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#the problem is i have work and i start too late to look forward to a stream and end too late to remember that someone streamed

propertyofwicked · 24 days

Text

CROSS MY HEART - LN

warnings - smut!! MDNI!! soft!lando x restless!reader, sleepy sex, unprotected (stay safe yall), little bit of cockwarming ?

little one shot for a tired reader who just needs a bit of late night lovin <3

based on -> cross my heart by artemas

masterlist

she truly didn’t mean to start anything, y/n was simply trying to get comfortable. she was restless, the clock on the bedside table displaying 3:00 in bright red lighting mocking her. lando laid behind her, his arm laying haphazardly over her waist, holding her close to him, the other stretched above her head.

lando’s heavy breathing faltered for a moment, as she tossed and turned again, his eyes squeezing tight before squinting open to look at her. she was now laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, lando’s arm still thrown over her as he moved to squeeze at her hip.

“hey,” he whispered, trying not to let his slumber leave him fully.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you,” she apologised, whispering back at him.

“why are you still up?” he asked, ignoring her apology.

“can’t sleep,” she said, turning her head to look at him.

his eyes were still half closed, struggling to open with the weight of his fatigue. his hair was messy, matted down slightly from where he rested his head, a stray curl resting on his forehead.

“come ‘ere,” he mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to her exposed shoulder before pulling at her hip, guiding her to shuffle back into his embrace. she felt his soft breaths blowing on her hair, trailing down the back of her neck, tingles shooting down her spine as she rolled further into his arms. her body moulded into his as though they were made for each other, each curve of her back fitted perfectly with his chest. her legs bent upwards, resting above his, feeling the dull warmth of his thighs spread to hers.

his hand resting on her hip, fingers drawing circles on her thigh, twisting the fabric of her shorts as he did.

“what’s wrong?” he asked again, sensing there was more to her restlessness.

“nothing,” she said with a sigh, “well, i don’t think there’s anything wrong.”

“the girl who sleeps anywhere anytime can’t fall asleep - never thought i’d see the day,” he joked, laughing lightly, his chest shaking lightly on her back as he did.

“maybe ive slept too much and now im doomed to an eternity of sleepless nights,” she replied, leading lando to laugh lightly again.

“right,” he started, “shut your eyes for me, focus on steady breathing.”

she nodded at him, hoping that lando could feel her response, as his eyes had shut again, his head rolling forwards to rest his forehead on her shoulder.

and so, y/n laid there silently for minutes, eyes closed. she’d just about given up counting sheep, trying to recall a long journey, even focusing on numbing her entire body head to toe - nothing was working. finally, she decided that shuffling backwards, further into her boyfriends embrace might help, maybe the white noise of his heavy breathing, or the warmth of his chest on her back would lull her into the deep sleep she needed.

her hips rolled back first, pushing into lando’s crotch as she did, her back moving to arch into his chest. but before she could get comfortable, the grip on her waist tightened, a small grunt escaping lando’s mouth as he held her impossible close to him.

“if you wanted me that bad, you should’ve just said,” he mumbled in her ear again, his hips jutting forwards slightly.

“i didn’t mean to,” she whined in defence, before considering the situation, “but since you mentioned it, and since i can feel a little problem forming…”

“little?” he gasped jokingly, “you’ve never complained about the size of it before.”

“ill think you’ll find i have,” she replied, her hips absentmindedly grinding down on his growing bulge as she spoke, “do you not remember the jaw pain i had after i suc-”

she was interrupted by his hand landing firmly over her mouth.

“don’t finish that sentence if you don’t want this to escalate,” he warned.

“and what if i want it to?” she teased, “might help to tire me out?”

“well in that case, i guess im obliged to help,” he sighed, jokingly conceding as his fingers tugged at the waistband of her shorts. her hand reached down to grab his, halting his movements slightly, she could feel his face contort in confusion from where it still rested on her skin.

“just pull them to the side,” she told him, “im too tired to take my clothes off.”

he laughed at her honesty, never one to complain about being lazy with his girl, especially when he himself was too exhausted to put his full effort into sex right now.

“yeah?” he asked her, needing reassurance before she nodded, mumbling a quick “please”.

lando’s hands reached around to y/n’s front, pulling her shorts to the side, running his rough fingers through her folds. his head near shot up in shock, pushing himself up slightly to look down at the woman below him, fingers still working through her heat, circling her clit.

“how are you already that wet?” he asked her, chuckling lightly as the moon’s soft glow illuminated the flush rising her cheeks, “all i did was press my cock into your ass and you’re dripping?”

“ok?” she replied, feigning offence, “all i did was push my hips into your cock and you got hard? you know, lan, most men wouldn’t complain when their girlfriends find them attractive,” she joked, exposing his hypocrisy with a giggle.

“this wet, though? all for me?” he asked again, though his voice no longer held it’s playful tone, it became almost possessive, proud of his effect on her.

“all for you,” she choked out, stuttering as his fingers circled her entrance, his thumb moving to continue his assault on her clit. he pushed into her, fingers curling in as he did.

“please lan,” she begged him, panting as he did. any other time, she’d be embarrassed how quickly she was falling apart for him, but right now she couldn’t think about anything but being full with him.

“please, what, angel?” he asked, smirking at her submission, “words, baby.”

“need you now,” she whined, rolling her hips to deepen his fingers, intensifying the pressure of his thumb on her heat.

“patience, angel. gettin’ you ready for me,” he grunted, hips still jutting sporadically into her every time she moaned out for him.

“i’m ready,” she argued, “i can take it.”

“you sure?” he teased, though his hand slipped away from her, pushing her shorts to the side again and tugging his boxers down to free himself. lando tugged at his length a few times, spreading precum down the shaft before lining himself up with her entrance. he felt her lean forwards slightly, moving her leg to raise it over his, opening herself up to him.

he pushed in slowly, feeling her walls stretch around his cock as she moaned out at the intrusion, soon feeling the cotton of her shorts brushing against the skin at the base of his pelvis. her hand reached back, gripping at his arm to stop his movements.

“need a moment,” she whined.

“who’s little now?” he joked, careful to keep himself still inside her, “’i’m ready, i can take it,’“ he mocked.

“shut up or i’m leaving,” she warned, grinding down on him as she grew used to the feeling of being full.

“sure you will,” he gloated, hand moving back down to her clit, pinching at it lightly as his hips began to thrust into her at a gentle pace. she couldn’t argue back if she tried, his warmth engulfing her as he held her close, strings of curses tumbling from her mouth with every thrust.

“love having you so close to me,” he grunted, his teeth nipping at the skin on her shoulder lightly, “so full of me. feel so good, wrapped around my cock like this.”

his pace remained gentle - his thrusts deep inside her, the tip of his cock hitting the spot that had her purring for him. the feeling of lando’s hands on her, gripping at her thigh, holding her open for him to slide in and out of her. his chest pressed up against her back, a light sweat coating his skin.

it was no surprise she reached her climax so quickly, overwhelmed at the feeling of him thrusting deep inside her, his body surrounding her every senses, soft grunts that travelled through her ears and straight to her heat - he was like a drug she could never quit. she came hard and fast, body shaking around his cock as her body grew limp. lando followed soon after, his strong grip holding her body still for him to use however he pleased.

his hips moved to pull back, to slip out of her slowly but her exhausted whines stopped his movements.

“leave it in,” she mumbled, face pressed into the pillow.

“what?” he asked, trying to disguise the mixture of shock and excitement he felt at the prospect of being so close to her.

“you heard me, lan. leave it in. want to feel full,” she replied, a small smile rising on lando’s face at her tired desperation, as she shuffled back into his warm embrace once again. his arms tightened around her again, her laboured breathing lulling them both into a deep sleep.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #oscar piastri #LN4 #OP81

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !

Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.

Moths Hit the Window

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment.

Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.

If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze.

König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others.

“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!”

“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect.

“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up.

Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.

No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.

“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.

König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child.

This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru.

“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”

The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes.

“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”

Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest.

“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!”

“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”

“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away.

“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!” König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”

You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture.

He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.

Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you, König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”

It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you.

But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt.

You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.

König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”

You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.

Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”

“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”

“Great!”

“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny.

“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone.

Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge.

“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”

“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.”

“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”

Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.

“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”

“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction.

König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”

“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl.

In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.

Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.

But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.

The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.

“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.

König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance.

Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”

“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”

König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.

“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.”

Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.

Too far.

Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.

You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.

“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.

Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.

Shame that it’s already too late.

Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”

His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.

“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!”

By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience.

—

Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.

Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done.

The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling.

Evolve, or die.

“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”

Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later.

“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.

“Three minutes.”

“...get to it then. We move in five.”

So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants.

“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA.

The Lieutenant is one of them.

Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead.

“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t.

But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact.

Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself.

The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins.

Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.

You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was.

Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding.

Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed.

Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes.

Closer now.

Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide.

Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady.

The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire.

Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock.

Your finger slams into the trigger.

—

You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.

Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself.

Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König.

You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary.

In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.

Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch.

It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later.

You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure.

There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.

“You are late.” König.

He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone.

Anyone but you, that is.

König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter.

You watch and say nothing—dead-faced.

Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.

“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down.

Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm.

“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?”

Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment.

The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour.

“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”

“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you.

Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”

In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence.

Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up.

It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh.

He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest.

“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.”

The needle pauses and a swift nod is given.

“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.

“Pissed off?” You offer quietly.

“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”

Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.

“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”

“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.”

“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?”

“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”

König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.

“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?”

He freezes, muscles going taunt.

“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?”

Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away.

König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate.

“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”

“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”

“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit.

“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over.

There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side.

And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air.

König kneeled to you and bared himself.

Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this.

There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood.

Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.

The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug.

König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning.

But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.

You were reckless.

Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he.

A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame.

“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears.

König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him.

“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat.

Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English.

Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril.

You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust.

You find none.

“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”

A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening.

He speaks with a whispered confession.

“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words.

Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize.

He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized.

For you to come back to him. His partner.

You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.

König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.

The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths.

This time, you’re the one to gasp.

“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”

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marvelnatr · 6 months

Text

Training

Warnings: Daddy!Nat, Sub!reader, humiliation, brat!tamer Nat, impact play, mocking, strap on, cock warming, breeding kink, cum filled strap, pussy spanking, spanking, bratting, oral fixation, office setting.

Summary: you continue to fail to complete your mission reports correctly. Fury has tried multiple times to get the teammates to teach you how to complete them and you cannot follow simple orders, he’s told that during your teachings you have a cocky attitude. So he places you in an office with Nat till you can get your act together.

Feel free to join my marvel discord geared to this kind of writing! Its in my pinned master list. If the link doesn’t work let me know darlings. I don’t bite <3

Your POV:

Walking into the office Natasha looked up at me, her eyebrow cocking as she stayed leaned over her desk “excuse you?” I watched her slightly confused “what? I’m supposed to be here at nine am and its nine ten” Natasha nodded “yes you’re late. But also have some manners and knock on my office door before you come in” I nodded a bit with an eye roll and started to cross the threshold, Natashas voice stopped me in my tracks “so turn around and try again”. Looking up at her I nodded and turned around, closing the door and knocking again. Natasha gently opened the door “come in”. Nodding I walked in the door and looked at Natasha, she pointed to the chair near her desk “sit” rolling my eyes again I sat down. I’m not a fucking dog. I felt Nats eyes on me, the door clicked shut and the sound of her heels getting closer to my chair till I felt her brush by me as she sat down “so you’ve been having some problems with your mission reports?” I shook my head “they’re fine. Fury is just being picky” Natasha looked up at me “his name to you is Director, I know for a fucking fact you and him are not on first name basis. Do I make myself clear?” Swallowing a little I nodded as Nat watched me “no, you’re going to give me a verbal confirmation” watching her I sat forward and spoke, allowing my attitude to lace my voice “okay”, Natasha’s eyes found mine, the second we made eye contact I had realized I may have sounded a little too bold. Natasha calmly spoke “okay what?” I watched her, backing down a little “o-okay yes ma’am”. I received a simple nod from her and sat there in silence while she finished up her work.

After fifteen minutes I looked at her “okay what the fuck am I doing here? Cause if I’m just gonna sit here I’m leaving” Natasha looked at me “you will be patient Y/N” pouting I sat back and watched her work. This went on for around another thirty minutes before she looked at me “okay, what was the last mission you did” I looked at her and sat up “fucking finally” shooting a glare at me she growled a little “watch your fucking mouth, I am here to help you, so drop the fucking attitude” ignoring her statement I pulled out my computer and pulled up the mission report. I felt her lean over my shoulder as she looked at my report and scoffed “no wonder fury wont take this, its messy” I looked at her “excuse you?” Natasha cocked her eyebrow at me “I didn’t stutter did I?” Shutting up a little I rolled my eyes and thought of a quick snarky comeback “so what’s wrong with it then if you’re so fucking smart” I guess that was it. That’s what snapped her. Within seconds I was turned and facing her, her green eyes piercing into mine

Natasha’s POV:

Wrapping my hand around her throat Y/N left out a little gasp, her eyes widening as her legs squeezed together. I laughed a little and mocked “oh, I see, you just needed to be choked out a little didn’t you?” Y/N’s knuckles turned white as she squirmed “n-no” I laughed at her, tutting “oh detka, poor little thing. How I’d love to fuck you but you need an attitude adjustment” I let go of her neck with a little push and looked at her “rewrite it. Again. Stop beating around the bush and write it” Y/N pouted “b-but I don’t know how” I grabbed her jaw and made her look at me “you’re a smart little girl, you’ll figure it out” a pout formed on her lips as she looked at her computer and started typing. Nodding I sat back down at my desk. Y/N’s legs were squeezed shut as she typed. She would look up at me on occasion, her eyes begged me to fuck her as her pupils were blown with lust. Smirking at her I shook my head “focus on your work darling”

