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#mellow r us
beenjen · 2 months
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Sing it Willie 🌟 💫 ⭐️
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ocean-stuck · 2 years
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hey remember when we all imagined evil morty to be like. rick's original morty who snapped and got abandoned by him and was on a long elaborate quest for revenge. and then it turned out that he had nothing to do with c-137 and was actually just broken by the systemic evil of the citadel factory farming mortys to use and force into the toxic r&m dynamic we're familiar with, to the point where he was willing to stoop to any low just to smash it all and fuck off?
yeah watch weird rick turn out to be something none of us could've predicted
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serenqa · 9 months
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made this and thought it kinda fits so why not share it ( i used a template though..😬😬😬😬 )
also yes i chose mellow to drive because
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yeah i think it makes sense now
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violence-infatuation · 5 months
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wish my brain would shut the fuck up abt cronenberg fr like who gives a fuck. me bitch look at my man
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kcrossvine-art · 11 days
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haiiii dungeon delvers! This is a quick one, gratefully both the materials and the dish-type are very close to their real life inspiration :D
As we speak, my favorite catgirl bestfolk is getting introduced to the anime and you haven no idea how much self control its taken to not immediately jump forward to be in sync with her, but theres SO many good recipes before we get there!!!
We will be making a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet today!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes into a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts made from the egg of a basilisk, which isnt a large chicken egg but instead a large snake egg. Oblong shape, soft leather texture, and no eggwhites just yolk.
A large daikon
½ lbs fatty bacon
Shallots
Garlic
Chicken eggs
Salt
Pepper
Arugula (for garnishing)
OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)
You could try cooking this using actual snake eggs, but theyre hard to come by and reportedly quite bland compared to chicken eggs. I tried getting my hands on an ostrich egg for the pizzaz of it all. The zoo lady was kind in her dismissal.
AND, “what does a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKOmelettes are standard fair but here we cook them like a french omelette and wrap it up like a burrito at the end.
Wetter eggs than im used to ( <- american)
Daikon and bacon r very tasty together
They end up having the same texture almost
Intensely savory. Heavy on the tummy
Chopped green onions would bring more levity to the filling
Ketchup pairs well
(but i prefer medium hot sauce)
Dark coffee pairs well
The acidity of the above 3 is what makes them work with this nutrient Dense dish
. In the show, decapitated mandrakes are more bitter than mandrakes left 'whole'. If you want that difference, using sweet/sour sauce on some of the daikon while it cooks will make the non-sauced daikon seem bitter by comparison. . Maybe ferment daikon too? . Adding a small amount of water with the bacon transfers the heat evenly, a small amount as to cook off before the fat/grease renders. Could also try cooking in the oven.
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"Consisting of a fluffy Basilisk egg omelet filled with minced Basilisk bacon and mandrake.If the mandrake used was killed with its 'head' still attached, it will be less bitter and more mellow" This dish is important as it marks the beginning of Senshi and Marcilles bonding, and the lead-up gives us our first glance into the school Falin and Marcille met at. Objectively the recipe is basic but it was challenging to write out.
Omelette making is muscle-memory, so having to learn the french variation and slow down felt like trying to ride a bike side-saddled.
It took about an hour and a half from laying out the ingredients, to eating the finished thing. I had to take a break in the middle of cutting veggies as my wrists are flaring up, so you could probably go faster unimpeded.
What would you rate this recipe out of 10?(with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
1 large daikon, chopped
½ lbs fatty bacon, chopped
2 shallots
3 cloves of garlic
3 Eggs
Salt
Pepper
Some arugula (for garnishing)
OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)
Method:
Chop your bacon into roughly ½ inch squares. Cut off the ends of your daikon and cube the rest. Thinly dice your shallots and crush your garlic cloves.
Bring a cast iron skillet to medium-high heat. Once at temp, carefully add your chopped bacon to the pan with a very small amount of water.
Add your chopped bacon and stir-fry until almost cooked.
Add your shallots and garlic. Cook for about a minute or until the shallots have softened.
Transfer the bacon, shallot, and garlic mix to a bowl. Set aside. Lower the cast iron skillet to medium heat.
Place your daikon cubes in the cast iron skillet, you should still have enough bacon grease. Add salt and cook until lightly browned on each side.
Add roughly 1 tablespoon of water. Lower heat and cover. Simmer for 2 minutes.
Once your daikon are softened, transfer to same bowl containing your bacon, shallots, and garlic.
Crack your eggs into a seperate bowl and whisk for 2 minutes until 'frothy' with no egg whites visible.
Bring the cast iron skillet back up to medium heat. There might not be enough bacon grease left, so feel free to add butter! If the butter browns you've gone too hot.
Pour your eggs into the skillet. Use a spatula to spread the eggs, scraping down the sides of the pan. Sprinkle salt and pepper in, to taste.
Once your eggs are mostly solid, pour the bacon, shallot, garlic, and daikon filling into the center. If it starts to separate- stop touching and let it rest. Gently fold the edges of the omelette overtop the filling.
Lay a few pieces of arugula on a plate, and flip your omelette onto it :) enjoy!
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xtra7s · 3 months
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LOVE your g!p!renee/regina smut
i can’t stop thinking abt a g!p!renee dom x sub reader where the reader gets high and used by renee w lots of praise & oral fixation ,, i think you would kill it 🫢
𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 ─── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
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Synopsis: Renee gets Y/N high and they have a little fun.
Content: Renee Rapp x gn!reader, Dom!Renee, Sub!reader, Cunnilingus, Oral Fixation, Breeding, Substances, R is high as fuck, Praise
Word Count: 2.7k
a/n: Loved this request, hope i did it justice baby
masterlist
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The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the crowded room as Reneé Rapp and Y/N navigated their way through the lively party. The air was filled with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation.
Reneé, with her infectious energy and captivating presence, led Y/N to a more secluded corner of the room where the bass was a bit less overwhelming. They exchanged playful glances, their connection palpable even in the dim lighting of the party.
"So, what do you think of this place?" Reneé asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Y/N grinned, feeling the warmth of the evening and the buzz of the party. "It's wild. Definitely not what I expected, but I like it."
Reneé smirked, reaching into her clutch and pulling out a small bag. "Speaking of wild, ever tried one of these?" She dangled a brownie edible in front of Y/N.
Y/N's eyes widened with curiosity. "What is it?"
Reneé chuckled, "Just a little something to spice up the night. Trust me, you'll love it."
Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with the flow. "Alright, let's do it."
Reneé handed her the edible, their fingers brushing against each other. The air was charged with a mix of nerves and excitement as Y/N took bites of the brownie, finishing it off. They continued to enjoy the party, dancing and chatting, the subtle allure of the edible slowly taking effect.
As the night progressed, Y/N felt a pleasant warmth spreading through her body. The room seemed to warp and twist in a delightful haze. Reneé, always the life of the party, leaned in closer, her lips dangerously close to Y/N's ear.
"You feeling alright there?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Y/N grinned the edges of her reality softening. "Yeah, I'm feeling… really good."
Reneé chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Y/N's arm. "Glad to hear it, babe."
The effects of the edible continued to weave a dreamy haze around Y/N as they found themselves on a cozy couch surrounded by a few other people. The room was filled with laughter and the mellow beats of music, creating a laid-back atmosphere. Reneé, always attuned to the vibe of the moment, produced a rolled blunt from her pocket with a sly grin.
"Care for a little more adventure?" she asked, holding the blunt delicately between her fingers.
Y/N chuckled, feeling the warmth of the edible enhancing the easygoing mood. "Why not? It's that kind of night."
Reneé's smile widened as she sparked the blunt, the flame casting a warm glow on her features. She took a leisurely puff before passing it to Y/N. The fragrant smoke curled into the air as Y/N brought the blunt to their lips, inhaling deeply.
The room seemed to shift and sway with each exhale, the atmosphere becoming even more intoxicating. The group on the couch shared stories, laughter, and the occasional passing of the blunt, creating a sense of camaraderie. Y/N found themselves drawn into the conversation, feeling a deeper connection with Reneé and the others in the circle.
"wanna get out of here?" Renee murmured, her thighs pressed tightly against Y/N's as they sat on the couch, her leaning in to whisper in Y/N's ear.
Y/N nodded, and they navigated through the party, finding a more secluded room. The atmosphere was intimate, and the laughter from the party dulled to a distant hum. Reneé and Y/N shared a comfortable silence, the unspoken tension between them growing more palpable.
Reneé leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/N's earlobe. "You know," she whispered, "I like you. A lot."
Y/N's heart raced, the words sending shivers down her spine. "I like you too, Reneé."
With that admission, the gap between them closed, and their lips met in a heated kiss.
The room spun gently as Y/N found themselves lying on a bed, the effects of the edible and the blunt intensifying the sensation of weightlessness. Reneé, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and desire, hovered above Y/N. The dim glow of the room added to the dreamlike quality of the moment.
Reneé's lips met Y/N's in a slow, languid kiss, the taste of the lingering smoke and the sweetness of the edible blending into an intoxicating combination. Y/N's senses were heightened, and every touch, every movement, sent shivers through their body.
Unable to move much, Y/N surrendered to the experience, sinking deeper into the softness of the bed. Reneé's fingers traced patterns on Y/N's skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The world outside the room faded away, leaving only the two of them entangled in a haze of desire and euphoria.
Reneé pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You doing okay there?"
Y/N managed a lazy smile, their limbs feeling heavy but content. "I feel.. heavy."
Reneé chuckled, her fingers gently playing with Y/N's hair. "Just relax, enjoy the moment."
Y/N's mind swirled with a mix of emotions, the high amplifying the intensity of each touch and caress.
Reneé leaned in once more, her lips brushing against Y/N's ear. "You know, you're even more beautiful when you're like this."
Y/N's cheeks flushed with a combination of warmth and the realization of the genuine connection between them. The world outside the room ceased to exist as Y/N and Reneé lost themselves in the shared bliss of the moment.
The room pulsed with a rhythmic beat that seemed to synchronize with the pounding of Y/N's heart. As Y/N lay on the bed, a euphoric haze enveloping them, Reneé couldn't resist the magnetic pull drawing her towards Y/N's lips. The air was charged with an intoxicating mixture of desire and the lingering effects of the substances they had indulged in.
Reneé's lips grazed Y/N's neck, leaving a trail of delicate kisses that sent shivers down their spine. Y/N's senses were heightened, each touch a symphony of pleasure that echoed through their body. The room seemed to blur at the edges as Reneé's lips found Y/N's, the kiss deepening into a passionate exchange.
Unable to resist the allure of Y/N's skin, Reneé planted soft kisses along their jawline, gradually making her way to the sensitive spot on their neck. Each kiss left a mark, a visible testament to the intensity of the moment. Reneé couldn't help but revel in the intoxicating mixture of the high and the electric connection between them.
Y/N let out a soft sigh, their fingers lightly tracing patterns on Reneé's back. The room spun with a heady combination of desire and bliss. Reneé continued her exploration, leaving a trail of hickeys that marked the passage of their shared ecstasy.
Reneé pulled back, her eyes locking with Y/N's, a fire burning within. "You're driving me crazy," she confessed, her voice husky.
Y/N's lips curved into a hazy smile, their words slurred with the effects of the substances. "Good kind of crazy, I hope."
Reneé chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "The best kind." She leaned in once more, their lips meeting in a searing kiss that left no room for anything but the intoxicating connection between them.
Renee's eyes were full of desire as she hovered over Y/N on the bed. Her hand traced down their body, stopping at the waistband of their pants. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "I've been thinking about this moment for days."
Y/N swallowed hard, heart pounding in anticipation. They trusted Renee implicitly, but this was a new experience for them nonetheless. As they gazed at the ceiling, patterns formed and dissolved in the textured surface, creating a captivating kaleidoscope. The music from the party outside seemed to echo through the walls, each beat resonating with the rhythm of Y/N's heartbeat.
Reneé's voice, soft and melodic, reached Y/N's ears, drawing them into a world of warmth and comfort. Every giggle and whispered word carried a playful echo, and the air seemed to shimmer with a pleasant energy. The mere thought of having Renee's mouth on them sent shivers down their spine.
Renee's fingers deftly unfastened Y/N's pants, sliding them down along with their underwear until they lay exposed before her. She pulled off the rest of Y/N's clothes, and Renee's eyes widened at the sight, her gaze lingering on every inch of flesh revealed. "You're so wet," she whispered, leaning in to lick a slow trail up Y/N's inner thigh.
Y/N gasped, arching into the touch. Her back arched off the mattress, offering herself fully to Renee's expert mouth. Their fingers threaded through Renee's hair, guiding her closer to their core. "Please," they slurred, moving their hands as much as they could to hold Renee's waist.
Renee pushed Y/N's hand off of her, "No touching, love." She spoke with a murmur, leaving hickeys on the inside of Y/N's thighs.
Y/N pleaded, their voice shaky with need. "Please, Renee."
Renee grinned wickedly, licking her lips in anticipation. She positioned herself deeper between Y/N's legs, taking a deep breath before diving in. Her tongue flicked against their clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Y/N's body. Their hips bucked involuntarily, pushing against her mouth.
Renee didn't hesitate, sucking Y/N's sensitive nub into her mouth and sucking gently. Her tongue darted out, teasing every crevice and fold, sending them into a frenzy of pleasure. "Oh god," Y/N moaned, grabbing onto the sheets for support.
When Y/N closed their eyes, a tapestry of vibrant colors unfolded behind their eyelids, a visual symphony that danced to the rhythm of their thoughts. The boundary between imagination and reality blurred, and Y/N found themselves lost in a dreamscape of swirling emotions and sensations.
Their body trembled under Renee's expert touch, each stroke bringing them closer to the edge. Sweat dripped down their forehead, mingling with the saliva from Renee's lips. Their breaths came in short gasps, each one punctuated by cries of delight.
Renee knew she had to be careful; she wanted this to last as long as possible. But the sight of Y/N's pleasure-drenched face was almost too much to bear. She increased the intensity of her licks, wrapping her hand around their cock and stroking it in tandem with her mouth. The dual stimulation had Y/N writhing beneath her, their moans growing louder with each passing second.
Renee could feel Y/N's orgasm building, just within reach. She wanted to be the one to push them over the edge, to make them scream her name in ecstasy. Her tongue darted out one last time, flicking their clit with lightning-like speed.
Y/N cried out, arching off the bed as her orgasm hit like a freight train. Her pussy clenched around Renee's mouth, milking every last drop of pleasure from her. Renee lapped up every drop, savoring the taste of Y/N's release before reluctantly pulling away.
Renee's eyes locked with Y/N's, her heart pounding with anticipation. She had never been with anyone high before, but this situation excited her. She positioned herself between Y/N's legs, her cock poised at the entrance of their pussy.
"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Y/N nodded, their eyes heavy-lidded from the high. "I'm ready," they slurred, their body trembling with anticipation.
With one powerful thrust, Renee entered Y/N, burying herself to the base. Their eyes widened in surprise, but it was quickly replaced by a look of pure pleasure. "Oh god," Y/N gasped, their voice hoarse with need. Renee started to move, setting a steady rhythm that matched their breathing. Their hips ground together, creating friction that sent sparks flying between them as sweat dripped down their bodies.
Y/N's moans echoed through the room, a mix of pleasure and disbelief at how good it felt. "You feel amazing," Renee panted, her voice thick with desire. "I could fuck you all night."
Y/N blinked, her eyes hazy with lust. "Please, don't stop" she managed to say between breaths.
Y/N moaned, a blissful smile playing on their lips. The room, filled with the scent of lingering smoke and the soft glow of dim lights, became a sanctuary of euphoria.
Renee increased the pace, thrusting harder and faster into Y/N's welcoming core. Their moans filled the room, mixed with the slapping sounds of flesh against flesh. Their breaths came out in ragged gasps, each one punctuated by cries of delight.
She reached down, cupping Y/N's jaw and neck in her hands. "Look at me," she commanded softly. "Look into my eyes while I fuck you."
Y/N complied, their gaze hazily locked with Renee's. The intensity of the connection only heightened their pleasure, making every thrust feel more intense. "fuck you feel so good baby" Renee murmured, lost in the moment.
She didn't break stride, continuing to thrust into Y/N as she spoke again. "You're taking my dick so good" she hummed out.
Y/N moaned loudly, her orgasm exploding like a firework within her as she came again. Her pussy clenched around Renee's cock, milking every inch of her as she came. Renee rode out the waves with her, their lips locked in a fierce kiss that tasted of sweat and desire.
As Y/N's orgasm subsided, Renee followed suit, her own release drawing near. She thrust harder and faster, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm that would never end. "I'm going to cum," she panted, her voice strained with need.
Y/N gripped Renee's hips, urging her onward. "Come for me," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. "I want to feel it."
Renee shuddered, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Renee shuddered, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she spilled her essence inside Y/N. Their cries mingled together, filling the room with the raw intensity of their passion.
When it was all over, they collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily and clutching each other tight. Their bodies glistened with sweat and cum, a testament to the intensity of their union. Renee leaned in, pressing soft kisses against Y/N's forehead.
The room slowly settled into a serene calm as Y/N and Reneé lay on the bed, their breaths intermingling with the remnants of the euphoria that had enveloped them. The once vibrant colors and swirling patterns now softened, giving way to a tranquil atmosphere.
Y/N's limbs felt like they were made of cotton, a gentle heaviness replacing the weightless sensation that had characterized the peak of their high. As they came down from the intoxicating cloud, the world around them seemed to regain a semblance of clarity.
Reneé, lying beside Y/N, traced lazy patterns on their skin, her fingers creating a soothing rhythm that echoed the soft rise and fall of their breaths. The room was filled with a languid energy, and the air was charged with a quiet intimacy.
Reneé's lips found their way to Y/N's neck, leaving a trail of tender kisses that contrasted with the earlier fervor. Each touch was a gentle reminder of the shared journey they had embarked on throughout the night. Y/N sighed, the sensation of Reneé's lips against their skin sending shivers down their spine.
"I like this," Reneé whispered, her voice a soft murmur against Y/N's neck. "Just lying here, feeling each other's breaths."
Y/N nodded, a contented smile playing on their lips. The residual warmth from the high mixed with the delicate touch of Reneé's kisses created a cocoon of comfort and connection.
As the room bathed in the gentle glow of subdued lights, the two exchanged quiet words, sharing thoughts and emotions in the stillness of the moment. The outside world seemed distant, leaving only the hushed sounds of their breaths and the tender exchange of affections.
Reneé lifted her head to meet Y/N's gaze, her eyes reflecting a shared understanding. "You okay?"
Y/N nodded, a lingering smile on their face. "Yeah, more than okay."
The room held them in a tranquil embrace as they lay there, their breaths gradually syncing in a rhythm of shared calm. In the quiet aftermath of the night, Y/N and Reneé found solace in the simple beauty of being together, their connection deepening with each passing breath.
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thebirdsandthebats · 7 months
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Okay @s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e I’m sure you know plenty BUT I’m going to use your wonderful and hilarious comment on this as an excuse to talk about Bernard, bc I realized recently that there are plenty of ppl who haven’t read most of the comics he’s been in. So get ready for my long overdue:
UNPACKING BERNARD DOWD + HIS TRAUMA (for those who cannot keep up with comics but want to get to know him)
So to start, Tim met Bernard years ago ofc, when they were in high school. It’s established pretty quick that Bernard is an extremely Unserious guy LMAO, the first thing he does is literally circle Tim and try to feel him out socially, see what kind of guy he is. He’s the kind of guy who gets himself in trouble with his big mouth, and seems to enjoy poking at Tim and testing his patience. By the time we meet Bernard again in the recent years, he’s grown a lot, but at his core he’s still the light-hearted, fun, goofy guy with very strong opinions. Just less stand-offish, maybe
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Throughout the time Tim spends at this school though, Bernard does experience some wild shit. He lost Darla (somebody he really cared about), he experienced a shooting at his school, and then Darla came back from the dead, kind of scared the hell out of him, and used him to contact Tim again. It was kind of played for laughs, but like. That’s gotta fuck you up. (Robin #140)
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Obviously this is the kind of thing that maybeee has a lasting effect on you. And BECAUSE Tim Drake: Robin got cut so short and the writer had to rush to wrap up the series, we’re left to fill in a lot of gaps and draw conclusions about the years we didn’t see Bernard ourselves. But we absolutely get some insight as to his life after Tim left that school and we stopped seeing him in the comics. Spoiler alert: it was hard.
In TDR, Bernard discusses the the cult that he’d been in that Tim saved him from in Urban Legends. He says that “he’d accepted himself”, but others hadn’t. Obviously there’s the natural reading that he means his queerness (which has me chewing through drywall), but I think that he’s speaking very broadly too. Bernard is a very odd example of a civilian, because he’s always getting dragged into things much bigger than him. And even before that, he had his big ideas, his conspiracies, his loud personality. He tended to rub people the wrong way in high school. Then in issue #7 of TDR (the Bernard pov issue my most beloved, weird pacing aside) Bernard refers to this “oozy, sticky feeling” that he ALWAYS feels when Tim isn’t around. He says when he’s alone it’s harder to put one foot in front of the other. To keep GOING. To wake up every day.
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I think that Bernard has always felt like an outcast. (Robin #121, he doesn’t fit into any clique). He wasn’t as okay with it as he acted. And I think he wasn’t getting any attention from his parents. (Batman: Urban Legends #5, Bernard’s parents nonchalance to the days leading up to his kidnapping)
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So just like Bernard explained to Tim, that feeling got bad. and he wanted to let go. The chaos monsters, the cult, all of it was a means to an end. But then Tim agreed to see him again, and I think that sparked something in him. Because he started learning to fight. When he was tied down to that alter and Tim was saving him, I think it fully sank in to Bernard that he didn’t want to die. Reconnecting with Tim gave him hope and made him really feel something good for the first time in ages.
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So now that they’re dating after the cult fiasco, we get to know this current Bernard. A less goading, maybe calmer Bernard. But he’s still himself, of course, rambling about his ideas and making bad jokes and sticking to his guns (he has NEVER been a pushover, no idea where people get that idea?). I think a lot of people complained that Bernard mellowed out too much in terms of attitude, but I think if he seems “nicer” it’s because 1) he’s grown now. It’s been a while since we last saw him, and he’s clearly changed a lot. And 2) because he’s dating Tim now. He likes him a lot, and he’s an affectionate partner. He wants to lift Tim up.
