your replacement and brushed off the coach's hand, glaring at him as you took the pinny from one of the equipment managers.

There was an odd friction between you and the man, one that brought out a fierceness and an anger that countered your normally sunny personality. But then again, your personality was much different when you were on the field anyway.

There was a confidence and swagger about you that made butterflies erupt in her stomach. That made her want you in a way that should make her feel uncomfortable.

But even now, the way you signed autographs for the fans behind the bench reminded her that you were still you. You were still the sweet and shy, not the cocky character you played on the field (even if she was rather sexy).

This version of you was the one that melted her heart.

“She might know that, but I think she wants to impress you anyway,” Tony said, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s cute,”

Taylor raised an eyebrow at him, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the warmth that moved from her cheeks up to her ears. “Shut up,”

He chuckled, settling back in his seat, ready for the rest of the game (even if it had considerably slowed down now that you weren’t playing). He had a feeling that he would get to witness many more of your interactions in the future and that he would get to see your insane footwork on the field again if the look on Taylor’s face was anything to go by.

Getting to see the two of you actually interact together had to be just as adorable, and he was looking forward to it.

OoOoOoO

You sighed, leaning back on the couch, scratching Orion’s head where he rested it in your lap, just above your air therapy boots, and changing the channel for the 30th time.

You weren’t actually watching the television, but you thought that some background noise would help alleviate the odd emptiness that had overtaken your apartment. It was quiet in a way you hadn’t expected now that Taylor (and Tony) were gone, and it made you feel like there was a little piece of you missing.

Post-game recovery was always your least favorite part of the process. It always gave you too much time to think and to worry. To dissect every movement you made on the field.

But now it also gave you too much time to miss Taylor.

You understood why she had to leave after a quick congratulations after the game. You knew she was busy and that she needed to be in New York to record.

That didn’t mean that a part of you didn’t wish she had stayed.

You shook your head, shifting on the couch (much to Orion's annoyance).

You weren’t supposed to get attached to Taylor. To people in general, really.

Experience taught you that they would all leave eventually, no matter what they said or how much they promised you they wouldn’t.

Your parents forgot about your existence when Alex started getting called up to the U20 team. Alex left you for college and was too wrapped up in her new life to remember you existed either. Your friends all left when they realized that you weren’t worth the effort.

And Taylor…

She would leave too when she found out about the feelings you harbored for her.

She would write a song about how you ruined your friendship because you were too selfish to accept that she would never feel like you did. Even if she didn’t, she would leave once she saw how fucked up you really were.

Still, the little voice in your brain fixated on the chemistry between the two of you. On the moments where you caught her staring at your abs during the game, or how you would swear she was staring at your lips when you met her in the tunnel afterward.

But she couldn’t like you that way, and if she did it was something more than a sexual curiosity.

You blew out another breath.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t crossed that line with your friends before, you had, but you didn’t want it to be like that with Taylor. You didn’t want her to be a fuck buddy or a one night stand that she would regret later.

You couldn’t cross that line without her leaving you, but you weren’t even sure if there was a line to cross. Hell, you had never had a real relationship so you weren’t even sure if you had already crossed it.

Did friends do the things you and Taylor did? Did friends fly cross country to help? Did they cuddle in pillow forts?

You were just… lost.

You had never felt so… attached before.

You let your head fall back on the couch with a low thump. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t call the person you normally would (Kelley) because she would tell Alex.

You grabbed your phone from the edge of the couch, scrolling through your contacts until you found one of the few who weren’t ignoring you for missing the PK. One of the few who you trusted (even if you would get the shit teased out of you).

You paused, your finger hovering over Emily’s picture.

She would know what to do. She always knew what to do.

It took you another second to gain the courage to actually press the call button, and you worried your bottom lip as it started to ring.

She was definitely going to make fun of you.

“I need your help,” You said as soon as Emily’s face appeared on the screen.

“Hello Emily, how are you? I’m fine, thank you so much for asking,”

“Emily,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, but she just raised her eyebrows expectantly in response. Your shoulders sank. “Hello Emily, how are you?”