Y/N continued with her work. I decided it was time to fuck around with her a little, my fingers made their way to my button up shirt, slowly undoing the first three buttons to reveal my cleavage. Y/N’s eyes had been trained on my chest for a solid two minutes now. I laughed a little “what’s got you distracted darling?” Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head “nothing”. I slowly got up and leaned over the desk, my chest close to her face “try again detka” Y/N looked up at me, her eyes filled with anticipation as I leaned over her. The younger woman shakily inhaled and swallowed thick, as he spoke weakly “n-nothing miss” nodding I turned her computer to me “lets see how much progress you’ve made shall we love”. Looking over her work I tutted, she really hasn’t changed a thing. She’s made advances but hasn’t done much. I looked at her “this really isn’t any better dorogoy, are you really that dumb that you can’t put together a simple report? I know you’re so much smarter then this” a whine fell from her lips “I don’t get it, this is such bullshit!” Cocking my eyebrow at her I warned her “watch your mouth” Y/N looked at me with that same bratty look “fucking make me” laughing I leaned in closer “I will”. Her eyes widened as I sat down in my chair and patted my lap “come bring your computer and sit” Y/N rolled her eyes “no, I’m not a fucking child” I chuckled “you sure are acting like one” she quickly shot me a look and stupidly defended herself “I am not!” I scoffed at her “you are, just like a spoiled fucking brat if you ask me” huffing Y/N sat back in her chair, folding her arms and turning away from me just as a pouting child would. I laughed and mumbled “my point proven”

After about fifteen minutes she grumbled “I would like to leave now” I nodded while typing “you can after you finish your report” Y/N groaned “but I don’t fucking know what to do to fix it!” Looking over at her I spoke calmly, probably pissing her off even more “I offered to help you darling, and you wouldn’t take it. But the offer is still there. When you can drop your ego and come and sit in my lap like a good girl I can help you” she shook her head and spat “in your fucking dreams” I laughed and nodded “your choice then darling”

After a few more minutes she realized I wasn’t giving in. I heard her movements to grab her computer and find her way over to me. Looking over at her I saw her eyes watching my lap. Leaning back I gave her room to sit down, Y/N shuffled over to me pouting as I took her computer from her and allowed her to sit in my lap. Tucking some hair behind her ear I whispered “this isn’t so bad is it?” Shifting to get comfy she grumbled, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration “this sucks” I laughed a little and held her waist “don’t hurt my feelings now darling. Stop pretending you don’t like it”. A red tint fell over her cheeks as she cuddled into me and I smiled “that’s a good girl. Now, look at your screen”. I adjusted Y/N so she could see her screen and her eyes widened at me, I knew it was only time before she felt my strap in my pants, I laughed a little and mocked in her ear “so distracted darling, are you okay?”. A blush tinted her cheeks red as she nodded “y-yes da- ma’am”, I smirked “oh no baby say what you were gonna say”. Y/N squirmed in my lap as she mumbled, I held her hips and stilled her movements “speak up detka”. She pushed her head into my chest “y-yes d-daddy”. I groaned a little and held her hips down “such a good girl, there we go, finally learning your place”, the girl shot a glare at me and I smacked her thigh “nuh uh little girl, knock it off”, her eyes rolled as she spat “fucking make me”.

My hand quickly wrapped around her throat as I stood her up, quickly laying her flat over my desk then landing a harsh smack to her ass “that’s it, enough of the attitude”, Y/N gasped and moaned a little. Chuckling I tutted “such a fucking slut, is this what you want? You want me to spank you?” I spanked her again and stuck my fingers in her mouth “you just want to get punished thats all, want me to make you my little bitch”. I continued to land harsh spanks to her ass, the crimson red color was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You could see the slight outlines of my rings from the impact on her sore ass. Y/N was whimpering and crying a little, drooling all over my desk. I laughed “awww my poor little girl, you can give but you cant take? But you look so pretty for me. You ass all red while you make a mess all over my desk. Those pretty little tears don’t mean shit to me princess”

I watched as she squirmed, an unmistakable wet patch forming on her panties. Kicking her legs apart I gently pushed my palm on her cunt “mmmm so wet for me babygirl” Y/N moaned and whined, her legs closing around my hands. I smacked her cunt and looked up at her “you do not close your legs when I touch you, do you understand little girl?” She nodded and moaned “y-yes daddy” pushing my hand against her cunt I spoke again “I said do you understand?”, moaning a bit louder she fixed her sentence “y-yes daddy I understand” smirking I whispered in her ear “panties off and lay on the couch”. Y/N scrambled to the couch taking off her panties. I locked the office door and headed over to her. I rubbed her thighs gently “open your legs detka”, her legs quickly fell open and I groaned “you’re fucking soaked babygirl“ a red tint formed on her cheeks as I trailed my finger along her cunt “so you can follow orders, shocking”. Y/N snapped her legs shut “oh fuck off”. I cocked my eyebrow at her lowering my voice to a growl “what did you just say to me Y/N?”, her eyes went wide as her face turned white. Fear and anticipation flooded her eyes as I tutted “what am I going to do with you huh little girl?” I watched as she swallowed thick, standing up I leaned over her and grabbed her neck “lets see…I could edge you…or I could spank your poor little cunt….and I could just completely leave you without touching you” Y/N quickly protested to my last suggestion, a pleading whine falling from her lips “no daddy please! Please don’t leave me like this!”. I laughed at her “and what makes you think you’re in any position to tell me what to do with you darling? Where on earth did you get that thought?”

Dead silence fell over the room. Y/N’s pupils blown with lust and fear as she squirmed. I chuckled at her squeezing her neck tighter and pulling her closer to my face “come on slut speak up”, the younger woman gasped and rambled out “I-I dont! y-you’re in charge daddy”. Smiling I nodded “that’s right detka, daddy is is charge. Here’s what’s gonna happen” I trailed my hand down to her cunt as I spoke, allowing my accent to lace my voice a little more “you’re going to lay here and hold yourself open while daddy spanks this pretty little cunt five times for your misconduct. Do I make myself clear?” Y/N moaned and nodded “y-yes daddy you made yourself clear”

Y/N spread herself open, I smirked at her “so wet”, leaning down I hovered my face just above her cunt, my breath falling over her cunt making her twitch as I smiled “oh this is gonna be so much fucking fun” pushing my palm onto her heated core I kissed her gently then landed a semi harsh smack. Y/N yelped and moaned as I gently rubbed “you know what to do darling”. The girl swallowed thick, her chest rising and falling as she attempted to catch her breath “o-one thank you daddy”. Smiling I nodded and spanked her pussy again. I received the same reaction as the last. Y/N jolting slightly at the impact on her already swollen cunt from being so needy. I looked in her eyes as she counted again “two t-thank you daddy”. Nodding I finished the next three. Rubbing her pussy gently I groaned “so red and puffy now darling, you look so pretty like this” a blush fell over her cheeks and I chuckled “so shy, why did I punish you baby?” Y/N whispered gently “b-because I closed my legs while you were touching me” I nodded and rubbed “and is that polite?”, blushing further she shook her head “no daddy”. I smiled and kissed her knee “good girl. Now, you need to finish your report”. Immediately she whined “I don’t wanna!” I folded my arms “tell you what, you do the report and you get to cockwarm daddy as you work” Y/N bit her lip eagerly nodding “deal!”

Laughing I walked over to the desk and sat down. Y/N watched me as she rubbed her legs together, I patted my lap “come on darling, you’re so soaked you’ll be just fine”. She turned beet red as she straddled me and sunk gently down on my strap. Her cunt swallowing every inch of the thick toy as her mouth fell open in a silent moan. It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen and I couldn’t wait to breed her. To claim her and make her mine. I rested my hands on her hips and whispered praises “come on babygirl, just a little more. You can take it. I know you can” her eyes watched mine as she whimpered “you’re so big daddy, it wont fit” I laughed a little and rubbed her waist “oh darling. It’ll fit, daddy will help you”. She nodded as I lightly fucked up into her. My entire length buried into her cervix as she moaned “f-fucking hell” rubbing her hips gently I praised “thats it, such a good girl, you’ve done so well for me baby” she smiled and I patted her cheek “now get to work”

Y/N worked on her report as I looked over a file. Every so often I would check on her to see her progress. I could feel her arousal coating my thighs. The heat radiating off her core. Sometimes she would shift and moan from the sensation of the strap moving inside her. After thirty minutes she had finally finished. I put my file down and leaned forward, moving in her again. Y/N moaned as I rubbed her thigh to calm her and read over her report. I smiled and gripped her thigh a little “thats more like it baby, you do know what to do you just wanted to cookie cut it” Y/N pouted and bratted a little “did not!”. Quickly I smacked her thigh “no ma’am, no more of that” the girl whimpered “s-sorry daddy”. My hips involuntary bucked up, causing me to fuck into her. It was a pure reaction to the honorific falling from her lips. I received a moan from her in return, groaning I whispered in her ear “I could listen to those pretty little sounds all day” Y/N whimpered “please fuck me daddy, I-I can’t wait anymore”

Quickly picking her up I brought her over to the couch, my strap staying buried in her the entire time. I rested her down on the couch, her back hitting the leather cushions. I moan fell from her lips as my cock moved inside of her “oh baby be a good girl and let daddy fuck you hm? I know you’ve been craving this from the second you looked at me”. Y/N whimpered and nodded as I started fucking into her “that’s it, good girl detka”. Quickly grabbing a hold of the leather she moaned “f-fucking hell daddy you’re so big” I laughed a little and kept fucking her “I know darling”. Y/N’s head threw back as her eyes closed, I slapped her tit “ah ah, no little girl, you look daddy in the eyes while she’s fucking you. I want to memorize exactly what you look like when you’re falling apart under me”

Y/N’s eyes shot open again as she watched me, I nodded and slipped my fingers into her mouth, lightly making her gag which in turn made her clench around my strap. She quickly got the understanding to suck and begun swirling her tongue around my fingers. My digits muffling her moans as her teary eyes watched me. I smiled and mocked her “look at you, drooling all over yourself as I fuck your tight little pussy. You look fucking pathetic darling. I’m glad you’re found a better use for that pretty mouth of yours rather than bratting”. At this point she was too busy to complain, to dumb fucked out to argue. Fucking into her harder I groaned “fuck pup you look so pretty like this”. She moaned loud and bucked her hips, I cocked my eyebrow at her “you like that one huh? You want daddy to breed this sweet little pussy? To claim you?”. A babbled yes fell from her mouth around my fingers. I smirked and fucked into her harder “fuck thats my good girl”

Y/N’s legs started to shake, I took my fingers out of her mouth “you ask for permission to cum detka” her moans grew louder “p-please daddy please can I cum?” I groaned and nodded “fuck babygirl cum for me, gonna fill you up, make my cum drip from that pretty little cunt”. I gripped her legs and spread them wider as she came. Fully bottoming out inside her I came with her. Filling her cunt as she screamed a little “h-holy fucking shit daddy!” I laughed as I kissed her cheek “such a good girl for me, now everyone in the office knows who’s screwing you”, Y/N’s face tinted red as I stroked her cheek “it’s okay darling, you’re mine now”

As her breathing slowed I gently pulled out, some of the cum dripping from her cunt as it spilled on the couch. Chuckling I rubbed her thighs “such a messy girl”. I went into my private bathroom and wet a washcloth, coming back I kissed her inner thigh “may I dove?”. Y/N nodded all floaty, I melted at her relaxed face and fucked out body. While I cleaned her up I spoke “no more of the bratty attitude okay baby?” Y/N nodded and whispered “okay daddy”. I smiled softly at her and gently put her panties back on and grabbed one of my blankets from my storage ottoman, wrapping her up in it as I picked her up and held her in my arms “that’s my good girl, you can rest now darling”

Y/N cuddled into my neck and closed her eyes. While she dozed off I rubbed some cream on her ass, admiring the indentation of my rings on her red flesh for a few seconds. Kissing her head I sat down and continued to do some of my work, doing my best not to wake the sleeping angel in my lap.

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wynnyfryd · 7 months

Text

Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #tw: guns #tw: death

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girlboypersonthingy · 2 months

Note

Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)

Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟

Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉

Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor

Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤

You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.

It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.

It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.

Lucifer 🍎

“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”

Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb

Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.

It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all

His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip

Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.

He’s an emotional man, okay?

He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.

Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol

“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”

He’ll really really baby you tho.

Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.

“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”

And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you

For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed

And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse

Probably even panics a bit like-

“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”

“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”

Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love

Angel Dust 🕸️

“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”

Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds

But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations

He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~

Tries to lighten the mood a bit

“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*

Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.

He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part

Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.

Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.

Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.

He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.

Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.

Reminds me of a song…

“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita

Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances

Husk 🃏

“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”

Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.

Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.

Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit

But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.

Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.

In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.

He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin

Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.

“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”

Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe

The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue

Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention

Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~

Sir Pentious 🐍

Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.

“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”

Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.

Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.

“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.

And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.

Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.

It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes

Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.

At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚

“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”

And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you

Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.

You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.

Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!

Vox 🖥️

(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)

REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“

You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol

“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”

He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.

He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy

Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe

Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.

Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses

Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception

Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.

And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.

Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.

You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘

Alastor 🩸

Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.

He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.

He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you

Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved

Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.

Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.

“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”

Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you

Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets

“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”

Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.

He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹

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fatuismooches · 11 months

Text

a lesson in love.

The puppet that had recently begun to live in your village had been acting strange around you lately. His name was Kabukimono, and you had never met anyone like him before. You distinctly remember the first time you saw him, Niwa and the others crowded around him. He had the fairest skin, long luscious locks, and clothing that only the highest-standing nobles in Inazuma could afford. He almost reminded you of a princess.

Although the other villagers accepted him, they were still quite reserved towards him. Niwa, Katsuragi, and a few others were the only ones who would smile and laugh with him, ruffling his hair as if he were a normal human. And though Kabukimono was greatly pleased by this, you could see he was still rather lonely. After all, his friends worked most of the day while he was left to his own devices as of now.

You were fascinated by the beautiful boy who seemed enamored with the most simplest of things life had to offer - collecting fruits (especially Lavender Melon, which seemed to be his favorite), playing with finches and other small creatures, and shyly yet curiously watching the other children play from a distance. You were quite entranced with him, and so you struck up a conversation with him. From that day forward, Kabukimono was a changed puppet.