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But the fact that he was pulled into a cult still remains. And as lighthearted as Bernard tries to be, that traumatic experience still happened. It said in Urban Legends #5 while Tim was searching for him that Bernard had welts on his arms and legs and had been acting different, so it’s not like he was just snatched up on a whim. He’d spent significant time there. For those who haven’t read much abt the ways cult trauma specifically can fuck you up, I recommend doing a search if you’re in a good headspace for that and want to understand him more. because it’s pretty bad.
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And then! yeah. you guessed it. Bernard gets kidnapped again. Chained up next to a BOMB that’s counting down. RIGHT WHEN HE’S WORKING ON HEALING FROM ALMOST BEING SACRIFICED BY A CULT.
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And surely this can’t get crazier. He’s almost died twice in the past 6 months. except, remember his parents? In TD:R #7, we really see a little more of his relationship with his parents. He doesn’t live up to their standards, and his dad specifically seems to just want to argue with him. The restaurant they’re at is attacked, and everything goes to shit, and. you know, I think these panels really speak for themselves.
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And for the record, when it’s revealed that everyone is seeing their worst fears, Bernard’s parents fears are not about him.
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So now Bernard has to deal with that. And we start to see that Bernard is really not as okay as he’s tried to be. He keeps a baseball bat by his door because he’s been kidnapped twice now. And just when he’d likely thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard the Chaos Monsters were back. I can’t imagine he feels safe. He lashes out for the first time since all this has happened and yells at Kate and Tim, because while they’re doing what they feel is necessary to save more people (AND I DONT BLAME THEM AT ALL), Bernard can’t talk about it.
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And I will forever be sad and insist that TD:R got cancelled too soon, just before we could get into the really juicy stuff, because things had to be wrapped up pretty quick and this was the only comic Bernard was consistently appearing in. But when Tim is giving himself up to the chaos monsters, Bernard goes out and rallies anyone he knows can help. Things were rushed because there was no more time to flesh out the story the way it could have been, but I’m including these panels just because I love Bernard Audacity Dowd using a fucking flashlight and shadow puppet to call Batman. geeking out for a minute. And then leading the battalion to save Tim with a SLEDGEHAMMER. gay people rule.
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So yeah! While I see the vision of how a lot of Bernard’s trauma was meant to be semi-resolved and let him come to peace after saving Tim back, we just didn’t have the time for him to heal properly. I’d give anything to get inside his brain again. UHH IF YOU READ THIS I HOPE YOU LOVE BERNARD NOW and don’t come at me if I left something out, some of my comics aren’t with me rn. Bonus TimBer for the road:
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luckycloverforducks · 2 months
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Fuck it, HH swap AU
Their core personalities and backgrounds stay the same, it's mostly a role switch
Niffty <--> Husker
Angel Dust <--> Vaggie
Alastor <--> Charlie
(the typical for swap AUs, I know,,)
Everyone else stays the same
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These r edits bc I was just figuring out their designs for the AU, I'll draw them normally another time (Husker isn't here cuz I can't find a good png of the mf)
In this AU Alastor started the hotel mostly because he randomly thought up the idea once and thought, "that's fucking hilarious, I'm doing that" + a secondary sentimental reason he'd kill me for saying (he got genuinely fully invested in the cause eventually)
He advertised it on his radio show suddenly out of the blue after 7 and a half years of radio (lol) silence. Alastor still owns Husker's and Niffty's souls but they're also obviously friends (or atleast close to it)
Also he can read tarot bc why not :3
Charlie is closer to her dad in this AU and more sheltered, adopting a more aloof, smug, and dangerous persona so sinners take her seriously, she also has a very slight condescending outlook towards sinners but she's at her core still compassionate and still views them as her people and want to protect them to a certain extent, and she still thinks the Exterminations are unnecessary and cruel, but she doesn't feel like she can do much about it since according to Lucifer's stories and discouragement, she knows heaven likely wouldn't listen much if at all, but when she heard of Alastor's little project it resparked hope in her and she decided to invest in it, becoming co-owner and funder for the hotel.
Angel Dust/Anthony never made a deal with Valentino and actually stayed in his family's crime/mafia business for the 1st half of him being in Hell, but his dad is a POS and kicked him out for being gay so he started doing s3x work, and then he met Alastor after he brutalized his harassers one day, and Angel wanted to repay the favor somehow. Alastor seems interested in him so they struck a deal (not a soul deal, just a simple deal) which has Angel/Anthony is under Alastors protection in exchange for Angel/Anthony's loyalty and assistance when needed (which is a rare case so Angel still feels like he owes Alastor). They grow friendly with time, and Alastor offers to have him be patient zero for his redemption project, and he accepted.
Vaggie/Vi is still a fallen exterminstor and still met Charlie the same way she did in the show, but after that they went their separate ways and Vi finds herself making a deal with Velvette. Instead of being a pornstar like Angel in the show, she is an influencer and a rockstar/singer, she does enjoy making music and playing the guitar but Velvette tends to overwork her and make her do things she doesn't really like for views/popularity. Velvette is the nicest to Vi/Vaggie compared to with her other employees (which isn't a very highly set bar tbh) but she also frequently break her boundaries.
Vi met Charlie again during one of her concerts and they got close and started dating. (Also one sided Velvette x Vaggie is sort of slightly maybe canon in this AU bc toxic Yuri is fun (and it's only fully one sided after Charlie and Vaggie/Vi started dating))
She helps manage the hotel when needed, but is honestly only there cause Charlie is.
Not much about Niffty changes tbh (she's perfect the way she is, utterly unhinged 😍) she's just a bit more mellowed out and less hyper (she's still hyper just not all the time like in the show) and she's also a bartender and has surprisingly good taste for alcohol, and also frequently makes borderline poisonous drinks while experimenting, but when she gets it right it's really good. Doesn't stop the others of being terrified of her drinks though
Husker is a more smiley and charming in this AU, using a laid back attitude to put people at ease and more willing to open up to him if they need to (he used to use the information people share as blackmail when he needs to back when he was an Overlord, although he never actually needs to spread anything, just threats), and he's still very observant but he's also slightly more unhinged- He's a sort of butler/cleaner for the hotel
He still gets grumpy time to time, but mostly when he's drunk, which isn't as often anymore ever since Niffty was put in charge of the bar (understandably so)
He has a bit of an anger issue and also gets annoyed easily, and sometimes makes unhinged threats as a sort of joke (they stop being much of a joke once you genuinely piss him off)
He likes things clean and tidy because it helps him pretend to be put together
He and Alastor are a bit friendlier compared to in the show, hes still one of the few people that knows more about Alastor, though hes still bummed about the whole being owned by Alastor thing (Husker can also read tarot to a lesser extent bc Al taught him for funzies and Husker thought it's interesting)
His gambling addiction is also ever so slightly worse
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samkerrworshipper · 3 months
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warmed - mapi leon x reader
just r cockwarming mapi.. not much more to it lol
ik i keep promising yall angst… its coming… at some stage
warnings: smut 18+
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You’re overstimulated.
To the point where your skin is beginning to itch with the want and need that is pooling up in the pit of your stomach, right where you feel so full and so empty at the same time.
You fucked up, you were well aware of it, it wasn’t like you could make up for it now.
This though, this was so rewarding and unrewarding at the same time, you were stuffed full to the very brim which was perfect, but also so unfulfilling at the same time.
“Keep still or we start over.”
Mapi’s words are a brutal reminder of exactly what position you are in, crammed down against her lap, ass flush to her hips whilst you try your very hardest not to grind or jostle against her.
An hour and thirty minutes.
That’s how long you’ve been sitting in Mapi’s lap like this, no pleasure, no release, no relief.
The two of you had to rewatch your game from yesterday anyways, so Maria had set you the task of staying still whilst she analysed the match against Levante.
You were supposed to be analysing it as well, but it was kind of hard to pay attention when you were filled to the brim with 7 inches of silicone cock.
You wished Maria had given you the easy way out, wished she’d spanked you or edged you or done something else that would make you feel something besides mellowed out pressure.
“Maria.”
Your words are whined out for the room to hear, not that there is anybody else in your company.
“Eyes on the screen, carino.”
Your eyes struggle to obey her command, your pupils stuck to your naked bottom half that’s unmoving.
“I won’t say it again, eyes on the screen unless you want a spanking once we’re done.”
Your eyes snap up, what you want once this is done is for Mapi to fuck you senseless, you aren’t sure if you can handle another minute with her just idly sitting inside you.
“Eight more minutes princesa, you think you can hold up for me until then?”
You groan at her, you want to say no, but the words can’t make it past your lips, Maria seems to understand though.
“Tough luck, make it through the eight minutes or else you won’t cum for the rest of the week. I’m sick of your shit attitude and bratty fucking mouth, you have to learn some way.”
Mapi’s voice is gritty, you know that she wanted nothing more than to come back from dinner, cuddle up on the couch and watch the game replay before the two of you went to bed together.
She wanted soft, sweet, tender.
You wanted mean, rough and hard.
You supposed this was the halfway point, it was Maria’s way of punishing you without giving in to what you wanted.
You’d been obtusely bratty and cheeky.
The two of you had been invited out for dinner with Alexia and Olga, a little quaint double date to a cute boutique Italian restaurant in Barcelona’s core.
It was nice, everything had been going well, until you’d made the decision to start teasing Mapi.
It had started with a hand on her exposed thigh, then your fingers drawing patterns up and down, pushing her skirt out of the way as you paved a path through to her panties.
You were out of your mind thinking Mapi would let it slide, she told you as much when she leant over to your ear telling you not to push her. You’d blatantly ignored her, continuing your attempts at one upping the defender. You got as far as the inside edge of her panties before her hand was grabbing yours and shoving it into your lap with a look of so much annoyance that you knew you were in deep shit.
Now you were here, sitting practically speared on her dick, your juices leakingout all over her thighs and your own.
You watched the clock run down, your eyes aimlessly following the ball as it was passed from side to side on the pitch.
Your legs were aching from the position you were being held in, your thighs being put to use to keep you from moving.
“Maria, please.”
You knew that most likely, your begging was going to be pointless, normally Mapi couldn’t of cared less, but it was worth a shot.
“Say one more word and you’ll see just how much worse this can get for you.”
You close your lips, your eyes staying laser focused on the screen as the clock ticks down on the game.
The last thirty seconds are possibly the worst, your legs start to burn and everything is so much more painful.
As soon as the final whistle blows on the game Mapi is turning you around, so you are now face to face with the Spaniard.
“This is how it’s going to go, we’re going to go to bed, I’m going to fuck you how I like, until I’m satisfied, you won’t cum, you won’t move unless you’re told, all you are here for is to be my little slut for my pleasure, not your own, comprendida?”
You can’t do anything beyond nodding your head.
Mapi picks you up with ease, lifting you up and taking you straight to the bedroom.
Just the feeling of her cock jolting inside of you every few seconds has you moaning, Mapi doesn’t care, all she cares about is getting you to where she wants you.
She manhandles and roughouses you onto the bed, pushing you up against the pillows and spreading your legs open before beginning to move inside of you.
Mapi’s pace is nowhere near fast or rigorous enough to satisfy you, when she said that she was searching for her own pleasure you didn’t realise that she would quite literally use your body as a vessel for her orgasm.
There is no doubt in your mind that Mapi has the little vibe insert tucked into the strap.
Her thrusts into you are shallow, hitting none of the spots that you need her to.
It’s crazily unpleasurable, and yet you don’t find yourself minding too much, especially not when Maria is the picture of perfection, her messy bun bopping up and down, her moans echoing out across the room.
You focus on Mapi, completely syncing out of your own mind, trying to imagine how Mapi is feeling.
You know that your supposed ‘punishment’ would have gotten her worked up, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
She’s chasing a built up desire, deep pure pleasure thrumming through her lower limbs.
Maria isn’t a overly loud lover, but you can tell just by the way her eyebrows are scrunched up and her pupils are blown that she is teetering somewhere on the edge, you aren’t quite sure where she’s at until her legs spasm and her whole body jerks.
Mapi cums hard and fast, her body thrusting into yours until the after effects of her orgasm have managed to rid her body and she pulls out.
You feel emptier than you ever have, most likely a result of being stuffed full for hours on end.
Mapi makes quick work of removing the strap, once she does she lies herself down on the bed next to you, letting you breathe through the big feelings that you are experiencing.
“How are you feeling, princesa?”
Mapi’s hands are on your face, twisting the strays hairs out of your face and gently playing with them between her fingers.
“Good, just need a second.”
Your legs feel heavier than a hundred bricks, numb and weighed down to the point where you genuinely wonder whether they’ll be in use tomorrow.
“You want to cum? I think you’ve earned it, you were such a good little girl for me, princesa.”
You do want your own orgasm, you think that your cunt will implode if it doesn’t get to experience some relief, but you need a few minutes to recover from the last hours happenings.
“Just gimme a minute, seeing you like that made me think and feel things I never had.”
Mapi’s smirk was cheeky, cavalier and slightly proud.
“Mm, next time it’ll have to be three hours, hmm? I wonder how crazy that would make you.”
You shake your head at the suggestion immediately, an hour and a half had been pushing it, 3 hours was simply ridiculous.
“How about I promise to never be a brat again?”
Mapi rolls her eyes, her mouth reaching down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“We both know that would be a lie, carino. You’re my bratty girl and I wouldn’t dare have you any other way. Now how about we go get clean in the shower and I let you get off on my thigh, hm? You’ve been good but not good enough to deserve my mouth or fingers, you’ll have to work your way up to that.”
You nod eagerly at Maria, already willing your legs to begin moving so that Mapi can’t take back what she’s just said to you.
When Mapi realises that you need some assistance, she picks you up, gently carrying you towards the bathroom.
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13uswntimagines · 3 months
Text
13 Eras of Us Era 2: It’s The First Kiss, It’s Flawless, Really Something, It’s Fearless (Taylor Swift X Morgan!Reader)
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13 Eras of us Era 1
This is the Era where R and Taylor finally get together. There is a little spice (very clearly marked). R and Alex start to work on their issues, and we learn a little bit more about R's past... situationships. The team learns about "burrito girl" and Kelley saves the day and keeps things on track.
August 2016
And isn’t it just so pretty to think 
All along there was some invisible string
While August was turning out slightly better than July, it was still weird. 
It was weird being at camp when you weren’t on the roster. Weird being around the people you called friends when most of them weren’t talking to you. 
But what made matters worse was that you had been called in hours before camp started. You had blindly thrown random clothing into a suitcase, rushing to not miss the flight Christen, Alyssa, and JJ were on, all while calling your teammates to find one willing to watch your dogs on such late notice. 
Part of you even considered calling Tony, the bodyguard who had strangely stayed in town despite Taylor’s departure, hoping that maybe he could at least check on them until you could guilt one of your teammates into taking them. 
The older couple that lived next to you would let him in, you knew. 
You had given Mr. And Mrs. Rossi keys two days after you had moved in when they brought over a pan of ravioli and introduced themselves. 
You were just lucky that Niki Stanton had answered you just before you boarded the plane with a yes, so you hadn’t had to ask. 
You didn’t want to bug Taylor more than you had to. You didn’t want to assume that Tony would want to help you. 
You sighed, tugging the special 3rd knot on your cleats to make sure it was tight. 
It wasn’t like you would actually be training with the team. You would be there to partner for drills. To make sure that everyone else was prepared to face Ireland. 
The only problem was that it seemed like no one wanted you to partner with them.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. 
Rose and Emily had sent you regretful smiles as Jill directed you to pair with one of the forwards for a passing drill. Alex had already been claimed by Lindsey and Tobin and Christen had chosen each other. 
It left you on the bench, trying to pretend like it didn’t hurt that the rest of the team had lost so much faith in your abilities that they wouldn’t even look in your direction. 
You blew out another breach, checking your left cleat again. 
“Can I partner with you?” Mal asked sheepishly, blocking the beating sun from your face. 
You squinted up at her, your lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “Don’t know if you wanna risk my bad luck rubbing off on you,”
“You don’t have bad luck,” She said, her lips also lifting. “But I will take some of your magic if you’re offering,” 
“You never could get enough,” You wiggled your eyebrows. 
“You’re too much,” Mal chuckled, shaking her head. 
There was a glint in her eyes, one that reminded you of long summers at U15 camp flirting over ice cream cones, and talking about what the future held. It reminded you of an easier time before you had been crushed by expectations. Before there were any expectations. 
You weren’t sure if the feelings you had harbored were real, or just a figment created by excitement and feeling free for the first time. What you did know was that while your feelings had long since mellowed into platonic, the comfort her friendship brought you was still as strong as it ever had been. 
If you couldn’t be on the pitch, you would make damn sure she had the debut of her lifetime. 
She deserved that, and hopefully, you would prove yourself to the coaching staff and be allowed to rejoin the team. 
She grabbed your arm, and dragged you to your feet.“Come on, I don’t want to be late for my first practice,” 
You made a low noise of agreement, trudging after her. 
“Don’t look so glum,” Tobin said, nudging your arm as you stepped into line beside her, across from Mal. “It doesn’t suit your sunny personality,” 
You pulled a face at her, catching the ball with your right cleat as Mal sent it your way, and you tapped it to your left foot and sent it back. “I think a majority of my energy has been sapped by all of my friends hating me,” 
“They don’t,” Christen said simply, flicking her own ball back towards Tobin. 
“We could never hate you,” Alex chimed in, catching a pass from Lindsey. 
“Cause I’m really feeling the love,” You grumbled back, staring at the ball instead of meeting your sister's eyes. 
You could feel their gazes glued to you, and you could imagine the looks on their faces. 
You didn’t need to see it. 
“Alright ladies,” Jill clapped her hands, drawing the group's attention. “Let’s start with passing drills. Midfielders will pass to their forwards, and forwards will attempt to score while the defenders will try to stop you,” 
She gestured towards the line of waiting defenders on one side of the goalpost, and the 3 keepers waiting by the other. “If you score, you get to keep the point. If you don’t, the defense keeps it. The side with the most points at the end will get to skip 2 laps on the conditioning run at the end of practice,” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. 
Jill didn’t usually run drills like this. This was something reminiscent of one of Roary’s drills. 
She couldn’t have been talking to him, but if she was... If she listened to his opinion, then maybe what he said was true. 
Maybe he really did have the power to make or break you. 
It sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. 
You didn’t want to think about the… thank you you might owe him. Or how his suggestion of extra sessions might actually help. 
“Likewise, the keepers will also try to stop you so select the best shot, not just the easiest,” Jill continued, and you blinked back to yourself. “Questions?”
You shook your head along with the group. 
It didn’t matter who had come up with it. All that mattered was that you showed Jill that you belonged on the roster. That you made her regret not including you. 
“Ready to put on a show?” Mal bumped you as Lindsey and Alex started the drill. 
Alex easily outpaced Becky to get into position, but Lindsey had a harder time faking out Kelley, taking an extra second to make the defender step before she sent a perfect through ball into Alex’s path. 
“Always,” You breathed out as the ball left Alex’s foot, sailing through the air before pinging off of the crossbar. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, and you dragged your eyes away to look at Mal. “Don't miss,” 
A devilish grin took over Mal’s features. “Don’t worry Ducky, I can’t miss with your magic,” 
She winked at you, and you rolled your eyes. 
You hated that nickname. Not as much as others you had been given. Not enough to ask Mal to get rid of it, not when she liked it so much. 
You stepped up to the ball and focused on Emily across from you as Mal did the same with Abby. 
Nicknames could wait until after you had shown them all why you belonged. 
OoOoOoO
You let out a long breath, standing over the ball as you stared at goal. 
You could hear your teammates behind you, chatting as they packed up their gear, but you did your best to tune them out. 
It didn’t matter to you that practice had ended nearly 15 minutes ago. All that you cared about was scoring from the spot. All you cared about was making sure you never missed another penalty again.
You took three steps back, your eyes flickering to the ball and then back towards goal. The back netting fluttered gently in the wind, like waving hands in the stands. 
You blew out one more breath and leaned into your run, counting down in your head. 
Your eyes never left the net as you took your three-step run up and blasted the ball toward the top right corner. 
It hit the net with a satisfying woosh, sending ripples through the material and rattling the woodwork. 
“Not bad,” 
You blinked at the approaching voice, turning to face the new number-one keeper of the USWNT. 
“Oh, thanks,” You nodded, blushing slightly and running a hand through your hair. You headed towards the goal to collect your ball and shoot again. 
You didn’t really interact with Alyssa, even in Chicago. Her quiet confidence always intimidated you. 
“Mind if I stand in goal for you?” She asked, trailing after you. “I wanna get some reps in,”
You paused, blinking at her. “You don’t have to do that for me,” 
She sent you a small smile. “I know. I want to,” 
You swallowed, flicking the ball up to your hands and tossing it towards her. “If you really want to,” 
“I do,” Alyssa caught it easily, looking at you for a long second. “When you send balls to the top right corner, you tilt your hips to the left in your run-up. It gives you away,” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t know you were doing that. 
“Try to stay square,” She continued. “It’ll make it harder to read you,” 
You hummed, biting the inside of your lip as you stepped back towards the spot. 
She rolled the ball towards you, and you carefully positioned it where you wanted it, and took three big steps back. 
You twisted your hips, trying to remember to keep them square as you did your run-up. 
Your eyes fell to the ball, and you let out a long breath, doing the countdown on your head as you dragged your gaze to meet Alyssa’s in goal. 
You leaned onto your toes, doing your run-up and forcing your hips to remain parallel. 
Now that you were in step, you could feel what Alyssa was talking back in the way you wanted to pull to your left for the windup. 
Your foot contacted the ball, and you watched as it flew much more slowly towards Alyssa’s outstretched fingertips. It brushed past her, landing in the net with a much less satisfying swish. 
“I just feel like I don’t have as much power,” You said, watching as Alyssa got back to her feet and fished the ball out of the back of the net. 
“I save goals, I don’t make them,” Alyssa shrugged, rolling the ball back in your direction. “You could ask maybe Pino or your sister,”
Your nose scrunched at the options. 
You would rather gargle thumbtacks than do either considering Pino was still pretending that you didn’t exist and Alex was… too much. 
