#well i may have watched a few times more than necessary
Note
hi :D if you do character x character (with possibly x reader, too) headcanons, may i request nikprice hcs? aghh.. i love them so much, but there's (in my opinion) little content of them compared to other ships.. if you do have to add reader into it too thats okay :) i don't mind poly (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
but besides that how are you doing? i hope youre doing good :]
Hey there! I'm doing well, thank you! I've actually got five days off next week, which I'm really looking forward to! Plus I get to go to my regular department again too soon enough! But unfortunately, the other apprentice left me with so much work ^^;
NikPrice and NikPrice x Reader
NikPrice:
Although the two of them may be a bit older than some of their peers, they can still be considered idiots, especially when they’re with one another. Sometimes they get weirdly competitive with each other, which can result in either of them getting hurt. Nikolai leads Chimera and Price leads the TF141, both of them sometimes need to show off just how good they are at some things. Nikolai is usually a pretty calm guy, but he does get a bit cocky with Price, so he’ll instigate some competitions. Who can carry the most groceries. Who can find the most dogs and take pictures with them. Who will be favored the most for the week among their boys. It’s just dumb things, and Nikolai does try to cheat his way through most of them, but Price knows him well enough by now to know how he will try to weasel his way into victory. Price usually plays fair and forces Nikolai to do the same. The winner gets bragging rights and that’s about it. Sometimes they poker on who pays for dinner, but they don’t really mess around too much when it comes to more serious stuff. However, they both also compete with each other to show off just how good of a partner they are, even if there’s no need to do that anymore. They can both be proud as peacocks and always need to outdo one another.
Although it may sound stupid, the two of them do spar with each other from time to time. Since they’re about equal in strength it’s actually quite interesting to watch the two of them fight, both have a pretty good technique as well. However, Nikolai has more experience under his belt since he’s quite a bit older than Price. Again, he’s also not above cheating by trying to entice Price with just about anything he can think of. They’re adults, they’re leaders, but they are still morons with each other. Sometimes they fight over the TV remote when Price wants to watch his football game and Nikolai wants to tease him. Price gets mad every time he misses the football game just because he lost to his stupid lover. Nikolai gets a good laugh out of it every time. Although he may love Price more than anyone else, he can be a playful and cocky bastard at times. He makes up for it by taking Price to a real football game in a stadium, though. Can’t enrage the boyfriend too much all the time. Price is usually overjoyed when he does since he gets really into it. There’s nothing better than enjoying some football with Nikolai. Unless Nikolai teases Price about his team losing. In that case the two of them won’t be talking more than necessary for an hour. However, Price goes back to normal after the initial anger of his team losing has worn off.
Nikolai is actually a chef of the master class. He can cook just about anything and make it well at that too. Since he’s been pretty much everywhere at this point he’s learned quite a few recipes from all around the world. He also knows how to use his spices well. Though, his favorite recipes to make are still Russian ones. The two of them cook together often, it relaxes them. Besides, Price gets the privilege of eating Nikolai’s pirozhki before anyone else does. It’s an honor to him since he’s never had anything better in his life. Loves being Nikolai’s taste tester as well. Price isn’t as good a cook as Nikolai, but he does like showing his appreciation for all the good food by cooking something in return. However, his food is kind of bland. It could be worse, but it could also use a lot more spices. Nikolai used to tease Price about that before, but he’s stopped since as Price really does put a lot of effort into cooking for Nikolai. The latter really isn’t so mean to genuinely hurt his boyfriend like that. He does give Price some constructive criticism, though. Offers to help with cooking next time, but both of them know that Nikolai will just take the lead. But in the end, they both really do enjoy cooking with each other, regardless of who makes the main dish. They also get really chatty during it.
NikPrice x Reader
Considering how long they’ve been with each other, they've gotten used to it, but you genuinely cannot cuddle them during summer. You’ll become a sweaty mess and won’t be able to sleep at all since they’re both very warm. Nikolai more so than Price. However, the two of them can cuddle each other just fine since they’re used to warmer nights because of all the missions they’ve gone on. However, it’s pretty nice in winter. They’re two big, burly and warm men who love to make you feel toasty. Price is actually a pretty cuddly guy and Nikolai can be too with the right people. If you’re not on the cuddly side then they’ll settle for giving you a pat on the back every once in a while or just holding your hand. But Price loves touching you and Nikolai. He doesn’t need to do it every single waking moment, but it’s nice to hold your loved ones. Nikolai can go either way, but he’s pretty cuddly with Price. Sometimes the two of them fight over who gets to be the big spoon, other times they’ll just plop into each other’s arms. If you’re shorter than them then you’ll likely get sandwiched between them. If you’re as tall or taller than them then they might ask you to take on the role of big spoon. Sure, they won’t mind it when you’re shorter than them, but they’ll chuckle since you’re just a little backpack.
Both of them will try to teach you how to fight and defend yourself. Even if you’re capable of that already, they’ll teach you something anyway. They’re both military men, they know what they’re talking about. Besides, it’s not as unlikely as one might think that you might get hurt because of them. You need to be able to defend yourself. They’ll take turns teaching you, improving your form and all. They’ll sometimes even deliberately spar in front of you so you could learn something from them fighting with each other. They won’t be as rough with you as they are with each other, especially not if you’re not part of the military, but they’ll be diligent in teaching you either way. If you’re part of the military then they’ll be rougher with you, but not as rough as with each other. Nikolai and Price have known each other for so long, they know where each other’s limits are. You’re the newest addition, so there’s still things they need to get to know. But I can assure you they will take good care of you. They’ll also reward you if you’re doing especially well during your little training lessons. Nikolai tries to bribe you into doing well by offering to cook your favorite meal if you do so.
The two of them actually spoil you rotten, especially if you don’t earn as much money as they do. Nikolai earns even more money than Price, so he has quite a lot to spend. Loves buying you and him all kinds of things. These can range from something useful to just something he saw and thought you might like. Price doesn’t like being indebted to people, so he always tries to buy Nikolai something back, even insisting that he shouldn’t buy him as many things. Nikolai never listens to him in that regard. And since Price buys Nikolai things he has to buy something for you as well. Sometimes it’s just your favorite kind of cake, sometimes it’s some nice and expensive jewelry. It’s always a mystery with Price. You don’t have to feel obligated to buy them something either. You’re more than welcome to if you have the finances to do so, but if you usually barely get by then you really shouldn’t have to. In fact, if you don’t have a lot of money then the two of them will pay for just about anything you need. Clothes, food, other necessities. It doesn’t matter. Together they have more money than they know what to do with anyway. It’s nice to spend it on someone you love and make them happy anyway. Don’t pay them back, they’ll find your bank account and return the money. They love you, let them pamper you like the little royalty you are.
#cod#cod x reader#cod nikolai#john price#nikolai x reader#john price x reader#price x reader#nikprice#nikprice x reader#I never really thought about writing charxchar on this blog in all honesty#but I suppose I can do it if more requests like this come in :] I doubt it but I'm willing to do it#I loved working on this because they may be smart but they're also complete and utter dumbasses#they're smart when it counts let's leave it at that#I actually have thought about being in a relationship with NikPrice before but I sometimes throw Graves into the mix as well#there's nothing wrong about yearning to be in a relationship with some men who could buy you something nice#and who would actually love you#see fictional characters are actually really good because they will always love you if you want them to#ugh I wanna cuddle these idiots so bad which is funny because I'm actually touch averse 95% of the time#but I just know that a good thorough cuddle session from those men would put me in a really good mood
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As a french student I know more about the American war for independence from watching Hamilton than I do about any part of french history after 6 years of studying it for 3 hours a week.
#well i may have watched a few times more than necessary#oh well#hamilton#alexander hamilton#lin manuel miranda#daveed diggs#leslie odom jr#Philippa soo#renee elise goldsberry#jonathan groff
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✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿
NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI
Rating: Explicit
Wordcount: 2.6k
Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns.
Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV
⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆
Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.
Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3
───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────
Oh, to be Alone with You
Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.
Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.
Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well- rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.
At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.
Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by too many walls and a too-small bed frame.
Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.
He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-
No.
Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.
No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:
More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.
Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.
He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:
He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.
And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.
All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.
The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.
Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.
A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.
He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.
Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.
Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.
Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.
The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.
If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.
Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…
She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.
“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”
“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.
She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.
Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.
He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.
Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.
“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.
“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”
“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”
Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.
A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.
Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.
“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”
Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.
She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.
“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”
She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.
“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”
Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.
“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”
The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.
“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”
With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.
“Halsin, I-”
His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.
I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -
@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba
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#bg3#halsin#halsin x reader#in some capacity i suppose#baldur's gate#baldurs gate 3#halsin bg3#nsft#halsin x f!reader#gala writes
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Dead on Main part 8
Formatting on my phone is weird 🥲
Masterpost
Jason gets up quickly. He may not have his muscle memory in this body, but he still knows how to fight. Has known all his life. He can adapt to this body’s size and strength if he needs to.
He gets ready to defend himself, searching the alley for what hit him and seeing a… glowing figure approaching him. It looked like a vampire. This town is weird, what the fuck.
“What the fuck?” Jason spits out.
“Really, Daniel. Is that language really necessary?” The vampire asks as he floats towards him.
“Plasmius, leave him alone.” Jazz runs in and plants herself in front of Danny. “Please, can you not do this right now? We're already in the middle of a situation.”
“Well, this all could have been avoided if you had agreed to speak with me earlier.” Plasmius lifts his arm and a shot of what seems like pink energy shoots towards them, he both dive to the side.
Jason, body pumping with adrenaline, rolls and pops back up. And realizes he rolled through the alley wall. His body was glowing green, his feet were floating off of the ground, and he backs his way slowly out of the store he landed in and back out into the alley. He walks through the wall again.
Okay. He wasn't expecting to deal with a weird amount of meta powers today, but he can do this. The surge of power feels almost like the pit madness. Nicer, and more controlled. It's focused somehow, and he knew how to channel his pit rage at it's most uncontrollable. This power wants to be used.
Jason looks over in time to dodge another pink blast. Plaamius stalks toward him, and Jason lifts his fist to fight, feels power surge in them, his hand glow brighter, and when he releases the pent up surge green energy shoots at Plasmius the same way the pink was shit at him.
Alright, floating, glowing, walking through walls, and energy blast things. This is fine.
Plasmius and Jason trade blasts for a few minutes, squaring off in the alley. The blasts leave slight burn marks behind where the hit the surrounding area. Jason is careful to keep the shooting away from Jazz, but she isnt leaving.
She was digging around in her bag, but know she's flanking Plasmius. Like he can sense her, Plasmius goes to attack Jazz. Everything in Danny’s body reacts to that.
Jason flings himself in front of the shit, taking the hit in the chest, but manages to punch Plasmius away from Jazz.
Jason doubles over at the hit, feet hitting the ground for the first time since he went through the wall. That felt different than anything he'd ever felt. It burned where it hit him, but he felt it resonate through his whole body. He wants to help but he’s still realing from the hit.
He sees Jazz facing off with Plasmius and he tries to get up and help, he feels that same response from earlier, everything in Danny reacting to Jazz in danger, but he can't get up and something inside of him aches at that. At having to stay back and watch as Jazz enters the line of fire.
Jazz was holding something behind her back, but she brings it forward. Plaamius turns, it seems like he's trying to run, but whatever she's holding sucks Plasmius into it.
She keeps it pointed away from Jason as she pulls her arms back in and closes the lid.
“Is that a thermos?” Jason asks.
“Yeah.”
Jason nods slowly, taking stock of himself again now that the fight seems to be over. “Right. How do I stop doing… this?” He gestures to all of Danny, still glowing and green.
Jazz winces.
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luxiem’s reaction to you falling asleep on stream
req . luxiem x gn!reader .
fluff . 1k est wc .
(f/n - fandom name) ty for the cute req ^^ not proofread + lmk if there’s warnings i missedd
“lemme just read a few more supas before i end, chat..”
despite your determined words, even the viewers notice your model’s eyes drooping ever so sleepily while you talk. many express their concern and wishes for you to continue tomorrow, while others spam ‘tskr’ and remarks on how endearing the situation was.