Kabukimono would constantly stare at you and then immediately look away when you turned to face him. He would trail behind you like a lost puppy until you acknowledged him, and quickly scurry to your side. You would wake up to the puppet sitting outside your house, waiting to start the day with you (you were greatly concerned once you realized he sat there for the whole night.) He’d insist on carrying everything for you, and although he was very strong, he did not have a good sense of balance, and well… you can guess how that turned out. He was quite literally attached to your hip, and it didn’t take long for everyone else to notice as well.

The kids would giggle uncontrollably and start to whisper: “Kabuki and [Name], sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-”, you quickly clamped your hands over their mouths before they could say anything else, while the puppet was confused the whole time. Couples would shoot you knowing looks. Niwa’s wiggling eyebrows and grin did not help you much either. Kabukimono’s love-struck behavior only increased but the problem was that he himself did not understand why he felt this way. Often you would see him with a stumped expression. And well, you had grown a soft spot for the puppet too… you completely adored him. You wanted to make him happy. But first, you must talk with him.

It was a normal day where you were doing nothing in particular, simply enjoying the calmness while Kabukimono sat next to you as well. The puppet had trouble understanding the concept of “relaxing” and doing nothing but he did feel the stress leaving his body whenever he engaged in this activity with you. The birds chirped, the breeze was cool, and everything felt perfect for some conversation.

“Kabukimono, have you been alright lately?” you questioned, hoping to get him to talk about his feelings. The puppet perked up at your voice.

“Me? Yes, I’ve been fine. Why?”

“Well, sometimes I see you looking a little down. I was just wondering why.” Kabukimono was surprised you noticed that, and he felt a bit shy but happy at how much you paid attention to him.

“W-well, it’s nothing really,” he tried to reassure himself and you but you didn’t buy it.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you advised. “I want to help you with whatever’s bothering you.” Kabukimono chewed on his lip, persuaded by your kindness. A determined expression appeared on his face.

“I think I’m sick, [Name],” he said it so seriously you were caught off guard. Out of all answers, you were not expecting that.

“Sick…? But you know you cannot get sick,” you said, trying to hint at the fact that puppets could not contract illnesses.

“I know that, but there’s just no other explanation I can think of! I asked some of the children in the village, and my symptoms line up with what they said!”

“Well, what are your symptoms?”

“My body gets really hot, my palms get sweaty… and my chest starts to feel funny,” he explained.

“Hmm, that does sound like a sickness.” The puppet let out a resigned sigh but then straightened up again.

“But…”

“But?”

“These things… they only happen around you, [Name]. Around everyone else I’m fine, but then as soon as I see you, all these weird things start happening to me,” Kabukimono looked down at his lap bashfully, almost afraid his statement would offend you. Your heart completely melted.

“Hey, look at me, Kabukimono,” you requested, and the puppet slowly complied, looking at you with his shimmering, worried eyes. “Don’t give me that look,” you giggled. “I’m not mad. In fact, I think I know what’s wrong with you. But I… need to do a quick test on you to confirm. Is that okay?”

Hope appeared in his eyes as he nodded excitedly. “Oh, of course! But what do you need to do?”

“Here, give me your hands, Kabukimono,” you said gently, as you placed his soft palms on top of yours. The puppet’s stunned and red-faced reaction already told you everything you needed to know but you still had to take this slowly. “How do you feel right now?”

“I-, I…” Kabukimono struggled to find the words to describe his current state. All he felt was hot, hot, hot from the simple yet affectionate gesture. But the patient smile you gave him was comforting. “I feel very happy, and my mouth hurts from smiling so much. And my body is getting hot like I said before.”

“I see,” you nodded in understanding. You released his hands from yours, much to Kabukimono’s disappointment, but then you placed your hand on his cheek, immediately bringing back his giddiness. “What about now?”

“I feel so…” The puppet was cut off as your thumb suddenly moved to trace your lip. “Ah, it feels like my chest is going to explode!” You chuckled at his simplicity as you removed your hands from him.

“And you’re absolutely sure you only feel this way towards me?” Kabukimono shook his head rapidly.

“No! No, no one else. No one else comes close to you,” he declared, intent on making himself clear, still in awe at the tingly feeling your thumb left on his lips. Your heart sped up from his unintentional adorableness.

“Well, I think I know what you’ve been inflicted with,” you nodded in response. “Yes, it’s quite obvious to me now.” Kabukimono leaned in more, curiosity taking over his body. He was so interested to hear what a smart human like you would say.

“You’re not sick, Kabukimono. You’re simply feeling a rather intense emotion,” you said slowly, hoping not to confuse him. “You are in love,” you finished. Kabukimono’s face was frozen in shock, only a slight shaking of his mouth and eyes could differentiate him from a statue.

“Love… love, i-is that what this is…?” His voice had come to almost a whisper. “Love, like how those married couples love each other?” Suddenly the mental image of him kissing and holding you appeared in his mind and would not leave. “Love!” The puppet could not help but repeat the lovely word again and again. But then a realization hit him and his excitement came to a screeching halt.

“But love… love needs more than one person, does it not? You need to… oh,” the reality of the situation hurt him. Surely you would never return his love. Surely you were interested in someone else, someone who was human. He was just a no-good puppet. Quickly you found your words to comfort him.

“No, no, no, Kabukimono. Look at me, pretty. Please don’t look so forlorn. You need not worry, as I love you too. I love you with my whole heart,” you stated matter-of-factly, in a way that could not be disputed.

It felt like something was stuck in Kabukimono’s throat, as he found it hard to push words out. “You… love me?” You vigorously nodded in confirmation. “You love me,” he repeated as if saying it more and more would help it settle in. “You love me… such an amazing person loves me…”

You squeezed his hand in response. “Yes, I love you dearly, Kabukimono. I want us to be together,” you said softly. The puppet’s mouth opened and closed, not sure how to even respond to such tenderness. But what ended up coming out was a pitiful sob and streaming tears.

“Thank you for teaching me… thank you for loving me. I don’t know how I could-” The boy’s words began to slur as he cried. Although he loved you dearly, Kabukimono’s mind could only think about how you could abandon him as his creator did. Would you soon deem him unworthy or not good enough, and leave him too? You were taken aback at this drastic change in behavior but quickly pulled him into the reassuring warmth of your chest. You now understood what Niwa meant when he said he was an emotional puppet.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, okay?” You rubbed Kabukimono’s back in gentle motions as you instructed him. “In, out… in, out, okay…?” The puppet followed your directions and with time, his sobs lessened and now he was a curled-up quiet mess that was in your arms. He would not move away from your chest, and you would be more concerned but you knew he did not need to breathe.

“You don’t need to apologize or thank me for anything. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but… I will always be here for you. You are a beautiful, kind soul. I am so happy to love you, my dearest,” you whispered, stroking his hair in a further attempt to calm him. The puppet almost felt like bawling again at your sincerity, but your voice was such a soft lull, all he wanted to do was take a break in your embrace.

“I love you, [Name]...” Kabukimono mumbled softly, as he fell asleep right there on your chest, knowing that he would be blessed with dreams with you instead of his abandonment.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kabukimono x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #kabukimono #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin #wanderer genshin #scaramouche fanfic

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wanders-in-wonderland · 9 months

Text

Please Professor

It’s my first upper division English literature class and only a month into the semester but I’m already struggling and getting marked D’s and F’s on assignments. I can’t fail this class, I need it to keep my university scholarship to stay in school. I reach out to my professor, asking to meet with him for some extra guidance and he agrees, but only has availabilities late in the evenings. I’m happy to comply, making the trek from my dorm to the English building at 9pm for our first meeting.

The English department is on the edge of campus and when I walk into the building, the whole place looks deserted this late at night. His office is the only one with lights on and I knock softly on his open door before stepping in.

“Hi Professor, thank you so much for finding the time to meet with me for extra help!” He looks up from the papers he’s grading and smiles at me. “Not a problem, I know my class can be overwhelming for a lot of students who aren’t used to the rigor that I expect. Come in and take a seat, we’ll have you whipped up into shape in no time.” He steps out from behind his desk and closes the door behind me as I walk in. I’m too preoccupied with getting my notes out to notice that he turns the lock on the door, locking us in.

“Let’s talk about some of your recent work, and we’ll work on a few things I have my mind on to help with your technique.” He circles around to the bookcase against his wall, grabbing a textbook. “Oh go ahead and reach over my desk to grab that workbook on my desk. There are some exercises there that I think will help you.”

I stand and reach across his large, dark-stained wood desk to grab the book. Suddenly, he’s on me. Before I can straighten up, he grabs the back of my neck and slams me against his desk. I scream briefly as the workbook tumbles out of my hand and I find myself pressed against the desk, the front of my body flush on it while I’m bent over. Before I have time to react fully, he bends down over me, and whispers darkly, “Now don’t struggle, because I’d hate to have to fail you for being a bad student. And I know how badly you need my class to stay in your program so right now, you listen to me and be a good girl and maybe I’ll consider letting you pass my class.”

I cry out, “Stop please professor, I don’t understand, what are you doing?”

“Of course you don’t understand, you stupid little slut. Too dumb to even comprehend what’s going on around you huh?” He chuckles darkly and I feel his hand cup my ass briefly before it cracks down on me, spanking me harshly over my skirt.

“Ah, wait no! Please, you can’t do this!” I try and push up off the table but he’s too strong. “Oh no pretty slut, you are going to take whatever I give you or else I will fail you right now and you’ll be kicked out of the school by the end of the week. Do you want that instead?” His hand rests on my ass, kneading my flesh roughly and the other one increases the pressure on the back of my neck.

“Please, no,” I whimper brokenly. I feel him breathe deep against my hair and he groans softly. “You’re mine for the semester, slut. And you are going to do whatever I want, just to keep your pretty little self on your scholarship.”

I start to cry, shaking slightly as my tears are dripping down my face and onto his desk. His hand comes off my neck and I hold still, knowing I can’t fight back in any way. His hand flips my skirt up and he sees the white panties I’m wearing with pink little bows printed all over them. “So pretty, slut,” he says as he runs a finger down between the globes of my ass, towards my pussy. I whimper softly and my hands come to grip the side of his desk.

“I don’t want you making any noise,” he says and without warning, I feel his hand crack down on my ass again, this time with more force. The spank makes my body lurch forward on the desk, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. He doesn’t hesitate as he begins to rain down harsh spanks all over my ass and upper thighs. I cry harder, muffling my sobs as best I can as I feel each hit adding to the soreness.

He’s methodical as he continues, not stopping or slowing for what feels like hours. My ass and thighs are burning but slowly, I can feel my pussy reacting as well, swelling and starting to drip more and more with each hit. I squirm slightly, trying to discreetly rub my legs together to relieve some of the tension. He notices.

“You’re getting turned on by this aren’t you, slut?” He laughs softly and I whimper in protest, “Please no, I’m not, please stop.”

He grabs my neck again, “Don’t lie, that’s not the behavior of a good student. I can see your pretty pussy dripping through your panties from here, you dirty little slut.” I whimper, feeling my face burn as hot as my ass. He reaches down and slides a hand against my pussy, through my panties and I gasp. His fingers dance along my lips, my wetness making my panties cling to the outline of my cunt. Without warning, he grips my panties and tears them away from my body, leaving my pussy fully exposed and my skirt still bunched around my waist. I whimper and feel myself gush a little at his actions, the clench of my cunt making me feel even worse.

His fingers come to meet my bare body now, and he slides them against my slit, laughing when he feels how much I’m dripping. “Oh we’re gonna have fun this semester,” he says. His fingers pluck my swollen clit, and I arch my back and moan, the sound erupting out of me unbidden. He’s relentless as he works my clit quickly, my wetness letting his fingers slide deliciously over me, the friction making me eyes roll slightly. My legs are trembling as I feel my orgasm fast approaching and he knows it too. “Little slut, are you going to cum like this? All splayed out for your professor, so desperate for that passing grade that you’ll do anything, even degrade yourself like a common whore?” I whine softly, my head spinning from the pleasure as my pussy clenches.

I vaguely hear his belt jingling and the rustle of clothing but I’m too preoccupied with my approaching orgasm to understand what that means. He doesn’t let up on my clit and I can feel myself seconds from erupting, moans and whimpers coming out of my mouth desperately.

My body seizes and I feel my orgasm rush through me, making me let out a strangled moan as feeling hits. Suddenly, I feel his long, hard cock slam into my cunt and I wail. He fucks me hard and fast through my orgasm, not stopping to let me adjust to his length or his speed. I’m scrambling to stay on the desk as he rails into me, his harsh grunts in my ear and his bruising grip on my hips. “That’s it, squeeze my cock just like that, slut. Fuck, your cunt feels so good.”

My eyes roll back into my head as his cock pound into me, my previous orgasm hasn’t even faded before I feel a second one building. He doesn’t seem to care about slowing down to let me recover as he keeps his unforgiving pace, drilling into me and pulling groans and whimpers out of me. His hand goes back to play with my clit and I scream, the throbbing of my cunt mixed with his attention pushes my second orgasm over the edge. I feel my walls flutter around his cock and he groans in my ear as I cum, sobbing from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, he fucks me through my second orgasm, the rubbing of his cock against my g-spot making me see stars.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum in your tight little pussy slut.” I feel his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his orgasm. “I hope you’re on birth control, slut, because I’m gonna fill your cunt,” he says, his words punctuated by his thrusts. His groan is deep and guttural when he cums, the feeling of his cock erupting inside of me making my cunt clench harder around him, pulling him in. He stops for a second, letting his body cover mine, pressing even harder into the desk. His harsh breathing in my ear sends shivers down my spine.

“Flip over, get on the table, and hold yourself open,” his voice is gravelly as he pulls away from me, his cum dripping out of my cunt onto my legs. I whimper as I force my body to comply, pushing my sore and fucked out body onto his desk and spreading my legs, leaving my dripping cunt exposed to him. He smirks, “Stay there, slut.” He circles around his desk and I hear him opening a drawer and grabbing something before he comes back. It’s a vibrator. My eyes widen and I whimper, “Wait, no please. I can’t, it’s too much.” He leans into my face and growls darkly, “I don’t care, you’ll take what I give if you want to pass my class, got it slut?” I nod as tears start to fall again.