She was trying too hard, pushing too much and it made you suspicious. Why did she care now when she hadn’t before? When she had been ignoring you since the ball left your foot in Rio? 
When the two of you had been at odds since she left for Berkeley?
“It was just a suggestion,” Alyssa said quickly as you tapped the ball back towards the spot. 
“I know,” You mumbled, repositioning the ball with your hands. “I’ll probably ask Mal later. She’s always been better at PKs anyway,” 
Alyssa hummed in agreement. She didn’t know you well enough to argue, and you seemed pretty close with the new striker. You had perked up considerably after partnering with her during practice, and the two of you had been unstoppable in the new set of drills Jill wanted to try(even if Jill made you sit the scrimmage out). 
She hoped that helping you with your PKs would only add to the good mood you had been riding. She hoped it would help to alleviate the dark cloud that had been following you since the Olympics. 
You were young and under more pressure than anyone your age should ever be placed under. As the captain of your club team, she felt it was her duty to actually do something about it. If that meant standing for a million of your PKs until you felt comfortable, then that’s exactly what she would do. 
You lined up behind the ball, squinting at it. She noticed how you tilted your hips back and forth trying to figure out the mechanics of your kick. 
It amazed her how easily you could adjust, and how smooth you made it look. 
If you could get rid of your little tells, you would be deadly in front of the net. Just as deadly as you were during normal play. 
She watched as you leaned forward on your toes, your feet shuffling as you prepared to kick. 
“Hey you two, we’re going to leave soon,” Alyssa blinked up at Kelley’s voice, just as the ball left your foot. 
She missed your kick, and the ball sailed easily into the net to her left. “We were just finishing up,”
Your shoulders rolled, and it looked like you wanted to argue, but no words left your lips. 
It worried her how much you sunk into yourself at Kelley’s appearance. How your good mood vanished in a second. 
She shared a look with Kelley over your shoulder, noting the worry in the defender's eyes. 
At least someone else saw it too. 
“Come on, you can sit by me at lunch,” Alyssa said, wrapping an arm over your shoulder and guiding you towards the bench with your gear. “We can talk more about ball placement,” 
You made a low noise and allowed her to pull you back towards the team. 
You would take any help you could get. 
 *****
“Where’s Ducky?” Mal asked as she set her plate down on the table beside Lindsey’s, leaving an empty chair on her other side for you. 
She thought practice had gone well, and the good mood you gained through practice stayed with you to the weight and film sessions that followed it. You seemed excited about dinner, hyping up Chef Teron’s cooking and promising that you would join her after you took a shower. 
“Ducky?” Kelley frowned, taking the seat opposite of her. 
“Y/n,” Mal said, glancing up at the defender.  “She found a baby duck at our first camp together,”
It was the truth, even if it wasn’t the entire story. Kelley didn’t need to know exactly how the nickname had been earned anyway. Mal was sure she wouldn’t want to know…
Lindsey shot her a look. A warning of sorts that while Kelley didn’t know the story, the full extent of Mal’s relationship with you, Lindsey definitely did. 
“Em’s not here either. I’m sure they’re just late. You know how they get when they’re together,” Lindsey said, dragging her eyes away from Mal to look at Kelley. 
Kelley shrugged. “It’s entirely possible,” 
You and Emily were known to get into trouble when the two of you were together. 
“What’s possible?” Emily asked, appearing through the meal room door alone. 
“That you and Y/n are late because you two are nuts when you’re together,” Lindsey said, stabbing a piece of her chicken. “It's why Paul banned it at u20 camp,” 
Mal rolled her eyes. “No. He stopped putting them together after Y/n was up for three nights straight because she lost a bet,” 
“That’s true,” Emily shrugged. “She was on the phone with the mysterious Taylor when I left. I didn’t want to wait for her anymore,” 
Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”
She had never heard of Taylor before. 
Emily's shoulders lifted and fell again. “The girl that Y/n isn’t dating but pretty much is,” 
“I’m not dating her,” You grumbled, finally joining the table. 
Mal frowned when you took the seat between Kelley and Emily instead of the seat she had saved for you. She slid the plate she had made for you across the table nonetheless, and you nodded in thanks. 
Emily rolled her eyes, ignoring the way you glared at the side of her head. “She flew to your apartment because she was worried about you, and then went to a shitty game that you only played in for 22 minutes,” 
“I scored a hat trick,” You muttered, stabbing at the pasta Mal had grabbed for you. “It wasn’t that shitty,” 
“I’m sorry, what?” Kelley blinked at you. 
She was usually the first person you told things to, despite how… strained things were between you and your sister at times. It felt very strange to her to be out of the loop. 
You let out a suffering sigh. “It’s nothing. Emily is just blowing everything out of proportion,” 
“Am I?” Emily asked incredulously. “Let me repeat, a girl flew across the country to see you because you were sad,” 
“She’s my friend,” You muttered. 
“Ok,” Kelley said, holding up her hand to stop whatever retort Emily was about to make. “It was very nice of your friend to visit,” 
You hummed, seemingly mollified. “It was. She got to try her first burrito,” 
“What kind of person has never had a burrito?” Lindsey snorted. 
And your shoulders lifted and fell. “She’s from Pennsylvania. I don’t think they’re popular there. Or in Nashville,” 
Emily opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but a sharp look from Kelley had her closing it again. 
The way to get information out of you was to drop the pressure, and let you share what you felt comfortable with, even if it wasn’t the juicy details that anyone really wanted. 
“Does she live in Nashville now?” Kelley asked, pretending like she wasn’t invested in the answer. 
Your nose scrunched, and you chewed your food thoughtfully. You had only visited her in Nashville so far, but you knew she spent a larger amount of time in New York. 
 “At least part-time,” You said, stabbing another set of noodles. “She splits her time between there, LA and New York,”  
“Nice, kid,” Kelley hummed. 
“It’s good to make friends,” Mal added, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, as you smiled brilliantly at her. 
She would believe you when you said that this… Taylor was your friend. After all, she was just your friend too. 
“What about friends?” Alex asked, appearing at the table, and placing her plate down next to Mal. 
“We were just talking about Y/n’s new friend,” Emily said, waggling her eyebrows. “Apparently she never had a burrito before she met your sister,” 
A disgusted look crossed Alex's face. “If that’s a sex thing, then I really don’t want to know about it,” 
“It’s not,” You huffed. “I think about more than just sex you know,” 
“You do? I’m shocked,” Alex deadpanned, and the table burst into bemused laughter. 
“You forgot that she thinks about soccer,” Emily cackled, nudging you. “And the dogs,” 
“Ah yes, the pack of mythological creatures,” Alex said, rolling her eyes. 
“So dogs, soccer, and sex. Seems pretty reasonable to me,” Kelley flicked the side of your head, and you jerked away from her. 
“I fucking hate you guys,” You ground out, stabbing another piece of your chicken, more bitterness than you meant leaking into your tone.
Mal’s head tilted to the side, as the comment only earned more laughter from the table. She noticed something she couldn’t place in Alex’s expression as the giggles died down. 
“I think she thinks a lot about penalty kicks too,” Lindsey added, chuckling. “It was all her and Alyssa would talk about at lunch,” 
Your face twisted into a grimace, and Mal knew at once that you didn’t find it funny. She saw Kelley’s arm shift next to you like a hand was placed on your leg to keep you from pushing yourself out of your seat. 
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment, and she leaned forward in her chair. 
“Your hips twist to the left when you aim for the top right corner,” She said, her voice going oddly gentle. “If you twist your plant foot outward, it’ll counter it so you can keep your hips square and still have the same power,” 
You froze, your forks halfway to your lips, and your back went rigid. 
It was one thing for Alyssa to offer her help, and another for your sister to do it. 
You bit back your retort that Alex had missed her kick too, that she was no better than you, and forced your fork to your mouth. 
You weren’t in a position to deny help. Even if you didn’t really want it. 
“I can show you later if you want,” Alex continued, seeming unphased by your stiffness. 
“Sure,” Your voice squeaked as you agreed, your eyes dipping. 
Alex’s smile was blinding. “Awesome. We can do it after dinner and before movie night,” 
Your chin barely moved as you nodded in agreement, chewing on your bite. 
Taking pointers from Alex was not a top thing on your to-do list. 
*****
“I just feel like it cuts my power in half,” You sighed, running a frustrated hand through your hair and turning away from the little goal the staff had set up for you. 
“You just need to find the right foot angle so your hips can get around it,” Alex positioned her hands as she explained it. “Just play with it for a bit. I’m sure you’ll get it,” 
You could feel her eyes on you like you were a specimen under a microscope, but you didn’t look up to meet her eyes. 
You couldn’t meet her eyes. 
It reminded you too much of when you were young. Of the hours the two of you would spend in the backyard, critiquing each other play after play. Of the summers you spent under the hot sun, practicing skill after skill until you could take out every other player you faced. 
It reminded you that Alex was more than a teammate. And that was too much. 
“Y/n,” Alex said, her voice going very soft, her hand landing warm and grounding on your shoulder. 
You sucked in a shaky breath. The two of you hadn’t been this close since she left for college. You hadn’t let her this close to you. 
“I’m fine, Alex,” You muttered, trying to shrug her hand off, but she didn’t let you. 
“You’re not,” Her fingers tightened on your shoulder. “And part of that is my fault,” 
Your jaw clenched. “You didn’t sky your penalty,” 
While Alex’s kick hadn’t gone in, it hadn’t been taken nearly as badly as yours was. The keeper had beaten her, while you had simply beaten yourself. 
“No,” She agreed softly. “But I also didn’t make sure you were ok afterward,” 
No. Afterward, everyone split off into different directions to handle their grief. Alex didn’t even say goodbye to you before flying out of Rio. 
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m an adult,” You said, finally looking up to meet her eyes. The eyes were a near-perfect replica of yours. “I’m fine. I’m playing well, and I’m showing everyone that I deserve to be here,” 
Alex nodded. 
She couldn’t disagree that you had been on fire since camp started. That the connection you and Mal had on the pitch was proving to be lethal, and that she was sure Jill regretted that you wouldn’t be eligible for the game against Australia. 
But she could see that you were not fine. 
She wished you trusted her enough to admit it. 
“You might be an adult, but you’re still my little sister,” Alex said, her voice still soft, but determined as she squeezed your shoulder again. “And I want to be there for you,” 
“Now you want to be here for me. Now that everyone is watching you care. Now when it’s convenient,” You muttered, finally pulling yourself free of her hand. 
Her eyes snapped towards you, and the bitterness in your tone. “What?”
You paced towards the ball, taking extra time to fish it out of the back of the net, watching it as you directed it back towards the penalty spot. 
“You care now because that’s what you think is expected of you,” You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “You care because it’s convenient for you now that we’re in the same place. When I go back to Chicago, you’re going to go back to not giving a fuck,” 
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Alex growled, catching your wrist, and whipping you around to face her. “I have never not given a fuck,” 
Your jaw worked like you were contemplating the next words to come out of your mouth, and you slowly looked up to meet her eyes. 
They weren’t the icy stone that she expected or the cold blue that she had become accustomed to. 
They were a deep turquoise, vibrant, and… open. Vulnerable in a way they hadn’t been since you were 9 years old. 
“You just left me,” You said. “And then I was alone,”
Something dark lingered under your words. Something that she knew you weren’t saying. Something that she had a feeling was far deeper than what happened after the Olympics. 
“You have never been alone,” Alex grit out, the hand on your arm tightening. 
You rolled your eyes, ripping away from her grasp for the second time. “Whatever Alex,” 
Alex opened her mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t let it fly. She paused, watching the way you focused back on the ball. You flicked it up onto your toe box, juggling it a few times before you let it fall perfectly on the penalty spot. 
She recognized the movement. It was the same one you used when you were young, and you felt too vulnerable to talk. When you needed to control your emotions. 
She let out a long breath, calming the agitation still simmering in her chest. 
You wouldn’t respond to anger and harsh retorts. No. She had to take a more gentle approach. One that wouldn’t threaten your vulnerability. 
“I shouldn’t have left right after the game in Rio,” She said softly, taking a very slow step toward you. “I’m sorry that I didn’t stay to make sure you were alright,” 
Your shoulders rolled, and you positioned yourself to take another kick. “I didn’t need you to stay,” 
“I also should have checked on you after we got back, instead of just assuming that you were fine,” She pushed on as if you hadn’t spoken.
A strange sort of grimace flashed across your features. One you tried to smother as you did your signature run-up, keeping your hips square (and turning your foot out slightly wider) as you took your kick.
The net swished as the ball made contact, banging into the top right corner with a satisfying rattle. 
It was still amazing to her how quickly you could make adjustments. How easy it was for you to figure out the body mechanics to make a slight change work. 
She took another step towards you. “I know I haven’t been there for you, but I want to be. Not because I think it’s what’s expected of me, but because you’re my sister and I love you,”
She wanted to reach out and catch your shoulder again. To force you to look at her, but she knew that wouldn’t help. 
All she could do was watch as the words filtered through your brain; as you worked them over in your head; as you realized that she wasn’t looking for a fight or defend herself and your posture very slowly relaxed. 
“There’s an app,” Alex continued, taking the last step towards you, getting so close that she was nearly brushing your back. “It tracks miles, and fitness, and calories, and I think it could help us reconnect if you want to try it,” 
She could see the way your jaw worked, as you stepped away from her to collect the ball from the net again like you were chewing on her both words and her offer. 
The offer she meant to make while the two of you were still in Rio. 
She waited as you rolled the ball out of the net, flipping it between your feet for a long minute before you finally looked up and met her eyes. “Ok,” 
She nodded, more to herself than to you, just thankful that you had responded at all. She hadn’t expected even that. 
“I love you,” She repeated softly, reaching out and catching your hand and squeezing in 3 slow pulses. 
You squeezed it in return. “I love you too,” 
The slight reluctance in your tone bothered her, but she would take what she could get with you. It was more than she had gotten in a very long time. 
You cleared your throat, breaking the comforting silence that stretched between you. “When I want to kick it left, would I just angle my plant foot in the opposite direction?”
She blinked, once, twice, 3 times. “Yeah. It’ll help you prevent your hips from telegraphing,” 
You hummed, turning away. 
She should have known that you wouldn’t comment further. That you would turn back to football as soon as you could. She knew it wasn’t personal. 
But she wished it didn’t sting as much. 
******
You glanced down at the new addition to your right wrist, shaking your hand and testing how much the little watch slid with the movement. You had been playing with it since Kelley passed it to you at breakfast. 
You didn’t know that Alex’s app required a stupid piece of jewelry, but you hadn’t had the heart to take it off yet. Not when she was actually trying. 
It was still irritating to you, and you worried that it would get in the way during your afternoon practice and lift session, even if you wouldn’t be allowed to join their walkthrough. 
You didn’t want to break it before you really got to use it. You didn’t think that your Red Stars salary would stretch enough to cover a new one. Not when you were planning extra trips to New York. 
You sighed, grabbing your cup of green juice and taking a large sip. 
You were probably going to have to budget more as it was. Flights weren’t cheap, and neither was food, or a hotel (even if Taylor insisted you could stay with her. As her best friend).
“Hey kid,” Jill said, knocking on the Hotel lobby table. “Got a second?”
You gulped down the liquid and gestured towards the empty couch across from you. “Always coach,”
She smiled and settled into the seat. You leaned forward in your own, your drink landing on the table with a thunk. 
“We’re placing you on the active roster for the game against Canada,” Jill said. “Roary said that you had been making slow improvements, but I wanted to see for myself. You’ve proven that you deserve the spot,” 
“I…-“ You blinked at her. “Thank you. I will not let you down,” 
She waved you off. “I’d like to see some nice linking with Mallory and your sister. I want to really push Trancredi and Chapman,” 
“I can do that,” You nodded seriously. You knew you could get balls to Alex and Mal. You knew you could stretch the defense. 
You were a menace on the pitch, especially when you had something to prove. 
You had everything to prove. 
“I know,” Her lips ticked up and she reached across the table to pat your knee as she stood. “Go eat. You’ll be joining full team practice after lunch, and dawn will have my head if you pass out,”
You matched her smile. “Yes, coach. Thank you,” 
“You’ve earned it,” She said, turning and heading off towards the meal room, but she paused before she exited the lobby. “And stop hiding from your friends,” 
You blushed but nodded in agreement anyway. She winked as she left, and you couldn’t help the bubbling laugh that left your lips, undeterred by her request to stop icing out the team. 
She invited you because she wanted to see your progress herself. She wanted to see if you were progressing as slowly as Roary said you were, and you had proven that you weren’t. You had proven you were an asset. 
You had proven them wrong. 
The elation filled your chest, like champagne in a shaken bottle and all you wanted was to let it out. You wanted to tell someone. 
Well, not someone. You wanted to tell Taylor. 
She was the one who convinced them that you could prove them wrong after all. The one who had been there for you, even before you took the penalty kick in Rio. 
You grabbed your green juice from the table and pushed yourself up from the armchair, pulling your phone out of your pocket as you hung a left down a side hallway by the meal room so you could have some privacy before you faced the rest of the team. 
You easily flicked through your contacts, pausing over the one you had recently changed from blondie to Athena after the goddess of wisdom, and pressing it gently. 
“Hey, what’s up,” Taylor’s smiling face met you after the second ring. “Everything ok?” 
“Better than ok,” You nodded excitedly, flashing her a brilliant grin. “Jill added me to the active squad, and I’m playing in the game on Saturday against Canada,” 
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”
Red leaked into your cheeks. “Thanks,” 
She hummed, her smile shifting into something softer, silence stretching between you for a long second. 
“What time?” She asked, and your eyebrows pulled tightly together. “What?” 
“The game,” She said, the soft look never leaving her eyes. “What time is it on?”
“6ish I think?” Your voice tilted up in question. 
The truth was you didn’t actually know what time the game was on. You didn’t know what time you needed to be on the bus, or when warmups started. 
It was the nice thing about camp. 
You never had to think about a schedule. You just went with the flow.
“I’ll look on the USWNT website,” Taylor rolled her eyes affectionately at you. 
“Good plan,” You said, your head bobbing. 
You opened your mouth to add a quip, but the sound of your name interrupted you. 
You blinked up at the new voice, suddenly realizing that your side hallway wasn’t as private as you thought it was. 
“You’re going to miss lunch,” Mal said, and you wondered how long she had been standing there. How long had she listened in? 
You waved her off. “Just save me a plate,”
You could eat after you were finished with your call. 
“No,” Mal glared at the phone in your hand.  “come on,” 
“You’ve gotta go,” Taylor interjected softly before you could send whatever whippy retort was on your tongue towards Mal, pulling your attention back to the screen. “We’ll talk later, I promise,”  
“I’ll see you later,” You sighed, waving towards Taylor before hanging up, a millisecond before Mal peeked at the screen. 
“That was rude,” You grumbled, slapping her arm when she was close enough. “I was having a conversation,” 
“Well, you were late,” Mal said, rolling her eyes and hooking her arm through yours to pull you tightly to her as she dragged you towards the meal room. “And you get grumpy when you don’t eat,” 
You got more grumpy when you didn’t get to talk to Taylor, but you didn’t voice that thought. 
You didn’t need anyone else questioning your relationship with Taylor, not when she was very firmly your friend. 
OoOoOoO
September 2016
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it too soon to do this yet?
Cause I know that it’s delicate
The craziness that was August simmered down considerably as soon as September started. It was like the sudden chill in the air was a balm to the insanity that always accompanied the stretch to the playoffs.
With Chicago at the very bottom of the table, well besides Orlando, you knew that your season would likely end in 4 games. It should have made you feel bad, but it didn’t. All you could muster was a strange sense of… blaséness. 
You didn't have it in you to care after the loss of the Olympics. Not in a league that didn’t matter. 
It wasn’t like you were playing for Arsenal. 
What you did care about was that you had earned your national team spot back. 
With 2 assists and a goal yourself against Canada, you had solidified why you deserved your callup. That was before you found out that Taylor was there. 
Things only got better when you got to see her after the game. When you got to hug her and hear her say how proud she was of you. When you got to solidify your plans to see her when you played against Sky Blue. 
Nothing could dampen your… excitement, not even Mal (drunkenly) hanging off of you during the post-game dinner celebration. 
That carried over into your upset win over Portland with Chicago, and the week of practice you had between them and your game in New York. 
And now, sitting in the back of a dark dive bar in Tribeca, trying to ignore your drunk friends (teammates and foes) celebrating, your excitement. Your happiness was nearly palpable. 
Taylor was going to swing by before you left, and the two of you were set to hang out tomorrow too.  
But still, you couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Of the butterflies that fluttered in your chest each time you so much as thought about Taylor. 
You tried to slam a lid on it. To shove it into a little box, because you knew that if you let it out, you would fuck up your friendship. 
It was how you saved your friendship with Mal after all wasn't it?
You had swallowed the lump in your throat, and taken the little piece of her that she gave you. You had even listened to her talk about him while the two of you cuddled. 
But it was different because you weren’t sleeping with Taylor. 
“Hey, sorry I’m kinda late,” Taylor said, just as a hand landed very gently on your shoulder. 
Your lips instantly ticked up at Taylor’s voice and you turned towards the back of the bar to greet her (slightly surprised she hadn’t come in the front). “Hey, no worries,”
You pushed yourself to your feet and pulled her into a tight hug. Your nose pressed against her neck, and you tried not to think about how the scent of lavender and something so innately Taylor put your swirling thoughts at ease. 
You leaned back with a genuine grin, and slid her the drink you had ordered for her “Old fashion right?”
She frowned but took the drink anyway. “How did you order this? You’re not 21 yet,” 
You shrugged and slid back onto your stool. “I didn’t have to order it,” 
She took the stool next to you, her eyebrows lifting. 
“Really I didn’t,” You said, reaching for your own glass. “The losing team always buys the first round at least,” 
She eyed it warily as you brought it to your lips, taking a sip of her own.
“It’s water,” You said before she could ask. “Because Kelley and Christen strongly disapprove of underage drinking,”
“I do too,” Taylor hummed, leaning closer to you so she could hear you over the bar noise. 
“I know,” You said, sending her a cheeky smile. “How was the studio? Cooking up something good?”