“‘go sleep’? nah, you don’t—“ you’re cut off by a yawn, speech turning slower involuntarily, “you don’t have to worry, i’m.. i’m okay guys.”
coincidentally, right as you try to read the next donation, you close your eyes, attempting to give yourself just a second of rest, only to slip right into dreamland. of course, your chat explodes simultaneously; a majority being exclaims of what would happen next while others debate on if something else might’ve occurred. luckily for you, your boyfriend — who just so happens to be experienced in your field of work — is on the bed a few feet over, ready to help out.
mysta rias
mysta is much more observant than some may think (especially when it comes to you) and easily caught onto your state long before chat did
he shook his head from the bed, knowing exactly how you were feeling whilst you pushed yourself to continue thanking donations
it hurt him watching you in such a state, especially knowing he couldn’t do much
but now that you’ve drifted off, he’s quick to tiptoe over and take control of your model
he doesn’t even say hi, only muttering a ‘give me a minute, guys’ before grabbing your underarms and carrying you off to bed
once you’re neatly tucked in, he plants a quick kiss to your forehead before rushing back to finish up the stream
“sorry about that, yes it’s mysta! hope you guys dont mind me taking over for a bit.. wait, why’s everyone saying clip this?!”
mysta isn’t big about sharing much when it comes to your relationship, but he’ll be sure to let your fanbase what’s going on if you (clearly) can’t admit it yourself
“yep.. they say don’t worry, but then shit like this happens. fuckin’ stubborn, aren’t they?” he huffs, glancing over at your sleeping figure with fond but frustrated eyes
“good thing i was here. don’t worry, f/n.. i know you’re jealous and all, but they’re in good hands. if y’know what i mean,” the male cackles before remembering how close you are, sighing when he ensures you’re still asleep
mysta being mysta, he ends up talking to chat for a bit longer than necessary, mostly rambling about you of course
and before he ends stream, the idiot probably comments some suggestive shit that only makes the amount of clips from your stream double (sigh)
however, while he fools around for the viewers, don’t expect to be off the hook without a serious talk in the morning, along with a staff meeting that mysta will personally organize that same night
also,, be prepared for him to never live this down </3
ike eveland
the amount of times he had to stop himself from rushing over and just pulling you to bed throughout the stream..
he even tried (spamming) texting you, yet you’d simply send a stern shake of your head from the desk
so of course, once you closed your eyes for good, ike was already planning out the speech he was going to give you later on
your boyfriend can’t help but mumble about how ‘he knew this would happen’ as he paces closer, muting your mic before carrying you bridal style to bed
as romantic as it sounds, this boy was deadpanning stubbornly the whole time
“well, hello there f/n, ike here! like i’m sure most of you figured out, y/n fell asleep. the remainder of supas will continue next stream, but i hope you guys take this as a lesson that having designated time for rest is just as important—“
yes, even your chat gets an ike lecture
soon after, he’s shutting your pc down while glancing at you with an unreadable gaze
poor boy isn’t sure if he wants to scold you or hug you first
in the end he complies with hugging you all night
even after he wakes up he’ll bring his laptop in bed just so he can be near you while still working
“ah, look who’s awake,” brushing some hair from your face, he chuckles as you stretch cutely. “did you sleep well?”
“mm.. wait, what happened to my stream?”
at this, ike deadpans once again, pushing his laptop away — and that’s when you know you’re in trouble <\3
shu yamino
he knows how headstrong you can be, so he rarely tries to get you to change your mind on things like this, even when watching you doze off on live eats away at his heart
the only time he’d given his opinion was a few hours before stream, where you showed visible signs of over working
“babe?” he swallowed in discontent, inspecting your messy state from the kitchen. “i think you should cancel stream today, we can start a new anime n’ head to bed early tonight instead.”
it was a tempting offer, but the looming thought of potentially letting fans down made you swiftly decline, earning a defeated sound from the male
now here he was, rushing over to mute your mic and gently pat you awake
“y/n— y/n, you fell asleep on stream.”
that has your eyes shooting open, and the redness in them has guilt building further in shu’s chest
he feels like a bad boyfriend, like he should’ve been more assertive in taking care of you, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened
but those thoughts were for another day; right now you needed him more than ever
in an attempt to calm you down as you blabbered in confusion, he squeezes your hand in his
“shh, baby,” shu rarely used such petnames, but it immediately has you settling down. “you’re okay. it’s okay, f/n are still here waiting for you, see?”
he continues to kneel by your setup, rubbing your knuckles comfortingly as you build up the strength to unmute and explain the situation
“i don’t even know what happened, i hope everyone who donated doesn’t mind if i finish reading them next stream?” as you speak, shu nods supportively
if for some reason anybody were to get upset about this, he’d gladly argue with them himself
as soon as you hit ‘end stream’, he rises from the floor, holding your hand while walking to bed and murming affirmations softly
he smiles as you fall back to asleep almost instantly, messaging your manager himself to clear your schedule <3
vox akuma
honestly, he’d never let it come to this in the first place
“love, you’ve been slugging around all day. there’s no way you have the energy for a stream.”
in the end, you make a compromise to stream for much less time than you originally planned.. yet still fell asleep
vox hadn’t even realized at first; so busy completing work of his own until the silence finally registered
he would be mad and scold you like ike.. but you just look so cute napping away at your desk!!!
without bothering to mute, mans just admires you for a second with a tiny smirk
even in this state you were stunning to him,, not his fault
eventually lifts you like a sack over his shoulder (if you weren’t so tired he’d slap your ass by now. sigh) before settling you in bed
at that point he was desperate to just cuddle up with you, but of course the live was still ongoing
“why hello, f/n, there’s been a bit of.. em, a turn of events as you can see.. my idiot partner refuses to give themself a break so now you get me!”
vox chuckles lowly while reading the chaos and confusion in chat, sparking a new onset of comments. “guys, i can guarantee your oshi is not dead, c’mon, have some faith in me.”
like mysta, he doesn’t want to let the viewers in on too much, but he definitely hovers around the topic of overworking and breaks
“—after all, they’ve given up hours upon hours to plan more streams and events for you to enjoy, so now, i’d like everyone to be equally supportive and let them have a week or so off, hm? we don’t want this happening again, right?”
it’s a bit passive-aggressive, protective boyfriend tone honestly,, he can’t help it okay!
the minute it’s over vox is rushing back into bed, taking on the role of big spoon instinctively at your exhausted state
in the morning, he’s eager as ever to help you send a break request to the company <3
luca kaneshiro
now this one can be a bit,,
oblivious
he could tell you were tired, yes — but had no inkling it was to such a degree where you’d fall asleep in front of thousands of viewers
it definitely makes him think back to how your energy had been much lower than usual for a while now
he feels guilt bubbling in his stomach, but pushes it away as he swiftly moves in front of your mic
“chat! psst, it’s— it’s luca! y/n fell asleep, should i scare them!?” he whispers, barely holding in a mischievous giggle, “kidding, kidding. they deserve to sleep, like, really. i’ll keep you guys company for now alright?“
being the entertainer he is, luca easily finished up stream with his ‘impromptu asmr’, all while keeping one hand on your knee affectionately
“alright f/n, i think it’s time i uh, get y/n to bed, but thank you to those who stuck around! i’ll make sure they get lots of rest, pinky promise!”
it was going smoothly until he clumsily tried to lift you from the chair, awkwardly placing one hand on your behind and the other around your torso
“luca? the fuck are you doing?” you blink, only registering your boyfriend’s interesting hand placement as you wake up
his eyes widen, quickly letting you down with flushed cheeks. “what— i— i was just bringing you to bed! you fell asleep!”
“oh.. wait, on stream?!”
the boy quickly assures you (through lots of laughter) that he had it under control, and luckily for him you were too tired to fight back, only humming as he slides into bed as well
“i pinky promise’d your chat, babe. i promised that i’d make sure you rest, so no streaming for the next couple days, ‘kay?”
he gets snoring in response, which in his mind is good enough!
you wake up to a message from your manager wishing you a nice week off.. and the culprit only smiles adorably <3
if u want me to write more make sure to reblog/send asks and tell me if u enjoyed !!!!!
nkox 2023 - do not copy, translate, crosspost, etc.
#nkox¿#nkox reqs#luxiem x reader#nijisanji x reader#ike eveland x reader#luca kaneshiro x reader#mysta rias x reader#nijisanji#vox akuma x reader#vtuber x reader#nijisanji fics#nijisanji fluff#luxiem imagines#luxiem fluff#nijisanji imagines#luxiem#vox x reader#mysta x reader#shu x reader#shu yamino x reader#shu yamino#ike eveland#vox akuma#mysta rias#luca kaneshiro#luxiem fics#luxiem scenarios#luxiem reactions#nijisanji fanfics
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simon says
🗯 pairing: captain john price x fem!reader | simon ghost riley x fem!reader
🗯 tags: nsfw - mdni, cucking, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected pinv, established relationship, praise, ooc as fuck i'm sure
a/n: this one was incredibly self indulgent, so i got a little carried away with it. i fully intend to do a pt. 2 if you all want that!
You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in: your husband of several years just confessed to you he had always had a fantasy of watching you with another man. You expressed that you weren’t opposed to the idea; as long as it was something he truly wanted then you’d do your best to please him.
When he threw out some names of people you may be interested in he never expected to see a spark of desire in your eyes as he mentioned his former boss.
“Oh really?” Ghost asked with a raise of his eyebrow, his tone laced with amusement.
“Y-yeah,” you said shyly, not wanting to go into detail about how attractive you found Captain Price.
The older man led Simon in a specialized task force for a few years, both having since moved on to different military ventures and then retirement.
Price had always caught your eye at any get-together he and the rest of Ghost’s former team would attend, and you had never imagined revealing this attraction to your husband. Until now.
Any time he would tower over you while making small talk, cerulean eyes subtly trailing down to your lips and chest before meeting your gaze you had to fight to keep your face from flushing.
Your dreams the nights after these gatherings would be filled with visions of the Captain buried between your legs, his facial hair prickling your skin as he worked you with his mouth until your legs were trembling.
Ghost cleared his throat, sensing you were deep in thought. “I’ll text him now?”
Once you gave him the go ahead he reached for his phone. His fingers trembled slightly as he tapped out a message, inviting Price over Friday evening for some ‘fun’.
He tossed his phone down and leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to enjoy watching you with him.”
“I hope so, Simon, because I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” you responded, pulling back to look at him. You wanted him to know even though you were indulging him in this fantasy, you would never imagine being unfaithful to him without his knowledge and without him being involved.
Ghost met your gaze, his eyes filled with appreciation and desire for you. “I know, love.”
You left it at that, both carrying on with the rest of your week without mentioning it again until shortly before Price’s arrival.
“You’re still okay with this, yeah?” Ghost wrapped his arms around you from behind as you did your makeup in the mirror.
“More than okay,” you reassured him as he tugged at your earlobe with his teeth.
“Easy now,” he chuckled, a hint of warning in his tone.
That was the best thing about this arrangement. You had always been attracted to Price and were eager to explore that, but you were most looking forward to what came after.
You knew that once he watched Price fuck you, Ghost would be ravenous. You had a long night ahead of him proving to you that while he may allow another man to touch you, they’d never be able to touch you better than he could.
“I don’t know what to wear.” Your face grew hot as you began wondering what Price would think when he saw you again.
“Anything,” Ghost replied firmly. “You look great in anything.”
“Well I have that dress from-,” you paused when he began shaking his head.
“That won’t be necessary,” he murmured against your neck, trailing soft kisses down it as his hands settled on your stomach. “You’ll be waiting for us in the bedroom, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you whispered, realization dawning on you that he was suggesting you wear lingerie.
"Hmmm. Price seems like the type to enjoy white." You thought out loud, a lace baby doll you had in your dresser coming to mind. "Something about corrupting a good girl."
“S’that what you are?” Ghost smirked while making eye contact with you in the mirror.
You laughed away his teasing, knowing he was only attempting to get you riled up. “Oh, please. If anyone’s corrupted me it’s you, but let me have my fun.”
"That's perfect," he agreed, his eyes roaming over the reflection of your body, envisioning the delicate white lace. "He's going to love seeing you like that." He leaned in close and whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky, “And so will I.”
His stiffening cock was now pressing firmly into the small of your back and you grinned at him in the mirror. “I can see you’re very excited about this.”
Ghost's eyes darted downward before meeting yours again, a mix of embarrassment and desire flushing his cheeks. "Not every day my wife offers up herself and her body for another man," he confessed with a shrug that did little to hide his arousal.
“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” You squeezed his hands reassuringly. “It’s hot you’re so into this.”
"Thank you," Ghost whispered as he wrapped his arms around you tighter. "I just want to make sure everything is perfect for Price tonight. He deserves it."
“Yeah? Deserves to fuck your wife?” You teased, knowing it would only make the hardness poking into your back ache even more.