He clicks the vibrator on and I watch as the head blurs with its intensity. He brings it to my cunt, smirking slightly as he places his free hand on my hip, preemptively holding me down. His hand travels down and parts my folds to reveal my swollen clit, red and puffy from his previous attention. Without any preparation, he pushes the head of the vibrator directly on my clit and I scream. The intensity is so high and my body is already reeling from the overstimulation from his cock. The vibrator makes it all so much worse, but so good. I arch my back and buck my hips, desperately trying to dislodge him. “It’s time to earn your next grade, slut,” he says smirking.

“For every orgasm, you get 10%. Cum 10 times, and you’ll get 100% on the next essay.” My eyes widen and I sob, “No please, I can’t, please it’s too much!”

He smirks, “Or I could fail you now.”

“Ah please, no no no!” I’m crying, from the feeling of my poor clit being so thoroughly overstimulated and from the idea of him failing me. Despite my previous orgasms, I feel myself barreling towards another. The feeling builds as he grounds the vibrator harder against my clit, and I scream it out, feeling my pussy gush as I squirm and shake. He smirks, “10%.”

My next orgasm seems to blend with the first and I’m hardly coherent enough to process his words as he forces me to cum again and again.

Thirty minutes later, I’ve cum seven more times and my body is at its limit. “Please no more, please professor.” I’m almost unconscious, my voice cracking from my constant screaming and my cunt bright red from the vibrator. He’s uncaring as he stands over me, forcing my body to endure orgasm after orgasm.

“Just one more and you get a 100%, you’re so close, slut. Don’t stop now.” His smile is feral as he keeps the vibrator directly in my clit. My legs shake and I feel myself teetering at the edge of one more orgasm. The feeling overwhelms me, pain and pleasure blending into a euphoric feeling and my eyes roll and my back arches for one final time.

As the orgasm fades, my body lies limp, my legs dangling off his desk and head lolling. He finally clicks off the vibrator. “Good job slut, your first A in my class. Keep it up and maybe you’ll be passing in a month or so. I’ll see you next week same time.”

—

The semester ended last week and my grade for the class is already finalized on my transcript, an A+. But here I am, spread wide on his desk again, my cunt clenching and dripping around his cock as I cum like a perfect little whore for him.

“Such a good slut.”

#dark fantasy #nsft concept #overstim kink #cl1t torture #rap3 fantasy #mind break

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waughymommy · 2 months

Text

My first 'mature' ABDL story. It's about a husband and a wife who have a problem. I hope to write a lot more after this, so I hope you like it!

Finding Mommy

'This isn't working.'

The statement didn't come as a shock to Andrew. He knew it wasn't working. But he didn't want to look like he didn't care, so he persued it, already feeling resigned and bitter about the discussion's inevitable conclusion.

'What isn't?' he asked, softly.

'This. This whole...baby thing. I can't do it,' his wife, Tammy, waved her hand in his direction. He winced, glancing down at his apparel. A slightly soggy diaper, and a t-shirt. He'd been wearing the same thing to bed every so often for a couple months now. His wife had initially chuckled and teased him playfully, but lately...lately the playful teasing had stopped. She wouldn't remark on his padded state, except if the diaper got too close to her. 'The tapes scratch my skin,' she'd explain, but Andrew suspected it was something else.

She went on.

'I'm sorry. I thought I could. I know you really want this. But I can't do it. I can't...pretend you're a baby. The diapers were one thing...but...I can't do that,' she looked away, as if preparing herself to say something upsetting. 'You know...when you first told me...you made it sound...sound like a sex thing...I don't mind that. I don't even mind...using them, sometimes...like...like before...you know?'

She trailed off, looking at Andrew, a pained expression on her face. Andrew's mind flashed back to when he'd first told her, almost a year and a half ago. How she'd been so...accepting.

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

'Are these ones good?' Tammy asked, as she patted the package. 'I wanted to make sure I got good ones...I ordered these a few weeks after you told me...they just arrived on Monday.'

Andrew glanced at the large box of diapers, feeling a stirring of excitement at the fact that she'd bought so many...a whole case, in fact. God, what was she planning? Was this going to become a regular occurence? Was she going to keep him in diapers, for the whole day? Or wear herself? His head swam at the possibilities.

'I...uh...what are they?' he asked, licking his lips, nervously.

'Abena?' Tammy replied, scrunching up her face, trying to recall something. 'I...Abena X-plus? They had so many different names, but I think these are the good ones. Abri-form L4...The large ones...I wasn't sure what size we'd need...Oh.'

She suddenly stopped, pausing, as if worried about what she was going to say next. She reached into her (rather mysterious, to Andrew, at least) handbag, rummaging around. Andrew waited patiently for her to speak, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the large box on the bed. Abena X-plus was sure to be a world away from what he'd tried so far. He knew these were premium diapers. He felt himself jolt back to reality as Tammy started talking again.

'I bought...these...as well...'

Another package slid onto the bed, only this time it wasn't boxed or freshly delivered. It was clearly a packet of diapers. A packet of OPEN diapers.

'On the site I got the...uh...Abenas from, they were selling purple ones, too,' she said, nervously. 'So...I got some of those, in a smaller size...'

Andrew's mind could have exploded at that moment. Tammy stood up from the bed, an audible crinkling coming from her pyjama bottoms. Andrew couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the bulge of her diaper before, but he certainly noticed now. He stared at her rump almost hungrily as she turned sideways, looking coyly at him, grabbing the edge of her pyjama top and starting to lift it, revealing the purple waistband of the diaper.

Andrew stepped forwards, reaching out. His hand ran over her bottom, slipping off her trousers, until she was standing in just a diaper and a shirt. He patted the material of padding, pulling her close to him, hand trailing around and around the crinkly undergarment, feeling it, feeling /her/ through it.

'I...I guess you like it?' Tammy asked, feeling a little awkward. Andrew made a noise halfway between a sigh and a groan.

'Yes,' he replied, simply.

'Would you like to wear one, too?' she asked, wriggling her bottom against his crotch, making him tense a little.

'Y...yes...' he gasped, hardly believing what was happening...

'Then lay down on the bed for me...'

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

That night had been amazing. Andrew couldn't believe his luck. They'd spent the whole evening in diapers, exploring and experimenting. It felt like his wildest fantasies had come true. This beautiful woman, his future wife (he'd chosen to tell her a little while after they got engaged), was willing to wear and use diapers for him. He couldn't believe it.

She seemed almost as eager as him, that evening. She did everything he'd ever fantasized about, sexually. She wet. She asked for a change. She changed him...they even had...well. Andrew wasn't sure what to call it. Lots of rubbing. Wet, squishy diapers pressing together, then pulled aside for the 'main event'. Was that diaper sex? He supposed so. It was wonderful, whatever it was.

He wondered if what happened next had been a turning point. At the end of the evening, when they were snuggled in bed, she'd sighed contentedly and lazily rolled out of bed.

'Be right back, hun,' she told him huskily, slipping out of the room in an instant.

She'd returned, after a couple minutes, undiapered, her bottoms now back on. She'd smiled and gotten back into bed with him.

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

'Why did you take it off?' Andrew asked, a little confused. 'Didn't you like it?'

Tammy dodged the question, but sounded just as confused as Andrew. 'Well...we're done now, aren't we? I'm really tired...I don't think you're up to going again, even I wasn't...'

She paused, sidling up to him in the bed, absent-mindedly flattening the covers over her. 'Why haven't you taken yours off?' she asked, finally.

'I...Well. I just...thought I'd like to keep it on. That's...okay, right?'

A few moments ago, he'd been certain it would be. It seemed silly even to ask. But now he wasn't so sure.

'Oh. Um. Sure,' Tammy replied, smiling again. 'I love you.'

She kissed him, turning away, and Andrew slipped his arms around her from behind, murmuring 'I love you, too' into her neck.

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

'That was okay. It made me feel...sexy. I loved that I could have that effect on you. It made me feel good, too,' she thought for a moment. 'I felt like your partner, then. I felt like I was desirable, sexually, like...like this was a special secret, between us. Something for the bedroom, something kinky and fun. I didn't care that it was nappies, I knew people had fetishes...but this isn't just a fetish, is it?'

Andrew swallowed as she fixed him with a steely gaze.

'Is it, Andrew?'

He shook his head 'no'. It was more than that. He wished he'd explained before. He thought she'd understood.

'You...want to be a baby, don't you?'

Andrew's mouth opened in protest.

'No! I mean...not all the ti-'

Tammy raised a hand, cutting him off.

'I know. Not all the time. Not most of the time. Not forever. Just occasionally, right? Like when I tried before...but for real?'

Andrew swallowed and nodded again. He remembered the brief times she'd tried to play 'Mommy'.

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

'Uh...crawl to me...come here, you naughty little baby...'

Tammy's voice was strained, as she patted the top of her legs, calling Andrew over.

Meanwhile, Andrew himself was feeling...well. He wasn't sure exactly.

There was something a little exciting about the humiliation his wife was bringing to this role. He found something arousing about how she threatened to spank him, how she called him names and teased him. It felt, well, /naughty/, and he decided he sort of liked that. It was very erotic.

But...he wasn't looking for this to be erotic. Something was wrong. He didn't feel like a baby; he felt like a naughty boy being punished. He didn't feel safe and looked after. He felt chastised and a little ashamed. He felt unspeakably adult, despite the baby bonnet and mittens he was wearing. Instead of an innocent little baby, he was some weird guy, crawling around, pretending to be an infant, calling his wife 'Mommy'.

'Crawl to me!' Tammy repeated.

Andrew sighed, starting to move.

'Yes, Mommy...'

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

'I thought that was really weird, but you know...' Tammy shrugged. 'I tried. For you. I thought you wanted that. I thought it was a sex thing still.'

Andrew shuffled in the bed, feeling uncomfortable. He wished he hadn't worn to bed, now. He'd felt a pang when he'd gone to pad up; his case of abenas was nearly empty; her package of molicares was two thirds full. He hadn't expected her to use them of her own volition, but it was a reminder of just how infrequently she'd worn, for him or otherwise.

'Then,' Tammy continued. 'Then you told me that wasn't what you wanted, either. You wanted it to be more...innocent...more 'snuggly'.' That last word was almost a snarl, and Andrew felt himself flinch.

'So I tried that, too. But I couldn't do it...I mean...' she sighed, pushing the hair back out of her eyes, sighing in frustration. 'Remember what I told you when you told me this stuff?'

Andrew nodded.

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

'Aren't I...doing enough?' Tammy asked, a look of confusion on her face.

'No! No, it's not that...it's more that you're doing it the wrong way...' Andrew immediately regretted his words, seeing his wife's expression turn sour.

'No! I mean...I...I think maybe I didn't really explain what I want, not properly. It's not just the baby stuff, dressing up and that...I want...' he swallowed, hesitant.

'Well...I want it to be more...um...innocent? Like...like...I was a rea...' he stopped himself. 'Like, more snuggly? You know? Maybe some...cuddles...at bedt- at night time...I'd like to be, um...held...sometimes...'

Tammy stared at him as if he had just sprouted a third head.

'So...you want me to be like your real mother?'

'No!'

'As if you were a real baby, right?'

'I...No...I mean...it's not like you're my real mother...I...I just want you to...'

'To what? Look after you? Like an infant?' Tammy demanded, her voice even.

'I...I...in a way...yes...I just don't want it to always be so...sexual...'

Tammy sighed. There was a silence before she finally spoke.

'Okay. Look. This is pretty weird to me. I'm not comfortable with it. But I love you, Andrew. I always will,' she looked up as she spoke, taking Andrew's hand in her own. 'But I don't know how to deal with this. I don't think I can...do that. I'm sorry.'

'Oh.' replied Andrew, simply. He hated himself at that moment. If he'd been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.

'But,' Tammy started, nibbling her lip. 'BUT. I'd like to be okay with it. So...You can do something...something small...I don't know, you could wear a nappy to bed. And I'll try to get more comfy with the idea.'

Andrew's heart leapt. Everything was going to be okay.

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

Andrew's heart sank. Everything was going wrong.

But Tammy wasn't done yet...

'I tried so hard to...to accept this. I started off like...like it was no big deal, remember? I used to tease you and you'd smile and for a bit, I thought maybe I could be okay with it. But then, then you started to...I don't know. Resent me? You pulled away. It wasn't enough for you. And maybe I pulled away, too. It hurt to see you wanting me to give you something I wouldn't, couldn't give you. It hurt to see you shut me out because I couldn't understand. So...now we're here...'

'Where is here?' Andrew said, asking, for the second time that night, a question which he really didn't feel he needed to ask, but if he didn't ask it, he knew it would appear he didn't care.

'Here? Here is...my husband wants to be treated like a baby...NON sexually...and I can't cope with it,’ she paused, seemingly thinking hard about something. Her mouth opened again, this time drawing out the sound of one little word, waiting for a statement to follow it.

‘So….’

Andrew swallowed. He waited for the crushing blow. He didn’t know what she would say, but he could guess.

‘So you can’t wear diapers anymore around me…’

‘So I don’t want diapers in the house anymore…’

‘So I don’t love him anymore….’

‘So I /can’t/ love him anymore, and I think we need to get a divorce…’

He knew whatever was said next would change their relationship forever. He was about to lose something, he didn’t know what exactly, but he also knew life would be a lot harder without him. He looked up at her with grim determination, resigned to whatever awful things came out of her mouth next.

‘So…’ she began again, and Andrew felt himself stiffen, worry making his heart pound.

‘So I think we need to find him…find you…someone who can.’

Andrew gawped at her. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. What was she saying? Was she leaving him? She must be… she was just being the wonderful woman she always had been, willing to help him find a more ‘appropriate’ mate, someone who’d be happy to indulge him. He felt his eyes sting a little as tears formed, before, in the silence, another possibility occurred to him.

She’d been watching him closely, and seemed to notice as a flash of something, hope, realization maybe, passed across his face. He addressed her again, voice shaky.

‘Do you mea-‘ he was cut off abruptly.

‘I mean, just someone to do that for you, you know?’ Tammy explained, her voice emphasizing the word ‘that’ in a way that made it clear she found ‘that’ distasteful. ‘I…no sex. I’m not leaving you. I love you, I always will, I think. I hope. I just…I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Andrew. And…I know this is so, so important to you. I see it, Andy, I see how much you want it…’

It’s her turn to look scared now, her eyes filled with tears, rolling freely down her cheeks. She’s shivering, but it’s not cold. Wordlessly, Andrew embraced her, his own manly sob joining her small, squeaking ones, her voice cracking as she tried to go on.