She took a sip of her drink. “I think so. I can show you some of them tomorrow,”
“That would be cool,” You nodded, your eyes flickering towards your teammates. “There’s also a cool little brunch spot in TriBeCa. It’s called the bus stop,”
“I’ve heard about it,” Taylor hummed. “It’s like two blocks from my apartment,” 
“I can pick you up tomorrow and we can go,” You said, watching Taylor carefully. “Roary gets upset when I skip out early,” 
You didn’t want to be too… forward. 
You didn’t want to tip the hand on your feelings when you knew she didn’t feel the same. 
“That should work,” Taylor agreed, without even blinking. “I’ll let Jason know you’re coming and I’ll text you directions to the back entrance,” 
“Jason?” You smirked, trying to keep your voice neutral, and wiggled your eyebrows to complete the effect. “Have a boyfriend you’re not telling me about?”
She was your friend you reminded yourself. You weren’t allowed to feel upset if she was dating someone. She probably wasn’t even interested. 
“No,” Taylor chuckled around a sip of her drink. “Jason is my head of security. He’ll let the team know that you’re not just some random fan,”
“Have many of them knock on your door?” You asked, your smirk widening into something that reminded her of a Cheshire Cat grin as you nudged her shoulder gently. 
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” She sighed heavily and a dark look crossed over her features (making you instantly regret the joking tone you had used). “It’s only gotten worse lately, especially since the video came out,”
You grimaced, your nose scrunching adorably. 
You thought the entire handling of the situation by Kanye’s camp was fucking disgusting. You thought he was a total narcissistic creeper and a douche. 
You had already gotten your national team teammates to agree not to listen to it. 
“If he’s ever at a game, I’ll put a price on who can peg him in the head more times,” You Promised with a short nod, and it earned you the desired effect of her giggle. “But seriously I think it’s fucking gross and that he needs to get a life,” 
“I appreciate that, but I don’t need you to fight for me,”  She said, laying a hand on your shoulder. 
“I know,” You nodded. “But I will anyway. A man should know how to treat people,” 
You would always be willing to defend her honor, just like you would defend Mal or any of your teammates. 
Well, maybe this wasn’t like Mal. You didn’t crave Mal’s soft smile or… praise like you did Taylor’s. You didn’t need Mal to acknowledge your bravery like you wanted Taylor to…
God you were really starting to lose the plot. 
Taylor was your friend. 
“I appreciate it,” She said, red coloring her cheeks. “Anyway, what are your other plans for tonight?”
“I’m going to help Christen drag the team back to the hotel, and then I’ll probably crash,” You shrugged, gesturing towards where Christen and Kelley were dancing with Huerta and Sam Kerr. “This way I’m actually awake to hang out with you tomorrow,” 
Taylor’s lips quirked up into a teasing grin. “I do prefer you conscious,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows, shifting on your stool to block Taylor from the view of your teammates when you caught Christen's eye. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, you just wanted to keep Taylor to yourself. You didn’t want to have to share her. 
“I didn’t know you owned anything other than sweatpants,” Taylor continued, gesturing towards the dark blue jeans you had accented with a pair of Batman Nikes.
You took a sip of your water to cover the light pink that dusted your cheeks. Maybe you had dressed up because you knew you were meeting her at the bar. “We won, so I had to wear something other than warm-up gear. Christen picked them,” 
Christen had helped you because you didn’t actually know how to put an outfit together. You wore sweats because they went with everything. You didn’t have to think about things matching. 
So by the 3rd try, the forward had taken pity on you. Picking a Manchester City jersey to go with your dark pants and your Nike kicks. 
Taylor hummed, smiling very gently at you like she was reading your mind. 
Really, she was fighting to keep her eyes from tracing your arms where you had rolled the jersey sleeves, and from dipping down to where your jeans hugged your ass. 
“Will you be back to your normal style tomorrow, or is she going to pick your outfit again?”
You rolled your eyes at the playful question. “Depends, do I get anything if I dress up?”
“I’ll buy you breakfast,” She smirked and you chuckled, more red bleeding into your cheeks. “Or brunch,” 
“I think that sounds like a fair trade,” You chuckled, nodding along. She giggled at you, and it was like music to your ears, even against the backdrop of the noisy bar. 
It made your smile broaden, just like it always did. It shouldn’t fill your chest with so much pride that you were the reason she was giggling. 
You really needed to get a handle on yourself before you did something stupid that pushed her away. 
You needed to make sure you wouldn’t ruin your friendship. 
You didn’t know what you would do if you lost Taylor. 
********
“I don’t think words can describe how adorable she is,” Taylor sighed towards her phone, taking a sip of her red wine. “I swear she blushes every time I so much as look at her,” 
It wasn’t her first glass of the night. It wasn’t even her second. 
She had opened the bottle as soon as she had gotten back from the bar, and now it was verging on halfway gone. 
She could feel the effects starting to take place, the way it loosened up her muscles and tongue. The way she couldn’t stop gushing about everything that had happened with you up to this point, not that her best friend was in the dark. She had been telling Selena about you for months, recounting each interaction the two of you had from the texting to the pillow fort cuddles. 
Selena hummed, taking a sip of her own wine on the other side of the phone. “I’m surprised considering how… fierce she was on the field. She almost murdered someone today,”
Taylor rolled her eyes. 
You had gotten in a defender's face after a bad tackle just outside of the box, turning angrily towards the reff when no yellow card followed the challenge. 
“That was a bad call and the reff knew it. The defender came in studs up and ruined a good through ball opportunity,” She said. 
Selena raised an eyebrow. “You know you sound like you’re speaking a different language right?”
It was something that had been happening more frequently. Taylor explaining soccer plays and referring to teams using phrases that Selena had never heard before. With all the time the singer had been spending with you, it shouldn’t have been surprising that Taylor would pick up on the dialect that was always on your lips. 
That didn’t mean that Taylor’s best friend couldn’t tease her for it. 
“Y/n was right to get upset. The defender could have hurt her,” Taylor reiterated seriously. 
“I’m sure,” Selena’s tone dripped with sarcasm as she studied her for a long moment. “When are you going to admit that your sudden interest in soccer is because you’re interested in her,”
Deep red immediately bled into Taylor’s cheeks, setting her face aflame.
 “I've already admitted that,” She muttered, hiding behind a sip. 
“Let me rephrase then,” Selena said, a trading smirk on her lips. “When are you going to admit it to her, because no offense, but she obviously hasn’t gotten the message yet, even after you continue to fly out to her games,”
Taylor choked on her wine, “I thought she finally understood tonight. She saved me a spot away from her teammates so we could have privacy, but then she said something about us being best friends when she walked me to the car,” 
“You’re going to have to be more direct,” Selena said, as Taylor took the last sip from her glass. 
“It’s just…” Taylor sighed, setting the empty glass down. “She’s still so young. She just turned 19. I don’t want to… I don’t know, pressure her into something,”
“I don’t think you are,” Selena said slowly, her lips pursing. “You’re both adults who can consent, and even though you’re older, I don’t think there's an unfair power dynamic happening. You’re her sister’s age right?”
“Yes,” Taylor nodded. 
Her and Alex were both born in 1989, and actually, your sister was older than her by almost 6 months, and you were very much an adult. She had made sure of that, refusing to even pursue a friendship until you were 18. 
“Then it’s not like you're some older woman trying to take advantage of her,” 
“No, I’m not. I would never,” Taylor immediately agreed. 
She would do anything to make sure you weren’t being taken advantage of. She knew how powerful existing dynamics could be, and she did her best to avoid their effects. 
You had to consent at every stage, even your friendship. 
“Then there you go,” Selena shrugged, wiggling her fingers at the screen. “Now can you please stop with the pining and make an actual move? It’s less fun than it was before,” 
Taylor threw her head back with a groan. “But how,” 
She had literary flown across the country because you had been added to the starting lineup for the national team and you still didn’t catch the message. 
Selena chuckled. “You’ve literally written a song about it,”
Taylor groaned again. 
She knew the song that Taylor was talking about. She could hear How you get the girl ringing in her head. 
But this was different. 
You didn’t even know about the pressure that had driven them apart. The demands that her management had of her. The complications of her… profession made it impossible for them to be together in the way that she wanted. 
And she hadn’t communicated that nearly as well as she wanted to. 
“That was different. I fucked up and Diana wouldn’t talk to me,” She said softly, 
“But you know the basics. It’s even raining,” Selena shrugged for a 3rd time, smiling impishly at her. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” 
Taylor bit her lip. 
Selena made it sound simple, but maybe it was. 
“You’re right,” Taylor hummed, a plan forming in her mind. “I'll call you later. After,” 
Selena smirked. “Good luck with lover girl, but I don’t think you’ll need it,” 
“Thanks,” 
******
Taylor shouldn’t have been shocked by how easy it was to get into the hotel that the team was staying at. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the teenager behind the front desk gave her a room number with very little persuading. 
There also hadn’t been any security on the elevator. Or on the floor, your room was on. 
It was a little scary that she could get to you with literally no one stepping in, but considering your frequently snarky comments about how little people actually cared about you and the league, she should’ve expected it. 
If you said yes. If you started a relationship with her, she would have to do something to put a barrier between you and the fans. 
You probably wouldn’t like the idea of someone trailing you around, like Jason and her team trailed her, but it would be necessary. She would have to talk to Jason about it. Maybe Tony would be up for the job, you seemed to like him anyway. 
Finding your door was as easy as getting the number from the receptionist. 
But she paused in front of the ugly red door, her heart pounding on her chest. 
She swallowed hard, lifting her hand and knocking three times on the door. 
She had no reason to be nervous. You loved seeing her, and it wasn’t like you could bring one of your… conquests to a hotel room you shared with a teammate. 
It would just be your sleepy smile that would meet her. The one where your eyes crinkled and you ran a hand through your ever-unruly curls. 
But it wasn’t your tired smile that met her. 
Instead, it was Christen’s Press’ wide smirk, as the older forward opened the door. 
“So you’re the mystery girl from the bar,” Christen’s chin tilted towards her as she leaned against the doorframe. “I thought I recognized you,”
Taylor’s fingers wound into her cardigan, and she swallowed trying to get some moisture in her suddenly dry throat. 
“Is Y/n here?” 
Her voice came out shaky, horse. 
Christen bit her lip, watching Taylor closely like she was a specimen under a microscope. 
“She is not,” She said finally, her arms crossing over her chest, almost defensively. 
“Oh,” 
Taylor’s whole being deflated. 
If you weren’t here, then where were you? Who were you with?
Christen glanced into the room behind her. “She should be back soon though. Wicked started at 8, and she swore it was only a 3-hour show with a thirty-minute intermission,” 
Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. “She’s on Broadway?” 
You insisted that you hated anything with a plot, but Broadway musicals had a plot. You had also told her that you were just going to hang out at the hotel with your friends. 
Why had you lied? 
Taylor could see the pity in her eyes, and she hated it. 
“Yeah,” Christen nodded once. “She sees at least one show every time she’s in New York. It’s like her 8th time seeing Wicked, but it’s her favorite,” 
“Oh,” Taylor breathed out. 
A pained look crossed Christen’s face, and she shifted on the door frame. 
“I’m sure you’ve heard about y/n’s reputation. I just…,” Christen’s voice was soft, hesitant even. “If… you woke up alone… or if she promised you something…”
Taylor frowned immediately shaking her head. “We didn’t-. She didn’t-. I wanted to talk to her about our plans for tomorrow,” 
Relief washed across Christen’s face. “Good. The two of you looked adorable in the bar, and she wouldn’t shut up about you. She has a habit of ruining things she thinks she doesn’t deserve,” 
Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. 
What did Christen mean? What did you ruin? 
“You said she’s seeing Wicked tonight?” Taylor asked, her head tilting. 
Jason should be able to get her close to the theater before they let out. Maybe she could catch you. 
Christen nodded, sensing that Taylor was already forming another plan. “Yes. Jackie Burns is playing Elphaba and she’s one of y/n’s favorites,” 
“Thanks,” 
Taylor was already turning away from her, phone in hand. 
Christen caught her arm before she could retreat down the hall, and Taylor met her deep green eyes. “Just… treat her right, ok?”
“I will,” 
Both women felt the weight of the words. The promise. 
“There will be a hoard of angry footballers with a bounty on your head if you don’t,” Christen’s lips cracked into a smile as she released the singer. “Y/n doesn’t just let anyone close to her,”
“I know,” Taylor matched her grin. 
Taylor had already gotten close to you. Closer than you had let nearly everyone before her. Now she just had to actually get you to agree that your relationship was more.
She would, and then she would protect your relationship and you with everything she had. 
******
Sometimes, being a professional soccer player was… strange. 
Strange because you played on a well-known team, but that you could easily disappear into a crowd. Strange because strangers on the internet all so many opinions about you, but none of them actually knew you. 
They didn’t know how much you loved musicals because it let you escape the truth of your own reality for a few hours. They didn’t know how much you loved the way the skyscrapers were accented against the star-dotted sky. How the billboards lit up the sidewalk and the pedicabs and taxis when you stepped out of a show. 
How the rain made the lights twinkle like the street was covered in fairy dust. 
How the cool October air filled your lungs as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets as you left the Gershwin Theater. 
You would stay and stand at the stage door, but it was already nearing midnight. You promised Christen you wouldn’t be back too late, and the dollar pizza guy around the corner from the hotel closed at 1. You would not be missing out on a greasy one-dollar slice. It was tradition after all, and you already had Jackie Burns’ signature on a framed shirt. 
Plus the rain made anything but finding the subway entrance something you wholeheartedly didn’t want to do. 
“Y/n,” 
You dipped your head at the call of your name, slipping further into the crowd and leaving the theater. 
You didn’t think that anyone would recognize you. They rarely ever did, but then again your face had been plastered all over the place since Rio. 
You weren’t in the mood to deal with fans anyway, even after a solid win over Sky Blue. Not while you were getting soaked. 
“Y/n, wait!” 
You pulled your hood over your head, ignoring the way it pressed into your damp curls, and hunched your shoulders in an attempt to make yourself disappear. 
You just needed to get around the corner of the Barclay building and cut between the hotdog cart and Juniors and you would be safe in the subway station. Away from prying eyes and the drenching rain, and back towards the team hotel in SoHo. 
“Y/n,” 
The voice was even closer, and a hand caught your arm just as you made it to the corner, pulling you to a dead stop. You let out a long, weary breath, painting a million-dollar smile on your face as you turned. 
Yelling at a fan wouldn’t go over well. 
But it melted as soon as you saw exactly who had grabbed you. 
“Taylor?” Her hair was plastered to her head, her dark gray cardigan soaked through, and her blue eyes accented by running makeup. “Where is your coat? What are you doing here?” 
“I need to talk to you,” 
“We need to get you out of this rain,” You muttered, ignoring her. You yanked your zipper down, and tugged your arms out of your jacket, tucking it around her shoulders and pulling the hood over her head. “You’re going to get sick,” 
You caught her hand after you zipped the coat around her and began to drag her towards the subway. 
At least the 51st station was heated. 
“Y/n wait,” 
Her slippery fingers tugged on yours, trying to slow you down. Trying to stop you. 
“No. It’s like 50 degrees out here and raining,” You grumbled, not even looking at her. 
How had she found you? Why was she out in the rain looking for you? What if she got Pneumonia because she chased after you without a coat?
You were trying to remember what Alex and Kelley always said about rain and cold, after rain games. You were trying to remember how Alex would get you warmed up when you were young. 
“Y/n, stop,” Taylor tugged at your hand again, and you glanced over your shoulder at her, still refusing to stop pulling her towards the subway. 
“What? I don’t want you to get sick and die,” You bit back, as the rain got harder, bouncing off Taylor’s hood in large, heavy drops. “Why would you come out here without a raincoat or an umbrella? Or-,”
Taylor jerked you towards her before you could finish, and before you could process what was happening, her lips met yours, stealing the end of your sentence. 
You blinked, your lips frozen for a long second, taking in the feeling of Taylor’s warm lips accented by the cool drops of rain. 
It was like your brain had short-circuited. 
You couldn’t kiss back, or pull away (even though you didn’t want you). All you could do was stand here, mouth halfway open, blinking owlishly at her. 
Her thumb brushed against your cheek as she leaned back, her eyebrows furrowed with worry that she had crossed a line. “Y/n,” 
You blinked again, water dripping off your lashes. 
Taylor kissed you. 
She kissed you in the rain. 
Taylor liked you. 
But she hadn’t said that. She hadn’t said anything. 
You blinked for a third time, tilting your chin up and leaning forward to connect your lips again.
 Taylor sucked in a breath before gently returning the kiss. 
Your lips moved together like they were made for each other. It was slow and warm, and… wet, accented by the rain dripping down your faces. 
Your hands found her waist, your fingers squeezing her hips, and hers tangled in the soaked baby hairs at the back of your neck. 
It was a perfect first kiss. Something out of a fairytale, or one of Taylor’s songs. 
You finally pulled away, breathing heavily through your nose, almost like you had run a full 90. 
“It’s raining, and I don’t want you to get sick,” You mumbled, leaning in and pecking her lips again. 
“Jason and the car are that way,” She said, gesturing back toward the theater.
You lifted your head in that direction, noting the sleek, black Escalade among the yellow cabs. You couldn’t see who was inside, but you knew that that would be true even if it wasn’t nighttime and pouring with the blacked-out windows. 
It had to be worth more than pretty much everything you owned, and you were soaked through. 
It would ruin the interior, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford fixing it.
Taylor shivered though, and you sighed, nodding. “Let’s get you warmed up,” 
“You need to get warm too,” Taylor hummed, trailing her hand down your bare arm and catching your fingers. “I have towels in the car,” 
You squeezed her hand, letting her lead you towards the car. The door was open by the time you got to it, the back seat already littered with black towels and a blanket. 
Taylor slid in first, and you followed after her, wiping your curls out of your eyes, and allowing her to wrap a towel around you, even though you didn’t feel cold. 
“Back to your apartment?” The bulky blonde man in the front seat asked, turning to look at Taylor. 
“I have to go back to the team hotel,” You said before she could answer him. “I’ll get in trouble with the coaching staff if I don’t go back, and it’ll upset my teammates,” 
Taylor’s hand landed on your thigh, squeezing gently like she was telling you that she would take care of it. 
“The hotel it is,” The man smiled, turning back towards the steering wheel, and flicking one of the buttons near the center console. More heat began to flood the car, as it inched forward. “Traffic is pretty bad with this rain, so it’ll be a bit,”
“Thanks, Jay,” Taylor sighed, grabbing the blanket and tossing it over the two of you. “We’re not in a hurry,” 
He glanced up at you in the rearview mirror. “Would you like me to put up the privacy curtain?”
Taylor’s lips curved into a playful smile, and she squeezed your thigh again. “No. Not tonight,” 
You raised an eyebrow at her. 
Did she do this often? This couldn’t have been the first time she was with someone in the back of the car. 
The thought made your stomach tumble.
Maybe the kiss wasn’t because she wanted something more, but because she wanted… sex. It wouldn’t be a shocker with your reputation. You were easy, always up for a lay. She just wanted to blow off some steam. 
You shut down that thought. 
It didn’t matter. 
“Are you warm enough?” Taylor asked, and your eyes snapped up to meet hers. 
“Hm?” your eyebrows furrowed deeper. 
You didn’t feel cold. 
She reached up very slowly, brushing a stray curl from your forehead and laying a thumb very gently on your lips. “Your lips are still trembling,” 
You leaned into the warmth of her hand, unable to stop yourself. “Oh, I’m ok. I’ve had to play in the rain before. This isn’t that bad,” 
She looked unconvinced, her other hand adjusting your towel so it covered more of your frame. “You shouldn’t have given me your jacket,”
“You shouldn’t have been out in that without one,” You shrugged, earning an eye roll. 
“I had important things to talk to you about,” She said, her thumb dragging from your lips to brush your cheek. 
Your lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “I don’t think we actually talked,”
“But I think you got the message,” She murmured, completing the circuit with her thumb back towards your lips. 
“Did I?” Your eyebrow quirked up at her. 
She tapped your lips, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to them. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into her, and kissed back, even if it had warning sirens blaring in your head. 
You would ignore the gnawing feeling that this would ruin your friendship and that Taylor would leave when she was done with you 
“You did,” She hummed as she pulled away, her thumb gliding across your cheek again. 
She sounded so sure of herself. Far more sure than you felt. 
Maybe Emily was right. 
Maybe you should just go with it.
OoOoOoO
You let out a long breath, leaning your forehead against the cool, hotel room door, watching as little water droplets slid down the smooth, red surface. Your hand rested on the handle, but you had no intention of opening it.
Not yet. 
Not while your head still felt like it was in a blender. 
Not while you were still reeling from the feeling of Taylor’s soft lips pressed into yours. Of her thumb making circuits from your cheek to your lips and back. Of her blue eyes staring at you like she could see beneath your skin like she wanted you more than she wanted anything else. 
But she couldn’t want you. 
She probably just wanted to… experiment, and your reputation made you an easy choice. 
You blew out another breath, hoping that the feeling of it leaving your lungs would help steady the shakiness in your knees. 
It was embarrassing, but you had been fantasizing about what her lips would feel like, how she would taste, for a long time. And now that you had actually tasted them, well, it was a craving you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to satiate. It would be so much worse when she decided she didn’t want you. 
You watched a water droplet slide down the door, lazily making its way around a chip in the paint. 
But maybe she did want you. 
You had chased you down in the rain, without a jacket, after all, and kissed you in the street like she didn’t care who was looking. 
You let out one more breath, fishing the key card out of your back pocket and pressing it against the lock until it clicked. You let your forehead push the door open, only lifting it after you had stepped inside the hotel room. 
You weren’t surprised to see that the lights were still on, and Christen was still sitting up in bed a book in her hand and her reading glasses still firmly in place. 
“I was about to send out a search party,” She hummed, catching her bookmark from the nightstand and carefully placing it into the book. It was only then that she looked up at you, a frown pulling at her lips. “Why are you all wet? Where is your jacket?”
You had the decency to send her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I got distracted and then Tony’s pizza stand was closed so I had to go to the corner slice in Tribeca. I lost my jacket somewhere along the way,” 
You pulled your sodden Manchester City jersey over your head. “Do you think it can be saved?” 