Ghost chuckled darkly at your words. "Yeah, he does," he growled while pressing his hips forward slightly into you with a noticeable amount of possession in his movement. "And I plan to enjoy every filthy second of it."
You spun around to face him, and he immediately stepped forward, pushing you into the edge of the vanity. Ghost groaned as he felt your hands slip beneath his shirt to stroke his stomach, a thick layer of fat having formed over his abs since retirement that drove you crazy in all the right ways.
"Don't tease me like that," he warned when your fingers moved higher up his chest.
"Fine,” you conceded with a soft sigh, sliding out from under his shirt. “I’ll keep my hands to myself until he arrives.”
"That’s a good girl," he praised, loving how aroused you were getting. He pulled back slightly but kept his hands on your waist. "Now, why don't you get dressed and wait for us on the bed, hmm?”
As you moved to put on the white lace number and matching silk thong you knew both men would adore you in, Ghost left for the living room, leaving your bedroom door slightly ajar. You bit down on your lip nervously when you heard the doorbell buzz not even a few minutes later.
Ghost’s heart raced with anticipation as he approached the front door and saw Price’s silhouette against the dim street light shining through the glass. He knew you were waiting for them in the bedroom, dressed in the lingerie that he had helped pick out and he had to make an effort to appear nonchalant as he opened the door for Price.
You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart rate quickening as you heard the Captain’s commanding voice fill your home. Their conversation was muffled, but the distinct sound of ice and alcohol being poured made you smirk to yourself.
The pair catching up over a drink like former colleagues while you were waiting in the bedroom like a piece of meat to be devoured only added to your arousal, the wetness gathering between your legs becoming more prominent the longer they left you alone. Ghost seemed to be carrying most of the conversation for once, probably out of sheer excitement.
Price appeared to be enjoying himself as well, laughing at something Ghost said before they made their way to the bedroom together.
As they entered the room your eyes darted between your husband and his friend, unsure who to look at. The click of the door closing echoed through your mind as you pictured what was about to happen.
Ghost took a step towards you, his eyes fixed on your body as he admired the sexy lingerie that clung to your curves. He couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness as he turned to look at Price, who was now standing close behind him.
He swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam's apple betraying his nervousness, before stepping to the side and sitting in the armchair at the corner of your room.
Price looked you up and down slowly, taking in every inch of your exposed body. His eyes lingered on your full breasts before traveling back up to meet yours.
"You look bloody incredible, Mrs. Riley," he smirked, knowing it would drive Ghost mad to hear you being referred to with his last name. You were his after all and Price would do well to remember that. You glanced at Simon briefly, surprised to see his face beaming with pride rather than annoyance as he watched Price approach you.
“Thank you, John,” you blushed, having to crane your neck to look at him the closer he got to the bed. The lamp in the corner illuminated his face as he stood before you and you noticed even more gray hair dusting his temples and beard than the last time you saw him.
He wasted no time before kneeling down, his calloused hands running up and down your thighs lightly before stopping at your knees. You were sure your face was completely bright red now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“Oh, sweet thing,” Price let out a breath as he spread your legs. “You’re soaked already.”
He placed a kiss to your core through your panties, holding eye contact with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Ghost sat up a little straighter in his seat at the sight.
The silk fabric clung to your folds now, saturated with your arousal. You felt yourself throbbing now, cunt desperate for attention. Many nights you had dreamed of being in this exact position, his handsome face staring up at you from between your legs.
Disappointment must have been evident on your face as Price pulled back and shifted on his feet, moving to lean over you. Your pouting drew a raspy chuckle out of your husband.
“Needy girl you have, Simon,” Price observed with a small smile, turning to look at him. He gave a single nod in response, eager for Price to continue.
With gentle hands he brushed your hair behind your shoulders as his gaze roamed your chest, his hum of satisfaction reverberating through the room. He unfastened the clasp on the front of the baby doll, letting it fall off of you and onto the bed.
Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit your skin. Price’s hands found their way to your breasts immediately, beginning to roll his thumbs over your nipples in tight circles. He studied your face closely as it contorted in pleasure, admired the way your breath caught in your throat audibly at the sensation.
“You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you,” Price whispered into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps on your skin. His lips brushed against your earlobe and your eyes widened, finding Ghost’s. He watched you with a hunger and possessiveness you had never seen from him before, clearly having heard what the other man said to you.
You gasped in surprise when Price’s lips latched onto your nipple, too distracted by Simon to realize he had wandered lower once more. You moaned softly as his tongue circled the hardened bud, back arching as he squeezed your other breast roughly.
Ghost watched attentively from his corner seat, a mix of arousal and pride coursing through him. He could tell by the way that you were responding that Price was taking good care of you, making sure you were enjoying every moment.
Price’s mouth left your tit and he captured your lips in a kiss. It felt strange at first but you softened, losing yourself to the feeling of him. The kiss deepend as Price’s tongue slid past your lips, tasting you for the first time. His hands wandered down your body, teasingly grazing the hem of your panties before finally slipping beneath to run along your slick folds.
“All this for me, hm?” Price murmured against your lips.
“Y-yes,” you stuttered. A half truth. It was for him, yes. But it was just as much for Simon, who was now palming himself through his jeans.
Seeing how excited you were already, he didn’t hesitate to part your folds, circling your entrance once before pumping two fingers inside of you. You let out an exasperated gasp and squirmed as he did.
“Oh, c’mon, angel. I know you can take it.” He winked at you before continuing. “This is nothing compared to your husband’s cock,” he said playfully before curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting faster now.
"That's a good girl," he praised you as he felt your relax around his fingers, rewarding you by pressing circles into your swollen clit in a steady rhythm with his thumb.
Ghost could tell by the sounds you were making that you were getting close already, the thought only serving to fuel his arousal. His chest tightened as he watched Price work you open. You faintly made out the sound of a zipper as your senses started to be overloaded, vision blurry and ears ringing.
“Fuck, John. I’m close,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his free one to steady yourself as your climax rapidly approached. His muscles tensed under your grip; he was every bit as strong as you had imagined.
Price tutted at you, shaking his head. “Ask your husband for permission, dear.”
“Simon,” you pleaded. “Simon, please, I-” your breath was coming in ragged gasps, leaving you incapable of forming a full sentence.
“Let go, love,” you heard him from the corner of the room. The way his voice strained told you that he was stroking his cock as he listened to you begging for release. Begging him despite another man being the one to drive you to orgasm.
Price grabbed you by the chin, angling it upwards and pressing his lips to yours, stifling your cries of pleasure as you came undone. As if he could keep your release all to himself like this, swallowing it down so Ghost couldn’t have it.
Ghost watched intently as Price took control of the situation, his body tense with anticipation for what was about to happen. He could feel his own climax building inside him, mirroring your pleasure as he listened to your cries of ecstasy being muffled by the other man’s kiss.
As Price continued to milk your orgasm, he leaned down and whispered into your ear, this time low enough that Ghost couldn’t hear, “You were never quite this pretty all the times I’ve imagined you coming.”
He pulled away slowly, leaving you panting and covered in sweat. His eyes met Ghost’s once more before he finally released you from his grasp. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs trembling as you tried to catch your breath. He pulled your panties off, eyes glued to your glistening cunt.
“Lie back for me, sweetheart,” John ordered as he moved for his zipper, desperate to free his throbbing cock. You did as he said, gaze locked on his crotch as he tugged down his pants and boxers.
As his cock sprang free, you hated the way you instantly noticed it wasn’t as big as Ghost’s. It wasn’t small by any means, maybe even a bit longer, but not as thick. You had gotten so used to feeling stuffed full by Ghost that now a part of you was anxious to have another man for the first time in years. What if you were spoiled? What if your husband had ruined you for all other cocks?
You glanced in his direction, noting the small smirk tugging at his lips and you knew he was aware of exactly what was on your mind. Smug bastard, you thought to yourself before returning your attention to Price, opening your legs wider for him.
Ghost’s expression remained impassive as he watched Price line himself up and penetrate you. His hand twitched unconsciously, the urge to reach out and claim what was rightfully his burning within him. But he held back, remaining silent and still, his hand freezing on his cock.
You moaned as Price buried himself to the hilt, having quickly forgotten any anxiety you were feeling a moment before. He let you adjust to his length before pulling out completely and slamming his hips forward, causing you to yelp. Ghost began pumping himself again as he saw how rough his friend was with you, how well you were taking him.
“Fuck,” he hissed as he pounded into you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
His arms fell to either side of your head as he leaned in to nibble at your neck. From this angle his gut pushed into your stomach - the only distinction between the sensation of his and your husband’s was John’s more pronounced happy trail.
He reached down between the two of you and began roughly rubbing at your sensitive clit again. His tempo didn't falter and he was hitting your g-spot with each stroke, white-hot pleasure clouding your mind and turning you into a mumbling mess beneath him.
“Yeah? Like that?” Price cooed at you and your toes curled. He kept up his pace, relentlessly pummeling you.
“Yes. God, yes,” you whined. The sounds of skin on skin and moaning filled the room from all three of you now.
Your walls contracted around Price and your back arched, pressing your bodies flush together as you surrendered yourself to him completely.
“Come for me,” he encouraged with a hint of ownership. Not of you, but of this orgasm. The last one may have been for Ghost, but this one would be for him.
He thrust into you more deliberately now, bottoming out each time. You let out a strangled moan as you climaxed again. Ghost came with you, spurting into his hand as he squeezed his cock tightly, his own sounds of pleasure drowned out by yours.
You whimpered as John suddenly pulled out of you and moved to stand at the edge of the bed. “C’mere,” he croaked, quickly sitting you up and bringing your head down towards his cock.
“You didn’t think I’d let anyone else finish inside that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?” Ghost murmured from the corner, voice hoarse as he was spent from his own release.
You shifted your gaze to Simon before parting your lips for Price. “Mm, see how you taste on another man’s cock?” He taunted as you wrapped your mouth around the head.
Though your eyes stayed glued to Ghost’s, you attempted a nod in response. Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly took more of his shaft into your mouth.
“Simon says you’re good with your mouth. I intend to take full advantage of that,” he said, grunting as he pushed himself deep into your throat, your eyes returning to him.
As you moaned around his cock he smirked down at you. "Oh, you like it rough, do you?" He quickly lost control, hips meeting your face as he thrust in rhythm with your mouth.
You had mixture of saliva and pre-cum running down your chin now, mascara staining your cheeks. Ghost had you in a similar state countless times before while fucking your face, but seeing you like this wrapped around someone else's cock was turning him on in an entirely new way.
In an attempt to prolong his release, Price tangled his fingers into your hair, holding you in place at the base of his cock. When you gagged he loosened his grip, allowing you to back off a bit before you started bobbing your head on his length again. "That feels incredible," he said, admiring the way you milked his cock.
His balls were already tight, and you pushed him over the edge once you began to caress them with feather-light touches. He threw his head back with a low groan, frame tensing as he shot thick ropes of cum down your throat. His hips jerked forward as you hollowed out your cheeks. You swallowed most of his spend and pulled off of his cock with a satisfied moan.
He brushed the hair away from your face, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. His thumb trailed over your bottom lip, collecting the bit of cum that had dribbled out. He held it there for you, waiting for you to clean it off. You took it into your mouth, taking your time cleaning him, savoring the taste as you swirling your tongue around his finger. He pulled it out with a loud pop once he caught his breath.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, referring to your performance just as much as your disheveled appearance.
“That she is,” Ghost said, rising from his seat, looking at you with a predatory gaze. He tucked his still semi-hard cock into his pants and your stomach tightened at the sight.
Price zipped himself up as well and turned to Ghost. You were surprised he wouldn’t be staying, but it was clear the two men had discussed all the details beforehand.
“Oh sweetheart, I don’t want anyone here for the depraved things I’m gonna do to you,” Ghost threatened in a low tone that had you clenching around nothing. Price let out a hearty laugh before turning back to you.
“Thank you for being so good for me,” he murmured and cupped your face in his hands. When Ghost cleared his throat behind him, he corrected himself with a sheepish grin. “Good for us.”
He gave you a genuine smile and a soft kiss on the forehead before leaving for the front door with Ghost. They exchanged goodbyes and the last you heard from Price as you walked to the doorway was, “Don’t be a stranger now, Simon.”
Shortly after you heard the door swing shut your husband was on you. “Alright, back to bed with you,” Simon grinned, smacking your ass playfully. You giggled, walking backwards, eyes never leaving him as he stripped.
“You’re mine,” he reminded you with a growl before his lips crashed into yours, the two of you falling onto the bed.