“I’m doing great,” She smiled cheekily back at you. “Now what’s up?”

You ran a hand through your hair, rubbing over the short curls at the back of your neck, trying to mask how nervous you were.

“I..-“ You stuttered, looking away. “There’s a girl, and I like her, but I have no clue what’s happening or what’s supposed to happen next,”

She squinted at you. “Are you dating this girl?”

“No,” You breathed out, dragging your hand from your hair to press into your forehead. “I don’t think so. She’s my friend. She’s straight, but there’s all this weird tension, and I’m not sure if she would ever want to date me. I doubt it, cause like I said she’s straight. But she’s really really pretty and we cuddle and I like her a lot but i-“

“Y/n,” Emily said, cutting you off mid-ramble, a playful smile pulling at her lips.

You blinked at her. “Yeah?”

“Let’s just start at the beginning,” She leaned forward, towards the phone, accentuating each syllable. “And talk at a pace where I can actually understand you,”

“I…I got drunk and missed a game,” You swallowed down your blush and looked away from her raised eyebrow. “She flew to Chicago to see me because she was worried, and I bought her her first burrito-,”

“She’s never had a burrito before? What kind of person hasn’t had a burrito?” Emily snorted, and you felt the tension in your chest relax a little.

You shrugged. “She said she never had one before. She liked it a lot,”

Emily’s head tilted in question, but she waved her hand. “Ok, carry on with your story,”

You swallowed hard, focusing on how your fingers dug into the spot at the back of your neck“She came to check on me and convinced me to go to practice. I bought her a burrito, and we had Thai for dinner.

“Did she sleep over?” She asked you, her pointer finger tapping her bottom lip.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. The huskies cuddled up with us in a pillow fort and we both fell asleep to survivor,”

Emily sighed, sending you a pointed look. That wasn’t what she had been asking. “But you didn’t sleep together?”

Red instantly colored your cheeks, and the pads of your fingers dug further into the muscles at the base of your skull. “Not in the um… traditional sense,”

You looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. You couldn’t have Taylor in that way. She didn’t want you.

And if you crossed that boundary (like you had with only one other person who was a friend) then you knew you would lose her.

You weren’t ready for that.

But at the same time, you didn’t know how to not cross it. Not with the feelings still bubbling in your chest.

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Is she still there?”

“No, she had to go back to New York after the game,” You shook your head. “And we’re going to meet up again while you all are at came because there’s a break,”

Despite how much you didn’t want her to go, you understood that she had responsibilities and music to record, but that didn’t stop the way your chest ached now that she was gone.

It didn’t stop the confusion racing around your brain.

Emily stared at you like you had grown 3 heads. “A girl flew to Chicago for you, waited at your shitty apartment while you were at practice, let you bring her lunch and take her out to dinner, then attended a shitty Red Stars game and you still don’t know if she’s into you,”

You sighed, weaving your fingers through the too-long curls at the base of your neck and tugging.

“She’s my friend, Emily,” You grit out.

She raised an eyebrow at you. “The same friend who answers every time you call her,”

You tugged harder. “You don’t understand,”

Taylor was like that with all of her friends. She made everyone feel like they were the only person she could see. The only person who mattered when she was with them.

“I understand just fine,” She snorted. “You’re such a dumbass,”

You sent her a withering glare. “Emily be serious, please,”

She held her hand up in defense. “I am being serious. You’ve been on at least 2 dates, and she invited you to her place. All before the two of you have hooked up. If that doesn’t scream dating, or the desire to be dating, then I don’t know what will,”

You shook your head, dragging your fingers up through your hair and down your face.

This was why you hadn’t wanted to call Emily. Why Kelley or Alex would have been a much better option.

“This is not why I called you,” You mumbled.

“Then what is?” She asked, sounding amused.

“I…-“ You bit your lip and finally looked up at her, meeting her eyes through the phone. “I don’t know how any of this works, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next,”

“Well, at some point a conversation should happen where you define what you two are doing,” She said slowly, her voice turning soft but serious. “but other than that, I think you just go with it,”

You squinted. “Just go with it?”