Christen rolled her eyes and pushed herself to stand, crossing the room to the small closet and pulling out a hanger. “Let’s hang dry it, and we’ll see,” 
You followed after her towards the bathroom, turning it the right way out and gingerly sliding it onto the hanger. “It has to be ok. Bronze is my favorite and my parents finally got a name right,” 
She took it from you and hooked it around the shower curtain rail. “A true miracle that I’m sure Alex had nothing to do with,” 
Alex couldn’t have had anything to do with it. You never told her that you liked Bronze. You had only told Rosie. 
Though you weren’t sure how your parents had picked the right one…
She turned back to you, her eyes flickering to the skin just above your lips. A smirk broke across her face and she reached up to brush her thumb over your cheek. “Is that lipstick?”
You jerked your head away from her. “No,” 
There was no way Taylor’s lipstick could be on your soaking-wet skin. Not with the way the rain had drenched the two of you. 
Except… 
your eyes closed. 
Taylor had kissed your cheek before you exited the car. You slipped out of the Escalade under the awning of the hotel, safe from the rain. 
“Let’s get the not lipstick off of you then,” Christen hummed noncommittally, pulling you closer to the sink. “How did you get so soaked?”
You waited until she turned away from you to dig into her makeup bag to answer, contemplating the words that you would say. 
Surely her advice would help too, but then her girlfriend would probably tell your sister. 
It would be easier if you just kept it all to yourself. If you just followed Emily’s advice and went with it. 
“I got distracted and the corner slice doesn’t have indoor seating,” you said, eying the bottles she was pulling from her bag, dabbing a cotton ball on the top. “What’s that?” 
“Makeup remover,” She hummed, her fingers catching your chin and tilting it so she had a better view of the offending red on your lips. “It must be waterproof, so this is the only thing that will get it off unless you want to dye the sheets red,”
Your nose scrunched at the acrid smell on the cotton ball as she very gently began to swipe it against your lips. You let your eyes slide closed, trying to ignore how small it made you feel. Trying to ignore how much it reminded you of when you were little. 
But it was too late.
You could feel the ghosts of her hands drawing across your cheeks in quick, practiced movements, and practically hear Alex’s “hold still little monkey,” ringing in your ears. You could see the soft smile that always played at her lips and the way her blue eyes focused as she helped you. 
“Hold still little monkey, I’ll be quick. I promise,” 
They were memories you didn’t want to remember. They brought a warm, protected feeling to your chest that you wanted to forget. 
The betrayal that followed would hurt less if you forgot if you didn’t remember the safety and care that had never been a question before it. The feelings that you were searching for in one bed or another. The feelings that you were convinced you would never feel again.
But then you met Taylor, and she made you want to believe you were wrong. 
“You’re good to go,” Christen said, pulling you back to reality. 
Your eyes blinked open, and you sent her a charming smile as you pulled away. “Thanks,”
She nodded back at you, watching you for a long minute like she wanted to say something she wasn’t sure about. 
“What?”
“Your hair is sticking up,” Christen quirked a small smile at you, and your eyes flickered toward the mirror, frowning.
You were sure that’s now what she was going to say, but you were grateful that she didn’t voice whatever thought she had.
But she was right. Amongst the mop of curls you had been letting grow since the undercut disaster of the 2015 World Cup, several were sticking up at strange angles. The one at the crown of your head standing straight up in a semi-hilarious impression of alfalfa from the little rascals. It was probably due to the water and wax that you always wore on game days to keep it out of your eyes mixing. 
They would be a bitch to fix in the morning if they dried like that. Maybe you would just wear a beanie over them instead of putting in the effort to fix them. Or maybe you would just chop them all off again.  
You reached for one of the small white hand towels, tossing it over your wild, tangled, soaked curls and dropping your pants with the other in a fluid motion. “I should dry off,”
Christen rolled her eyes, entirely used to your antics after spending a season in a locker room with you, and many more of being on the national team. She was just thankful you had a bra and boxers on. “And maybe get rid of the sex hair so the media doesn’t have a field day,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows at her, pushing her towards the bathroom door. “Well, what would they do with my reputation then,” 
Realize you’re not what you present yourself as Christen thought wryly. 
She wondered if Taylor had figured that out yet too. That you hid your sunshiney personality under a brash and untrusting exterior. 
The girl had gone chasing after you in the rain after all, so maybe, just maybe, she saw you for what you really were. And hopefully, she was prepared to give you what you needed. 
What you clearly didn’t feel you had the right to crave. 
******
November 2016
Windows flung right open, autumn air, 
Jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours
It was a strange feeling, being on the East Coast and it feeling like home. 
You had been raised on the West Coast. You spent the majority of your time in the center of the country, but somehow, you found yourself craving the crisp autumn air that only existed in the east. 
There was the possibility that you were just drawn to the city. That you were addicted to how into the game fans got, starting up chants for you even though you were on the opposing team. But there was also the slight chance that your new-found love of the city was directly tied to one of its most beloved inhabitants. 
You and Taylor had only grown impossibly closer in the time since the kiss. The flirty texts between the two of you were more frequent as were the half-dressed locker room photos and videos of you dancing at practice. The calls had also increased to the point where you almost always fell asleep listening to her slow breathing, and woke up to a good morning. 
But despite your increasing closeness, the two of you hadn’t defined what you were. And you had absolutely no clue where you stood. 
You pulled your knee closer to your chest, resting your cleat-covered foot on the bench next to you, and undoing the three special knots you always put in your custom red laces. 
You were thankful that camp was over. That you would get to spend some time in the city after the win. 
“Is there a reason you were terrorizing Colombia? Or was it just for fun?” Emily smirked, appearing on the bench next to you. 
You raised your eyebrows at her, a cocky smile pulling at your lips. “Do I need to have a reason to play well?”
“No,” Emily shrugged. 
It wasn’t your fault that their entire back line had crumbled under your and Alex’s pressure. It wasn’t your fault that Christen had cut through them collecting the balls you sent her way. 
It wasn’t your fault that the keeper had missed the chance to save 4 of your shots. 
“The crowd certainly enjoyed the display,” Rose added, sitting on your other side, effectively trapping you between them. “Just seems like your celebrations were a little too on the nose for you not to be… directing them at someone,” 
You rolled your eyes. Just because you blew a kiss towards a section of the stands after your 3rd goal, didn’t mean that it had been directed. And just because the chanting of your name only got louder after that didn’t mean it had been for them. 
Well, it didn’t have to mean it was directed, even if you did have a person in mind to receive it. 
No one else had to know that. 
“It was the section who did the Morgan magic chant,” You mumbled, pulling off your cleat and lining it next to the fancy pair of Vans you had chosen for tonight. 
“Got a hot date?” Emily asked, nudging your shoulder with her own as Rose turned from the two of you and became engrossed in a conversation with Sam. 
“Something like that,” You mumbled, moving on to your other cleat. “I’m still not sure… where I stand. With my friend.”
“The one you’ve been sending half-naked photos to?” Emily wiggled her eyebrows at you. 
You would never live down the after-training snapshots you had taken or the pictures from the weight room that you had sent off. 
You nodded reluctantly. “We’ve been more flirty since September,”
“Since the kiss?” She asked, watching as you shed your game shorts and grabbed a pair of jeans instead of your usual post-game sweats. 
“Yes,” You nodded, pausing for a second and biting your lip. “But I just… I’m going to fuck this up,” 
You ran a hand through your messy hair, still damp from the post-game shower. 
“You’re not,” Emily rolled her eyes, and she stole your shirt from your locker before you could pull it over your head, forcing you to look at her. “You’re doing pretty well so far. Just don’t make it complicated,” 
You met her eyes, swallowing hard. 
“Just go with it,” You repeated her own advice back to her. 
You were just having dinner and a movie night with Taylor. It would be familiar. Easy. 
It didn’t have to be complicated. 
“Exactly,” She agreed, tossing your shirt at you. “You seem to be going with the flow pretty well,” 
You pulled the green material over your head, reaching into your locker for your trusty hair wax, rubbing it between your hands, and trying to smooth out your hair. 
You glanced down at your phone when it buzzed. “Speaking of going with it, I’ve gotta go,” 
You slid the device into your pocket along with your wallet and hooked your fancy watch on your wrist. You shoved your feet into your Vans and sending a wink towards Sonnett. 
“I’ll make sure your bag makes it to Kelley. Tell Taylor I said hello,” She smirked, patting your back as you headed towards the locker room door. 
You looked over your shoulder at her. “No,” 
Before slamming the locker room door shut. 
You turned the corner, finding a quiet place in the hall, and leaned against the cool brick of the stadium, hoping no one would see you. 
Maybe you had directed your hat trick kiss towards where you knew a specific person was watching. 
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened your messages. 
You loved Emily, and Rose. You really did, but their propensity for butting in while you were texting had been particularly grating after they found out who you were sending messages to. 
They had already gotten a hold of your phone twice. Once they tried to call her and the second they sent a string of cryptic texts that had Taylor convinced you had gotten hurt at practice. It took you almost 3 hours to convince her that you were actually fine. You had even had to put her on the phone with Luke from the physical therapy staff to convince her that she didn’t need to fly in from Nashville early. After that, you stopped texting around them altogether and changed your password to a 37-digit code. 
Plus, Mal glared at you whenever you were on your phone. 
Athena 👸🏼: Tony and Jason are taking me to the back tunnel by the car. Do you want to meet us there, or do you want us to meet you somewhere else?
Your eyebrows pulled tightly together and you looked away from your phone and down the long hallway. 
You certainly didn’t want her to be anywhere near the locker room where your sister and your nosey teammates were. You weren’t ready to… share Taylor with them yet. You weren’t ready to answer questions when you weren’t even sure where you stood with her. 
Your relationship felt… fragile… and you weren’t ready to mess that up yet. 
Soccer hottie ⚽️: Stay put, I’ll meet you there. 
You pushed yourself off the wall, turning to your left and strolling down the maze of hallways. You didn’t need to look at the signs to know which way to go, you had been to Red Bull (and snuck out of it with company you wanted to keep away from prying eyes) enough that you had the layout memorized. 
“Hey hotshot,” 
“Hey,” You smiled widely as you rounded the corner and Tony came into view. 
You had been seeing him far more frequently since the kiss. Part of you thought it was because he just lived near you in Chicago. He liked the same smoothie place you did and frequented the same restaurants. 
But a smaller part of you wondered if Taylor had something to do with it. 
“I thought you would be waiting with Tay,” You said as he squeezed your arm, pulling your overnight bag from your shoulder and slinging it over his own. 
“She sent me to come find you,” Tony said, a teasing smirk pulling at his features. 
You knew it wasn’t you he was teasing. 
“I don’t need a babysitter,” You sighed, running a hand through your still-damp hair, brushing the unruly curls from in front of your eyes. 
“She was impatient,” He shrugged, unbothered by (or entirely used to) your protest, gesturing to the barely noticeable clear earpiece in his right ear. “I offered to find you and give her an eta,” 
The wire disappeared down the back of his shirt where you were sure it connected to a radio. You rolled your eyes. 
Maybe you should be flattered that she wanted live updates of your whereabouts, but you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest that she didn’t think you were capable of making it to the car tunnel on your own. 
“I told her I was on my way like 2 minutes ago,” You huffed, glancing behind you. 
You hadn’t taken long after the game to exit the field. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You finished the obligatory lap and then stayed to sign autographs for the fans that had cheered for you all game. 
You rushed through the showers after Vlatko’s post-game droning and changed quickly. 
“I know,” Tony agreed, falling into step beside you as you continued down the corridor. “She’s just excited to see you. You put on quite the show,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows. “The crowd got into it and that made scoring and setting up my friends more fun,” 
Tony made a low humming noise as he stepped in front of you, pushing open the double doors that led to the private car tunnel so you didn’t have to. 
You barely stepped through before a body collided with yours. 
Your hands caught Taylor’s hips as you stumbled, and she wrapped you in a very tight hug. 
“I missed you,” She mumbled, and you felt a hand on your back to steady the two of you. 
You hummed, tucking your nose into her collarbone and squeezing her. “I missed you too,” 
It was true. 
It had only been six weeks since the last time you saw her in person, and you talked at least once a day, but it was a feeling of longing that saturated your being. Her presence was a deep… need that seeped into your bones. 
It was a little alarming how… dependent you felt.
The two of you embraced for another long moment, and you let the smell of coconut and lavender from her perfume wash over your senses and soothe the post-game dip that always prickled your brain. 
“You played so so well,” She said, pulling away, a wide smile radiating off of her.
You let your own cocky grin pull across your features. “Thanks, I like to get the crowd fired up,” 
“They were electric,” She hummed, letting her hand trail down your arm and landing lightly on your stomach. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but Your stomach ruined the moment with a loud rumble. 
Taylor frowned. “Have you eaten today?” 
“Not really. I had lunch and then just a protein bar and a veggie shake,” You shrugged, sending a guilty look her way. “I don’t like to have a lot in my stomach during games,” 
It was a bad habit you had picked up in highschool after a very hot game in August ended up with your pasta lunch making a reappearance in a sideline trash can. 
“There’s a fantastic Italian place by mine?” Taylor offered, almost shyly as your stomach rumbled again against her hand. 
You leaned in and pressed a very sweet kiss to her lips, unable to resist, and enjoying the light red that dusted her cheeks. 
Your hand slipped into her back pocket, and you sent her a cheeky smile. “Lead the way then,”
OoOoOoO
Dinner with Taylor was absolutely incredible. Well, confusing for you, but amazing nonetheless. 
The restaurant she had chosen was small, intimate, and expensive. You looked through the entire menu, choosing the cheapest pasta you could find, even though you fucking hated pesto because it was the only dish that wouldn’t mean you would have to raid the Chicago locker room for snacks when you got back. 
It hadn’t mattered because Taylor paid anyway. 
Conversation flowed between the two of you like water. It was so easy to talk to Taylor, and you were slowly growing addicted to making her laugh. 
It was exactly like it had been before the two of you shared the kiss(s) until you got back into the car. 
She had been very… handsey in the ride back. And you had been handsey too, your fingers dipping past her skirt to squeeze her ass at every opportunity. 
Things hadn't slowed down in the elevator, and you had attacked her neck as she fished out the key to her apartment. 
You were growing addicted to the taste of her skin as well. 
She pressed you into the island, her lips dragging down your neck and towards your collarbone as soon as you were through the door. 
That’s when the anxiety clenched in your stomach, thinking of the way your heart pounded in your ears when you walked out of the tunnel and into a stadium, your eyes trained on the jersey numbers in front of you. 
You needed a way to slow her down. To… delay the inevitable. 
You saw your pale, terrified face in the reflection of her sliding glass door, and it felt like a lightbulb flashing in your brain. 
“Want to go swimming?” You asked suddenly, and her hands paused on your waist as her lips ghosting just over your pulse point. 
“What?”
You felt her lips curl into a frown against your skin.  
“I didn’t take my post-game ice bath,” You said, pulling away, so you could meet her eyes and gesturing towards the city lights glinting off of her infinity pool. “and your pool should be cold enough,” 
Her eyebrows knitted tightly together. “You want to go swimming in October, in New York? Wouldn’t you rather continue this?”
You shrugged, painting a charming smile across your face (hoping she wouldn’t see through it).  “When else will we be able to enjoy a view like this,”
Her lips turned even further down, and your heart beat a little bit faster. 
You didn’t want her to think you were rejecting her. You weren’t. You just…
“You don’t even have a bathing suit,” She said softly, and you could hear the hesitation in her voice. The concern. 
You needed to redirect her. To make her think that everything was ok so you didn’t lose her. 
“I don’t need one,” You wiggled your eyebrows and caught her fingers, tugging her towards the sliding glass door. “Come on,”
The view was even better from outside, the lights of the city twinkling in time with the stars and reflecting off of the pool back at you. 
“Let me at least turn on the pool lights,” She grumbled, reaching for a small remote on one of the lounge chairs. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the edge and get hurt before the end of the season,” 
You smirked, releasing her while she squinted at the clicker. 
***SECTION CONTAINING SLIGHT SMUT***
You easily slipped out of your shorts and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in a pair of boxers and your sports bra as you stepped towards the infinity pool. “Don’t mess with it for too long,” 
You didn’t wait for her to respond before diving into the icy water. 
It immediately prickled at your skin like a million tiny needles, pulling the air from your lungs and giving you the sensation of the world's worst brain freeze. You kept your eyes closed, forcing yourself to relax against the painful assault, letting yourself sink to the glacial blue tiles on the bottom of her pool. 
You could visualize the heat seeping out of you and into the shimmering floor, and you allowed yourself to give in to the sensation. To imagine it was the tension in your muscles, the aches that always came after a game, slowly leaching into your frigid surroundings. 
Letting the water numb your anxious mind until all that was left was a serene sense of calm. 
It felt familiar. Good in a masochistic sort of way that you couldn’t accurately put into words. 
Your brain absentmindedly reached its countdown from 45, and you pushed yourself off of the bottom. 
You let out a long breath as your head broke the surface, wiping your curls out of your eyes, and turning towards Taylor. 
She was at the edge of the pool, the remote hanging loosely in her hand, her wide eyes glinting off of the fairy lights strung along the balcony and over the pool. 
“You coming?” You asked, plastering a playful smirk across your lips. “Or are you just going to stare?”
Her mouth opened and closed, reminding you of a fish. 
You rolled your eyes, gilded towards her, stopping at her feet and looking up at her through your lashes. 
You dragged your fingers along the seam in the tiles and gently laid your hand on her foot, trying not to smirk at the shiver that ran down her spine. “It’s kinda lonely in here,” 
She blinked at you, slowly pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it behind her. 
You couldn’t help the way your eyes dragged down the newly exposed skin of her collarbone, between her breasts, and down to the waistband of her jeans where she was thumbing the button there. 
All of your attention was glued to her as she slid the material down her long legs, revealing creamy skin that made your mouth water accented by the deep blue material of her underwear. 
It stirred butterflies in your chest like the sight of no other woman had. You wanted her like you had never wanted anyone. 
Not even Mal. 
“It’s unfair how hot you are,” Taylor mumbled, settling on the edge of the pool, her legs bracketing you as she slid them into the frigid water. 
You ran your fingers up her calves and onto her thighs. “You’re not bad yourself,” 
She rolled her eyes, reaching down and smoothing your curls off of your forehead, dragging her hands down your face to cup your cheeks. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “It’s criminal how much you show your abs during games,” 
You shrugged, floating closer to her and letting your thumb toy with the elastic on her underwear. “Sweat burns when it’s in my eyes. Plus the fans like it, and so do you,”
Taylor made a low noise, drawing you closer to her, so you could feel her breath on your lips. “You’re a tease you know?” 
“You dig it,” You smirked, leaning in the final centimeter to connect your lips in a slow kiss. 
You couldn’t help the low sound that came out of the back of your throat as her tongue gently pressed against your lips, and you opened them to meet her. 
She tasted like red wine and strawberries and something that was so… Taylor. 
It was sweet and spicy and addictive. 
And it made you want her. 
You pulled away when air became an issue, trailing down her cheek to her neck, under her chin, and lavishing the skin you found down by her pulse point with your tongue. You enjoyed the way you could feel her heartbeat, how you could feel it quicken under your ministrations. 
You tried to keep your mind focused as you made your way down her neck, to her chest. You tried to focus on the softness of her skin and to memorize the way it tasted. To imprint in your mind how your tongue glided in velvet skin. 
You tried not to let your thoughts drift towards how a soccer ball felt at your feet. How you were still working on how to twist your hips to not give away which direction you were going to kick. How you needed to point your toes to perform the newest trick you were learning. 
Her fingers tangled in your hair, weaving through the wet curls close to your scalp and pulling you impossibly closer. 
You mouthed the edge of her bra, placing feather light kisses in a line between her breasts (paying special attention to the barely visible freckle you found there), ghosting down her stomach, and landing on the elastic of her underwear, letting her hand guide you where she wanted you. 
You looked up at her, meeting her hazy blue eyes. “Are you sure?” 
Her fingers tightened, pleasantly scratching your scalp. “I’ve never been more sure,” 
Your lips tilted into a devilish grin, your body sipping lower into the frigid water. “As you wish,” 
*****
Taylor panted heavily against you, each breath warming your neck as you spun in slow circles in the cold water. Her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, and your hand worked slowly between your bodies, bringing her down from her orgasm. 
You had lost track of what number she was on. Actually, you had lost track of pretty much everything after her underwear came off. 
It didn’t matter how hard you fought to stay present, you couldn’t help the way your brain slipped away. How your thoughts slid from Taylor the second you were level with her center. How the all-encompassing butterflies in your stomach fluttered away and you faded into familiar sensations and your thoughts turned to soccer. 
You knew it was weird to be working through a double-pivot formation while you were having sex. It was weird for you to be thinking about ball rotations and through passes or lineups for upcoming games while you were getting a girl off. 
Except it’s where your mind always went. 
Taylor made a low noise against your throat, and your fingers stopped gliding through her velvety folds. Your other arm tightened around her as you pulled your hand away, bringing it to your lips and lightly sucking your fingers. 
You sighed at the taste, sweet, salty, and a little tangy, happy that Taylor's pool was salt water instead of chlorine. It would have made this entire experience much less enjoyable. 
“Don’t do that,” Taylor said, her nose nudging the space under your chin. 
“Hm?” You hummed around your finger, your abs flexing as she shifted. 
She reached for your wrist, pulling your finger from your lips. “I need a minute before I can go again, and you make it hard to wait,”
You leaned in and connected your lips, your tongue probing at her bottom lip and gently slid your tongue in when she parted her lips. Her hips rolled and you flexed your abs to give her a better surface. 
“I can’t help it,” You smirked as you pulled away. “You just taste so good,”
She shivered against you, but you weren’t sure if it was from overstimulation or the cold. 
“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” You said, walking towards the pool stairs. “And you can recover,” 
Her legs tightened around you as you carried her up the steps, and her head rested on your shoulder. “I forgot how strong you are,” 
You made a low noise, focusing on your feet so you didn’t slip and send you both back into the freezing pool. 
“Where is your bathroom?” You asked, carefully sliding her glass door open and stepping into her apartment. “I don’t want to get water everywhere,” 
“Down the hall to the left,” She said, lifting an arm to gesture down the hallway, but not moving her head from its safe space between your neck and shoulder. “It’s through my bedroom,”
You nodded, easily making your way through the hallway, across the dark carpet of her bedroom, and into the massive master bathroom. 