#cod smut#price x reader#ghost x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#john price smut#captain price smut#ghost smut#simon riley smut#*mine
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bedtime with mike and abby ( mike schmidt x reader)
hi guys! this is my first ever lil fic/imagine/blurb here!! if y'all like this, I'll keep it up. I'm also new to tumblr, so please please be patient with me. in the future i'd love to do requests.
also if someone wants to help me with formatting/be friends, just shoot me a msg :p
this is just a quick lil imagine/blurb. I've seen so many smutty fics and i wanted to spice it up w/ some fluff. just sleepy time on mike's night off! on w the fic :p
*edit* this isn’t revised!! i threw something together last min and posted cause i felt like writing lol. don’t mind the typos
word count: 1,633
warnings: none! just fluff, angst if u squint!!
summary: nighttime with mike and abby on his day off!
Most of the time, you, your boyfriend Mike, and his little sister Abby were on entirely different schedules. Mike worked nights at a shitty gas station job for the time being after his job at Freddy's was... well.. no more for obvious reasons. Even though he swore off the night shift, this was necessary until he could find something better. Jobs were sparse at the moment, and Mike's history didn't exactly make him a star candidate.
A typical night would consist of you making the three of you dinner, slowly forcing Abby to venture out when it came to her taste buds. Recently, she'd taken a liking to tacos. You and Mike would make a joint effort to get her ready for bed earlier together, as Mike was more particular about being there for her since the incident. She'd get a bath, get into her jammies, and the two of you would tuck her in with a bedtime story. You'd both kiss her little forehead goodnight, then kiss your boyfriend on his lips before sending him off.
Most nights, you tossed and turned in your sleep, unable to rest properly without Mike by your side. A painfully dull feeling would rest in your stomach, the lack of his warmth beside you agonizing. You'd spend all night waiting for 6am to roll around as you felt the bed dip on his side, barely stirring you from your sleep. You'd have thirty minutes until your alarm went off, thirty minutes to wrap yourself up into him before you once again went on your separate ways... living your separate lives until you could have your few hours of union later on.
But tonight, you were lucky. Mike had gotten the next few days off. His job was being extra kind as they actually recognized the hard work Mike put in, something he wasn't used to. They'd told him someone would take over for a bit, to enjoy himself, to rest. It may have been a low-paying, trashy, borderline dangerous job, but his boss was nice, and the customers were certainly safer to deal with than those at the pizzeria.
You called out sick from work, not wanting to miss a single second with your little trio. You'd both even made the decision to pull Abby out of school for the day, spending it building forts, watching movies, and eating ice cream. The three of you even went out rollerskating, Mike awkwardly tumbling every few seconds on the rink as Abby would bust out laughing at him. The three of you were now sat around on the couch, Mike smooshed into the far side of the armrest as your entire body lay on his, Abby's head resting in your lap as she sleepily blinked her eyes. She'd already had her bath, brushed her teeth, and all three of you were in your pajamas.
"So, everyone have a good day?" Mike asked, turning his head to the two of you with a small but sleepy smile.
"Mhm," Abby hummed quietly, slowly nodding her head against your lap. It was clear that she was moments from passing out, and once Abby was out, she was impossible to get up without a fight.
"Okay, I think it's time for bed," you giggled, slowly lifting your own head up from Mike's shoulder. Mike nodded in agreement, a laugh of his own escaping his lips.
You both slowly pulled Abby up, getting her up on her feet, her half asleep state making her delirious as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, staring back at the two of you in confusion.
"C'mon, Abs, it's time for bed," Mike muttered, standing up. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up with him. You stood as well, following Mike as he led Abby to her room. She crawled up into her bed, her little body tucking under her blankets as the two of you sat on both sides of her.
"Want a bedtime story?" Mike asked, raising his eyebrows as he leaned down to press a small kiss to Abby's forehead. Abby's lips parted to answer, but before she could, her eyes were closed and she was out. A sincere and quiet chuckle escaped underneath Mike's breath, his eyes full of love for his sister as her stared down at her. You couldn't help but stare, the edges of your mouth turning up into a sleepy smile of your own. He was so majestic, his messy but soft brown curls were laying in every which way on his head. Even though he was much more rested than usual, his eyes were still somewhat sunken in, but to you, that just made him more attractive. His scruff was messy, unshaven, but it managed to highlight his jawline. The sparkle that remained in his eyes, even through it all, after everything that he'd been through, warmed you to your core, your love for him overwhelming.
"What?" Mike asked quietly with a smile still plastered on his lips, his eyes now locked on yours. A blush crossed your cheeks as you realize you’d been caught, your eyebrows raising.
“Nothin’,” you hummed, shaking your head. “Just admiring you.” Your hand reached out to his as the two of you went to your own bedroom, the only light now lighting up your house being the moonlight and street lamps peeking through the blinds. You both crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over your bodies.
There was nothing but silence other than the sound of the fan in your room, the hum almost hypnotic as you wrapped yourself up in his arms. Your head rest against his chest as he instantly tugged you closer, his back flat on the bed as his hand cradled your side. His thumb drew small figure eights on your shoulder. Your body felt fuzzy, a type of relaxation you hadn’t felt at night in a while. Mike made you feel safe. On nights where you two were able to just snuggle up, nothing could buzz in your mind. Anxious thoughts disappeared, even the ones that seemed to be a constant in the back of your brain. There was nothing but a warmness in your mind and a beam of love in your heart.
“Hey, baby?” You heard Mike ask softly, his voice cracking from his sleepiness. You were broken from your train of thought by this, looking up at the man with the sleepy eyes. “Hm?” You hummed in response, your eyes fluttering, but he couldn’t see due to the lack of light. Mike sat up, pulling you up with him as he grabbed your hands, both of your faces now lit up by the light peeking through the cracks in your curtain.
“I- I know we don’t get nights like these much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m never home, I’m sorry you have to do so much for you and Abby alone. I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess with Freddy’s, got you involved in so much of this,” he said, his voice seeping with sadness and regret. His eyes held an even softer emotion than they did earlier, one that felt like a knife to your chest. “Most importantly, I’m sorry I can’t be the boyfriend I should be. I mean, we should be spending our nights out at clubs, going out on special dates and vacations, and I hate that I’m unable to give you that,” he sniffled, a tear now falling down his eye.
You leaned forward, a frown on your lips as your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes locked on his as you placed your hand on his cheek, wiping away the tear with your thumb as you shook your head. Mike’s own two much larger hands were now placed on both of your cheeks as he continued. “But listen, Y/N, I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone, okay? I- I’m not good at this shit, I know I’m not. I’m clumsy and I’m bad at emotions. I don’t always know what I want or what I need, but I know I don’t only want you, but I need you. You came into my life and you brightened it where it was the darkest. You brought happiness back, you made me understand what joy was again, what it was like to feel.. complete. You saved me, but..” he trailed off again, full on tears falling down his cheeks now. “Most importantly, you saved Abby, made her feel whole again too, gave her somethin’ like a mother, something I couldn’t give her,” he said, his voice breaking at the end. Before he could say another word, you wrapped around arms around him, pulling him into a massive bear hug. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, your mind not even focused on the salty tears and the snotty nose that was leaned up against your shoulder. Your hands rubbing his back as you kissed the top of his head.
“Oh, baby..” you whispered softly, squeezing him like if you let go he’d disappear. “You know I love you so much too…” you finished, pulling his face up by his chin, pressing a soft, gentle but electric kiss to his lips. The two of you then settled back into bed, curling up in each other’s arms as he played with your hair, occasionally leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, small sniffles still leaving his nose from the emotional moment. He was right, it was rare you got moments like these together, but when you did, you cherished them. It took about thirty minutes of sweet nothings and cuddles before the two of you drifted off, in your own little dream worlds filled with many nights like these.
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt#mike schmidt imagine#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson fanfic#michael schmidt#michael schmidt x reader
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13 Eras of Us (Taylor Swift x Morgan!R): Era 1 - We Were Both Young When I First Saw You
Request: Taylor Swift x Alex morgan's little sister. They start off as friends and realize that there may be something more.
Chapter synopsis: 1 of 13: The era where everything begins. R and Taylor meet, and become friends. Composed of little moments between them, r and the Team and R and her sister.
Notes: Hey dudes, i'm really really stoked about this series, and i really hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.
July, 2015
We were both young when I first saw you
You sighed, gripping the rubber handles of your crutches, leaning more heavily onto the foam padding under your arms despite the ache it caused from the constant chafing. It was an annoying consequence of your injury.
A secondary effect that the trainers hadn’t told you about when they convinced you that an Achilles tear wasn’t something you could walk off. When they swore up and down that the two other liniments in your ankle were holding on by threads and absolutely could not hold your weight for another 5 weeks.
You still hadn’t gotten used to them, not that you really had the chance.
They were a fairly new addition to your wardrobe, made necessary by one bad tackle only 20 minutes into your first game in Canada, effectively ruining your World Cup run (something you were still bummed about despite your team actually winning the World Cup- not that you would call yourself a World Cup Winner).
You let out another breath, unable to stop the smile on your face as the lights shifted to highlight the woman on stage.
She was absolutely mesmerizing in her shimmery silver dress, and it was nice to get to watch without the team lingering behind you. It was the only good thing about being injured.
You didn’t have to go on the stage with them.
Alas, you were lucky you got to come to the 1989 tour with the team at all. Taylor Swift had only invited the 2015 World Cup winners.
It was one of the few benefits of being The Alex Morgan’s little sister you supposed. She sent a text and then you had been invited too.
It strangely made you feel like a 10-year-old chasing after her and her new college friends, going to places where you just didn’t belong. But then again, you felt that way any time you spent more than an hour with your older sister since she left your sobbing form in the driveway as she headed off to Berkley.
Things hadn’t been the same between you since, and all of her efforts just felt like a weird form of a twisted apology, even now.
It was like you were her charity case or something, and that didn’t sit right with you.
Still, you were grateful she had pulled the strings to get you backstage to one of your favorite singer’s shows. God knew you wouldn’t have survived well in the crowd, especially not now that you could barely stand on your own.
“Pretty spectacular isn’t it?”
You flinched at the voice, jerking away from the woman standing close enough to your left side to also be able to see the stage, but not too close. Just like she had been all night.
She reached out a steadying hand as the crutches wobbled dangerously underneath you, an easy smile never leaving her features.
You swallowed hard, trying to form words to say anything to Taylor’s mom.
You weren’t big into fandom or social media, but you still knew who she was, and it felt weird meeting her (definitely not because you had a massive crush on her daughter- or the character her daughter pretended to be on stage).
“She’s amazing,” You finally managed to force the words from your throat, turning back towards the flashing lights on stage and around the stadium.
Andrea hummed. “She is. You’re pretty amazing too,”
She had heard about your… reputation but all she had seen from you tonight was a shy kid desperately searching for something. Exactly what that something was she couldn’t put her finger, but she suspected it had to do with the way you were watching your older sister interact all night.
You shrugged, your shoulders collapsing in on you just a bit. “Right now I’m gimpy, and I couldn’t imagine having the control over an audience that she does,”
Andrea made a low noise, thinking better than to argue with you. She didn’t know you well enough for a debate.
She didn’t want to interrupt you any more than she had anyway.
The way you were staring at the stage was a sight to behold, to say the least, your lip trapped between your teeth and your eyes filled with wonder.
She had seen many fans in her days, but there was just something… different about how you watched the show. The tender adoration in your eyes was beautiful, and it made the mom in her wonder what the future would hold for you and her daughter.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as style came to an end and your sister disappeared below the stage.
You smiled towards Andrea. “I better go before they think I tried to escape,”
She raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that something you’ve done before?”
You shrugged again, your grin turning impish.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” You winked as you started to maneuver yourself back towards where you knew Alex would be coming out, and Andreas' laugh sounded from behind you.
That had been the point after all hadn't it?
Still, you were slightly relieved when your sister stepped through the curtain that separated the stage from the backstage area.
While Andrea and the stage managers had been as welcoming as they could be, you still hadn’t felt like you belonged. You hadn’t been the one invited after all. It also helped that you would be getting out of the noise until Taylor got off stage and was ready for the mini meet and greet the team planned.
“How did that crowd feel?” You asked as Alex approached you, and the crowd at the front of the stage cheered again, painting an interested smile across your features.
It felt electric from the audience, so you could only imagine what it felt like being on stage,
“Really good,” Alex smiled widely, wiggling the trophy in her arms just a bit. “Like World Cup good,”
“It’s insane how she can control a room like that,”
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You felt her slow down beside you and her eyes searched your face. “Don’t even think about it,”
“What?” You asked, your tongue poking out of your mouth as you focused on keeping up with the team.