‘I…I don’t want to lose you…I’m…I wanted so badly to m…make you happy, but I CAN’T. I’m a horrible, awful wife. I’m a fuck-up. I…I don’t know why you married me!’ she howls, throwing herself into Andrew’s chest, his arms soothing her, rubbing her back, shh-ing her like you would a crying child. A tiny smile formed on his lips for a moment, as he considered the role reversal.

But it was soon replaced by another kind of smile, the kind that happens when you realize maybe you’re not alone, that your partner is just as afraid of what’s happening as you. That he or she is afraid of the exact same things. It was a tearful, almost regret-filled smile.

‘If only we’d talked about this sooner…’

He shook his head, clearing his mind. Right now, he had to help Tammy feel better.

‘Ohh…oh hun…’ he said, his own voice wavering, fighting back another hard sob. ‘Shhh… you know, I’ve been worried about the same thing. I thought I was an awful husband. I wondered why you wanted to be with me. I didn’t understand. I thought…just now, you were going to leave me…’

Tammy jerked back, head snapping upwards to look at him, a look of something…hurt, Andrew decides. Hurt he’d think she would do that. Her face pink and flushed, her cheeks damp with too many tears.

‘Never,’ She retorted, instantly, and then she was back in his arms, crying anew. ‘Never…I…I NEVER want to lose you…’

Andrew smiled again, sighing, a little in relief. Of course, given her earlier outburst, he already knew that…but it was lovely to have confirmation.

‘I know Tam, I really do. Now, at least. But I want to let you know, I love you too. I don’t think you’re an awful wife…you’ve been so understanding. Please, don’t think I don’t love you, don’t think I resent you, or hate you or think ANYTHING bad about you, after you’ve tried so hard to fulfill me and my selfish, perverted desires.’

He felt her shaking her head, disagreeing, with the part about her trying so hard, or the part about his desires being perverted, or both, or something else…he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter at that moment.

‘So I’m just telling you, no matter what, I’ll love you. I’d have loved you even if you said I could never wear another diaper. I’d have loved you even if you told me you’d stopped loving me. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself…’

Tammy’s cheeks turned a little pinker, her sobs dying down.

‘Are you sure?’ she asks, not moving to look at him.

‘Positive,’ he says, more confident now. ‘Do you feel better now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you ready to talk about…it?’

‘…Yes.’

There was a pause as Tammy pulled away, slowly, reluctantly, so she could look at him. She smiled, her eyes wandering over him, as if appreciating him newly. When she reached the diaper her expression clouded, eyes flitting back up to his, as if just remembering they had something else to discuss now.

‘So…do you mean it?’ Andrew asked, anxiously.

‘Yes.’

He looked unconvinced, so Tammy continued.

‘I don’t have a problem with it. I really don’t. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, an-‘

‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’

‘Wh-what?’

‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’ Andrew repeated, his tone not demanding or forceful, but genuinely curious.

‘I…well…’ Tammy looked away, embarrassed. ‘I was scared…’

‘Why?’

‘Well…first I was worried you’d say no, because she wouldn’t be me, and you wouldn’t be able to feel anything with her. And if you said no, I’d be out of options. I don’t know what would h-happen if…’ her voice broke again, eyes swimming with tears. Andrew frowned slightly.

‘What else?’

‘I was afraid if you said yes, you would love her...too much. You’d leave me. Because you don’t love me at all, not anymore…how could you? I mean-‘

Andrew squeezed her hand suddenly, shaking his head, stopping her from working herself up again.

‘Not true, love. I want you. I love you. I’m not going to replace you. Even if I agree to this, I promise,nobody’ll never replace you…are you sure you’re okay with this?’

Tammy nodded.

‘Yes.’

‘What…sort of things would she, uh, do?’

‘I don’t know,’ Tammy admitted, seeming to shrink back a little. ‘I mean…change you? Give you bottles…pacifiers…play with you like a real baby.’

Andrew felt his heart flutter twice; once at the prospect of a genuine Mommy in his life, after so long… and once at the sudden feeling of utter love for Tammy that swept over him. ‘The ideal woman…’ he thought, snorting somewhere inside his head at how corny that was.

‘Would I be allowed to call her Mo…’ Andrew blushed, dropping his voice to a whisper.

‘Mommy?’ he finished, waiting.

‘Yes. Of course. I mean, that’s what you want, right? A Mommy? For the…the baby inside you? Just no sexual stuff. Please. I need that from you.’

Andrew nodded unhesitatingly. The thought of having sex with another woman (beyond occasional fantasies) had never even crossed his mind. He was missing an emotional, platonic, maternal bond, not a passionate sexual one.

They both smiled a moment, almost in triumph. They were still together. This might just work out.

‘So…’ Tammy started, grinning now.

‘So…’ Repeated Andrew, a playful smirk joining hers. ‘What do we do now?’

‘Now? Now we sleep. I’m so tired. I just want to be held. I’m so…worn out…’ she leant forwards again, nuzzling his chest, smiling softly. She sighed, a long, happy sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

‘Okay…do…you want me to go change before we-‘

‘No. I don’t want you to leave.’

Her tone was demanding that time, and Andrew chuckled. She wriggled, pulling the covers out from under them both, as they each shuffled and worked to lie down, his arms still wrapped around her. Their heads reaching the pillows, Tammy smiled wearily, shifting away a little, finding her husband’s body too warm for comfort. He leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead.

‘Goodnight Tammy…’

‘Goodnight…’ she hesitated, wondering if she was really going to say this, worrying he’d take it the wrong way. She stopped hesitating.

‘Baby,’ she added, one hand slipping down and squeezing the soggy bulge of his diaper. She watched his face for a reaction.

Andrew blushed a little as she withdrew her hand.

It was a simple, loving gesture. A show of acceptance.

It hadn’t meant anything else. She wasn’t going to baby him. She didn’t see him that way. She didn’t want to be ‘Mommy’. She was his wife, and she was just showing how much she cared, how safe he was with her, how much she truly wanted him to be happy, even in this.

At that moment, that was all that Andrew needed.

He lifted his hand to squeeze her retreating one, smiling.

‘Thanks,’ he said, earnestly.

With that, she sighed slightly and turned around, snuggling into him backwards. Tomorrow, she thought, was sure to be a very interesting day.

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asonofpeter · 9 months

Text

Night Shift

Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: Jaime doesn't like that you work a night shift at a bar, so setting out to get a job at Kord Industries, you're shocked when he comes home with something else....

Warnings: mentions of men being pervs, lots of screaming and a little bit of violence, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: My first full fic in a while? Yes, it is indeed and with my new love, Jaime Reyes. If you haven't seen Blue Beetle, pause and go buy a ticket cause this movie is good! So proud of mi Xolito! Anyway, I'm proud of this, so enjoy! 💕💕💕

I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.

“You don’t have to do this, y’know? I’ll get the job tomorrow and work hard to support the family and us,” Jaime stood up from your bed, grabbing hold of your hands to stop you from getting ready for work.

“Jaime, I know you want to do everything you can to stop us from losing the house, but we need the money, wherever we can get it from,” you inhaled.

You moved in with the Reyes three years ago after your parents kicked you out. The details are unimportant and messy but you were happy you ended up in a loving household after all. The only problem now, you’re on the brink of becoming homeless.

“But a job where drunk assholes violate you?” he scoffed and you rolled your eyes, knowing most customers haven’t gotten handsy since you started. “It’s not right,” he shook his head, squeezing your hands. “I don’t want you to have to go through that,” he rested his forehead against yours.

You knew he meant well. It sucked having to work at a bar where wearing low-cut tops and push-up bras made for extra tips. Especially when you worked during the night. But then again, even when businesses are going bankrupt, bars are seemingly filling in at an all-time high. You had to take advantage of the dire situation even if Jaime didn’t like it.

“I can handle my own,” you smirked. “Nana taught me a thing or two,” you winked.

“I bet she did,” he chuckled.

“And besides,” you removed your hands from his grip, smoothing them up his arms until they rested on his biceps. “I have my big strong boyfriend to protect me,” you looked at him finding the blush forming on his face adorable.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in as he leaned forward to kiss you. His lips moved against yours slowly, one of your hands moving up to tug on the hair of the nape of his neck.

Living in a small house with five other people gave you no privacy whatsoever, so moments like these were cherished. All those stolen glances, hidden kisses, late-night talks—it all meant something.

“I gotta go, okay? I’ll see you in the morning,” you pulled away.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you walk to work alone at eleven at night,” he grabbed your arm lightly, pulling you back into his embrace. “I’ll be there to pick you up at seven too,” he said and you sighed out contently.

“It means a lot, but don’t you have your job interview tomorrow?” you rested your head against his chest as you both walked out of your and Milagro’s room.

“I’ll sleep, wake up, pick you up, then come back and get ready,” he shrugged and you agreed with his well-thought-out plan.

“Ya te vas, mija?” Rocio asked once you both entered the kitchen and you nodded. “Cuidate, y come tu comida, no quiero que te desmayes,” she handed you a paper sack and you smiled, thanking her.

It was things like that which made you grateful for Jaime’s family—your family. The constant protection and worry they hold over you like one would for a daughter or sister. Making sure you had a lunch packed so you can eat and not faint during your shift. It warmed your heart and made you grateful every day.

“Make sure she gets there safe, okay, Jaime?” Alberto pointed to his son and your boyfriend nodded, reassuring the two.

Walking out of the house, you found your hands intertwined as you made your way down the block. You glanced at Jaime to find him smiling at you before he looked ahead. You grinned at the fact you caught him before you too continued your focus forward.

Palerma City was alive at night, even in the small barrio you lived in. The streets were dark, flickering lamp posts illuminating the people who were still up trying to make a living by whatever means. You looked far past, the bright neon skyline of the city, all the rows of high rises where all the rich white folk were fast asleep tucked away in silk sheets.

You would get there one day.

“What did my mom pack for your lunch?” he asked, pulling you out of your thought.

“A torta de jamon, an apple and orange, some Fritos, and oh, a gansito,” you gasped in excitement before you stuffed the bag in your backpack. “I know exactly what I’m eating first,” you giggled.

“My mom literally said we ran out of gansitos,” he said in shock. “She loves you more than me,” he feigned hurt and you wrapped your arm around him, cooing as you kissed his cheek.

“What can I say? I’m lovable,” you hummed.

The two of you turned the corner and you found yourself at “Margaritaville”, the newest establishment where you got paid minimum wage and received great tips from businessmen who got off on a pretty bartender flirting with them before they made their way home to their wives. Or from people who recently got laid off from their jobs and needed someone to talk to.

Either way, you’d put on your best smile, bat your lashes and make sure your top was low enough if that meant being able to pay part of the rent.

“Be safe, okay?” Jaime pulled you in for a hug. “I’ll be awake at 6:30,” he promised.

“I will,” you mumbled into his neck before pulling away. “See you soon,” you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He cupped your cheek before you pulled away, your fingers pulling along his, straining to stay in touch as you kept moving toward the door until they unlinked, his arm stayed hovered in the air for a split moment while yours dropped to the side. He watched as you turned back and waved until you entered through the back door, making sure to stay for a minute before he turned back around.

The lingering touch of you remained on his fingers until he arrived home and made his way to bed. It wasn’t fair you had to become a main stream of income for the house. It shouldn’t be you pulling in the long hours, it should be him.

He needed to get that interview at Kord Industries tomorrow.

You undid your apron, shoving it back into your backpack. You let out a sigh as you did a once over to the barely empty bar. The next shift already arrived and was taking care of the customers. Letting out a yawn, you placed your tips in your pocket, opening the back door only to be greeted by Jaime who was waiting at the curb.

“Buenos dias, mi amor,” he smiled and you felt your cheeks blush at the pet name he liked to change out every once in a while. “Made you breakfast,” he handed you something rolled in some paper towels before you unveiled two bean burritos. “How was work?” he kissed your cheek while he took your bag from you.

“Made $150 in tips,” you stated, biting into your food. “Getting paid tomorrow, so it went well,” you nodded. “Customers were more to themselves tonight, except for this one guy who was crying about his wife leaving him. I think he left looking for a prostitute to be honest,” you chuckled.

“Poor dude,” he hummed. “But the money is good,” he said, wrapping his arm around you.

The rest of the short walk was made in silence and it was calming to just have Jaime by your side. The eight-hour shift takes it out on you and you couldn’t wait to go to sleep.

“Hola,” you greeted as you walked through the door.

“Como te fue?” Nana asked and you responded to her before a yawn came out.

“Disculpe,” you pressed a hand to your chest. “I’m gonna go shower,” you said, the family understanding as you made your way to your room.

After a quick shower and changing into casual wear, you felt refreshed as you walked back into the family room. The whole family was gathered as Jaime stood in the middle, hair geled back and his fancy clothes put on.

“Wow, que chulo,” you complimented with a bright smile plastered on your face as you stood behind the couch.

“You see, cabezon? You look fine,” Uncle Rudy told his nephew and Jaime nodded in defeat, clearly flustered. “Y/N wouldn’t lie, she loves you too much for that!” he cackled and you joined in, making Jaime blush even more.

“Let’s go and get this over with, I still don’t trust that Jenny girl,” Milagro muttered under her breath and you sent a glance at Jaime.

You were aware of what happened when Milagro and Jaime lost their job with Victoria Kord. Millie was correct to have a distaste for the older lady, but after her niece offered an olive branch, giving Jaime an opportunity–you weren’t sure if she was in the right to have that distrust. But then again, you weren’t there.

“Descansas, okay?” Nana kissed you on the cheek and gave you the blessing before she walked out and you nodded.

The rest of the family walked out, leaving you and Jaime left.

“Good luck, okay?” you grabbed his face and gave him a chaste good luck kiss. “I know you’re gonna woo them over,” you sent him a sure smile.

“How are you so sure about that?” he held your wrists, running his thumbs over your delicate skin.

“Cause, you’re Jaime Reyes”.