What was her brilliant advice to your crisis? To just… let whatever was going to happen happen.

“Yeah, if you’re into it and she’s into it, just be into it, together,” She shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,”

Part of you wanted to yell that it already was complicated. That you couldn’t cross a line and lose her like you’d lost everyone else. But you didn’t.

“Ok,” You said. “Thank you,”

Emily smiled brilliantly back at you. “No problem, I’ll see you soon,”

You stared at the black screen of the phone as she ended the call.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you just had to go with it and trust your gut.

Maybe it would all be ok if you didn’t overthink it. That’s why you were good at hookups after all wasn’t it?

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #taylor swift imagine #woso x reader #taylor swift x reader

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incognit0slut · 11 months

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (6)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part summary: she is taken aback as the student becomes the master. wc: 4,3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content (this part includes masturbation, forced orgasm, a little squirting, female and male oral), graphic details of murder

a/n: SMUT ALERT! If you like sexy stuff then you can just read this, but reading previous parts is better for context :)

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

SPENCER HAD WITNESSED MANY THINGS THAT LEFT HIM IN A STATE OF WONDER. Certain books or poetry. Certain buildings, art, or places. Specific moments that left him in an overwhelming sense of awe. But no amount of experience could prepare him for the view right at this moment. It felt as if he wasn't worthy enough to marvel this splendor sight of a woman.

Was comparing her to a masterpiece of fine art too excessive? Although he couldn't help it, with the way she was sprawled along the couch with knees spread apart, she seemed to be all source of beauty and perfection. His eyes trailed across her glorious body; adorning every curve, every line, and every inch of her skin.

His body ached to touch her, to feel her hot skin underneath his fingertips, yet he wouldn’t dare himself to reach out. This was her moment, he realized. She was laid out in front of him on her own accord, wearing nothing but a coy smile and a certain spark in her eye. Who was he to interrupt a woman basking in her sensuality?

"So, is this some kind of a lesson?" He slowly asked after a moment, his tone provocative and full of meaning as he paused and licked his lips. "If you must know, I'm a very fast learner."

Her eyes were focused on his mouth, those plump lips now glistening slightly from where his tongue had just wet them. "A lesson, a show... you can think of it as anything you want." Then a taunting smile played on her lips. "I only need you to pay attention."

His gaze swept over her wet flesh, flushed and swollen, the slickness glistening from her core made every part of him swell. "You've had my full attention ever since I saw you that night. You're all I think about."

She felt herself crumbling at his confession. Her heart hammered against her chest, the charge behind his words spreading warmth throughout her body that had nothing to do with her arousal. "Don't say things like that, Dr. Reid."

"Why?"

Because I think I could fall for you.

She swallowed the thought away and focused her attention on this moment. Sex. That was what she should be thinking of, not the way her mind was going into a spiral of admiration that had nothing to do with physical attraction. Nothing else should matter when the man sitting a few feet away from her was looking at her as if she was his favorite meal.

"On second thought," she decided to say, her fingers slowly moving across her thigh. "Words are good."

When he didn't respond, she continued, her hand slipping between her legs. "Words can be an additional sense to stimulate the brain that goes beyond—" Her fingers softly pressed onto her clit. "—touch."

"That... is true," he softly agreed, his breathing more shallow as he watched her fingers moving in a circle motion. "The brain is the most receptive erogenous zones in the human body."

"Exactly. Now tell me what you're thinking."

There wasn't a moment of hesitation as he answered, "How beautiful you are."

She couldn't help the genuine smile forming in her mouth. "What else?”

She really was a sight. Chemicals suddenly flood his system, making his head pound and chest restrict, his blood entirely redirecting south. He gulped as she quickened the pace on her clit. "How I want to be the one touching you right now."

"Yeah?" She readjusted her position to spread her legs wider, wanting to give him a better look at her glistening flesh. "Tell me how you would touch me."

He could feel his body tightening with arousal. "With my hand."