“I know you and I know that look,” She said seriously. “She’s my age, and you’re not 18 for another 10 days,”
You shrugged. “So?”
You hadn’t been planning on hitting on America's top superstar, but you would never miss an opportunity to mess with your older sister. Plus, you didn’t see the harm in flirting.
It was a fundamental part of your personality after all.
“Y/n I’m serious,”
Your lips pulled into a playful smirk, glancing up at her as she held the door to a small room for you. “And I’m committed to not being serious,”
It was no secret that your… extracurricular activities had picked up since your injury, and you had done little to mask your enjoyment of the league's hookup culture since you joined in lew of going to college.
What annoyed Alex more was that no one in North Carolina would step up and help her stop you.
“Y/n,” Alex let out a suffering sigh, catching the crutch before you could hobble away.
“Look, she’s out of my league, and it’s criminal to not tell a gorgeous woman how gorgeous she is,”
“Kid’s got a point,” Kelley said, appearing at your other side and sending you a small wink. “Shooting my shot is how I landed you after all,”
“That’s true baby horse,” Cheney said, grabbing a coke off of the large catering table that dominated the room. “It’s also how Toby got Chris,”
“How did we get roped into this?” Tobin groaned, her slightly red-rimmed eyes going wide, popping a grape in her mouth.
Kelley snorted. “You got roped into this because you asked Chris out after you beat her in the college cup, while she was still on the field,”
“You fucking proposed to Alex after your team beat her in a shootout,” Christen snickered, shaking her head. “You literally have no room to talk,”
You chucked at Kelley’s blush, barely noticing the new body that had entered the room and was leaning up against the doorframe next to you.
“Sounds like the field is a very active place for you guys,” The voice said, and you snapped your head to meet the most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen in your entire life. “Though your timing seems… questionable,”
“Tay!”
“That was an amazing show,”
“Dude, that crowd is nuts. It’s like they’re eating out of the palm of your hand,”
Taylor smiled widely at the team, her eyes glimmering in the dressing room light. “Well thank you, it was an absolute pleasure to get to share the stage with you all tonight,”
She pushed off of the wall, and your eyes followed her like she was a magnet. She looked so… graceful even in a pair of sweats.
“The pleasure was all ours,” Cheney grinned back at her. “it was a blast, thank you again for inviting us,”
“Anything to bring more visibility to what you guys do,” Taylor nodded, looking over the catering table and picking sparkling water from the selection. “It’s empowering to young girls everywhere,”
You were drawn to her hands as they flexed around the bottle. To her lips as she timed her sips so she could continue her conversation with Cheney. She was so elegant.
Even in your sexcapades, you had never been so… taken with someone.
“This is my younger sister, Y/n,” You blinked away from Taylor and towards Alex, and back, feeling taken slightly off guard. You hadn’t realized you zoned out.
The blonde singer nodded towards you, waving the bottle. “Hey. I’m Taylor,”
“I’m Y/n,” Your lips quirked up, and you stuck your hand out for her to take, bringing it to your lips when she did. “And I’m your wildest dream,”
“Very smooth,” Taylor chuckled, pulling her hand back, and you could have sworn she had a little bit of pink dusting her cheeks.
“Smoother than a fresh jar of skippy,” You winked back, earning an ever louder giggle from the singer.
The room erupted into laughter, and you sent a proud smirk toward your sister.
She shook her head. “Don’t encourage her. She’s been practicing all week for this,”
“Well I can’t practice soccer, so what did you expect?” You shrugged as much as you could over the crutches. “I need to use my talents for something,”
“I think it was amazing,” Taylor cut in, grinning.
“See!”
Alex rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She had obviously been outvoted. It would be a fun story to tell your future significant other anyway.
“It’s very nice to meet you Y/n,” Taylor said, sobering. “I was happy you could make it, even if you weren’t on the squad,”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” You nodded, your dimples on full display. “Thanks for the invite,”
“No way I would exclude one of my favorite players,” She hummed. “I was so sad when you got hurt,”
You felt heat in your cheeks, traveling up to your ears. Taylor knew who you were. She liked to watch you play.
You swallowed hard. “I should be up and playing again within the next couple of months,”
Your PT promised you that as long as you followed the plan, you’d be back and playing by the end of the season. With the way Paul was pushing you, you knew you’d probably be back sooner.
“Well, if you’re ever in New York let me know,” She said, pulling out her phone and opening the texting app before passing it to you. “I’d love to see a game,”
You took the offered item, quickly typing in your number. “Yeah, I’m sure I can get you and the squad good seats,”
She sent you one last smile before she turned back towards the team. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice to see you all again,”
You stared at her, as she waved and left, not actually believing what had just happened.
Your bad pickup line had gotten you The Taylor Swift’s number, and she wanted to see a game.
*****
September, 2015
We play dumb, but we know exactly what we’re doing
You never expect Taylor to actually text you. Hell, you weren’t convinced that the phone she let you text yourself from wasn’t a business phone.
But as it turned out, Taylor did text you.
First, it was a simple text asking about your recovery because a commentator had mentioned it. Then the conversation between the two of you just didn’t stop.
And you realized very quickly that you never wanted it to stop.
You found that Taylor was up at all of the weird hours you were and that no matter what she was doing, she was never too busy to say hello. Then texting turned into hanging out when you were in New York, Florida, or California, and before you knew it, it was a regular occurrence.
“I fucking suck at this,” You groaned, letting go of the guitar strings and flopping onto your back. “And my fingers hurt now. I’m pretty sure they’re bleeding,”
You held them up in the air pretending to examine them for the little flecks of red you were sure you would find there.
“No, you just haven’t practiced enough to build calluses,” Taylor said, and you could hear the eye roll in her voice.
“I got enough of them on my feet thank you,” You muttered, looking up at her through your eyelashes and wiggling your fingers at her. “I don’t need guitar string scars on my hands too,”
She caught your hand, smoothing it over her palm. “Don’t be overdramatic,”
“Me!” You exclaimed indignantly, holding your hand to your chest in mock offense.
“Yes,” Taylor smirked. “This isn’t soccer where you can flop about,”
You frowned. “I don’t flop,”
She raised an eyebrow at you, and you pouted. “Fine. I don’t flop often, and not unless it’s necessary,”
“Whatever you say,” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Sit up and I’ll help you,”
You pouted but did as she asked, pushing yourself back to sit, crossing your legs so you could hold the guitar like she had shown you the first time you did this.
Her lips ticked up at you, and she scooted so your knees were touching.
“Alright so g,” She said, positioning her fingers on the string, waiting for you to copy her.
You tried, moving each finger to the strings. “Like this?”
“Not quite,” She said, leaning forward and moving your pinky. “That one goes on the low e,”
You nodded, trying not to blush at how close she was to you. So close that you could smell her coconut shampoo.
“Now, strum slowly,” She said, leaning back and demonstrating.
You did your best to copy her, slowly drawing the pick across each of the strings, but instead of making the beautiful chord she was, it made an off-key wamp.
“I’m hopeless,” You said dramatically dropping your pick and flopping back on her fluffy carpet. “Worse than the whole Tom Sermanni debacle,”
She sighed and took the guitar off, maneuvering so she was sitting next to you. “I didn’t know you were so easily discouraged. I thought with all the sports, you’d have some resiliency,”
“I’m good at soccer,” You shrugged. “My fingers aren’t long enough or sting enough for guitar,”
“Were you good at soccer to begin with?” Taylor asked you softly.
You scrunched your nose. The truth was that you had been playing soccer too long to remember when you started. It was always a part of your life.
“No,” You said finally, biting your lip. “Alex absolutely destroyed me any time we practiced. She even stepped on my neck one time with her rain cleats and gave me a scar,”
You pointed to the small dimple just below your chin. Sure it had been an accident, but it ultimately was the reason you were a midfielder instead of a forward.
When you were young, Alex had always been better than you. More competitive, more ruthless, and she didn’t go easy on you in practice. It’s what made you such a good player.
“But you still play?” Taylor pressed, and your eyes were drawn to how her lips formed a thin line.
“Not as a forward,” You admitted easily. “Mom got tired of all of the bickering,”
Once you switched positions, you and Alex could work together instead of going head to head. It made you a lethal pair and let you both show off your talents.
It also saved your mother’s sanity.
“That’s not the point,” Taylor chuckled. “If you can change positions, you can play a chord on a guitar. You just need patience,”
“I wasn’t born with that,” You smirked.
She rolled her eyes. “Try for me?”
“Fine,” You sighed, pushing yourself to a sitting position yet again.
It was kinda scary how easily she could bed you to her will. All she had to do was ask.
“Put your fingers in position,” She said, leaning forward and checking to make sure they were on the right strings. “And then play each one individually,”
You grabbed the pick from the floor beside you and very slowly brought it across the strings. All of the strings sounded right except for the pinky.
“Press down a little harder,” She said, her tongue caught between her teeth as she reached over to help you. “And try again,”
You did as she asked, and this time, the G chord sounded through her apartment.
“Great job!” She cheered, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.
“Thanks,” You cleared your throat and looked away. “Couldn't have done it without you, literally, but um… can we be done with me playing? I think my fingers are going to fall off,”
You turned towards her, not realizing how close you were, and nearly brushed her nose with yours. You pulled back, trying not to look at her lips, or her burning blue eyes, focusing on a very small freckle on her forehead because it felt like the safest option.
The two of you hated a lingering breath, and the air between you felt electric. You would have sworn that her eyes flickered to your lips, just as her tongue poked out to wet her own.
But she couldn’t be into you.
She was America’s favorite pop star, she was a fully-fledged adult while you were still basically a kid, and most importantly, she was straight.
“Yeah, we can do something else,” She hummed, reaching for the guitar and carefully pulling it over your head.
“Can you play something for me?” You asked, scooping Meredith up and settling her in your lap when she nudged against your leg.
For a cat that didn’t like being picked up and cuddled, she was very attached to you, except when you were playing the guitar.
“Sure,” She nodded, grabbing her guitar and plucking out some chords. “Any requests?”
You shook your head, smiling down at the cat as she kneaded her feet into your thighs and finally plopped down with a short purr. “Whatever you want,”
“Now that’s no fun,” Her lips turned up, and her head ticked to the side and she reached over to scratch the cat's head. “Come on, what’s your dream surprise song?”
Your shoulders lifted and fell, and more red bled into your cheeks. “Um… I don’t suppose you have the 10-minute version of All Too Well available?”
She chuckled and shook her head, a playful smile pulling at her lips. “Unfortunately, it was a rant that I don’t currently have memorized,”
“Hey, you asked for the dream song,” You held your hands up in defense, unable to stop yourself from laughing with her. “I think a lot of fans would agree to have that on their list,”
She shrugged, half in agreement and half in amusement. “I just think it’s funny that it came from a line I said in an interview almost 4 years ago,”
“Honestly, I think if a demo version of it did exist, it would have been leaked already. Some of your sleuthy fans are obsessed,” You said, your dimples popping out. “I couldn’t not ask for it,”
She snorted “Trust me, I know. It was a good shot, and if it did exist, I’d totally play it for you. I trust you not to be secretly recording,”
You hummed, trying not to think too hard about how she trusted you. How she would have played one of her most secret and tightly kept songs for you “But alas it does not,”
“No, not in a playable form,” She shook her head, her blue eyes shining. “Pick a new one,”
You bit your lip, rolling through the list of songs in your head. “What about State of Grace,”
The piano version had always been one of your favorites, and you so often got the intro stuck in your head.
“We can do that,” She smiled widely at you and began picking out the chords. “Only if you promise to sing along?”
Your nose scrunched. “You don’t want me to sing, I sound like a dying walrus, just ask Alex,”
You knew Alex would agree, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t do music anymore.
“Hum then,” She conceded, and you nodded.
You could hum- just not in tune, but you didn’t have to be in tune with Taylor.
You just had to be yourself, and you had never experienced that with anyone else.
******
December 2015
Barefoot in the kitchen
Sacred new beginnings
That became my religion, listen
You eyed the oven warily from across the island, leaning into the cool stone countertop as Taylor flitted around you, pulling out various ingredients.
It wasn’t that you were afraid of the oven, it was just that you were not known for being a good cook. Actually, you were known for being a very not good cook.
You were banned from making anything in any of your sister's kitchens, and you rarely ventured to make more than Dino nuggets (which you still burned) on your own.
As long as you didn’t touch the controls, everything should be fine.