You set her down on the Marble counter you found there, placing a light kiss on her head before you turned away towards the giant bathtub, and began fiddling with the golden faucets. 
It took you a second to make the water a good temperature and to flick the drain plug before you returned to her, slotting between her legs again.
“Do you want a drink or something?” You asked as she pulled you back in for another kiss.
“I’d love one,” She breathed against your lips. “I have wine in the fridge,” 
“I’ll go get it,” You hummed. “You just stay here and look pretty,” 
Her mouth curved against yours, and you finally pulled away, kissing her nose before you padded off toward the kitchen (ignoring how she tapped your ass as you left). 
It felt like a weight left your chest as you exited her bedroom, and you took a long breath as you made it to the kitchen. 
There had to be something fucking wrong with you. 
You had a naked woman two rooms over. A woman who had gone skinny dipping with you. A woman who was recovering so you could give her another orgasm. And here you were, doing your best to stall. Trying to quell the growing dread in your stomach. 
You shook your head, going to the wine fridge and pulling out the half-full bottle of red you were sure was the one Taylor wanted. You also grabbed two water bottles and found a wine glass in the cabinet. 
Just because you had hooked up with her… were actively hooking up with her… didn’t mean that she wanted your relationship to change. 
You took another deep breath. 
Being weird about any of this would just make it worse. 
You could be normal. 
You could save your friendship. 
You turned from the kitchen, slowly making your way back to the bathroom. 
Taylor smiled softly at you when you returned, holding out her arms to you. “I can’t believe you never took your clothing off,” 
You painted an easy smirk on your lips, setting the bottles and glass down on the counter before, letting her wrap her arms around you. “You were distracted,” 
She hummed. “You’re… very good with your hands,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows, leaning in to peck her lips before you turned away. You turned off the water in the tub and held your hand out for her. “Get in first. I’ll pour you some wine and join you. This way I can show you the other things my hands are good at,” 
She rolled her eyes, but let you guide her into the tub, sighing as she immersed herself in the warm water. 
You waited for her to get settled before you poured her half a glass of wine and passed it her way, and you grabbed a bottle of water for yourself, cracking it open and taking a very long sip. 
Taylor made another low sound, and you felt her eyes on you, following every movement. You flexed your arm and abs for effect as you finished off the bottle. 
You smirked at her as you pulled it away from your Lips, setting it on the counter. “Lean forward so I can get into the tub,” 
She eyed you, shaking her head. “This is a clothing-free zone,” 
“Is it?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. 
She hummed. “It is. I can’t believe you still have boxers and a bra on,” 
“You were distracted,” You shrugged smirking devilishly at her, placing the bottle on the counter and easily slipping out of your soaked boxers. “Something about the water being too cold,” 
“Try freezing,” She huffed, her eyes tracing the newly exposed skin of your thighs (your muscles standing out because of the cold), up towards your hips, taking a large sip of her wine. “But you warmed me up,”
“I’m good at that,” You murmured, pulling your bra over your head and stepping towards the tub. “Please lean forward so I can get in,” you 
“You are,” She breathed out as you slid into the tub behind her. She shifted so your thighs could encapsulate hers. 
Your arms wrapped gently around her middle, your palm laying flat on her stomach and your chin resting on her shoulder. 
You would have laughed at Taylor being the little spoon (because you were the shorter of the two of you), but you liked holding her. You also liked that the only places she could reach were your arms and legs. 
Safe territory. 
Territory that put you in control of the pace. 
“It’s unfair how you look so good, and how good you are,” She let out another breath, wiggling so her back was pressed more tightly against your front. 
You made a low sound, rubbing your hand up and down her stomach, your fingers just barely brushing her pelvic bone on each pass. 
You didn’t like how… pronounced they were. It was something you knew you would have to address at some point but now did not feel like the right time. 
“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself,” You murmured into her neck, kissing behind her ear, and letting your lips travel lower to the special spot you had found near her pulse point. 
Her head tilted to give you more room, and her hands fell to where your knees were bracketing hers just below the steamy water. She pressed very gently into a dark bruise forming on your calf from a mistimed tackle. “You have no idea what you do to me. How much those stupid videos your teammates are always taking make me want you,”
You smirked against the soft skin of her neck, letting your tongue linger for a long second as your left hand dipped even lower on her stomach. 
You knew the videos she was talking about. The ones that always seemed to catch you with your shirt off because you preferred to train that way. You hated when the damp material of your training top clung to you, so you normally forgoed one unless the media team was filming some behind-the-scenes stuff. 
“I’ll have to send you my own videos now that I know you like them,” You said, dragging your lips up her neck towards her ear, and very gently letting your teeth close around the soft tissue. 
She released a shakier breath as your fingers found her clit, and began rubbing very gentle circles. “I’d like that,” 
“You got it,” You hummed, pressing a little harder, and dipping down towards the heat that had nothing to do with the bath water while your other hand sliding up to her chest to toy with her nipple 
You smirked when her wine glass shook dangerously, the red liquid tipping out of the top as your fingers curled, pressing into the very special patch inside her. 
It reminded you of when a ball tipped off of a keeper's fingers. How it bobbled before landing back on the grass. How you always held your breath to see if it would land on the right side of the goal line. 
It was the perk of playing in Chicago, you supposed, that you had Alyssa as your starting keeper. You always felt like the ball was safe in her hands. You felt comfortable taking chances because you knew she was capable of cleaning up any messes you made. That her and JJ would protect the goal well enough that you could push forward. 
Taylor tensed around your fingers, and the glass finally fell, landing thankfully in the water instead of crashing to the ground outside of the tub. 
You kept your pace as she rode out her orgasm, your eyes focused on the red dissipating into the water until she finally relaxed against you. You finally pulled away when you were sure she was finished, kissing behind her ear and listening to her labored breathing as she came down. 
Her head turned, and you laid a kiss on her cheek. “You made me spill my wine,” 
“Oops,” You chuckled, not at all sorry, tweaking her nipple again before letting go and resting your hands on her stomach. 
She giggled in response, swatting your knee and then soothing her hand over a large bruise forming just below it. “Behave,” 
“I’m not known for behaving,” You said as she reached over and grabbed the fallen glass before either of you could accidentally break it. “It’s why the equipment staff are always following me around with extra shirts,” 
“Try for me?” She asked, her lips curving into a smile you hadn’t seen her send to anyone else, making you melt. “I don’t think I have any more orgasms into me tonight,” 
“Whatever you want,” You agreed, laying another kiss on her cheek. 
She hummed, leaning back into you, and you tightened your arms around her. 
You wondered if you should suggest that the two of you clean up and get ready for bed, but you didn’t even know if she wanted you to stay. You didn’t know if you would be welcome now that the two of you were done. 
You had never not snuck out after. You didn’t know how any of this worked, and you were too afraid to ask. 
“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” She mumbled. “You deserve it,” 
You shook your head, tucking your nose in the space between her neck and shoulder. “I’m good. I got enough watching you,” 
She sucked in a breath.“Are you sure?” 
You hummed, kissing the junction where her neck and shoulder met. “I’m good. I’m with you,” 
It was the truth. 
It was easier this way. You knew how to deal with things this way. 
She made a low noise of agreement. “Let’s just sit for a bit then, and then we can get cleaned up and go to bed,”
“Whatever you want,” You placed another kiss on her velvety skin, content to follow her lead. 
Maybe you would get to keep your friendship after all. 
***END OF SLIGHT SMUT***
OoOoOoO
Mornings were always your favorite. 
You loved the way soft light fluttered through curtains, casting a candle-like glow on the room around you. The way the oranges and yellows melted into brilliant white, chasing away the darkness like lanterns in a cavern.
It reminded you of when you were little, cuddled up to Alex after a nightmare. She would run a hand through your hair, and tell you stories into the early hours of the morning, insisting that tales of Knights and Princesses could chase away the monsters that haunted your dreams. 
“Just close your eyes monkey. I’ll protect you. Always,”
She made you feel safe. The rise and fall of her chest allowing your restless mind to relax.
It was no different here in Taylor’s bed, wrapped in perfect white sheets, her arm draped around your middle, her head resting on your shoulders, and her soft breaths tickling your neck at each exhale. Your bodies were pressed together, and you could feel her bare legs tangled with yours. 
She made you feel safe and warm and like you mattered and that fucking terrified you. 
It kept you up long after Taylor’s breathing turned deep and heavy, staring at the ceiling like it would give you the answers you were searching for. 
You kept your arm wrapped around her, your fingers playing with the very tips of her hair and drawing shapes on the skin of her bare back. 
You had to fight the urge to flee as soon as you were sure she was asleep. The urge that you had always indulged with your hookups. The one that meant you would never have to face the consequences of a hookup. 
But Taylor wasn’t a hookup. 
Even if she didn’t want a relationship, if you got to hold her like this, then you would accept whatever little part of herself she was willing to give you. And that terrified you too. 
You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again after-. 
You let out a long breath from your nose. 
It wasn’t fair for you to think about that… relationship. If you could call it that. 
You should go before Taylor woke up. Escape before you ruined this like you ruined that. 
“I can feel you thinking,” Taylor mumbled against your neck, her lips tickling your skin. 
“Sorry,” You murmured, running your fingers very gently over the skin of her back and laying a kiss on the top of her head. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early,” 
She shifted against your shoulder, tired blue eyes peering up at you. “What time is it?”
You squinted at the clock on her bedside table. “Just after 6,” 
She groaned. “Why are you awake?”
“Habit,” You said, looking back up at her ceiling, ending the debate in your brain. “I have to go to team recovery?”
It wasn’t a total lie. You did have to pick up your kit bag from the hotel, and you liked to do morning jogs after games to work out your muscles, but really, you needed… separation to quell the monster threatening to rip your lungs into pieces. 
You didn’t know how to not ruin your friendship. How to navigate your feelings without losing her. 
You needed to go for a run, to feel the ache in your chest and your legs to help you figure out what the fuck you were supposed to do. But at the same time, you didn’t want to leave. 
You refused to let her become another hookup. You would just run for a few hours and then return. 
You weren’t running like you did with the others. You were just… catching your breath. You were just getting your head straight. 
“The cold plunge you took last night wasn’t recovery enough?” Taylor asked, smirking up at you. 
You let your lips pull to match her expression. “Unfortunately no, but I can bring lunch back here when I’m done?” 
“I think that sounds like a fair trade,” She said, leaning up on her arm and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 
“Does it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at her. 
“Hmm,” She made a low sound, connecting your lips again. “Do you have time for a shower before you go?”
You chased her lips with a teasing smirk as she pulled away. “I think that can be arranged,” 
OoOoOoO
“Is there a reason you’re running a one-woman marathon, or are you just trying to make it impossible for Al to beat you this week?” Kelley’s voice cut through the running commentary in your head, and you blinked up at her from where she stood on the steps next to a big Chelsea market sign. 
You glanced down at the smartwatch on your wrist. You didn’t remember putting it on. It had become such a normal part of your morning routine that you didn’t think about putting it on anymore. You had honestly forgotten that Alex was getting alerts about your run until Kelley mentioned it. 
You tried not to think about the connection it had to your sister. You only paid attention to the stupid app when it alerted you that you were losing anyway. 
“Is that why you decided to join me?”
“I know you like the Chelsea market and running the high line,” Kelley said too casually, falling into step beside you. “I joined you because you and your sister only run long distances when something is bothering you, and I thought you would prefer me over Alex,”
You glanced at her, but she adamantly kept her eyes ahead of her. It felt purposeful like she didn’t want you to know she was watching you. 
You were very glad that Alex hadn’t decided to come herself, or that she had been talked out of it. 
“And you thought I’d want to talk,” 
Kelley shook her head. “No, but I do have a way with Morgan women, and I figured I’d support you,”
“Hmm,” You hummed, unable to stop the slight smile that cracked across your face. 
She would never let it go that she was basically your celebrity crush before you met her. You had been obsessed with college soccer when you were young, and Stanford had always been your favorite team. 
While things had changed significantly since her and your sister started dating (and you actually met her), she thought it was hilarious that both of you had been in love with her at some point. She also thought it was hilarious that she was you quote-unquote gay awakening, but you really didn’t like to think about that. 
You let out a long breath as the two of you jogged another few blocks, enjoying the sounds of the city around you. It was strange, but you already associated the city with Taylor. 
“There’s a girl that I really like,” You mumbled, as you both passed a dumpling stand. “I stayed the night,”
Kelley made a low sound next to you. They all knew you met up with someone, but no one knew exactly how that night turned out. And you staying was kind of unheard of. “And you two slept together?” 
You opened your mouth to answer but closed it quickly. Did it count if you never took your clothes off? Did it count if you didn’t let her touch you?
“You got her off like with the others?” Kelley amended, after a quick glance your way. 
“Yes. Then I stayed, and we cuddled,” You admitted, your voice going very soft. “All night,” 
You felt like you were in a weird dichotomy. Sex with Taylor was supposed to feel different because you felt so deeply for her. 
You thought it would because the before was so romantic. You thought it would because you wanted her like you had never wanted anyone before. 
But the act itself had felt… almost routine. It was like you were on autopilot. It was the same as it had been with every other girl you had been with. 
Her body responded the same way theirs had, and it had been so easy to get lost in your own head. 
It was only when she pulled you to her chest afterward. When she kissed your cheek and let you wash her hair before you got out of the bath. When she held you for the entire night, you ran your fingers down the line of her spine. 
It proved that she wasn’t like the others, and you let yourself enjoy the intimacy. It was why you stayed. 
She was still your friend. 
You spat the word in your mind. 
You didn’t want to end up in the no man’s land between friend and more than friend. Not again, the first time nearly ended in disaster, saved only by your mutual love of soccer and the goal of winning the World Cup.
You and Taylor didn’t share the same… uniting factor. 
And with the feelings bubbling in your chest, you knew you would never have the strength to walk away if that's what she asked of you. 
“So this is more than a one-nighter?” Kelley asked though she was already sure of the answer. 
“I think?” You nodded. “I’ve never…I don’t know how to do this, so I called Emily for advice,” 
Kelley’s nose scrunched. She knew how close you and the blonde defender were, especially since the two of you had been going to youth camps together since she could remember. She also knew that Emily knew more about the mysterious Taylor than she did. 
“This is the hypothetical friend that you didn’t think you were dating who had never had a burrito?” 
You hummed again, smiling at one of the dollar slice guys as you passed his little alcove. “I don't want to fuck this up, and I thought Emily would help. She didn’t,” 
“What did Emily say?” Kelley pushed. 
Your shoulders lifted and fell. “To just go with it,” 
Kelley couldn’t help her frown. That had to be the worst advice known to man, and Sonnett should have known. “So you slept with her, even when you weren’t sure you wanted to?”
“I wanted to,” You said, your voice going very soft. “I just…-“
You didn’t know how to explain that you got so caught up in your head that the experience felt like every other. That it was robotic and routine and expected. 
“It felt… generic…when I did it to her. It’s not supposed to be routine when I do it to her.” 
Kelley caught your arm and pulled you to a stop. 
“Sex isn’t something you do to someone. It’s something you do with them,” She said seriously, brown eyes boring into yours like she was trying to read your mind. “It’s a mutual activity,” 
It was a terrifying prospect that you didn’t know that, and it sent red flags twirling in Kelley’s head, especially when you shrugged it off. 
“I like her, so it was supposed to feel different,” You muttered, pulling your arm out of her grasp when the crosswalk sign came on. 
It was supposed to be emotional and you were supposed to feel connected. You should have been so hyper-focused on every movement, every twitch of her body that the world faded into nonexistence. 
You shouldn’t have had to stop yourself from running through lineups in your head halfway through. You shouldn’t have felt like the only important part of the experience was the finish. 
What the fuck was wrong with you?
She sighed but followed after you as you jogged across the street. “And it didn’t?”
“Before did,” You said, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of you. “And so did after,” 
“But the middle?” She asked. 
You shook your head, unwilling to put into words that you were too defective for it to be anything more than a quick fuck. 
Taylor deserved better, especially since the way she held you made you feel so… safe. The way she cuddled into you made you feel loved. More loved than your tongue could ever make her feel. 
“And that freaked you out?” Kelley asked, as you finally slowed your jog to a walk. 
You scratched the back of your neck, noting the annoying way your hair rubbed against the skin there. You really needed to get it cut. 
It wasn’t the connection that freaked you out, it was the prospect that you could now lose it. That you were fumbling around with no clue how to move forward, liable to fuck up something that had just started. 
You weren’t even sure if it was something. You had no clue where you stood. 
She looked at you like you weren’t a broken toy, and one misstep could prove her wrong and send her running. 
“I don’t know how to do this. It’s why I avoided sleeping with her in the first place. I was doing the friend thing well, and now… I have no idea what’s next,” You murmured, barely above a whisper. So quietly that you weren’t sure if Kelley heard you until her hand found your arm and gently pulled you to a stop yet again. 
“I think we can agree that Emily’s advice wasn’t great,” She started, making eye contact with you, and squeezing your arm gently. “I think what you should focus on are the things you do like to do with this girl. Do those take slow steps, and communicate with her. It’s a relationship, not a race,” 
“Slow steps,” You repeated, turning the words over in your mind. 
“Yes, and communication about what you like or don’t like and what you want or don’t want. Figuring out if you’re friends or more than friends would be a good place to start too,” The defender reiterated with a nod, emphasizing the back half of her sentence. 
She knew how much of a people pleaser you were, and how often you set aside your own feelings to make other people happy. If it happened with simple things like you refusing to stop Emily, Rose, and Lindsey’s teasing when it became too much because they were “still having fun” then she feared what other things you were willing to let go. 
You swallowed hard and matched her nod. 
You could do slow steps. 
You ran a hand through your sweaty hair, glancing around you. At least your slight crisis had landed you in Mulberry Street. 
“Do you wanna grab a snack before I head back? I told her I would bring her something for lunch after team recovery,” You asked, gesturing towards one of the many Italian restaurants surrounding you. 
Kelley raised an eyebrow at you. “You told this girl that you had training the day after a game and she believed you?” 
“I don’t think she knows that much about footy,” You shrugged. “She’s more of an American football fan,” 
Even if Taylor had played when she was young, you knew her knowledge was pretty limited. 
Kelley cracked a smile at you and nodded toward the restaurant you had pointed out. “As long as she’s not an Eagles fan, we’ll be fine then,”
You made a low sound of agreement knowing Kelley wasn’t as serious about Football teams as she was about premier league teams. Her main concern was that you were treated well after all anyway. 
OoOoOoO
You had calmed down significantly by the time you made it back to Taylor’s apartment, but Kelley had always had that effect on you. 
She had been the one who helped you breathe before your first cap (along with Alex, though you hated talking about it). She was the one who talked you down after you tore your Achilles during the World Cup. 
She always knew exactly what to say, and this was no different. She made you laugh and slipped in little pieces of advice without forcing you to ruminate on the situation. She made you believe that you could talk to Taylor and it would work. 
And as you sat across from Taylor while she snacked on the penne à la vodka you had picked up for her, your confidence didn’t waver. 
Kelley swore it would only take 5 seconds of bravery. 
“Are we dating now?”
Taylor paused, chewing her bite and swallowing as a perfect eyebrow arched in amusement. “Do you want us to be dating?”
You frowned, you hadn’t been expecting a question back. You thought it would be just a simple yes or no. 
“I think so,” You said slowly, meeting her eyes.  “I don’t know how to date,”
Her head cocked to the side. “You’ve never dated?” 
“Not really,” You shook your head, scratching the newly shortened hair at the back of your neck. “Besides a weird situationship, it’s all been one-nighters, so I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to work,” 
Taylor put her fork down, and she leaned a little closer to you, frowning. “Hold on, your realest relationship was a situationship?” 
“Yes,” You said sheepishly, your fingers digging more harshly into the back of your neck as you felt heat crawl up your cheeks all the way to your ears. 
“Why?”
It was asked with a giggle, but it didn’t rub you the wrong way. Taylor wasn’t making fun of you. 
You cleared your throat, eyes flickering away from her and back. “She was straight, and one of my friends,” 
It was a hard thing to admit, that you had fallen into a friends-with-benefits relationship with one of your closest friends, and that you hadn’t been able to keep your feelings locked away in a little box. You let things go too far. You let yourself believe that your favorite striker would leave her perfect boyfriend. 
You let yourself believe that she would return your feelings and pick you. 
She didn’t, and you had sworn off relationships after that. 
Why would you get involved when everyone always left?
“We were under a lot of pressure in the U20s and it was a good way to blow off steam,” You continued, your voice going soft. “Things just… went too far and ended messily,”
“Situationships usually do,” Taylor said gently, reaching across the island to place a careful hand on your arm. 
“We stayed friends though. We had to, because of the team” You murmured. “Eventually I just got over it,” 
Taylor hummed, her thumb lingering on a thick scar on the inside of your elbow. 
It seemed to her that a lot of your stories ended with you just getting over things. She wondered if you ever actually processed them, or if you just enjoyed pretending it never happened. 
“And now we link up really well,” You finished with a shrug, an easy smile returning to your features. “Anyway, back to the question. Are we dating?” 
Taylor felt her lips tilt up in return. “Again I’ll ask, do you want to be?”
“We’re going in circles,” You sighed, dragging your hand from the back of your neck up through your newly trimmed curls, thankful Kelley had stopped with you to get it cut on the way back to Taylor’s apartment. 
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question,” 
Your nose scrunched. Had you not just explained that you didn’t know how to date? You didn’t even know what it entailed. 
How would things change? What would she expect? 
But she was looking at you with so much softness, so much… understanding. It made something tug in your chest. 
If you were going to try dating anyone, you wanted it to be her. 
“Yes,” You breathed out, fighting to keep your voice even and steady. 
“Then we’re dating,” Taylor shrugged, picking up her fork. “Easy,” 
“Easy,” You mimicked, trying to ignore Emily’s voice ringing in your head. 
It didn’t have to be complicated. 
439 notes · View notes
bonkhrnyjail · 29 days
Text
sweet plum | chapter six
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masterlist | pinterest | spotify playlist
pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)
summary: the last of us wrap party is tonight, and the tension between you and pedro can no longer be ignored…
rating: mature (will become explicit in future chapters)
warnings: alcohol consumption, mild sexual content
a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR THE LOVE ON CHAPTER FIVE omg. i’m kicking myself for not posting this fic on tumblr sooner! pls enjoy chapter six and feel free to not analyze what our lovely reader’s actions might say about me as an author or my relationship to conflict <3 love y’all.