She bit on her bottom lip, trying to hold her amused laughter. "I think that's already a given." Then she gently sped up the motion of her fingers, her voice coming out breathless as she whispered, "You can do better than that, Spencer."

There was an intense warmth that spread along his body. Hearing her call out his name as she pleasured herself gave him a certain control of the situation. It honestly felt exhilarating to be the reason of her arousal. He was the one she wanted. He was the one to have the privilege to behold her whimpering in desperation.

He then leaned forward, a new sense of power in his voice. "I want to run my hands all over you. I want to taste you." She hummed a response, eyes locking with his. "I want to see you writhing as I map your body with my tongue."

He noticed how receptive she became to his words, her body squirming as her fingers pressed onto her clit harder. He took it as an encouragement and kept on going.

"I want to put my head between your thighs. I want to be the one sucking on all that wetness." His tongue swiped along his bottom lip as his gaze traveled down the slickness dripping between her legs. "Look at how soaking wet you are, taking pleasure in my voice as you desperately play with yourself."

Y/n believed Spencer was a smart man. She also believed it when he said he was a fast learner, yet actually hearing his erotic suggestion while he watched her so earnestly drove her over the edge. Her other hand slid across her breast, pinching her aroused nipple as she continued the erratic movement of her fingers. Her eyelids dropped at the sensation traveling through her body.

"I want to make you feel good until you can't breathe," she heard him say, his voice growing more strained. "Until you can't see, until you can't think of anything else but the overwhelming pleasure I will give to you."

She whimpered out a desperate sigh. The snarl of pleasure that tore itself from his throat at her desperation was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. This glorious feeling of knowing she craved him, that she needed him as badly as he did was indescribable it gave him more power.

"I want to ruin you in the best way possible."

She inhaled sharply, time standing still for a moment. Her eyes then snapped open, landing on him splaying his hands over his knees. Her insides wrenched. Her chest was heaving as her fingers slowed down while she tried to register the refined yet filthy words coming out of his mouth. "Well, aren't you quite the poet."

She saw him shrug his shoulders with a bashful smile curling on his lips. "I read a lot."

A breathless laugh escaped her mouth. "Of course you do."

Then her eyes skimmed across his face, noticing the way his eyes glazed over her. His gaze was a slow pull, a gentle tug at the edge of her consciousness. It was evident in the way her body responded, her core alight with the fire he had been patiently building, throwing more fuel over it with each second that passed.

"You're so pretty," he gently spoke, raking his eyes along the span of her exposed body. Then he couldn't help himself as the next words slipped out of his mouth without much thought, "Put a finger inside yourself."

She tensed for a slight moment before she relaxed. "Giving me orders now?"

"I want to see how tight you are."

Her breath hitched at his words. There was a moment of silence as she slipped a finger into her entrance, her body quivering at the pressure. She moved it slowly, feeling the slickness of her walls clenching around her finger that she let out a moan.

"Add another finger. I know you can take it," he ordered, almost drooling at the sight in front of him. His gaze roamed her flesh, drinking in her naked body, the line of her neck, the peak of her breasts, the flare of her hips, the way she writhed with the pressure of her fingers, and her moan—god, the noises she made. It grew louder as he told her to go faster, her body quivering when he remarked that she was not fast enough.

"You can do better than that, Y/n."

She let out a loud gasp at the sound of her name, her back arching away from the couch, her eyes instantly locking with his. She felt so light-headed, so hot, so unbelievably wet. She started to come aware of everything. The feeling of her fingers digging into her soft flesh, continuously swirling against her heat, and the way his eyes soaked in her every movement. She could feel the weight of his stare and it was enough to throw her over the edge, her fingers moving at a quicker pace.

"Are you close?"

"Yes," she confirmed, her legs beginning to burn as she felt herself getting closer to the steady rhythm she had created with herself. Small whimpers slipped through her lips as she felt the familiar sensation tightening in the pit of her stomach, her mind already losing focus of her surroundings.

"Stop touching yourself."