“You alright?” Taylor asked, setting a stick of butter on the counter next to you, her hand landing gently on your forearm. “You’re staring at the stove,”
“Yeah,” You blinked away from the copper appliance and towards Taylor, painting an easy smile across your lips. “I’ve just never made cookies before,”
She frowned. “Never ever?”
You shook your head, biting your lip. You didn’t want to tell her that any time your sisters had tried, it ended in charcoal (and an oven fire… twice) instead of ooey, gooey deliciousness.
“We were more of sports people than baking people,” You explained with an easy shrug. “Plus after a hard game, the precut square ones always do the trick,”
Her nose scrunched adorably. “But they don’t sell peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the little squares,”
“Kelley likes to bake. Jerry too. I’m not usually involved,” You answered with ease, taking the wooden spoon she passed you. “When Alex and I get together we usually get distracted trying new tactics and tricks,”
You didn’t want to say that you were always banished from the kitchen, at least until the oven was off.
A thoughtful look crossed her face.
This was the first time you had mentioned Alex by name and not followed it with a remark about something terrible she had done. The first time you hadn’t breezed by her existence in the greater context of the team.
She wanted to pry, to ask why there was a strange tension between you and your older sister, but she wasn’t sure you would give her a straight answer.
You were a master at spinning questions around (and running interviewers around in circles) when you wanted to, so the only way she would get the story was if you wanted to tell her.
And she so desperately wanted you to want to let her into your personal life.
“Austin doesn’t like to cook either, but we usually chat while I get everything ready,” She said.
“Alex and I talk better on the field,” Your head bobbed gently as you began to stir the ingredients in the bowl. “Soccer is our best communication method, and Kelley likes to feed us when we’re done,”
She opened her mouth to ask more, to try and understand why the only place you really opened up was the field, but your phone buzzed obnoxiously on the counter.
Your eyebrows furrowed as Emily’s contact photo popped up on your screen.
“You can answer it,” Taylor hummed, grabbing the spoon and bowl from you and carefully measuring in more ingredients.
You sighed. “It’s probably not important,”
“But what if it is?” Taylor shrugged. She didn’t want you ignoring your other friends to hang out with her, even if she was slightly flattered that you always gave her your undivided attention (except when you watched movies). “Answer it,”
“Sup loser,” Emily’s voice filled Taylor’s kitchen as your best friend’s face filled the screen, a wide smile showing off her dimples.
You rolled your eyes. She would never let you live down how the thorns had beaten the red stars. Badly. Even if you had gotten a banger of a goal on her yourself.
“Don’t rub it in,” You muttered, balancing the phone against a vase so you could keep stirring the batter, careful that you were the only person in the shot. “What do you want?”
“Just figured I’d see if you’d seen the roster for January camp yet,” She hummed, shifting forward as if she was trying to see what you were doing, just as Taylor’s hands plopped a stick of butter into the bowl. “Are you baking? Should I call the fire department?”
You glowered at her, beginning to mix the thick batter, your tongue poking out the side of your cheek in concentration.
You hadn’t had time to read your emails yet, not that you were worried. You just got so… distracted with Taylor. You wanted to be in the moment. You wanted to savor every second you got with the person slowly becoming your best friend.
“No, yes, no,” You said, eyes flickering towards Taylor and then back to the phone.“I’m supervised,”
She raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re supervised? Are you clothed?”
Red filled your cheeks at the implication, and you did your best to ignore Taylor’s raised eyebrow.
She had heard about your reputation, but having one of your friends bring it up right in front of her still made you blush. You didn’t want her to think that you had some endgame. That you were playing her.
You weren’t (even if the fluttering in your chest when you were with her made you want something… more).
You cleared your throat. “I’m with a friend Sonnett,”
It came out more biting than you meant for it to. More defensive.
She rolled her eyes, holding her hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, just be safe,”
“Fuck off,” You bit back, your teeth clacking, even as Taylor dumped the chocolate chips into the bowl.
“I love you too Y/n,” She cackled back, unphased by your sudden moodiness. She had seen it hundreds of times before when things in the pitch didn’t go your way. “See you in a few weeks,”
“Bye loser,” You muttered, unable to resist returning her jab.
A devilish smirk broke across her face, and you knew you would regret trying to tease her. “Bye y/n and y/n’s friend,”
“Bye Sonnett,” Taylor added, as you clicked the end call button, and from Emily’s furrowed eyebrows just before the screen ended, you knew she didn’t know who had said goodbye to her.
You anxiously rubbed the back of your neck, avoiding running your hand through your hair so you didn’t have to wash them… again. “Sorry about her,”
“She’s charming,” Taylor hummed, taking the bowl of cookie dough from in front of you. “Is she always like that?”
“No,” You muttered, as she carefully scooped out a bit of dough with a spoon and transferred it to a baking sheet. “She can actually be pretty sweet when she wants to be. It’s why Rosie loves her so much,”
Taylor’s head tilted to the side as she tried to follow your train of thought. Despite how much you talked about the team, you rarely ever mentioned the relationships within it. The team was intensely private in that way, and she respected that. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious… and you had technically mentioned it first.
“Are they dating?”
“No,” You snorted, shaking your head. They were two blind idiots in love, terrified of messing up a friendship. “They mostly just make moon eyes at each other right now. But hopefully winning a gold will give one of them the balls to finally make a move,”
“Like she thought you had the balls to bake naked,”
She knew there had to be a story there, but getting you to actually tell her would be a bigger challenge.
More red colored your cheeks, traveling up to your ears.
“It would be more likely for me to be naked, than for me to be baking,” you murmured, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. “That comment was probably more about the supervision. The last time she called I was sneaking out of a girl's apartment,”
Her eyebrow raised nearly to her hairline. “And you answered?”
It was hard to wrap her head around how commonplace your hookups were. She didn’t like how casual you and everyone around you were about them, especially since you were so young.
“She wanted to check in,” You waved a hand dismissively. “We lost pretty badly,”
She didn’t quite know how those two pieces fit together. “But she asked if you needed the fire department,”
You cleared your throat and looked away. “I… distracted a girl one time while she was cooking,”
Taylor swallowed her grimace. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous. Not yet anyway.
She was your friend.
She scooped a small bit of batter with her finger and reached out to smear it on the very tip of your nose. “Sounds pretty dangerous,”
Your eyes crossed as you tried to see the little blob, and Taylor laughed loudly at the expression.
“You didn’t just do that,”
Taylor sat back, smirking at you widely. “Oh, but I did. What are you going to do about it?”
You reached across the island, grabbing a small scoop of flour.
“This,” You said, rubbing the flour into her cheek with a grin. “It’s a little lighter than your normal highlight, but it suits you,”
She paused for a second before reaching for the flour container, dipping her hand inside. “Oh, it’s on now,”
She didn’t give you time to duck as she tossed a handful of flour towards you, and you caught a stick of butter still out on the counter as you dove for cover.
More flour powdered around you in a cloud as you peeked up from your hiding space, throwing a bit of soft butter towards her. It skidded across the counter, mixing with the sugar and flour smeared across the surface.
It almost made you feel bad, but you would help her clean it up.
“Missed me, loser,”
Your nose scrunched at the name, and your eyebrows furrowed.
You would not be a loser.
You crawled towards your left, sneaking around the island until you saw her right foot, and a smile broke across your face.
You dove for her, catching her around the waist, sending the bag of flour flying around you as you both fell, her peels of laughter echoing across the kitchen.
“I don’t lose,” You chuckled into her neck as flour fell around you like snow. “Flour fights and otherwise,”
Taylor rolled off of you, propping herself up on her elbow so she could look at you. “You’ve got a little bit of flour there,”
She gestured towards your nose, and you lifted your shirt to wipe the area she indicated. You felt the way her eyes were immediately glued to your exposed abs, and you took an extra second to wipe your face so she could look.
Her face was red when you dropped your shirt.
“Thanks,” You winked, and the red bled from her cheeks down her neck.
She snorted and shook her head. “That just made it worse,”
You wiggled your eyebrows and licked your lips for good measure. “That’s ok, I’ve gotten way dirtier anyway,”
“You’re too much,” She said, still giggling, watching your shoulder as she sat up. “Let’s get the cookies in the oven and we can clean up while they bake,”
You pouted dramatically. “What if I want to stay dirty?”
She rolled her eyes, already pushing herself to her feet. “You don’t get cookies,”
You wrinkled your nose. “Bummer,”
“Come on,” She held her hand out to you, and you took it, letting her pull you up.
She stole a hug before she let you go, directing you towards where the broom was.
And you couldn’t help the small smile pulled across your features, both at Taylor and the sight of the cats staring safely at you from the kitchen archway.
You would tolerate baking if it was with Taylor.
*****
March, 2016
If you’ve got a girlfriend, I’m jealous of her. But if you’re single it’s honestly worse.
You were never good at sneaking. You hadn’t even tried in high school because you knew you would be caught, and after you moved out, there was no one to sneak from.
Your North Carolina roommate didn’t care how late you were out. She barely even spoke to you at all.
You were pretty sure she hated you, but which of your Courage teammates didn’t?
Maybe the newfound freedom made you wreckless, or maybe you just didn’t care about changing your behavior when you were visiting your sister in Florida.
But whatever the case, Alex was waiting for you when you stepped back into her house, her arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face.
Part of you wondered if she had been standing there all night, or if she heard the door of your UBER shut and came down to greet you. You wondered if they turned the porch light on as soon as they got home, or if you just hadn’t noticed it when the car pulled up.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
You slowly turned towards her, kicking off your shoes, neatly placing them in the rack by the door, and pulling your sweatshirt over your head. “Out? Why?”
“It’s almost 2 am,” She grit out, her eyes flashing dangerously, but it did nothing to dissuade you.
You shrugged, hanging your sweatshirt on the hook right next to her. “I got distracted”
She scoffed, following you as you tried to brush past her. “You didn’t call or text, I was worried sick about you,”
You rolled your eyes.
It wasn’t like you texted her often anyway. The two of you barely spoke as it was, nothing besides Hey how was your day messages and one-word responses on your end.
It was weird to you that she was still trying to look after you. That she was still trying to be the protective older sister, when clearly your relationship had evolved.
You weren’t the toddler crawling after her wherever she went, or the 4-year-old tripping over every soccer ball she passed you.
You were a just barely adult trapped in the shadows of everyone’s expectation of you.
“OK mom, chill out. I was just… busy,” You snarked, wiggling your fingers at her as you headed towards the kitchen. “I had my hands full,”
She made a face at you.
There had been a time when she was more like your mom than your mom was. A time when you were closer to her than anyone else.
Now it felt like she barely knew you.
“Just your hands? I thought you had more game than that,” Kelley said from the couch.
“Trust me, I do,” You cackled, fist-bumping Kelley as you passed her, headed for the kitchen.
“Don’t encourage her,” Alex grumbled, nudging her as they both followed after you.
You again rolled your eyes, pulling out one of the stools at the island, settling into it, and running your hand through your wild curls. “Chill out Al, I made it here, ok?”
You didn’t like it when your hookups messed with your hair, but it seemed everyone was obsessed with it.
“Good argument kid,” Kelley chortled, grabbing a plate of rock shaped objects from next to the stove and holding them out to you. “Cookie?”
Your nose scrunched at the offered items, but you took one anyway, letting your shoulders relax as the tension between you and Alex mellowed.
She had been acting as referee for the two of you for a very long time, almost as long as they had been dating, and she was an expert at this point. It helped that you would open up to her more than you ever would to Alex.
You knew your sister and her girlfriend didn’t like your… relaxation method, but as long as your partner was into it and you were into it, you didn’t see a problem. It was better than some of the things you could be doing.
“You know, eventually you’re going to have to stop this,” Alex muttered, sitting down at the counter beside you.
“Why?” You asked, examining the cookie.
She laid her phone on the counter and slid it towards you, “Because the team aren’t the only people who have picked up on it now,”
You glanced down at the device.
It was a Twitter feed of pictures of you and the girl you had just left. You reached out and scrolled, frowning when you saw all of the text tweets below it.
@randomy/nfan: it’s unfair how ridiculously hot she is.
@randomy/nfan2: no one needs to wipe their face that many times during a game
@randomy/nfan: Did you see how she stuck her tongue out each time she ran her hand through her hair? It should be criminal.
@randomy/nfan3: she totally winked at me after she gave me her jersey. Too bad I wasn’t the one she took home after.
@randomy/nfan5: can confirm she winked after she took her jersey off. She even flexed for the photo.