“You don’t know what’s inside?” you heard Millie ask.

You were awakened by muffled conversations, your brows furrowing as you checked the time. They couldn’t have come back that soon and if something serious happened, they would’ve woken you up.

About to drift back to sleep, you eyes shot open by shouting. The voices of Jaime, Millie, and Rudy combine together. Bolting out of bed fast, you opened the door and ran into the dining room, finding Millie and Rudy to be playing hot potato with a blue bug, Jaime trying to get them to stop.

“Mira, look what you did! You woke her up,” Rocio gestured to you and the room suddenly got quiet.

“Ay, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jaime winced, trying to grab the thing from Millie but she held it out of his reach.

“Look what Jaime brought back. That Jenny girl is a total floozy, like what is this that she gave him?” she cocked a brow, holding it clearly so you could see.

“A bug?” you rubbed your eyes. “Why would she give you a bug?” you asked, walking closer.

“She told me to guard it with my life, I wasn’t even supposed to open it,” your boyfriend explained and his words made you uneasy.

“I think you should put it back, you don’t know what it can be,” you turned to Millie.

“She’s right,” Jaime held out his hand and Milagro reluctantly agreed, placing it in his palm.

You watched as he was about to place it back in the box until it lit up, his face inching closer to inspect it. You stared back in amazement, the bug coming to life.

“I think it likes me,” he grinned, glancing up at you with a twinkle in your eyes that made your heart skip a beat. But that smile was instantly wiped away the moment the bug launched itself onto his face.

“JAIME!” you screeched, the family shooting up from their seats as they tried to aid him.

“It’s on your face!” Uncle Rudy screamed before he grabbed onto the bug, attempting to rip it off but it shot out a bolt of electricity, sending him across the room and Jaime against the wall.

Your body began to shake and you wanted to run over to help Jaime but he got up, the bug detaching from his face until it crawled over his shoulder and under his shirt like a spider you wanted off immediately.

“Jaime!” you shouted, his body thrashing around the room like he was fighting with the bug. “Baby, please,” you cried, hands over your mouth as you tried to begin to process what was going on but you couldn’t.

“Oh god,” Jaime stilled, hunched over as he looked at you. “I think it’s inside of me,” his gaze filled with panic and you felt your skin crawl. “It’s inside of me!” he screamed, hand reaching out for yours before he doubled over in pain, the bug poking out underneath his clothes before arms pierced through, sending him up against the ceiling.

Another wave of screams sounded, the love of your life’s agony cries being the worst thing you ever heard. The tears were falling down your cheeks. You wanted to help him but couldn’t. You wanted to know what was going on but didn’t. You were completely helpless in this situation.

Black goo grew over his body, his clothes burning to crisps and you were afraid of what it was going to do once it got all of him. Were you about to lose your Jaime? How did you get to this point when it was just a job interview?

“Y/N!” his call for you made your heart stop and you tried telling him you were here but his cries drowned it out.

Suddenly, he was completely transformed, a suit of armor in black and blue engulfed him. The cries and the screams quieted down as you all stared at him. A split second ago, you thought he was going to die, but now he was fine? It didn’t make sense.

“Mijo?” Rocio called out as Jaime walked over to the photo of La Virgen, his illuminating yellow eyes staring back into the reflection.

“What was that?” he looked back in shock, hands over his mouth. “Did you hear that?” his voice was panicked, his expression hidden with the eyes providing just the tiniest amount of concern.

“Jaime, what’s going on?” you took a step forward.

“That voice, you don’t hear a voice?” he walked forward, standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by all of you. The suit seemed to have turned on, blue light glowing between grooves and you all watched in awe. “Systems check?” he mumbled, looking around the room.

“Jaime?” you asked, noticing the arms powering up.

“It’s okay, everything is going to be okay!” he shouted just as he was flown through the ceiling before he became a dot in the sky.

Nothing was okay.

Reblogs are the best!

#jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes fanfiction #blue beetle #blue beetle 2023 #xolo maridueña

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the-boy-meets-evil · 10 months

Text

you're mine | c.sc

you thought you had finally gotten the upper hand on seungcheol. you were wrong. pairing: idol!seungcheol x fem!reader genre: idol!au | smut, pwp rating: explicit | minors DNI warnings: this is mostly just smut so take that how you will, reader is kinda bratty, scoups is possessive, slight dom undertones (? idk i don't usually write this), swearing, kissing, biting, marking, restraints, sensory deprivation (blindfold), fingering, brief mention of a hand job, slight nipple play, use of a pet name (baby, pretty girl), oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal penetration, protected sex, i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything word count: ~3.5k

a/n: idk what to say, this kind of got away from me lol. credit/blame to @seungkwansphd for putting the idea in my head and scoups for whatever bullshit he was on in macao. it was supposed to be a drabble and this isn't what i'd normally write so go easy on me. unbeta'd and mostly unedited. thank you to my baby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations for the last minute banner and divider!

You’ve never been much of a brat with anyone else. It just isn’t something that crossed your mind. Why would you want to rile someone up on purpose? Why would you want to get under their skin just to see their response? Why would you want to do the opposite of what they asked? So no, it hasn’t crossed your mind.

Until Seungcheol.

Until you met the man that made you want to cause problems. The man that made you discover a lot of things you didn’t know about yourself. The man that had you from the moment he told you that he was going to go easy on you. You didn’t realize then, but you were fucked. Talk about being in over your head.

He really did start easy, in hindsight. And he let you get away with things you didn’t even realize. Thought you had the upper hand, actually. How many ways can one person be wrong? You don’t have the answer beyond knowing it’s a lot.

You love the moments that Seungcheol lets you think you’re in control. You know now that’s all it is. Pretend. He’s always the one actually pulling the strings. And you’re always the one trying to press his buttons, press your luck, gain some ground.

Today’s test? You want to mark him up. You want to leave your claim on him, but you know you can’t make it obvious. Don’t feel like you can push his buttons quite that hard. So even though you want to mark up his neck, you settle for his chest. You keep telling him that it’s getting too big anyway. Just who is he trying to impress?

Seungcheol is lying in your bed, one arm tucked behind his head and eyes closed. You know he’s not asleep, though, know he’s just enjoying a minute of peace before he has to leave and return to the chaos. And you know now is the best time because he really does have to go soon. It’s the best time to be able to get him and win, even if just for a moment, because there’s a lot of things he’ll do. A lot of things you still haven’t learned. But he’ll never be late. Never miss a schedule or leave his members waiting.

So you adjust your position under the premise of stretching, not really sure if he buys the act but also not really caring. You push yourself up and quickly swing a leg over his thighs, feel them clench under you quickly as you’re settling on top of them.

“And just who are you working out for?” you challenge, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” is his only answer as he opens his eyes to look up at you.

“Maybe I don’t want everyone else to see how good you look,” you pout.

“Maybe you should behave yourself then,” he retorts and you huff.

“I’m pretty sure you prefer it when I don’t,” you say.

You lean forward to kiss him before he can answer, lips meeting softly as his hands move up your thighs to grip your hips. He’s anchoring you to him and you know he’s mentally counting how much time he actually has. But you don’t want to give him that chance, don’t want to give up the tiny bit of control this position and the element of surprise have given you. You get the smallest bit of satisfaction when you break the kiss and he follows your lips. It’s not the time to get distracted, though, not now. So you kiss down his neck, suck just enough to earn a hiss out of him without it being enough to leave a mark. Not there at least.

When you get to his chest, the muscles in his thighs tighten again. On purpose, you think, to distract you. It’s hard to ignore too, especially when his hands grip your hips harder. When you can tell he’s trying to throw you off.

“Baby,” he whines and you know that whine, know that it’s designed to distract.

All you do is hum against his chest as you continue to kiss across it and down his stomach. His moans are low, the kind that really get to you. The kind where you know he’s enjoying himself even if he’s not fully in control. You kiss back up to his chest and can feel his breaths as you go.

“What are you going to do now, baby?” he asks. You hear the confidence in his voice. The confidence that usually makes you stutter.

Not today, though. You suddenly suck the skin of his chest into your mouth. Seunghcheol hisses in the most satisfying way at the combination of pleasure and pain. His fingers dig into your skin where they hold you in place, making you hum into his skin. It just makes you keep going, managing to suck two marks into his skin before his alarm goes off.

Without needing to be told, you slide off of him and allow him to get out of the bed. You know he doesn’t want to leave, but you know he’ll be back. Know that he’s got to keep to his schedule or he won’t be able to come over at all. After he’s pulled his shirt back on and gathered his things, he comes to stand in front of where you’re sitting at the edge of the bed. His kiss is soft, at odds with yours from moments ago.

“Listen carefully,” he whispers into your ear in that low voice. “I expect you to be waiting in bed when I text you that I’m headed back.”

“Is that so?” you challenge.

“Yes, pretty girl,” he says.

“And if I’m not?” you press.

“You’ll find out,” he answers.

That alone sends a shiver down your spine. You always want him to come back, never feel like you’ve had quite enough, but this is something even more. You’re looking forward to it.

The text comes a little later than you’re expecting saying that he’s on his way back over. And it comes without an apology for the lateness (though Jeonghan had texted you earlier to let you know things were running long). No, this text just comes with a reminder that expects you to be waiting for him in bed. He’ll let himself in.

It gives you too good of a chance, one you don’t want to pass up. He’s expecting you to listen, especially after you marked him earlier. But you’ve been waiting for this. And you’re not going to listen.

Ten minutes later, you hear the key turn in the lock and you sit further back into the couch wearing only one of his t-shirts he’s left behind and underwear. Maybe you’ll get to see a little of his control slipping.

His eyes are on you the second he’s through the door, narrowing at the open defiance. Seungcheol is serious as he regards you sitting there. It’s like he’s waiting for you to break first and confident you will. It makes you fidget a little in your seat, which seems to be enough for him.

“I asked you to be waiting in bed,” he says.

“I know,” you respond without missing a beat. “I guess I’m not so good at following directions.”

“And what do you think I should do?” He’s more so asking himself the question than you.

“Whatever you want,” you answer anyway. He raises an eyebrow.

“Careful what you ask for, pretty girl,” he warns.

“I think I can handle it.” It comes out just as bold as you mean for it to.

“We’ll see about that,” he says without missing a beat. “Follow me.”

Every part of you wants to protest, wants to keep pushing him further to see what happens. But your curiosity is also piqued and you really want to see what it is that he’s planning now. That must be why you let the intrusive thought win and follow him back into your bedroom where you find him already reaching into the drawer of your nightstand. The same drawer that he filled so you were always ready.

“Are you going to behave now and get on the bed like I asked?” Seungcheol asks with his back still to you.

“I’m not sure,” you say and smirk at the way it makes him turn around.

“Oh you’re not?” he asks.

“What’s in it for me if I start listening? Who’s going to rile you up?” you fire back at him.

“You like seeing me riled up,” he notes.

“Of course I do,” you offer.

He closes the space between you in a matter of steps and crushes his lips against yours to prevent another retort. The surprise gives way to desire as you wind your arms around his neck. You’re not even that surprised when he grabs you and lifts you up to deposit you onto the bed, despite the gasp that falls from your lips. He puts a knee between your legs and kisses you hard again before he breaks the kiss to pull off your shirt. You reach to remove your underwear and he stops your hands.

“Leave those,” he says before getting off the bed.

His back is to you again as he looks for something in the drawer. You have to squeeze your legs together when he turns back to you with silk scarves in his hands. But then he’s silently asking your permission before attaching each wrist to the headboard and you’re nodding even as you’re squirming. It’s not until you realize he’s still got something in his hands that you remember he promised you’d find out what happens when you don’t listen.

“What’s that for, Cheol?” you ask as he straddles your lap.

“I told you that you’d find out,” he answers and leans forward so his lips are nearly on your ear. “You don’t get to see what I’m doing. Just remember the word to use if it’s too much.”

That makes you swallow hard. You’ve talked about sensory deprivation and explored it a little, but you’ve never been blindfolded from the start. And part of you thinks that he’s going to leave this on you the entire time. A reminder of who’s actually calling the shots. He’s still gentle when he secures it behind your head, so careful that he doesn’t get any of your hair caught. You blink your eyes when it’s in place without it making much of a difference. You’re not totally blinded, but you might as well be. You can barely make out a shadow.

The next thing you’re aware of is Seungcheol’s lips against your neck, carefully trailing kisses that make you want to press into him. His thumb brushes across your nipple and you whimper, earning a chuckle out of him. Not being able to see is making everything feel a lot bigger. Just making it feel a lot more. There’s no knowing where his hands or mouth will be next and it’s turning you on. Making you want everything all at once.

Seunghcheol drags your nipple between his teeth and you arch into him, careful not to pull too hard against the restraints. The hand he runs down your side as he continues to tease your nipple should tickle, would under any other circumstances. It doesn’t this time, though.

“Are you going to listen to me next time?” he murmurs against your skin.

“I don’t know,” you manage between a moan. Your nipples are so sensitive.

“What was that?” he asks before he returns to kissing along the underside of your breast while his hand massages the other.

“I said I don’t know,” you repeat, fighting against the answer he wants.

“I guess the blindfold stays on,” he muses.

With that, he works his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses mixed with goosebumps from the warmth of his breath. Part of you wants to anticipate his moves and you open your legs, just slightly. He chuckles so quietly that you think usually you wouldn’t hear it. Except now everything sounds louder. You feel him remove his lips from your body, feel the bed shift from him moving somehow, and then feel his lips make contact with your skin again. But he’s kissing down from your knee, completely avoiding the place you want him the most. Even your moans and squirming do nothing to make him move on from kissing along your calf.

“Please baby,” you beg.

“Please what?” he asks, smirk clear in his voice.

“I need you,” you answer.

“Do you?” is all he asks

“Yes, Seungcheol, please,” you whine.

“Are you going to listen next time?” he wonders. He runs a finger up your inner thigh, stopping just shy of the material separating you from what you need most.

“Cheol,” you plead.

“Are you?” he repeats. This time he moves your underwear to the side and runs a single finger between your folds. It’s over entirely too fast. “So wet.”

“Fuck, yes Cheol, whatever you want, I just fucking need you,” you beg again.