His sudden voice pulled her back to reality, eyes narrowing in his direction. Somehow she managed to halt her movement as she watched him slowly rise from his seat, striding across the room with leisured yet determined steps. Then he positioned himself right in front of her, standing above her so that she had to tilt her head upward to see his face.

"I'm a man of my word." He slowly lowered himself, dropping down to his knees. A slow, sinful smile snuck its way along his lips as his hand grazed the satin span of her thigh. "I do want to ruin you."

She made a little noise, halfway between a sigh and a moan as a long finger brushed featherlight over her sex. Her fingers slowly slipped away as her eyes trained on him, watching the way he carefully slid a finger between her wetness, feeling his callused pad swipe along her slick folds. And when she thought she couldn't get more aroused than this, he proved her wrong by closing the distance, his mouth wrapped around her throbbing clit.

He grunted in delight as her slickness dampened his jaw.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured, and she felt the warm gust of his exhale into her heat. It made her walls flex just as his tongue dived inside her. She leaned back and writhed as he eagerly licked between her slit, wrapping his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her hot flesh. She faintly looked down at him and found his eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as he wrapped his lips around her sweet spot and sucked every inch of her like a man starved.

She closed her eyes, her fingers tangling in his thick, untamed hair as she felt another wave of pleasure hit her. His tongue was pressed flat up against her, lapping at her eagerly before moving to twirl around her clit deliciously. She could feel her high approaching, thighs already trembling and he found that to be the perfect time to pull her in closer by the thighs, wrapping his arms securely around them to bring her core closer to his face.

Feeling her body shake, he wasted no time, tongue furiously licking against her and sliding the muscle in and out easily. His growl rumbled against her wetness as she spasmed, her face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up her folds, his tongue sliding into her and pressing on the walls. It didn't take long for her to moan out his name as the sensation struck her body, his hands firmly supported her convulsing body over his tongue to help ride out her high.

She pulled onto his hair with both of her hands, moving her hips against his face as he continued to groan and lick her through her climax. Utterly dazed and covered in a sheen of sweat with a pleasant tingling sensation traveling throughout her body, she watched as he slowly straightened himself, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her into a sitting position.

Then he didn't wait anymore longer as he buried his face in her chest, mouth circling onto her hard nipple. Shoulders tensing, she grabbed a handful of his hair. His tongue was lapping eagerly while his hands roamed her breasts greedily, trying to grab as much of her as he possibly could.

She was dizzy with feverish need, pulling him closer to her chest, getting herself drunk on the caresses against her skin. It wasn't until she felt fingers sliding into her pulsing, sensitive heat that she let out a desperate moan, louder than she intended to.

"Spencer," she whimpered, her body starting to shake again. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you pleasure," he murmured against her skin. Then he proceeded to prove his words by thrusting his fingers steadily into her while his thumb rubbed onto her clit. Her hips buckled while her hand fumbled everywhere in search of something to hold before gripping it along his wrist, a familiar yet stronger sensation pushing through her body for the second time.

This high was fast. It was consuming her so much that she could already feel the coil in her stomach, her mind going blank. She arched her back, instinctively shoving away a bit from him, but he moved closer, rocking his fingers in and out of her body at a more rapid pace, almost violently.

"That's it, I got you," he growled in a rich, rounded tone, slamming his fingers into her. "You can take it."

The pleasure suddenly exploded inside of her, sending her over the edge as she cried louder than before, the sensation sweeping her up into orgasmic bliss and leaving her panting heavily. The feeling was all-consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. She let out a sob as he eased her through it, kissing her breasts while her thighs shook around his arm.

Her breathing slowed as she came back down to reality and she reached out her hand for him. There was a coy smile on his lips as he sat beside her, pulling her body into his arms as he gently hooked a hand under one of her legs, placing it on top of his thighs.

She might not be as smart as he was, but she could tell exactly what he had in mind.

"Spencer," she hissed, throwing him a pointed look. But her protest trembled as he gently kissed the corner of her lips, traveling along her jawline before he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

"I think you can give me another one."