@SoccerUpdates: Y/n Morgan spotted with Orlando rookie Sam Witterman after the game.
“The fans need to mind their own fucking business,” You grumbled, sliding her phone back. “I didn’t flex for her either,”
Alex raised an eyebrow at you. “If it wasn’t for her, who was it for? Because Sam wasn’t even paying attention,”
You looked back at the cookie, using it to hide the sudden heat in your cheeks. “I’m an adult and I can do whoever or whatever I want,”
You hadn’t been flexing for the fan. You had been flexing in case your favorite singer was watching the game like she said she would be.
It was frustrating how obsessed the media was with you sometimes. The fans didn’t know the line between who you were on the field and in interviews and who you were off the field. They didn’t understand the concept of privacy.
“You can,” Kelley agreed, ignoring the glare Alex sent her way. “But aren’t you concerned that you give a part of yourself away each time you sleep with someone?”
Your shoulders lifted and then fell. “It’s not like I receive,”
“What?” Kelley frowned.
“Half the time, I don’t even take my pants off. It’s not like they notice,” You mumbled, taking a bite of the cookie and wrinkling your nose at the crumbly texture of oats and coconut. “Why is everything in your house vegan?”
“I never pegged you as a stone top,” Kelley breathed out, shaking her head. “And my cookies are vegan because your sister is vegan and enjoys being able to eat the things I make,”
“You just don’t like that she won’t let you kiss her when you’ve had anything that actually tastes good,” You hummed, taking another bite of the too-dry cookie. “It’s just easier,”
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed, a warning bell sounding in the back of her mind. “Easier?”
You nodded, swallowing the sand-like texture in your mouth. “It’s hard to find clothes in the dark without waking anyone up, and that makes sneaking out more difficult,”
“You don’t even stay long enough to say goodbye?” Alex grimaced.
“No,” You said dismissively, reaching for another cookie and taking a bite. “Then they’d have a chance to try and get me to stay,”
Alex could only stare at you, wondering where the shy kid who had been terrified to ask your high school crush out went. When had you gone from sweet and reserved to a Fuck boy who didn’t even tell the person they were sleeping with goodbye?
“Jesus,” She scoffed, running a palm across her face. “You’re only 18, you shouldn’t be participating in hookup culture,”
“Like you weren’t when you were at Berkeley,” Kelley chuckled. “Y/n is just having her frat boy era without a frat. Let the kid live,”
“Yeah Alex, let me live,” You intoned, copying Kelley.
Alex glared at the side of your head, much like she did when you were young and being a brat. “Fine then. Was she good?”
You tilted your chin toward her incredulously. “You really want to hear about my hookup?”
“Well you wanted me to let you live,” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. The stance that always made younger you cower. “So tell me, was she good? Did you enjoy yourself?”
You raised an eyebrow at her, staring for a long second before shrugging and taking another bite of your cookie. “She was fine, like the others,”
“Just fine?”
“Her nails were really long, so she gorged my back,” You said, turning and pulling the collar of your shirt down so she could see the angry red marks at the top of your back. “I was worried I was going to bleed all over my shirt,”
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You had to be the good one to get marks like that, and the idea that you were… talented in that area almost made her want to vomit. As did the notion that your… skills probably came from… practice.
Lots of practice.
“So you ditched us for a just fine hookup?” Kelley asked, and it made the guilt bubble in your stomach.
That was the only good part about playing Orlando… that you got to spend time with your sister (something that was rare after she left you for Berkeley).
It was the only real hope you saw at mending the bridge that covered the crater that her departure left in your relationship.
And you sighed, sinking on the stool, your shoulders hunching. “I didn’t think I was going to be out as late as I was. I’m sorry,”
“Ok, but why go for a hookup anyway?” Alex asked, her hand finding your back and rubbing circles.
You took another bite of your cookie, chewing it slowly and swallowing hard.
You weren’t sure you wanted to open up. That you wanted to accept her comfort or her touch, but pushing her away felt… cruel.
“Paul is trading me to Chicago. He said I’m not progressing, and I don’t fit his scheme. I went out because I needed to blow off some steam. I found out right before the game,”
The words felt like lead in your mouth. He hadn’t even had the guts to tell you himself. Instead, you found out from your manager, with his comments on your performance.
“That sucks,” Kelley reached across the island to take your hand.
“Paul is a fucking asshole,” Alex grit out, her hand falling from your back. “You’re better off honestly,”
There was something else in her voice that you couldn’t quite place.
“Chicago is going to be lethal with you and Chris,” Kelley hummed, squeezing you three times, before turning towards the cabinets and pulling out a plastic bag. “These have eggs and milk. I made them for you. You deserve it.”
You instantly dropped the cookie in your hand and reached for the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip goodness. “Why didn’t you pull these out sooner?”
“Because you snuck into our house at 1:30 am,” Kelley shrugged, leaning on the counter. “After ditching us,”
“I wasn’t trying to ditch you,” You mumbled, pulling a cookie out of the bag and biting into it. Your eyes slid closed as the chocolaty peanut butter played across your tongue.
They were nearly as good as the ones Taylor had made you the last time you saw her.
“You were just trying to get laid so you could forget your problems,” Alex finished for you, frowning. You rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone out from your back pocket and snapping a picture of the cookies.
Alex sighed heavily, reaching over and brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. “I just worry about you,”
She promised your parents and older sisters she would look after you when you decided to forgo college and join the league(even if the 2 of you weren’t as close as you once were). She didn’t think letting you sleep your way through the teams was healthy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign of something deeper going on with you.
You were always so shy growing up. Even after you told them that you were into women, you had never been so… overt with your interactions. You were so sweet with the girl you took to your senior prom, so nervous around any girl you really liked.
She wasn’t sure when that changed.
“I’m doing fine,” You said, taking another bite of the cookie. “You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t,”
“Promise?” She asked you, more softly.
Every time she looked at you, she would see the tiny 4-year-old running after her, telling her you were fine after you skinned your knee or elbow. Or 7-year-old you swearing you were good to go after you broke your arm surfing a too-big wave.
“With my pinky,”
You held your finger up for good effect, and she linked hers with yours.
“You guys are disgustingly adorable,” Kelley hummed, sliding you a glass of milk. “Now eat up, I want to actually sleep tonight,”
OoOoOoO
Twitter wasn’t one of Taylor’s favorite social media apps. It was a pit of anxiety-inducing posts and hateful opinions, and she genuinely made an effort to stay away.
But after watching your soccer game, she couldn’t help herself.
It had been a humid night in Florida (according to the commentary team). You kept lifting your shirt to wipe the sweat out of your eyes, and your curls had been wild by the end of the second half.
The grainy stream hadn’t been clear enough for her. It hadn’t done your abs justice so Taylor had relented to the bird app. To pictures taken by people who were actually at the stadium, and things spiraled from there.
It should have made her feel… shameful that she was scrolling through photos of you, looking for one that showed the moment you lifted your shirt and maybe when you gave your jersey away. She should feel bad that she was looking for the moment you put your abs on full display.
But she didn't.
She had been slightly obsessed since you sent her a bathroom mirror picture after the game the US had played against Canada, your shirt pulled up to your chin to show off the perfect impression of a cleat on your skin. And getting to see them in person in her kitchen had only made things worse.
Maybe it was slightly more than slightly…
If you didn’t want her to look, you certainly wouldn’t have sent her the picture, but still. With the parade of women that always seemed to be surrounding you, she wasn’t sure that you had really given it that much thought.
She sighed, scrolling through the feed, pausing on a picture that had been taken of you after the game.
She really shouldn’t be this invested in you, not when your reputation was that of a player.
She didn’t want to be played. Not again.
But you were different with her. You weren’t the arrogant soccer player posing for photos, or winking at fans. You were sweet and charming and it took almost no effort to make you blush.
And… she groaned, swiping to the next picture.
Your arm was slung low across a girl's back as you guided her into a car, a wide smirk pulling at your lips. It left nothing of your plans to the imagination, but maybe that’s why you had done it.
You wanted to world to think you were a fuck boy. You wanted them to believe that you had an impenetrable shell.
She rolled her eyes.
She knew differently.
That didn’t mean that it didn’t send jealousy through her veins when she saw the pictures, even if she didn’t really have the right to be jealous.
She sighed again, scrolling past the pictures.
At least she knew that you were still technically single (though that might have actually been worse).
Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she grabbed the message from the top of the screen.
It was a picture of a bag of cookies.
Soccer Hottie: Kelley made me cookies. They weren’t as good as yours
She smiled at the screen, her jealousy melting. Though she was slightly disappointed a picture of your face hadn’t been included.
I can make you more when you visit me
Soccer Hottie: I’d like that 😘. I’ll have to check my schedule.
At least she got a part of you that none of your hookups did. She got to see the things you cared about. She got to see your likes and dislikes.
That was more than any of your hookups would ever get, and that made it easier to be your friend.
*****
June 2016
I watched from a distance as you Made life your own
“You know I hate this game,” You sighed, resting your chin on your hand and staring at the Scrabble board.
It was the same expression you made when you stared at the stupid app Taylor made you download so you could play her, except no one was ever there to heckle you while you tried to figure out what your next move should be.
She also didn’t rush you or set a timer so you couldn’t take all day.
“It’s better than Monopoly,” Emily shrugged, extending her legs so her feet were resting in Rose’s lap. “Last time we played there was a fistfight,”
Rose hummed, squeezing Emily’s foot and shifting the tiles on her little ledge. “That’s why we switched to monopoly deal,”
Board games were a staple during the downtime at camp, and this one was no different. With Rose (and Emily by default since they started dating) as your roommate(s), you had been roped into a quick Scrabble game while you all waited for team bonding.
She reached out and placed 4 of her pieces, forming the word Focus around your word Cracker.
You frowned. You had been planning to make the word cutter, but now your c was gone and there was no way for you to connect to Emily’s R on the other side (though you weren’t sure exactly what word she had created considering the two center letters kept flipping in your head).
You liked Monopoly better. It didn’t make your head hurt so much.
Plus it was one of the few games where you always kicked Alex’s ass.
“I still think you two have an unfair advantage over me,” you muttered, puffing out your cheek and pulling out your phone. You smiled as you scrolled to a very familiar contact.
Emily’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Leveling the playing field,” You shot her a wide smirk, as the ringing of the FaceTime app stopped and the little boop that meant your favorite person had answered sounded through the room. “Hey Scrabble queen,”
“Hey, what’s up?” Her lips ticked up in a smile that she only used when she was with you, and you saw an unfamiliar painting and a microphone behind her.
She must be at the studio.
You knew she was working on an album, though you’d been reluctant to hear any spoilers. You didn’t want to hear about a new… love interest. You didn’t think you could take it, and you needed to focus if the team was going to do well at the Olympics.
“I need your help,” You pouted at the phone, making your eyes as big and innocent as you could. “Im shitty at scrabble and I don’t want to lose to Rosie and Emily,”
Taylor rolled her eyes at you.
“Hey! Why do you get to phone a friend!?” Emily exclaimed, reaching for the phone, and the semi-familiar voice on the other end. “Is it the person who was with you last time I called?”
You shrugged nonchalantly, shifting so she couldn’t steal your phone without looking at your tiles (thereby disqualifying her). “Because I’m dyslexic,”
“You’re getting better actually. You got a triple word last week,” Taylor said, and your eyes darted back toward her. You hadn’t told her it was really Kelley who saw the triple word yet. “Can you show me the board and your letters please?”
“You didn’t answer my question, is this mystery girl?” Emily cut back in, even as Rose held her foot so she didn’t try to tackle you to see who you had called.
“She’s not a mystery,” You scrunched your nose and flipped the camera, giving Taylor a good view of the board. “She’s my friend,”
Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Then what’s her name, you know so we can call her something else?”
“Taylor,” You answered with an easy shrug, not really thinking about it.
You doubted they’d make the connection anyway.
Not unless Taylor said something incriminating, and you doubted she would considering how careful she was.
“Ok, I think I’ve got it. I’ll text you the next couple of moves,” Taylor said, looking sideways over the phone and nodding. “I’ll talk to you later, I’ve gotta go,”
“Thank you!” You flipped the camera around and sent her a goofy smile.
“Anytime,” She mirrored your smile and blew you a little kiss. “Talk to you later babe,”
You caught the kiss and waved, staring at the phone for a very long second even after it had gone back to your Lock Screen.
It made your chest feel warm that even when she was busy, she answered your calls. That she always made time for you.
“If she’s your friend, then you have one hell of a crush,” Emily said, drawing you back to the moment.