His answer comes in the form of pulling your underwear down swiftly, leaving you naked before him. He runs his finger along your folds again, collecting some of the wetness there. You’re so hyper aware of him that you’re moaning from the barest touch, moaning when you feel his fingers pull away again. But then you feel him move around you and he licks into you without warning, spreading your folds with his fingers to get his tongue deeper.

“Fuck, baby, fuuuuck,” you yell.

You want to have your hands in his stupid blond hair, the hair he knew was going to drive you crazy. Want to hold his face between your thighs. So you lightly squeeze your thighs together instead and he moans into your cunt. It’s annoying, actually, how good he’s always been at going down on you because just the thought of it makes you agree to damn near anything.

Everything just feels that much more intense. Usually you love the sight of Seungcheol between your legs. Love to watch the way his head moves, love to see the way his hair falls, love the way the muscles move. Still do. But damn there’s something about not knowing what’s coming that’s making it that much hotter.

Seconds later his mouth moves up your clit and your back arches into his mouth again. He follows it by sliding a finger inside you and you really think you see stars. Hearing the way he moans into you along with the way his fingers move is almost too much. You don’t need to see anything, he’s setting your entire body on fire. When he slides a second finger in and hooks them to hit you just right, you scream out again.

He pulls his mouth away. “Oh, do you like that?”

“Fuuuuu- oh my god Cheol, yes yes,” you manage.

“Who fucks you the best, baby?” Seungcheol asks. “Hm? Who does this pussy belong to?”

It’s honestly into cocky territory and you don’t care. Didn’t realize it was this much of a turn on for him to be possessive over you like this. Didn’t realize how much you wanted to be his, even if it’s confined to these four walls.

“I’m waiting,” he says, stilling his fingers inside you.

“It’s yours, Cheol, I’m yours,” you whimper.

His fingers start moving again and he doesn’t answer until you feel his mouth on yours, taste yourself on his tongue. He’s catching every moan with his mouth, pushing you to let go, urging you forward. Part of you wants to pull away, knows that he must feel you clenching around his fingers, but doesn’t move his lips from yours. Catches the screams you want to let loose and guides you as you come around his fingers.

Your breathing is still coming back to normal as you feel Seungcheol untying your wrists, massaging each one as he does so. The last thing he does is remove the scarf covering your eyes and you blink even at the low light in the bedroom. His gaze is soft but confident. He knows how hard he just made you come, yet still wants to make sure you’re okay.

“Can we do that again some time?” you wonder and he chuckles.

“I guess it wasn’t a punishment,” he notes.

“Oh no, I’ve definitely learned my lesson,” you tease and he rolls his eyes but there’s nothing behind it.

“Hm,” is all he says.

He’s sitting up on the bed next to you, one hand lightly stroking his cock. You’re not sure when he took off his clothes but just getting you off clearly turned him on. Without even thinking about it, you’re moving to straddle his thighs. His eyes watch you intently as you spit into your hand and move his aside. Your strokes are slow and he lets his head fall back, eyes closing. It’s not often that he lets you set the pace like this, so you’re going to enjoy it while you can. When you run your thumb over the tip, you watch the way the muscles in his stomach contract. And you know his patience is wearing out.

“Enough,” he says and reaches over to the nightstand for a condom. He’s ripping it open with his teeth and then rolling it on the next second.

Seungcheol reaches out to pull you toward him and you realize he’s not planning on moving. No, he’s planning on you riding him. Which is fine by you since you already went this long without being able to see him. You try to lower yourself down slowly because he’s big and as many times as you’ve fucked him, you’re still never quite ready. But he has other plans and pulls you down in one motion.

“Fuck,” you draw out.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore,” he says in that low voice that shoots straight to your core.

You’re not sure which of you moves first with his hands guiding you as you fuck yourself on him. One of his hands slides up your back and into your hair, pulling it so you arch into him. The new angle has a string of words mixed with moans flying out of your mouth. And it makes it easier for him to pull your nipple between his teeth again. Except this time he doesn’t focus on your nipple. This time he moves to the skin at the side of your breast, sucking hard. Much harder than you sucked earlier. Definitely hard enough to leave a mark. Fucker.

That thought flies out when he snaps his hips into you suddenly, quickening the pace and angling so he’s hitting exactly where you need him too. Each thrust stretches you out and brings you closer to another orgasm. You don’t even register that you’re sensitive from the first. Seungcheol pulls at your hair again and focuses on your exposed neck, a constant contrast of pain and pleasure. He kisses up and down the base before he lands at your pulse point right below your jaw.

“Cheol fuck,” you yell as he sucks another mark into your skin. Another mark reminding you that you’re his.

“Are you close, baby?” he asks when he finishes marking you. “Gonna come for me again?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, I’m so close,” you whine out.

Seungcheol removes his hand from your hair to put both hands on your hips, anchoring you in place while he takes over thrusting into you. You know he must be close too with the way his brow furrows and the way he stutters.

“Fuck baby, come for me, I want to feel you come,” he urges.

It’s all you need and you’re releasing again, a string of fucks leaving your lips as he comes right after you. You try to carefully move through his release before collapsing down on his lap with him still inside you. You lean your head forward onto his shoulder to try and steady your breaths. He kisses lightly along your shoulder, hands trailing absently across your skin.

You like every version of Seungcheol, but you think this version, in the immediate aftermath of fucking him, might be your favorite. The contrast of how soft his touches are does things to your heart that you’re not entirely sure you want to admit. Not to yourself at least.

After another long moment, you gently pull yourself off him and flop back onto your side of the bed. You feel, rather than see, him get off the bed and assume he’s walking off to the bathroom. When he returns with a washcloth a minute later, you’re running your fingers absently along the mark you’re sure he left below your jaw.

“Just in case you forget,” he says before he runs the wet cloth along your skin.

“Forget what?” you question.

“That you’re my girl,” he says. “You can try to be cute and mark my chest or be friends with my members like Jeonghan. But you’re mine.”

“Yes sir,” you say and appreciate the way his eyes darken. Maybe he’s not done with you for the night yet.

thank you for reading, let me know your thoughts <3

#svthub #kvanity #seventeen fic #scoups fanfic #scoups x reader #scoups x you #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines

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oval3000 · 6 months

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Chapter 2

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

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

Jacob slammed one of the medicine drawers close after getting the bottle of pills from a specific patient. "I don't know what miracle came down here, but we haven't had an accident in a month." He said to a fellow nurse standing next to him.

"Don't jinx it," she said grabbing the pill bottle from his hands.

"You know," he stared at your section, watching as you typed what you needed into the computer," ever since she started working here, König hasn't bashed anyone's heads."

"Well it's only been a month since she started working here, I wouldn't be relieved yet." She said, popping two pills into a Dixie cup.

"Yeah well I'm very optimistic about this." He got up and walked away. "Oh if the drawer gets stuck again, just bang on it a few times."

"It would be better if they just get new ones," she sighed, walking away towards her row of patients.

He rolled his eyes, "please they're too stingy to buy new bed sheets."

You have been working here for a month and so far everything was okay. You do what you need to do and things go smoothly.

As for König, he hasn't said or do anything towards you. You honestly felt like they were fooling you by telling you all those stories about his past nurses and guards.

You learned more about the staff names on all floors. König's two guards are named Eli and Gabriel. They both make sure that nothing happens to you aswell as any other staff.

You met Dr. Smith. You first impression of her was a little stiff. Mainly because she was direct and serious. She doesn't really make small talk to any of the nurses only the administrator. She also doesn't really fond of you. Well it's not like she hates you, is more of she critics anything you do. From the way you gather the medical supplies to the way you check patients vitals. During her visit with König, you stay outside the room so you don't know what goes on in there.

You saw when she exited the room alongside Eli and Gabriel, taking König back to his room. You didn't need to look up to know that Dr. Smith was walking towards, her heels made it obvious. "He will no longer take his usual calming medication, he'll take this one." She gave you the doctors order.

"benzodiazepines?" He was fine with his usual one.

She looked at you with her eyebrows forward "Yes. Is there a problem."

"Wouldn't the short term use cause him more problems compared to how he is now. I mean, he's been doing good lately and his oth-'

"Are you a doctor (Y/n)?" She tilted her head as she gives you a serious stern look.

"No."

"Right, I call shots for what is good for my patients. So if I tell you to order his new medicine then you order his new medicine! Is there a problem!?" Her high pitch tone caused the other nurses to look at you.

You look around mentally slapping yourself in the face. Of course she knows more than you, you are just a nurse. "No, Dr. Smith. I'll order them asap."

"Good. Make sure that his primary physician knows about it too and next time you question me, go back to school to get a lab coat. You are a nurse, you do what I say."

She left leaving the echo of her heels scraping the white tile floors. You cursed under your breath while picking up the phone. Calling in orders for prescription is a pain in the ass. Well the hospital it is, you're not familiar with a psychiatric hospital. The last thing you need is to be at hold for three hours trying to get it through.

"We need medical attention at room #526!" You heard Eli. You quickly ran to König's room and saw Gabriel on the floor, holding his mouth as blood was coming out. You turned your head to take a look at König. He was standing there with blood on his nuckles. He's tall, you never got a good look on how tall he was. This man is a mountain an actual mountain.

"What happened?" Jacob entered in seeing the mess.

"I need gauze pads and bandages.' You said holding onto Gabriel. König saw as you attended him. You're his nurse not Gabriel's. You should be attending König not him. The other guards came in to help Gabriel getting up while the others trying to hold König down. Jacob came in with the medical tray. He flicked a needle, trying to get any air bubbles out. You got up as they took Gabriel out, "what are you doing?"

"Everytime he does this, we have to put him down" He made his way towards König while two other guards were trying to hold him down. Compared to the guards themselves they looked like little children against König.

You went in front of Jacob, "You don't have to do that. It will make him think more irrationally. Please he is my patient."

He lowered the needle down giving you a sigh, "Fine. I'll go make a report. But you still can't be here unless two guards are present."

"Okay." The two guards let König's arms go.

Eli and Jacob left to talk to the administrator. You picked up the gauze pads and bandage from the trey.

You haven't made eye contact with König. You've always been too nervous about that, but you had to see him to examine him. You saw him, you saw his face. He had stuble. His features are strong and sharp, his jawline looks like it can cut anybody. He had scars on his face one through his mouth and the other one through his eye. His eyes are blue a nice clear blue, which stood out against his dark under circles. He was probably the most handsome patient you have ever seen. No, not patient, the most handsome men you have ever seen.

You walk towards him, slowly. You looked up to him, your face aligned to his torso . His white t-shirt was snuged and hugged all his curves on his abdomen. You can see the outline of his perfect abs and chest area. His biceps make it look the arm holes of his shirt are going to pop open. His hair was a perfect shade of brown, almost golden. Like before, it wasn't long or short, it was a good length, enough to make a little lazy ponytail.

You stuck out your hand as he placed his on top of yours. Your hand looks barley visible compared to his. You took a peace of gauze and dabbed it on his bloody nuckle. He didn't have any wounds from the punch he gave grabriel. If anything, the blood you are wiping away is Gabriel's.

König stared at you. He saw how concentrated you are with him, how gentle you are with him and how carring you are to him. The fact that you stood up for him from getting sedated, it was a like a call for him that you are his officially.

I mean he did it for you. No one knows the other half the story, they always accuse of the one that looks guilty. When Eli and Gabriel went to take him back to his room, König heard the comments they made about you. All the comments made by Gabriel.

Sure, Gabriel is nice to you, but he looks like a jerk and he is one. He's nice to you, but behind your back he thinks you are an object. Talking about how he wants to take you, not for a date, but for a nice dinner so that he can fuck you later in his car and most likely never talk to you again afterwards...unless he's desperate for sex again

König couldn't let that slide. Talking about you like a sex toy. Talking about you like you don't have emotions. Yes, König has killed men and women that don't really deserve it, but you. Someone that stood up for him. That attends when he needs or wants something. He wanted Jell-O during lunch, but no one was giving him one. Then you came inside the dining room and saw that he didn't have Jell-O like the rest so you gave him one. It's like you read his mind. You don't deserve to be treated this way. It reminds him of himself when he was a kid.

Being bullied for just being nice, for being who he is. He wants to protect you that's all he wanted to do. So he punch Gabriel after hearing his plan to seduce and fuck you then leaving you alone for yourself without a care in the world. He was easy, just one punch and he was down on floor holding his bloody mouth.

You cleaned him up and sat him down on his bed. He wanted to grab your waist and pull you closer to him. To kiss you as a thank you.

He was never lucky with the women, who would be with someone who's a looser. He remembers the time in high-school when girls will ask him out only to laugh at his face when he thought they were serious. Before he left to go to the military he met a girl. The girl just wanted some free drinks so she talked into him for some free stuff. He lost his virginity to her and felt as if he found the one. But to her he was her wallet, a way to get free things and rides for her and her friends. He bought her flowers, teddy bears, chocolates. Took her out to romantic dates that he tried so hard to assemble. Only to walk in on her having sex with another men, in his bedroom on his bed in his place that he pays for. He hoped that she was just drunk or scared..maybe, but no.

"Seriously König, you thought that I cared about you? I mean you are not even good at sex. I was just using you for the free stuff. I just wanted free drinks jeez! It's not my fault you couldn't take a hint."

He saw how they both laughed at his face. How they both just sat there naked, laughing at him as if he was the punchline to a joke.

"Believe me I never wanted this to happen! Especially after getting that dam abortion. But it doesn't matter cause you paid for it."

She wanted money to buy a new dress. She used it to have an abortion. He felt tears running down his face. They didn't feel bad, no, they laughed harder at him at how pathetic he was.

"Why would I even be with a looser."

He remembered how those kids would push him down the slide. How they would rip away his comic books. How they broke everyone one of his toys.

"Looser!"

"Looser!Looser!"

his fist turned white, he felt his fingernails, cutting deep into his palm. The girl he thought was the one was taunting him along his boy toy. He walked up to them. They expected him to bawl like a baby and beg for an apology. Instead, he choked her. His hands gripped tight around her neck. He felt some punches coming from her boy toy, telling König to stop, to let her go.