A hiss of pleasure instantly flew out of her mouth as she felt him thrusting two fingers inside her swollen flesh. There was no mercy in his sudden movement this time, curling his digits inside her vigorously, the sensation had her legs shaking all over again. She could hear how drenched she was, the slick sound of him driving into her echoed around the room, followed by a harsh, loud sob ripping through her throat.

The heel of his palm pressed against her clit as he continued to curl his fingers inside her. Her thighs tightened around his hand, trying desperately to push him away from the overwhelming sensation. Her body was already shaking from the sheer number of times of pleasure, unsure that she could take much more.

"I-I can't—" She begged him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away but instead the vibrations began to ripple throughout her body. Her eyes rolled back as her mouth dropped open, no longer able to speak as a loud squeal left her lips, the sound distorted by the pleasure surging through her body. “P-Please. I can’t.”

"One more—just one last time."

She cried out and huffed breaths in her nose as his fingers curled and started to rock almost violently forward, swinging hard against a spot deep inside her. Her eyes went wide, feeling something entirely new, like nothing she had ever experienced before. "I-I can't, it's too much—fuck."

"That's it. Such a good girl." He growled, panting with exertion, using the strength of his whole arm to push in and out at a blistering speed. "You look so pretty like this."

"I-I'm going to make a mess—" A panic cry left her mouth, her whole body tensing. Her grip tightened around his forearm, reveling in the flex of his tendons as he rocked his fingers inside her violently.

"Then make a mess." He kissed the side of her neck. "Come on, make a mess for me."

He was forcing out filthy, squelching noises from her body and all she could do was lean into him, wordlessly panting needy noises. Then his thumb circled around her clit, pushing it up into her body so harshly she was gripping onto his arm for dear life. She couldn't take it anymore, her body shaking as the intensity rippled along her core.

And then it suddenly came to her—so intense, so violent, sweeping her away as she almost blacked out at the force of pleasure. She could hear his distinctive voice, triumphant, then turning into lavish praise as she screamed, focusing on a sudden pressure in her gut before a strong gush of liquid surged from her body. He watched her tremble and held her close to him as she screamed out his name, his fingers continuously circling her clit roughly.

Y/n had never felt a pleasure so intense until now. Her body was spasming, her legs were shaking, and her eyes were closed shut. She held onto him desperately and felt his heart beating under her palm as he kissed the side of her head, gently muttering praises as he helped her ride out the tide of pleasure convulsing in her blood. And when every drip of liquid escaped her body, she finally let out a sigh, her head falling against his shoulder.

The silence was calm after the wave, but his voice slowly filled her head with a hint of triumph. "So, did I do well?"

She was tired; utterly, delightfully tired. But she wasn't in the place to hear him gloat. Her eyes slightly trained on him, and hating the smug look on his face, she slowly turned her body towards him. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling as she pressed her lips on his cheek, softly, barely even touching it, before she trailed her lips down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as she felt his grip on her hip. "What are you doing?"

"Just reciprocating your words." She then opened her mouth, her tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I want to ruin you too."

Her parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as she softly sucked on the spot below his ear. He let out a soft whimper, melting into her touch. What was it about neck kisses that made them feel so good? Was it the tingles that ran down his spine through to the soles of his feet with every kiss? Was it the feeling of intimacy clouding his thoughts?

Y/n wasn't even fully recovered from the pleasure still strumming in her system but she found herself reaching over, sinking onto her knees in front of him. His eyes went wide momentarily. Realization hit him as he understood what she wanted, what she wanted to do to him, his eyes studying the determined look on her face.

"A-Are you sure?" He asked carefully, sliding a hand into her hair. "Because if you change your mind, I'm more than fine."

She dragged her eyes up to his body, lingering for a few seconds on the vest he was still clad in and caressing the blush dipping along his neck before settling on his face. "I think it's only fair. Besides," she muttered, giving him a sly smile, looking into the passion brimming in his eyes. "I really want to suck you."

He grunted at her words, leaning onto the couch as he watched her. She wanted to bask in the warmth of his gaze, the utter devotion in his eyes as she settled between his thighs. She leaned closer, raking her nails over the contours of his legs, the material of his pants rippling under her fingers.