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You’ve been avoiding Pedro like the fucking plague.
Sixty missed calls. Even twenty texts, and off the top of your head you can't remember the last time he actually texted you. The calls became less frequent as the weeks passed, but he still tries at least once every day. You silence them every time.
The day you kissed him, he tried to call you ten times in a row, unbeknownst to you. You had thrown your phone across the living room the second you made it through the door and laid completely catatonic on your bed until your roommate got home.
“Babe, you’ll never guess who I saw last night— Are you good?” she inquired nonchalantly as she entered your room to find you face down in your mound of stuffed animals.
Droplets began to prickle the corners of your eyes as you let out a muffled groan in response. Your mouth wasn’t capable of words, the fat, dry lump in your throat stubborn and unyielding, forcing you to clench your teeth around nothing. A hand landed softly on your shoulder.
“Woah, hey,” she started to rub your arm up and down as a full body sob rippled through you. "Talk to me."
You looked up at her, tears rolling fast and hot down the apples of your cheeks, and threw yourself into her chest.
“I- I- I did something st-stupid,” you managed between sobs. 
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she tried to reassure you gently, smoothing down your hair. “Unless you accidentally shaved some of Pedro’s hair off or something. I’m sure he’d forgive you anyways, though.”
You tried to form words against the sobs clawing their way out of your chest.
“Bad, Abby. Like, r-really bad.”
“Well shit. What’s the damage?” she spoke somewhat brashly, which was nothing new when it came to her attempts at being gentle. “Do I have to kill somebody? ‘Cause I will, I've been playing a lot of first person shooter, I can handle it.”
Laughter overtook your cries, although whatever sounds were coming from your throat were a horrifying mixture of both. Abby chuckled at the sound. You continued like that for a while, laughing and crying and laughing again, until the tears finally stopped.
“Can you tell me what happened?” she blurted as a soberness enveloped her tone. “I’m sure I can come up with a solution. You know I’m crafty.”
“Do you know how to erase memories?” you mumbled as you sat up straight. “That’s the only solution I can think of.”
“No… but I own a bat. Blunt force trauma is a pretty surefire solution.”
“Jesus… not to Pedro.”
“Did you, like, shit yourself or something?” she blundered, immediately biting down on her lip after the words left her mouth. “Sorry, no, this is serious. Serious time.”
You let out a gargantuan sigh as you stared fervently into your lap.
“... I kissed him.”
“You WHAT?” she grabbed your shoulders and shook you aggressively. “YOU WHAT?!”
“I—”
“WHAT? HOW? WHEN?” she shrieked, piercing the hell out of your eardrums.
“I kissed him, on the lips, on the doorstep.” 
“ON THE DOORSTEP?!” she flailed her arms, slapping your shoulders in the process. “AND I MISSED IT?!”
“You’re hurting me.”
“WAS IT GOOD? IS HE A GOOD KISSER?”
“Can we use our inside voices?”
“FUCK— ok, sorry,” she mellowed, blowing air through raspberried lips. “Why are you so upset? I thought you wanted this to happen!”
“I... I did. And didn’t. It’s complicated,” you babbled through your frustration. “I just… kissed him. I didn’t think, or ask, and I can’t take it back.”
“Well, did he kiss you back?”
“Uh… I...” you muttered hesitantly. "I think so."
Abby sprung from your bed, squealing and dancing as her fists punched awkwardly into the air. The sight alone made you cackle.
“OK- so, what happened after that? Did he confess his love to you?” 
“Jesus christ… no, that’s not what happened,” you groaned. “I sorta... ran away.”
“You WHAT?!”
“Oh god, please don’t kill me,” you whined. “I didn’t know what to do, I only realized what I had done after I had done it and I fuckin' panicked. He tried to grab my hand but I ran inside as fast as I could.”
“Dude, you have got to be kidding me,” her tone went flat, eyes laced with disappointment. “Where's your phone?”
“I don’t know, I threw it across the living room when I got up here. I was kinda freaking out.”
Abby immediately jumped off of the bed and started toward the door to your room, despite your insistent pleas to leave it be. She came storming back inside moments later.
“10 missed calls. 10 MISSED CALLS,” she pointed aggressively to your lock screen displaying the missed notifications. “Look, he even texted you.”
You snatched the phone out of her hand, shoving it under your pillow. “I can’t… I can’t right now.”
“If he didn’t want this, he wouldn’t call you that many times, and he definitely wouldn't have kissed you back," she trailed off for a moment, some sort of realization sparking behind her eyes. "Wait, did he get you those flowers on the kitchen counter?”
“I- yes. Just because I helped him out today last minute.”
“No, not because you helped him out last minute. Flowers from a man mean one of three things. Number one, congrats. Number two, condolences. And number three, please have sex with me.”
“Jesus,” you giggled. “And what does it mean if he brought me a coffee too?”
“Your usual?”
“...Yes.”
“Please have sex with me and be my wife forever and ever.”
You rolled your eyes and flopped back into your pillows, covering your face with your hands and groaning. Abby sat with you for a while, but eventually gave up, knowing damn well that you're to stubborn and you'd make your own decisions regarding the whole situation. She knew she never stood a chance to change your mind anyways.
The days passed, slowly at first, but eventually you found your way back to a steady rhythm. You went to work, saw your friends, read a lot, and spent practically zero time on your phone. Impressive how avoidance managed to cure your social media addiction. 
You'd pushed it out of your head that you’d have to see Pedro in a few weeks. Then the weeks turned to a week, then to a few days, then to a day.
You woke up this morning and it all came crashing down.
The wrap party is tonight. Then the premiere tomorrow. Everyone is going. You couldn’t get away with skipping it if you tried. Bella would probably storm into your apartment and drag you out by the hair.
You haven’t even told Bella about the kiss.
You end up lying in bed for hours, watching video after video on Youtube to silence your racing thoughts. You had set an alarm on your phone earlier to remind you when to start getting ready, and it frightens the hell out of you, jolting you from a groggy haze of half-sleep. You curse under your breath and roll lazily onto your feet, your blankets crumpling to a pathetic-looking pile on the floor. 
You power up your speaker and choose some music, an upbeat and catchy playlist to try and redirect your energy. The upside in all of this is that you can get all dolled up. It gives you an excuse for extensive self-pampering and wearing outfits that mostly collect dust in your closet. 
An everything shower is an understatement of what you have planned. You have your products lined up, various scrubs, masks, body washes, etc, and a fresh razor sitting right beside them. You crank the faucet on, just a hair below the boiling point, and step into the tub.
The steam coats your lungs as you inhale deep, the sudden sensation of the water colliding with your skin sending a stark chill down your body. As you close your eyes, leaning your head back and letting your hair fall into the steady stream, your focus slips to a corner of your mind, the pesky corner that you've tried desperately to keep locked away. Because once the thoughts start, it’s damn near impossible to wrangle them back in.
The fantasy is vivid. You can almost feel Pedro’s hands in your hair, massaging shampoo slowly and intentionally from behind you. He’s close, his bare body pressed to your back, his skin hot and pulsing against yours. He leans you back to rinse the product from your hair, pressing a small kiss to your forehead as he squeezes your shoulder softly. 
“Mmmm,” he hums, trailing languid, open-mouth kisses across your cheek and down your neck. “My sweet plum.”
A faint voice in the back of your mind is shouting wildly, trying to stop the scene from playing out in your head, but it's not enough to break through the noise.
He runs his hands down the front of your body, gently tracing your curves and valleys, finger-painting your skin with adoration. Your head falls back into him as his kisses grow deeper, longer, more desperate, him hardening against you as his gentle caresses turn to needy grasps. 
“Let me… please,” you whisper into his ear, snaking your hand behind you and running your palm against the underside of his shaft. His body presses harder into yours as he lets out a soft grunt of approval directly in your ear, the vibration of it surging straight to your core.
A jolt of cold water shocks your body, tearing you from your fantasy. You come to and find yourself leaning against the wall of the shower, your ass having knocked the knob to the coldest setting. 
“Christ,” you mutter under your breath, cranking the control back to where it was and reaching for your overpriced shampoo bottle. 
You go through the motions of the rest of your shower, losing yourself in the music and singing along as you always do. Shower concerts have been your most recent replacement for the therapy that you can't quite afford.
You paint your toes, your leg hoisted up precariously on the counter and torso bent over to reach as your fuzzy robe dangles from your hips. You choose an eggplant purple, matching the accents in your dress. The press-ons that you found are a damn-near perfect match to this color, with a swirling design decorating the tips of the almond shape. 
The dress is more of a dainty feminine than you typically go for. You generally gravitate towards sultry colors and styles, but the cut of this dress instantly drew your attention. A plunging neckline with miniscule gold buttons decorating the front. Beneath the bust, a sheer panel with corset boning outlines the waist, and the remainder of the skirt flows heavily, the hem sitting perfectly at your ankles. It reminds you of a Free People style dress, but in your size. Hallelujah.
With a feel-good playlist booming through your speaker, your makeup goes on quick and easy. A thick, black wing smoked out with a deep purple and a subtle, black cherry sheer lip. Everything else you keep fairly light and natural, letting the boldness of the eye do the talking.
You pull your hair up into a bun, making sure the dress is the center of attention. You leave a few, short pieces out and curl them, creating the sense of a haphazard version of a Victorian era updo. After donning some simple gold jewelry and your Mary Janes, the outfit is complete. You throw on an oversized brown blazer just to keep you warm, but you’ll likely take it off the moment you get to the party.
Your uber arrives moments later, somehow exactly as you descend the stairs outside your building. Your driver, an older man named Mario, gets out and shakes your hand as he introduces himself and his very nice BMW named Maria.
You've never met anyone quite this aggressively Italian.
The good-natured man even asks if you'd like to pick the music for the ride. You choose something that you hope the both of you will like: ABBA.
“This was popular when I was your age!” he gushes, the gravel and rasp in his voice more audible than the actual pitch. 
“ABBA is absolutely timeless,” you chime, adding a few more songs to the queue.
You chat the whole ride there, his jovial presence somehow working away some of the knots of anxiety in your stomach. He asks all about your work, thankfully steering clear of who you work with, and even prodding you for styling tips for his “thick and unruly” curls. 
He pulls up to the entrance, stopping near a hoard of your coworkers from the crew crowded amongst the steps to the double doors. You exchange goodbyes with Mario and slide out of the car into the brisk air, your blazer draped over your shoulders and doing a very ineffective job of retaining any of your body heat. You hear a shriek of joy emerge from the blob of people in front of you, followed by your name in the same cadence. Most of the heads you can see turn to face you, arms reaching out for hugs and smiles as far as you can see. 
You’re going to make this a good night. No matter what.
.   .   .   .   .
It’s significantly warmer inside the venue, so you decided to drop your jacket at the coat check. It’s much more crowded than you expected, but then again, everyone was invited. Some of your friends from makeup even made the trip from New York to be here. Since you’ve never been to one of these before, jokes keep getting thrown around along the lines of “Baby’s first wrap party!" and you losing your wrap party virginity. The group dynamics from the days on set settle right back into a rhythm, your place as the baby of the group still yours for the taking. You don’t mind the coddling, as it seems to help keep your mind off of the inevitable. 
There’s a slurry of waiters dipping and dodging amongst clusters of bodies, hors d'oeuvres and drinks displayed gorgeously on shiny golden platters. Someone’s arm is dragging you towards the open bar across the dance floor, where a herd has already begun to form. A slew of voices and faces pass you by as you travel swiftly through the crowd, and you’re unable to make out anything distinct amongst the clamor.
Until you hear his voice.
That familiar boom of laughter, crisp and thunderous, crystal clear amongst the hundreds of noises up against it. You immediately whip your head around to locate the source, forgetting your hand is in the grips of your friend and nearly snapping her limb off in the process. She lunges forward into you, nearly knocking your hors d’oeuvres plate from your hand and garnering the attention of several people surrounding you.
You somehow stumble back to balance and a very attentive waiter quickly swipes the mostly finished plate from your hands. The swiftness of everything is making you dizzy, sounds and sights swirling in the warm glow of the gorgeous chandelier decorating the space above you. With every turn of your head, the crowd in front of you shifts to blurry outlines of colors and shapes, like ink bleeding from the hard lines where people should begin and end. 
Suddenly you feel arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing your organs to a pulp.
“Who-” you look down to see two small hands with black painted nails. “Is that my Bellie?”
A head pops into your peripheral with a wide, toothy smile. You let out a little shriek as your arms envelop them and squeeze, lifting them off the ground a bit with the sheer force of it.
“I missed you so much—'' you pause, taking in their presence once more. “Look at you! You look amazing!”
“I look amazing?” They toy gently with the skirt of your dress. “You look amazing!”
You embrace once more, the excitement of seeing them in person completely overriding your ability to control the gleeful noises escaping your body. They pull away, your hands still gripping each other’s elbows.
“Have you seen P? I know he’s already here,” they pull their phone out of their back pocket, his location pulled up on Find My Friends. 
“Oh, uh… I— I haven’t yet,” you hear your voice quickly morph into a downbeat tone against your will. 
“Uh oh,” they blurt. “Why is your face doing that? Did something happen?”
“I- uh…” you stumble over a sad attempt at words, muttering unintelligible syllables. “Well—”
Your train of thought comes to a screeching halt as he appears through a sliver in the crowd.
And, god, he looks handsome as ever. A nice, nice white suit clings ever so perfectly to his muscular, statuesque frame. The collar is folded neatly against his strong, thick neck, a few subtle veins protruding softly from his caramel skin. His dimples are on full display as he throws his head back with laughter, the little heart-shaped patch in his beard perfectly prominent. 
Bella follows your gaze until they see him. They call out his name and wave him down on their tiptoes. He immediately clocks the voice, and you watch as the small smile on his face spreads to a wide grin. He excuses himself from his current conversation and starts towards your direction.
Your stomach drops. You quickly survey around you to find that there is no clear escape, there are clusters of people surrounding you on each side and no pockets that you could gracefully slip into to weave your way through the crowd. For better or worse, you’re trapped.
He quickly scoops Bella into a bear hug, his arms enveloping their small frame in it's entirety. He spins them around, their feet dangling, hovering just above the floor. You stand there, frozen, little bunches of your dress clumped up in your tight, fidgeting fists. The fabric rolls between your thumb and forefinger, a haphazard attempt at soothing the anxiety surging through your veins.
It takes him a minute to acknowledge your presence, and with every second that passes, your urge to bolt revs in your belly.
Once his gaze meets yours, a soft, forgiving smile paints across his lips. You force the corners of your mouth upwards, attempting to create what hopefully appears like an expression of joy. Hopefully.
“Hi.”
It comes out more like a sigh when he says it, like it’s been pounding at his chest, just waiting to be released. His hand lays flat on his abdomen as he taps his pointer finger repeatedly. The muscles in his neck flex, creating movement in the collar of his shirt.
He’s nervous. You know him well enough to know that, and you know you’re likely not hiding your true state very well either. He knows you just as well.
You try to respond.  The air you've been holding prisoner in your lungs tumbles out, catching in your throat.  A feeble, "H-hi," is all you can manage.
“You look…” his eyes wander your body, your face, your hair, his lips parted ever so slightly. “You look lovely.”
The statement reverberates in your mind until you hear a distant call of your name. A quick turn of your head finds your favorite hairstylist waving you down.
“I—” you swallow and start over. “Thank you. Thanks. I—, sorry, I gotta—” you motion toward your destination with your thumb before decidedly turning and slipping through the crowd, a copious amount of polite little statements slipping off your tongue in order to get out of sight and away from him.
.   .   .   .   .
“So… what the fuck was that?” Bella states gruffly, sitting opposite of you at a small high top table, tucked away in a quieter room off of the main ballroom. “That was, like, painful.”
You let out a small groan, knowing you’d have to tell them at some point, but dissenting the fact that the time for that confession seems to be right this very second.
“I kinda… I fucked things up between us.”
“I doubt that,” they say reassuringly.
“No, seriously, I—” you stop yourself mid-sentence to catch your breath. “I kissed him, Bel.”
They let out a satisfied chuckle.
“Well thank god. It’s about goddamn time.”
“No, no you don’t understand,” you babble. “I kissed him without thinking, realized what I did, and ran.”
“Ohhhh my g—” they blow a raspberry. “Ok. Well. When was this?”
“Like… a month ago?”
“A month?!”
“I haven’t spoken to him since.”
“Jesus christ… I’m assuming he’s tried to call you, yes?”
“Pretty much every single day since it happened,” your words come out more sigh than pitch.
Bella rubs their temples, an incomprehensible expression on their face.
“Gosh, it feels like mom and dad are fighting.”
That makes you snort laugh, to your own surprise.
“Well clearly he’s not angry at you. And you can’t avoid him forever,” they reason, their bluntness somehow comforting, unraveling the little knot sitting in your gut. “I wish you two would just put all your cards on the table. Worst comes to worst, things don’t work out.”
“I just really don’t want to lose him, Bellie,” you mumble into your drink.
“You will if you don’t talk to him,” they quip right back, eyes stern and decided.
You know they’re right. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you know.
“I’ll talk to him. Tomorrow. Tonight is supposed to be fun.”
“Fair enough. Now, come dance with me.” they hop to their feet and extend a hand.
You take it with a smile, and within a mere second they’re whisking you towards the dance floor.
.   .   .   .   .
You’ve had 3 drinks. Three strong drinks. On a stomach with only a few bite sized hors d'oeuvres to soak up the copious amount of gin in your system. 
And it’s helping, sure. Helping you forget momentarily that Pedro is probably within 100 feet of you at any given moment. Helping your breath move in and out the way it’s supposed to, without catching on threads of worry webbed inside your lungs. Helping to loosen the knots that riddled your body when you got here.
But it’s also making you dizzy. 
Dizzy enough that you’re not quite sure when you end and others begin. It’s all lights and laughter and limbs, filling your senses to the brim. The corners of your vision have a little haze to them, a haze that’s starting to grow inward.
You stumble your way out of the hoard, searching for the nearest corner to tuck yourself away in for a moment. A friend hollers after you, asking if you’re alright.
“I’m good! Just got the spins,” you reassure her. “I’ll be back.”
A little awning reveals itself to you in a narrow sightline through the crowd. You follow the slender gap without a second thought. Once you reach the end, you find a dimly lit hallway with an emergency exit sign illuminating a sturdy black door. You steady yourself on a railing and lean your weight into the wall, your head bowed slightly and shoulders rounded.
The pattern on the carpet sways in your vision as you let yourself hang for a moment, releasing tension from your upper body and pushing your feet firmly into the floor as some attempt at grounding. After a moment, you decide to take your shoes off in hopes it will inspire your body to feel more “at one with gravity”.
The sound of booming bass still accosts your ears, but more muffled now, and the sound waves flow through you, perfectly in time with the beating of your heart. It isn’t until your name is spoken the third time that you really hear it.
Your eyes shoot up to find Pedro, a worried, scrunched brow on his face and a bottle of water in his hand. 
“Oh- um…” you stammer. You continue to fight for the right words, any words, until he cuts you off.
“Drink this,” he twists the cap and gently places the bottle into your right hand. “I haven’t seen you take a sip of water the entire night. No wonder you’re dizzy.”
A moment of confusion clouds you, but you quickly remember that you shouted over the blaring music for all to hear of your current state. Your voice can be quite head-turning with a lack of inhibition. You obey his word and take a swig from the bottle, the crisp, cold water relentless against your sensitive teeth. The temperature is a visceral opposite to the flush of your face, causing you to furrow your brow slightly as it travels down your esophagus. 
He lets out a chuckle as he scans your expression.
“Cold?”
You produce an affirmative grumble and try to pass the bottle to him, but he gently pushes it back towards your chest. 
“Have some more.”
Your eyes flutter under the softness of his gaze. You try to gulp down the dry seed in you throat.
“Pedro, I—”
“We don’t have to talk about it right now.”
“Bella told me I have to talk to you,” you admit, your chin tucked and stare driving into the carpet, whispering in a way that sounded more like you were reminding yourself than telling him.
It makes him laugh, releasing that sweet, boisterous sound and it's accompanying smile you missed so dearly.
“Taking orders from Bellie now, eh?”
“They can be a bit militant when push comes to shove, to be honest,” a puff of air passes through your nose as a smirk tugs at your lips, your eyes glued to the floor. "'Specially if I'm being an idiot."
You take a few more sips of water and Pedro shifts to stand beside you, kicking his foot up with his back flat against the wall. Neither of you speak, only the sounds of your breath filling the space between you. 
You both inhale at the same time, as though you are both about to speak. 
“F—sorry, y-you go,” you gulp, though your mouth is bone dry.
He lets his exhale escape through puckered lips, and you watch as his hiked up chest deflates. His hand sits flat against the first button of his suit jacket as he thumbs at the lapel.
“I’ve spent the past month in agony, you know.”
You gaze up at his face, his eyes fixed on the glint in his freshly-shined shoes. He rolls his bottom lip through his teeth nervously, the hue of the skin shifting from an off-white to a bitten pink as it’s released from the grip.
“Missing you…” he spoke softly. “Wanting to talk to you…”
Guilt spreads like a wildfire, scalding your throat.
“Pedro, I— I am so s—”
“Wanting nothing more than to kiss you again.”
The words kick the air from your lungs, your lips parting to make way as the muscles in your jaw give out entirely. He turns to face your visage, and you find his painted with an expression of pure yearning. His eyes have a sparkle to them, but not of joy. It’s more like a heat, a burning that seems almost painful to endure. The thick, inescapable tension wraps itself hermetically around your neck.
“I— You didn’t even give me a chance to kiss you back.”
Before you can even process the words, the clinking of glasses sounds in the distance. Through the muffled shouting you hear a strained attempt at organizing a drunken group photo.
“We should probably…” you floppily gesture towards the ballroom, the alcohol seemingly turning your bones a bit soft and pliable. “Can we talk about this after the party? I'd like to be a little more sober if I can help it.”
“Right, uh—” he adjusts his tie slightly, insecurely clearing his throat. “After the party. I can do that.”