He saw as the life of her eyes went away. He heard as her neck cracked and dropped her back on the bed. He turned the guy, choking him to death aswell.

He hid the bodies, ran away, joined the military and found a new way to live.

You heard other male voices coming from the elevator and the administrator coming in. "What happened!?"

"He attacked Gabriel." You said to him, you saw what was behind him, other doctors.

"Put him in a straitjacket." He pointed to König

"What no!" You said getting in between him and König.

"Excuse me!?"

"Putting him in a straitjacket isn't going to solve anything."

He crossed his arms while looking down at you "Doing nothing will solve nothing, (Y/n)!"

You turned to König who had a stoic expression "I know, but I'm sure there are oth-"

"What are you again, (Y/n)?" he blurted out.

You knew where this is going. Twice in one day, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "A nurse."

He gave you a small smirk, the same one Dr. Smith gave you. "Exactly. A nurse. I'm your superior, you don't get to tell me what to do. Your job is to take his vitals, and give him medication not to throw orders around! Do I make myself clear!" He stepped closer to you. You wanted to back away, but you felt frozen. He was directly infront of your face. "Now, move aside so we can our jobs!"

You looked down on the floor. You never felt so light headed as you did now. The other voices coming from them were echoes. You felt nausea and sweating. Your heart felt like it was pounding from your chest, but it sounded like a blur. "S-sorry.. sir." You always feel week when people yell at you.

"Next time you do something like that, you're out of here, (Y/n). " He said as you all watched König being put in a straitjacket.

The administrator, Ben, saw König. He was taken back a bit. The look he gave him. As if he was killing him right on the spot. König no longer had the stoic expression, he gave him a death stare.

Who does he think he is to yell at you for being nice to him. To threatened her. They are all the same. Everyone here is all same. The same kids that shoved him around the boys bathroom when he was 10. The same as those girls that laughed at him that laughed at his face.

But instead of him being the victim, is you. You're so weak and innocent, how can someone treat you like that.

But it's okay because you'll have König by his side. He'll make sure to save you.

To care for you.

To love you.

To make you his.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #yandere konig #könig #konig #konig x reader #könig x y/n #yandere könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x you

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13uswntimagines · 4 months

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13 Eras of Us Era 2: It’s The First Kiss, It’s Flawless, Really Something, It’s Fearless (Taylor Swift X Morgan!Reader)

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.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #13 eras of us

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1d5soslittlemixonechicago · 4 months

Text

Protectiveness

Clarisse La Rue x fem!Apollokid!reader

Warning: violence, some blood, protective clarisse

Notes: I have not read the books or anything so please forgive me if this sucks

Request

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

You were in your cabin, getting ready for capture the flag. You hated capture the flag because you weren't that great at fighting, but you have been working with Clarisse on your fighting. You have gotten a little bit better at fighting, but not the best.

You started putting your armor on when you heard a knock, which made you turn around and see Clarisse making you smile. "Hey," you said, making Clarisse smile a little as she walked towards you. "Hey," Clarisse said as she stopped right in front of you. You put your hand on her cheek, pulling her into a kiss. You guys kissed until you were interrupted by one of your siblings.

"Its about to-" your sibling went to say but froze when seeing Clarisse glaring at them for interrupting you guys. You smile out a little, moving your hand to her shoulder."I'll be out in a minute," you said, making your sibling nod before leaving as quick as they came. You look back at Clarisse. "I'll see you after, right?" you asked, making Clarisse nod. You turned around, grabbing your helmet and putting it on.

"You would look so much better in red," Clarisse said with a smirk, making you laugh a little while pecking her lips. "Alright, I'll see you later," you said as you pulled away.

You walked out of your cabin with Clarisse behind you; you went the other way but were stopped by Clarisse grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward. "We have to go," you said with a small smile. "I know; just be careful," Clarisse said with a hint of worry, not wanting you to get hurt.

"I will," you said, giving her one last kiss before finally parting ways. You reach where your siblings are and where Annabeth is standing, telling everyone their role. When you reach them, Annabeth looks at you. "You're with Luke," Annabeth says, making you nod. Annabeth walked away, and you looked toward the opposite team, where you met Clarisse. Her eyes were giving each other nods of good luck, but when Chiron talked, they took the attention off of each other.

After he finished and the horn went off, you followed Luke and some of your siblings with the flag before setting somewhat ahead of the flag.

As you were standing away from the team, you heard a noise, making you turn to see some of the red team come up and say, "There, here!" You yell to Luke, who nods his head. What you didn't notice was someone behind you coming towards you until it was too late. You were rolling down a hill with your helmet coming off. The fall knocked the air out of you as you saw the same person who pushed down the hill, Kyle, the son of Hades, who didn't like you. You didn't know why he didn't like you, but he always went after you. You didn't tell Clarisse for the sake of his life.

You stood up, groaning in pain. You had a small gash on your forehead. You grabbed the sword just as Kyle reached forward to bring his sword down, but you quickly moved out if the way made his sword hit the ground. "What is your problem?" You said getting up, "you," Kyle said as he charged you. "Really, I couldn't tell," you said sarcasm lacing your voice as you blocked his hit. He pulls his sword away, but not before cutting your arm.

You see Luke out the corner of your eye as he creeps behind Kyle, and you nod your head, which made Luke charge forward, putting the sword to Kyle's throat. "Drop it," Luke said, making Kyle grip his sword and raise his sword. "Did you hear him? He said drop it," you said, walking towards him with your sword pointing at him. He rolled his eyes, dropping the sword. Luke pushed him away as he looked at you. “You okay?" Luke asked, pointing to the cut on your head.

"Yeah," you responded, touching your cut and hissing in pain. You took your hand down, noticing blood on your finger, and glanced up at Luke. "Don't tell Clarisse, okay?" you said, and Luke gave you an unsure look. "I'm fine now; go get the flag," you added, making Luke nod and walk away without giving you one more look.

You looked where Kyle was, but he was long gone. "Asshole," you said, bringing your arm up and seeing the cut on it before you started heading back to your cabin to clean up, not caring about capture the flag.

You get to your cabin, and you walk toward your bed, taking off your shirt to see a bruise on your side. "Great," you whispered as you grabbed a rag, getting wet and cleaning your cuts.

~~~

Capture The flag had finished and the red team lost, so Clarisse was mad, so she was looking for you, the only person who could calm her down. So she went to the place you guys normally meet after the game, but you weren't there, which is weird because you were normally the first one there, so she went to your cabin.

She knocked on the door, hearing a silent 'come in' which made her open the door to see you pulling your shirt down, but before you pulled it down, she saw the bruise on your side. "What the hell happened?" Clarisse said angrily as she walked toward you.

You turn around, and Clarisse notices the cut on her forehead. "I'm fine; I just fell," you lied. Clarisse squinted her eyes, knowing you were lying to her. "What happened?" Clarisse said you looked down, knowing you couldn't lie to her anymore. You knew she wouldn't believe you, "Kyle," you whispered.

Clarisse didn't say anything, and walking out of your cabin, "Clarisse," you said, but she ignored you, looking for Kyle. She found Kyle, who was talking to his friend. She grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around and punching him in the face, making him fall to the ground. "What the hell?" Kyle shouted, holding his face.

Clarisse went to lunge at him, but you grabbed her as Luke got in front of her. "Clarisse, stop," Luke said. Clarisse glared at him. "Touch her again, and I'll kill you," Clarisse said before gently grabbing your arm and pulling you guys away. You could tell she was tense.

She didn't say it the whole time. "Clarisse," you said, making her stop. You spun her around, grabbing her face and making her calm down. You pulled her into a kiss. Clarisse put her hand on your waist, kissing you back with a small smile. You guys pulled away when air had become a problem, resting your forehead on her. "I love you," you said, which made Clarisse freeze, pulling away. "You don't have to say it; I just wanted you to know," you said, looking at her.

Clarisse just looked at you, pulling you into another kiss. You know that she loves you; she'll do anything for you. That's what made you fall even more in love with her. She pulled away. "I love you too," Clarisse said, making you smile. Hearing those words come out of your mouth, you pull her into a hug. "If he ever touches you again, I'll kill you." Clarisse said, making you laugh. Knowing she was not lying, you pulled away. "I know." You said you were smiling at her as she pulled you into one more kiss.

#clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #pjo x reader #pjo series #pjo #dior goodjohn

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narumi-gens · 10 months

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firefighter!yuuji shows up late to nobara’s Halloween party. but since he just got off work, he doesn’t have time to change into a costume and just comes in his uniform. but not his full-on “runs into burning buildings carrying his weight in equipment” uniform. he comes in his daily uniform — a bright blue button-down tucked into unflattering, matching blue pants. the outfit looks more like a jumpsuit than anything else and it’s topped off with his baseball hat that proudly reads, “TOKYO FIRE DEPARTMENT.”

it’s your first time meeting him and you make a joke about whether the equipment was too expensive to rent out and he laughs and tells you he never could have gotten away with sneaking it out of the station undetected. he gives you his name with the widest smile and you give him yours.

you share drinks. you share laughs. and by the end of the night, you’ve also shared numbers. he unfortunately has to leave early, telling you that he’s covering a shift the next day, which makes you giggle because he’s still keeping the joke going.

the butterflies in your stomach are still fluttering throughout the next day. at least until you’re cooking dinner and the pan gets too hot and starts to smoke. you quickly take it off the fire and then off the stove but despite the situation being taken care of before an actual fire could start, it still sets off the smoke detector in your kitchen.

you panic and try to fan the smoke out of the kitchen as best you can. but when that doesn’t work, you open the door to your apartment hoping that will help the smoke disperse. what you haven’t accounted for is the smoke setting off the alarm in the hallway, which then sets them off throughout the rest of the building.

you can only bow repeatedly and apologetically to your landlady as she scolds you, surrounded by your neighbors who are forced to wait in the cold outside after having to evacuate. thankfully the screech of the fire truck’s siren drown her out as it appears along with Tokyo’s finest.

your landlady immediately begins to wave at them, grabbing their attention only so that she can point at you furiously. you feel like you might die of embarrassment on the spot and bury your head in your hands. the truck’s sirens cut out and your landlady starts to shout about the problem starting in your unit.

“I’m so sorry…” you mumble into your hands as you give another deep bow when you hear one of the firefighters approach and come to a stop. “I accidentally set off the alarm while cooking…”

“So, I should be the one to cook for you on our date.”

your head shoots up and your jaw drops when you see yuuji standing in front of you in his “runs into burning buildings carrying his weight in equipment” uniform, a good natured smile on his handsome face.

“I thought it was a costume!” you blurt out before quickly slapping your hands over your mouth as if that will shove the words back in.

yuuji throws his head back and laughs, the sound making you feel warm with something other than embarrassment. his eyes sparkle with mischief as he takes his helmet off, only to surprise you by placing it right on top of your head.

your hand unconsciously comes up to steady it, trying to keep its massive weight and size from sliding forward so that you can continue to look up at him with wide eyes.

“it’s a much cuter costume on you than on me,” he grins, and you’re overcome with the sudden urge to bury your face in your hands once again, if only so he doesn’t see how flustered he’s made you.

#🚂👩🏻‍✈️ this is me on the best boy train #i am constantly pushing my firefighter!yuuji agenda #itadori yuuji fluff #itadori yuuji imagines #itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji drabble #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk #mel writes #best boy

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luveline · 7 months

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halloweekend is starting early here and i’m dressed as a slutty nun, has me thinking what would hotch think seeing you in a sexy (perhaps taboo) halloween costume?? maybe he had to work late so he came to the halloween party straight from the office so you met there, and he’s holding himself back bc you look sooooo good….

cw suggestive mdni

Hotch grew up in a time full to bursting with slut-shaming and self-expression alike. Women wore tiny dresses as they wear now, and he never thought himself a sexist —he never had a problem with a slip of skin.

But this is… Well, he's ashamed of himself for wanting to wrap you up in his suit jacket and ferry you home.

"Handsome!" you yell, jumping off of the garden seat you'd been sitting in with a drink slipping down your fingers. "You actually came! You're here!"

He's thinking and thank God I did, because he trusts you, and he doesn't think for a second you'd entertain other people, but he can't imagine missing out on this. This is a lot.

"You're drinking?" he asks, not scornful, just surprised.

"I didn't know you were coming and I'm bored out of my mind! But this is my first, sweetheart." You offer it to him. "So no, I wouldn't say I'm drinking."

He takes your drink, his head racing with thoughts of your naked arms and legs, your sheer white babydoll dress. "Is this lingerie?"

"It's my costume," you whine gently. "Why do people keep asking me that?"

Hotch slides his empty hand down the length of your side, the tulle of your baby doll soft as down on his palm. "And you're a… angel?"

"Duh. You can't see my halo, but it's there."

Your waist in his hand, the warmth of your skin seeping slow in his, Hotch can almost ignore the surrounding party goers and all their noise, until a friend comes forward demanding an introduction, and another. We've been waiting to meet her oh-so-intimidating beau. Hotch suffers it with his hand behind your shoulders, but eventually it's too much, his hand is sliding under your babydoll's fabric to grab at the small of your back indulgently. His pinky finger flirts with the band of your 'shorts'.

"What are you doing?" you whisper through a laugh.

"I'm embarrassed. I'm not even in costume."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we should just go home."

Your laughter is a shriek as he pulls you into his side. He's kidding, he'll stay at your party tonight for as long as you want to stay like a fish out of water, but he can't be expected to not flirt with you.

"You're getting antsy, Hotchner," you say, like it's the best thing a man can be.

"This is ridiculous."

"I picked it out with you in mind." You lift your chin, words spoken warmly into the shell of his ear. "It might look like underwear to you, but there's something underneath it that says otherwise. So play nice and I'll give you a behind the scenes of how I chose my costume."

"I'm always nice," he says.

"No," you say, your smile mock-demure, your hand on his abdomen, just a little too low, "you're not. That's why…" You turn on the spot to your bag resting on the table and pull out a pair of red-horns on a headband. "I got you these. But once you put them on you have to keep them on."

"Is that the rule for this?" he asks, tugging on your babydoll.

You only hum. Hotch loses his mind one song at a time until you let him take you home, devil horns intact.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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