Biting her lip, she slid one hand over his bulge. He let out a sharp breath, desperately whispering her name as she unbuttoned the belt around his waist. Her movements were slow, lingering the anticipation in his tensed muscles. And after fumbling with his belt, he finally helped her, pulling himself out of the confinement of his pants.

She sighed in satisfaction. God, he was beautiful. He was thick and solid, warm and long with a slight curve. Veins dance along his length and she traced a finger up to the flared head, before dipping her head, her lips following. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored and her head completely emptied as she leaned in and licked it up.

He grunted weakly, out of amusement or desire, she didn't know—maybe both. Humming, she wrapped one hand around him and stroked him slowly. A pause settled between them before she finally took him fully in her mouth. He was all salt-tinged mixed with something undeniably him, his taste bursting on her tongue. She kept swallowing him down, her jaw stretching wide as she struggled to get every inch of him inside her, wrapping her hand around what was left.

"Y/n," he groaned between ragged breaths as her mouth wrapped around the girth of his thickness. He had his hand buried deep in her hair, holding it up in his grip when she tightened her hold on him, squeezing him gently. The added stimulation made his eyes roll back, a masculine sound of pleasure resounding in his throat. "You're unbelievable."

The compliment and the urgency in his voice made her wonder how much she was able to make him lose control. She swirled her tongue around him, swallowing him back down as she give him a rough, firm pump. She hollowed her cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across her tongue and he hit the back of her throat. The vibrations traveled down, shooting through his veins and he almost came apart right there.

"Shit," he rasped out, tugging on her hair as his hips jerked up, and she gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "You're taking me so well."

She couldn't stop the proud smile forming on her face. She was the one who made him lose control—the one who could awaken the dumbstruck look in his eyes. Her mouth enclosed around him again and she repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with her tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until she had every inch of him in her mouth. He took her head in a tender hold and slammed her face down, his hips flexing to meet her.

The low wet sounds of her gagging meld with his gravelly broken moans were so erotic. She glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as she moved her head in a rapid motion. He panted another hoarse sigh out, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air, hips jolting upward.

"I can't hold any longer," he whispered hoarsely.

He was on the edge of his release, she could feel him pulsing in her mouth. The mixture of intimacy and pleasure overwhelmed his body, and instead of pulling away, she only grew more aggressive in her attempt, sucking harder and tongue pressing firmer. Her efforts were rewarded by the hot ropes of liquid hitting her throat. His head was starting to spin, stars danced behind his eyes as he felt her swallow everything he had to give, save for the small dribble past her lips as she unraveled her mouth around his shaft.

She smiled up at him, enjoying the way he was leaning back after his bliss, and despite how heavy his body felt, he used a thumb to wipe away the line of liquid on her mouth. "I think we both are very much ruined."

She let him pull her up, settling himself on top of his thighs. His wide hands engulfed her face before he brought her down to him, capturing her lips in a soft, searing kiss. He kissed her with every ounce of power he had. Kissed her as he had daydreamed about so many times. He kissed her as he had never kissed anyone before, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt right.

Then he pulled away, yet kept his hold on her. She carefully resigned herself, feeling completely in the moment with him, her eyes lost in his lingering gaze as she scanned over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room and angle, but she could still see the softness of them.

He suddenly reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The unexpected action had her freeze above him. It awfully felt too intimate, but on the other hand, it felt... somewhat peaceful. Calming. Serene.

And at that moment, she suddenly became aware of their surroundings, of what had took place. The way she was naked and perched on his lap. The way he was mostly fully clothed. The way they were trying to catch their breath.

Then her knee grazed against the deadly weapon still attached to his hip and she jerked, becoming aware of who he was, who she was supposed to be. This unexpected turn of events was already a slight curve in the dynamic between an authority and somebody who was involved in a case.

An unsettling feeling suddenly weighed in her gut as she studied his face, pushing and pulling her consciousness as if she was stepping into a pit of regret… into something that was unforeseeable—into something that wasn't going to end well.

>> NEXT PART

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