“I promise,” you assure, though you’re acutely aware that he has very little reason to trust you, considering you avoided him for almost a month straight. You reach for his hand, the one that’s still fidgeting with his jacket, hopeful your touch will convey your sincerity in a way that your words can’t.
He smiles, somewhat forcibly. and offers his arm.
“Shall we?”
You make your way back to the crowd, observing with a small chuckle as a few people with phones in hand attempt to herd people left and right, trying to create some semblance of a formation. The two of you slip into the hoard easily, gliding right into a perfect little cranny to the left of the pointed cameras.
Pedro slides his arm around your waist as you pose, and you’re certain he can feel your raging pulse thumping through every vessel beneath your skin.
“Ok, now a funny one!” says one of the photographers.
You turn to each other, smiling and searching for an idea. Drunken and foolish, you take his arm and pretend to bite it. 
He lets out a hearty laugh before leaning into the “scene”, his face mocking an expression of terror. You have to stifle your giggles with an open mouth, which results in a strange, almost strangled sound escaping you. It only encourages his laughter, which encourages yours, and droplets form at the crest of your eyes as you wait for the signal to drop the pose.
“Got it!” someone blurts across the ballroom.
“Sorry about that,” you guide his arm back to his side, giving it a gentle pat into place. “These hors d'oeuvres just made me hungrier.”
You laugh at your own joke, snorting on the inhale, and you look up to see his smile, wide and gleaming, the bounciest part of his cheeks sporting a salmon-pink hue. 
A distant voice calls for Pedro, hollering something about an actors-only picture, and he turns his head to find the source. You grab his hand before he starts towards them.
“Call me, ok? After the party,” you gently squeeze at his wrist. “I promise I’ll answer this time.”
He nods, his sickly sweet smile punctuated with picture-perfect dimples. He turns his back to you and weaves his way through the crowd. 
.   .   .   .   .
You finally made your way out of the coat check line after a grueling twenty minutes of needing to pee but not wanting to give up your spot in line. You’re standing outside the entrance now, the brisk air nipping at your bare ankles. You idly pull out your phone to find two text notifications from Pedro.
The first is an address, with a unit number. Los Angeles. You recognize the street name.
The second message reads:
I just got home. Buzz me when u get here. :) 
You almost start to skim through the unread messages he’d sent you since that night, but you’re quickly derailed by another buzz.
Pedro Pascal sent you $100. Description: for your ride.
You laugh out loud, amused by his overestimation of the price, but nevertheless stunned by his unfailing thoughtfulness. You start towards the stairs, your nerves burning and buzzing, entirely uncertain and out of control of what the evening holds.
. . . . .
180 notes · View notes
gothic-thoughts · 2 months
Text
Slow on the Internet
(idek how i found this pic of him but im SO glad this shit exists😭)
(AGED UP) Yuji Itadori x Black Fem Reader Fluff
Streamer!Yuuji, Shy!Reader, RoommateAU, Friends2Lovers
CW: oblivious Yuuji 😭😭, yuuji talking to his twitch chat, reader speaks some Japanese 🤝🏾 Yuuji speaks some English, not proofread
Word Count: 1701
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
any Japanese is written in Romaji and confirmed by DeepL
It was 10 pm, Itadori was sitting in his gaming headphones on his stylish armchair, playing a popular game while Spotify was quietly playing a mellow song in the background.
"Guys, the stream's gonna be a little quiet, I don't want to wake my roommate."
Itadori tried not to make too much noise, talking quietly to his audience.
- Which one?
- Is it (Y/n)??
- Megumi or the American girl you brought on a while ago?
- The girl??
 "Yes, I’m talking about (Y/n). Megumi's out for the night. Uh, for those new to stream, a couple streams ago..." Yuuji laughs into his hand, "Like 3 streams ago, I forced my roommate, (Y/n), to make a... commentary vid with me."
- You should force her back fr 👀👀
- Bring her back, yall were cute
- You guys chemistry was adorable, u sure she's just a roomie??👀👀
He laughed at the comments, a little embarrassed at the idea of having chemistry with his roommate, but it was sweet of them to think that. He shook his head and laughed, trying to brush it off as a friendly relationship.
"Shut up, it’s a normal amount of chemistry! I like to think we have a cool dynamic.”
- UR TELLING ME U DON'T LIKE HER??
- denial isn’t healthy, Itadori
- but does she want to STAY ur friend??
It was flattering how invested they were in a relationship between him and (Y/n). He wasn't sure what his chat was implying, surely they were teasing him. There was a little part of him that liked and even agreed with his chat's implications. He was glad they were taking so much interest in his friendship with (Y/n). It was sweet.
"I- what are you guys saying?" He laughed nervously, his cheeks red.
- THAT SHE LIKES U DUH
- U LIKE EACH OTHER??
- ITADORI UR FUMBLING
"You really think my roommate likes me? Really?"
- YES
- The only she could make it more obvious was if she kissed you like r u srs 😭😭
- Does she take or borrow ur stuff a bunch?
"Oh yeah, all the time." He laughed, nodding. "Like she'll use my body soap and won’t give it back unless I ask. Sometimes she'll even just take my clothes and leave them somewhere in her heya (room); sore wa wakaranai (I don't get that)."
- Bro cuz she likes u
- YUUJI WHAT
- She got it bad too. Both of u do
- AND U FRIENDZONED HER??
His heart was beginning to race a little as his chat spoke and said all these things. He laughed nervously, but he didn't deny any of their comments. He wondered if all these things actually were happening because she did have feelings for him.
"No, no I didn't... did I?"
- How do u curve a goddess BY ACCIDENT?
- Rejecting someone by accident is crazy
- She is fine asf lowkey
He shivered a little as his chat continued, making him begin to feel a little bad for keeping his feelings to himself and even stupid when realizing that he wasn’t reading her feelings correctly.
"I don't know, I mean.... it never crossed my mind that she really liked me. Maybe... but she just did small things."
He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say. "I didn’t think she’d like me, I thought she was just doing it cuz she’s still fairly new to Japan. Aside from the fact that she’s out of my league."
- is it because she's older than you?
- I dont even think ur age gap is even that big smh
- how old is she anyway? U look about the same age
- Ik ur 21 but how old is (Y/n)?
"How old? She's 23, but still..."
He rubbed the back of his neck, his face red. He just didn't know what to say so he just laughed nervously. They kept describing her and it made him feel bad, thinking that he had been doing this to her, hopefully she still liked him so he could try again.
- ONLY 2 YEARS AND U STRESSIN BOUT AN AGE GAP???
- If you don't GO CONFESS LIKE AN ADULT😭😭
- Ur both young adults so age is just a number fr
- Yuuji, don't piss me off 🙄😤
Itadori couldn't help but laugh the more he read, unable to deny the comments that his chat was making. It felt like his chat had read his mind.  
"Okay okay, wakattyo (i get it)! She likes me, I might like her, age isn't an issue. What am I supposed to do though?"
- Talk to her wat 😭😭
- UH TALK TO HER??
- Ask her out duh.
He laughed and read the comments. His chat was making it so simple.
"Come on guys, it can't be that simple. I live with her! What if she doesn't feel the same and things end up being awkward?"
Itadori jumps out of his chair, his heart beating out of his chest when he hears the only other person in the house knock on his bedroom door. Shit. Of course. He then realized he had his stream on the whole time so she definitely heard everything. He got up and walked over to his door. He cracked open the door, peeking through with his cheeks still red.
“Hey, Yuu.”
"Hey... did you hear nandemo (anything)?"
"Hear what?" (Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, "You on the phone?”
He paused and smiled, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was just making sure I wasn’t being too, um, loud. I thought you were asleep.”
“I was, but I woke up wanting something sweet. I'm running to the konbini, nani ka hoshi mono wa?"
“Yeah, sure.” He paused, thinking of something, "Can you get me some ichigo pocky?"
“Honto ni? I was gonna get the same thing.”
He laughed, her answer surprised him. "Really?"
“Yea. Alright, I'll be right back."
He smiles, waiting for her to come back. He had so many thoughts, so much to process about the stuff his chat said and his own feelings for her. He waited for her to come back with the strawberry pocky.
- Well???
- Did she seem to like u??
- What she say?
“There's really no reason for me not to like her, ya know? I'm starting to think I like her back, really like her, she’s so sweet." He rubbed his neck, feeling guilty, "You guys were right, I've been rejecting her by accident. When she gets back, I want to tell her."
- YAAY
- LETSSGOOO
- THATS MY BOY
- GAMER BF + SHY GF FTW
The comments made him smile even brighter. The chat called her his girlfriend, but he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He could only hope she'd respond positively.
"Shut up guys, I'm not her boyfriend.... well, yet hopefully."
20 minutes later, she walks into his room with snacks and a few drinks in a bag. He didn't expect her to come back so fast but it made him grateful. He was smiling wide as he took off his headphones and paused his game again, realizing how cute she was when she was just being herself. (Y/n) pauses in his doorway with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.
“Are--” She lowered her voice, “Are you streaming?”
"Uh, heh yeah. Uh, my chat they made me see something. It has to do with you."
“Oh god...” She chuckles and waves shyly at the camera, walking over, “They don't want me on another stream, do they?”
His chat was blowing up with comments, excited at the appearance of his roommate again. "Shut up guys, I swear. It wasn't planned. Anyway, you don't have to come near the camera.”
“I don’t, good; I was freaking out already.” She laughs.
“Do you mind if I keep streaming while we talk?"
“Uh... sure, why?” She hands him a soda and the boxes of pocky then backs out of the camera, “You making me nervous~”
"Yeah, sorry. They've really grown to like you, so they're excited to see you again."
“I was only in one stream!”
"I know, I know, but they really liked you. So every time you show up again, they get really excited because they love seeing more of you."
“I didn’t know I had fans; is that what you wanted to tell me?”
He sighed, "No, it's not. There's something else."
“Mkay...?”
"Alright.” He takes a deep breath and stands, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself, “So chat made me realize that I’m a biggest idiot in the world. I... I like you, (Y/n).”
“You're...” (Y/n) chuckles uncomfortably, “You’re joking? Kore wa jyooku desu ka?”
"No, no. I mean it. They helped me realize that you liked me so I wanted to tell you that.”
“But I thought you didn't like me.”
"Yeah, well, I thought I didn't, I realized it after they pointed out how we treat each other. And they were right.”
“So you were rejecting me... by accident?!”
“I just thought you'd stick around me cuz you’re still a little new to Japan!"
“Yuuji, I've lived here for like 5 months now!”
“Yeah, but I thought, like... I don’t know!”
“God, you be so clueless sometimes.” She sighs deeply, “Since I know now, finish your stream and we can eat the snacks and maybe, uh, eiga o miru?"
Itadori froze. “Movie? You... want to watch a movie with me?"
“Seems like the only thing to do this late at night," She chuckles, "Everything but the convenience store is closed this late."
"Hell yeah, I’d love to!”
(Y/n) laughs, “Mkay, lemme know when you’re done.”
(Y/n) leaves his room with the bag of her sweets and closes the door. Yuuji sits back down in his chair with a wide smile on his face as he starts playing his game again. He was so focused on finishing it for his stream and going to watch the movie that he wasn’t reading the chat’s confused and riled comments. He finally looked over at them and laughed, pausing the game:
- ITADORI IF U DON'T END THE STREAM
- GO BRO
- END STREAM
- STREAM TMR TF
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(a/n): unfortunately not sponsored by strawberry pocky cuz 🤤🤤
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satorubi · 1 year
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FUN N’ GAMES — ft. fushiguro megumi
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♱ sweaty mirror sex at a party with megumi.
CW : minors dni!! aged up! megumi, fem reader, dom gumi, mirror sex, doggystyle, usage of profanity, usage of pet names, slight choking kink, rough sex.
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megumi didn't go to parties on a regular basis. he thought it was a waste of time, but since you insisted, he didn't have the heart to say no.
purple light radiated throughout the house, with various college students sipping from red cups full of what appeared to be the opposite of punch. a mellow r&b track hummed in the background as you and megumi tongued each other down in the dim hallway corner, oblivious to the commotion around you.
“baby, baby— we gotta’ wait. we’ll finish when we get home, okay?”
you kissed him again before reaching for his cargo pants, "c'mon gumi, i need it." you moan, your fingers unfastening the button. "it seems that you need it too, hm?"
“hey, we’re in public.”
“so?” you say, a smirk slowly twisting your features as you pull him by the waistband toward the bathroom. he let out a shaky sigh, giving in to whatever game you were trying to play.
it didn’t take much for him to loosen up, his fingers tickling your hips as he lifts your dress up just above your lower back. he kissed at your neck and shoulders as he grazed his hands all over your thighs and stomach.
“fuck, gumi.” your breathless moans were quickly covered by the palm of his hand, your head against his shoulder while he quickly reached to play with your wet folds.
“hush. be quiet or we go home and you get nothing.” the harsh tone of voice he used caused you to nod your head, although a bit taken aback by it. you couldn’t exactly blame him though. you’d been teasing since the moment you two stepped foot inside the gathering. with your bodycon dress hugging your curves and the small glances you sent him every once in a while— he knew it’d come down to this.
“baby, please do something— i’ll be quiet i promise.” megumi shakes his head, pulling his fingers away from your slit and gesturing them toward the counter.
“sit up here and face me with your legs spread.”
doing exactly that, you showcase your pretty pussy. your clit stuck out, begging for attention as you awaited for your boyfriend’s touch. megumi only sat there. he watched as your lips frowned into that cute little pout you always did.
“play with it for me.”
“gumi—“
“alright then, let’s go.”
you immediately shake your head, reaching your hand down to toy at your needy cunt. your fingers parted your folds so you could get a better feel. you were now touching your once neglected clit, your middle and index fingers working as one to rub against that perfect spot.
“oh fuck,” you sigh, the feeling of your cold fingers against your sensitive bud— making you flinch a bit.
“you’re so fuckin’ greedy, y’know that?”
you ignore his words, still rubbing yourself as he gets closer and closer toward you. megumi takes the rings off of his slender fingers and places them onto the marble counter. just as you go to remove your fingers, megumi wraps a hand around your wrist, “i didn’t tell you to stop.” he says, taking his finger and slowly entering it into your cunt. he began to move his finger around inside of you— poking at your g-spot.
you were working your clit all the while megumi was fingering you. the two of you worked in a team effort, bringing you to the ultimate climax as the feeling took over you. just as you were about to cum, megumi took his free hand and placed it on your jaw— forcing you to make eye contact.
“don’t look away, look at me. i wanna’ see your face while you cum all over my hand. can you do that for me?”
you nod, biting on your bottom lip so hard you could draw blood from it. with furrowed brows, you finally came. megumi’s pace picked up and that was when it happened. spurts of your juices poured from your cunt, wetting both megumi and some of your lower stomach.
“good fuckin’ girl. wanna’ give me another? wanna’ cum on my dick too?”
eager, you nod. “fuck me, megumi.”
“turn around, lemme’ see.” as you scurried to find your position, megumi unbuttoned his pants. woe and behold his hard cock tapped against one of your cheeks, megumi holding it in his hand as he lays a small slap on your thigh. “c’mon, open up.”
right about now, there was nothing but frustration bubbling inside him. his dick leaked of precum and lust— just ready to glide inside your walls and fill you full.
“hurry gumi—“
“oh now you’re in a hurry? afraid someone might walk in on you bein’ a slut huh?” he teases and you whine, scooting your ass back into his pelvis in hopes to feel just anything. he rubs the head of his cock against your slick before pushing into you slowly. you could feel him stretching you although he wasn’t even all the way in. megumi wasn’t the hugest— but he had width on him, not failing to leave you sore and aching right after.
“shit, baby— so warm. squeezin’ me so tight.”
he grunts, looking all around you. he gazed between the two of you, his eyes focusing on the stretch marks and other beauty marks that adorned your body. so lovely and so his.
“you feel s’good, gumi. do i feel good too?”
he laughs, taking one of your legs and lifting it onto the counter while the other stays put. “y’know this pussy’s good, stop playin’ around.”
he could reach so much farther from here. it appeared as though your walls had opened up more than you thought they could. you were grateful for the genre change since, had the previous music continued to play, you and your boyfriend would not have been able to make it this far.
“r-right there, megumi—fuck! dick feels s’good, baby.” your moans came out louder than anticipated, megumi’s hand having to, yet again, shield your whines and whimpers. by now your dress had risen above your tits, the two hanging and swaying with every motion.
“look at you,” megumi mumbles into your ear as he holds on to your neck, your eyes being guided to the reflection in the mirror before you, “takin’ dick like a slut in heat. you’re so fuckin’ nasty.”
“g-gumi, please.”
“i said look. look at how you take me— so full of me you can’t even talk.”
his taunting only made you clench around him tighter. your pussy was practically giving him a bear hug as he rammed into you over and over again. you could only sit there and take it, letting him fuck you however he wanted.
“aw, would you look at that. you’re gettin’ tighter. you must want me to cum, huh? i should fill you up and make you walk outta’ here with my cum drippin’ down your leg.”
you could see his eyes become sharper— just like his thrusts— as he stared at you through the reflection. you were beginning to go dumb. barely able to speak as you felt your orgasm approaching at a rather quick rate.
you began to fuck him back, throwing your ass back against him in an attempt to help reach that perfect spot faster.
“there you go, c’mon,” megumi encouraged, wrapping both hands around your neck— pulling you back enough to be able to hold your gaze.
“gumi— i’m- im gonna’ cum, baby,” you grunt and your eyes slam shut, the pit of your stomach fluttering as you hold on to his arm with your hand. you scratched and clawed at the flesh but he didn’t mind it— in fact, that’s about all it took for him to cum too.
“cum’ for me, babygirl. i’m cummin’ too—“
he presses his lips against your forehead as both of you go numb. nothing but breathy moans and whimpers escaping you both as you feel megumi painting your pussy white.
as the two of you continue to catch your breath, megumi slides out of you gently. your pussy makes a small suckle sound causing the both of you to share a small laugh. your now sweaty, worn out bodies share a brief hug and kiss before putting your clothing back on.
he helps you fix your dress and hair, trying his best to get it back to the way you had it done before your little mishap.
“are you guys okay in there?” you hear a familiar voice coming from outside of the door. almost as familiar as—
“yuji, we’re good. mind your business.” megumi laughs and you stay silent. a bit embarrassed at the thought of your loud whines being heard from earlier.
“oh— okay. i heard screaming, but i think i’m just really drunk.”
you hear the boy’s footsteps stumble away and your heart returns to it’s usual beat. megumi laughs and kisses you one last time, “let’s go home, pretty.”
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SUUNMIC 2022 ©️ all rights reserved to @suunmic. please refrain from copying or reposting as your own.
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tags : @sirenh4ll @akiyhara @zorotits <333
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shih-coulda-had-it · 8 months
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totally reasonable development to the American Dream plan, don't even sweat it
(and the 24+ sentences i owe to the pollers)
Toshinori bounces on his heels, feeling lighter than air with the anticipation of tonight’s activities buzzing along his nerves. He’s dressed in a dark hooded sweatshirt, denim jeans, and the sneakers Gran Torino had bought specifically for their high-quality rubber soles.
And speaking of, Gran Torino should be up on the roofs somewhere…
The front door to the Midoriya apartment opens, and Izuku slips out after a hasty farewell to his mother, which is paired with a lackluster promise to stay safe. Toshinori manages a single jaunty wave before Izuku shuts it, and then his attention is turned to give Izuku’s outfit a critical once-over.
“You don’t have any other shoes?” Toshinori asks, contemplating the red hue of his successor’s sneakers. The rest of the clothes are appropriately sturdy and dark in palette.
“No? Sorry…”
“Eh, it should be fine. There shouldn’t be a lot of traffic up top anyway. Come on, let’s move!”
They make their way to the stairs, but to Izuku’s obvious confusion, Toshinori leads them further up.
“Yagi-san, you said that this was going to be a special Basic Physical Fitness Training session,” the kid says. “Can I ask… who thought of it? You, or Gran Torino?”
“Oh, this is totally my idea,” says Toshinori breezily. “I know the beach clean-up is the ultimate goal, and it’ll stay as your focus before high school, but I realized today that there are some experiences that you just can’t replicate as a holder of One for All! Experiences that even our Quirkless bodies can manage!”
They head higher. Izuku gets more nervous, but gamely follows Toshinori up the fire safety ladder.
On the roof, Gran Torino greets them with a curt, “Boys. This is the stupidest thing I can imagine for you two to do, in the stupidest place possible.” He’s sitting on the ledge, and as Toshinori requested, two lengths of steel pipes are leaned up next to him.
“Musutafu’s perfectly safe,” Toshinori counters. “And with you here, Gran Torino, there’s minimal risk of, well...”
“Falling to your deaths?”
Izuku squeaks. He quivers beside Toshinori, and when Toshinori glances down, Izuku is staring at the pipes, aghast. “What are we doing, Yagi-san?”
“We,” Toshinori says with great dignity, “are training in the great art of parkour. The pipes are insurance for safety, supposing we see real trouble that a pro-hero won’t get to in time.”
“Legally speaking, vigilantism,” Gran Torino interrupts.
“But we’re not going to get caught.”
“Which makes you juvenile delinquents.”
“Gran Torino,” Toshinori complains, feeling delightfully young and unburdened now that he’s gotten accustomed to Torino’s incredible, mellowed-out approach to training Izuku. What trauma? What spars? Toshinori at fifteen didn’t know anything about that, and Gran Torino at his current age looked nothing like the pro-hero who haunted the end of his high school career!
“I’m enabling you, aren’t I?” the old man shoots back. “Don’t I get to express my own opinions?”
“Is it really safe, though?” Izuku asks.
“Of course!” Toshinori picks up a pipe, hefts it, and tosses it over to Izuku, who catches it while wearing a thoroughly beleaguered expression. Then he grabs the other. “Listen, Midoriya-kun. If it’s really going to be a year until you get One for All, then the American Dream plan can afford to be a little flexible! You want to be a U.A. student, right?!”
“R-right!”
“Then we can’t just train your body!” he cries, lifting the pipe like a torch. “We’ve gotta train your willingness to get into a scrap!”
A little more wobbly, Izuku repeats, “R-right!” And because his successor is more polite, Izuku turns to Gran Torino and executes a little bow, adding, “Thank you for letting us do this, Gran Torino! And for keeping an eye on us!”
Torino sighs.
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