You blinked back up at the pair, the warm feeling in your chest replaced with sudden anxiety. “What?”
“She called you babe,” Rose supplied, her voice very soft like she was afraid to startle you.
They all knew of your… reluctance to settle down, and she couldn’t help but feel like there was a deeper reason behind it that they were all overlooking.
Emily snorted, not catching the hesitance in Rose's voice. “And you stared at the phone after you hung up for a solid 30 seconds,”
Red immediately flooded your cheeks, and your hand clenched at your side. “We’re just friends,”
Even if you enjoyed the flirting and your feelings were slowly surpassing the boundaries of friendship. She would never want someone like you.
You were just a kid compared to her, bumbling your way through your career and fucking it up at every turn.
Plus she was straight.
It was too cliche for you to handle.
“Ok,” Rose conceded, shooting Emily a very serious look to not push you more.
It never turned out well when they pushed.
“It’s still your turn,” Emily said, her voice also going soft, gesturing towards the scrabble board. “Let’s see how good the mystery Taylor really is,”
You hummed, pulling up the text, and ignoring the little Good luck 😜 that accompanied her instructions.
Your tongue made its way between your teeth as you read the step-by-step text, each letter separated by a double space, and you slowly reached for the letter tiles and slid them into place, forming the word Resonate with the help of two of Emily’s words and one of Roses.
“Ha, a quadrupole word,” You cheered, typing out a thank you text to Taylor as Emily groaned.
Rose rolled her eyes, still smiling softly at you.“And let me guess, it’s the easiest one she sent you?”
She hadn’t seen you this… engaged in a long time. She hadn’t seen you so… happy, not since you started playing at North Carolina, and she hadn’t seen you show more interest than a quick one-night stand.
“Yep,” You popped the p and smiled wickedly at them. “read it and weep losers,”
“You’re only winning because of the mystery scrabble queen,” Emily pouted. “What, does she have an entire empire made of word blocks too?”
“She’s not a fucking mob boss. She’s just a friend, and I told you, it’s fair because it levels the playing field,” You shrugged, failing to mention that the butterflies Taylor sent swirling in your chest were much more than friendly.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t beaten you each time you played this game before. “Now make your move before I sic the time turtle on you and you have to draw a wicked wango card,”
Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Since when did you watch Friends?
“Yeah! I thought you hated anything remotely scripted besides superhero movies and Indiana Jones?” Emily added, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s how you get out of literally every movie bonding night,”
Your shoulders lifted and fell, and red bled into your cheeks.
You hadn’t really minded the comedy eating kettle corn with Taylor in a massive pillow fort, though Meredith and Olivia pawing at your bowl while Taylor pouted at their adamant ignoral of her had made it all worth it (they had been very unhappy about the quick baths she made them take because they were covered in flour from your little food fight).
Plus you thought that Bamboozled was probably the only game show that wouldn’t put you to sleep (you agreed with Joey that it wasn’t that complicated).
“Friends doesn’t really have a plot,” You muttered, looking down at your phone and moving your tiles around so you didn’t have to think about your next move. “And it’s funny so it’s not so bad,”
Rose made a low noise, poking Emily with her toes, telling her not to push.
She had a feeling that your sudden interest in the show had more to do with who you were watching it with than the comedy. And she wouldn’t be the one to meddle in what was your first real relationship.
She wouldn’t let Emily either.
The wrath that would meet them from all the vets and your older sister was not something she wanted to deal with.
“Come on Sonny, make your move,”
******
July 2016
But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away
2016 was the summer of the apocalypse.
There was no other way to put it.
You never thought a singular PK could turn your team and the rest of the world against you. But it did.
You only got to play the last 10 minutes of the game, and your only job was to make the penalty.
But you missed it. Badly.
Jill made it clear before you were even back in the locker room that you would need to earn your way back. Roary had benched you as soon as you returned to Chicago. But the worst was the media, and the slew of hate that had been unleashed on you the second your foot left the ball.
It rivaled the hate Hope was getting, and that was saying something.
You blew out a long breath, took another swig of your lukewarm beer and slowly kicked the ball back toward the PK spot.
One of the few benefits to Chicago was that the high school soccer field was within walking distance from your shitty apartment. The other was that the high school soccer field stayed open all night and had good lighting.
You took another swig before gently setting the bottle next to four of its already empty friends, and setting up for the kick. It should have concerned you that the ball was slightly blurry, or that you were a bit wobbly on your feet, but it didn’t.
Not when you so clearly saw your path to regaining your future.
You rolled your neck, squaring your shoulders and looking from the ball to the net. You could imagine the thousands of people screaming, and the keeper jockeying in her line, waiting for you.
You took another breath, leaning forward. You shuffled your feet, starting the countdown in your head.
5
4
3
2
But just before you got to 1, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling your focus from the upper right corner of the net just as you fell into step for the pk. The ball connected with your foot at the wrong angle, and was sent flying into the stands instead of towards goal.
“Fuck,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair and pulling the offending device from your back pocket.
Blondie👱🏻♀️🎤: Hey, you ok? They said you weren’t on the bench, but didn’t give a reason.
You couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at your lips when you saw Taylor’s contact on your Home Screen, even if you had to squint to make out her message.
She was one of the only people who was still talking to you after the Olympics. One of your only friends who hadn’t ditched you.
She liked you for you, and what you did on the pitch didn’t change that. Maybe that was why you were so drawn to her. Why the hangouts had gotten more frequent?
Maybe you just liked hanging out with her.
You took three steps back towards your drinks, plopping down and grabbing your beer.
I’m good. Cosch bwndnwd me bdcajwe hd thihls I zuck.
You swallowed the last of the sudsy liquid as you hit send, lining it up with the others and reaching for a new one as 3 little dots appeared.
Blondie 👱🏻♀️🎤: ???
You sighed, cracking the bottle open with your cleat and typing out your response. Your fingers slipped across the screen, and it took you a second to find the send button.
Hd said I’k not aolowed badk pn the vrncn until I deserve to bd a profrsakonal spcver player abIN/
The message instantly went to read, but the three little dots didn’t appear again.
You shrugged, taking a long sip of your beer (nearly downing the entire thing) before you placed the bottle next to its partners and began to kick a new ball toward the penalty spot, your phone dangling dangerously between your fingers.
You let out a long breath, lining up for the shot, your eyes lifting from the fuzzy ball to the equally fuzzy net.
But your phone buzzed in your hand before you could step into the kick. You lazily held it up to your face, clicking the accept button when you saw the FaceTime logo.
“Whad upp T-Swizzle,” You smiled dopily at Taylor’s face as she appeared on the screen, the stadium lights glinting off of your glassy eyes.
“Hey, are you ok? Your texts were kinda crazy,” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing with worry at your slurred speech.
“‘M great!” You cheered, spinning in place as if to show how great you were.
Her frown deepened. “You sound drunk?”
You rapidly shook your head. “‘M nottt,” Your voice caught on the last t, and you quietly stared at her for a long second before your dopey smile was back. “‘M practicin’ PKs. Wanna see?”
“No, Y/n,” She said, trying to sound stern. But it was too late, you had already flipped the camera around to face the goal.
“Those arrr the ones I made,” You slurred, the camera shaking violently as you tried to focus on each of the balls that had made it to the back of the net.
The camera then suddenly jerked, panning towards the bleachers. “And those arr the ones I missed. I missed a lot. I suckkkk,”
Several balls were haphazardly strewn across a set of rusting bleachers and lying by a dilapidated fence. But what really caught Taylor’s attention was a silver and gold cardboard box and a pile of empty bottles sitting at the gate.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew that things had been difficult for you, but she never expected you to get drunk and go to a random field at night. Or to make your way through a case of beer like she was sure you had. “Y/n turn the camera around,”
It took you a second to flip the camera back around, but your now somber face met her when you finally got it.
She tried not to think about how adorable your pout was (an expression you rarely ever used when you were sober).
“How many beers have you had?” She asked you seriously.
“Few?” you shrugged, squinting towards where the box was and biting your lip. “Almost gone,”
“I can see that,” She breathed out, trying to stay calm. “How big of a pack did you buy?”
Your grin returned, and you threw your arms out wide, spinning in a circle. “The biggggest,”
“Y/n,” Taylor sighed again, waiting for you to get back in frame. “Where are you? I’m gonna send a car to pick you up,”
“No. I gotta clean up annd practice so I can play,” You said, looking away from the camera, biting your lip. “I gotta nooot suckkk,”
“You don’t suck,” Taylor said, already pulling up her contacts. “Tell me where you are, and I will help you clean up before the car arrives,”
The line went quiet for a long second, and she looked up to see your eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t sure if you were just trying to think, or if you were trying not to cry (it was hard to tell with how red and glassy your eyes were).
“Y/n?”
“I don’ suck?” Your bottom lip wobbled.
She shook her head.
“No. You missed a shot. It happens to everyone,” She repeated your own words back to you, ones she had heard you speak hundreds of times. Ones she meant with all of her heart. “Now tell me where you are. I’m worried about you,”
You buzzed your lips. “The high school field by my apartment,”
“Ok,” She said, feeling the knot in her chest loosen as she scrolled through her contacts and sent a frantic text to her security. Jason would send someone to get you. Someone who would keep you safe. “I have someone coming to get you,”
“I gotta clean up,” You poked your bottom lip out, stumbling over to the ball bag and struggling to get it open one-handed.
“I’ll stay on the line with you while you do,” Taylor said, keeping her voice soothing, and calm, even as she sent more frantic texts to her security and assistant moving her schedule around for the next few days. “And Tony will help once he gets there,”
You paused, from where you were sloppily gathering up balls and looked at the camera with wide eyes. “Iron man?”
Taylor resisted the urge to roll her eyes or coo at the adorable expression (though she did store it away in her memory bank for later recollection). “No, not the same Tony,”
You frowned, stumbling towards the stands and using a foot using push the balls to the bottom so you could gather them.
You tripped as you stepped up onto the silver seating, intent on getting the stray ball you had sailed to the top of the stands. “Nashatasha wass cuter anyway,”
“Yeah,” Taylor said slowly,her eyes scrunching as you nearly tumbled down the open side of the bleachers. “Why don’t you sit down? Tony is almost there to help you anyway. He can get the rest of the balls,”
All she needed was for you to fall out of the stands and hurt yourself.
Your tongue poked between your teeth like you were thinking before the phone shook violently as you plopped down onto the bleachers and rested your chin on your hand. “Kay,”
She blew out a breath as you blinked lazily at her. “Don’t worry, Tony will be there soon,”
She said the words for herself as much as she said them for you. She didn’t like the idea of you being drunk and alone on a random high school field in the middle of the night.
She needed you to be safe, and ok. It was a protective instinct that curled around her chest in a way that it had only for one other person.
Tony would be there soon, and they would get you back to your apartment and she would be able to breathe again.
OoOoOoOo
“Alright, I think I’ve got her all settled,” A salt and pepper-haired man said, as he tucked your Arsenal blanket under your chin as you snorted softly on the couch. His mirror-finish aviators hung from his v-neck shirt, something more casual than anything Taylor had ever seen him wear before.
It was a testament to how quickly he had abandoned his vacation to help her (and you by extension), and for that, she would be forever grateful.
“Thank you, Tony,” She said softly, keeping her voice down so she didn’t wake you. “Really,”
“It’s no problem ma’am,” He waved her off, his southern drawl calming whatever worry was still left in her chest. “I was happy to help when Jason contacted me, and Ms. Morgan is a very cooperative drunk,”
You had been incredibly well-behaved when Tony arrived, allowing him to guide you into the back of the SUV and then giving him your apartment address and your keys with no arguments. You didn’t even complain when he basically carried you up the stairs because you were too wobbly to walk. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was on the phone with you, or if you were just too tired to fight.
“Hopefully we don’t have more of these encounters to compare it against,” Taylor said, glancing at the text from her personal assistant. “Casey texted me, my plane is ready, so I should be there fairly soon,”
Tony made a low noise of agreement, placing a glass of water and an Advil on the coffee table next to your sleeping form, and taking a few steps back to sit on one of the stools, shifting so he could check that the three distinct dog bowls below him also had water.
The three huskies had refused to leave your side as soon as he got you laid down on the couch.
“I’ll stay outside her door until you arrive in case there are any issues,” Tony said, looking around your tiny apartment yet again to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he could do so that you would be comfortable when you woke up. “Would you like to stay on the line?”
Taylor nodded. “That would be great,”
Even though he was there, she wanted to stay too. She needed to be present in case you woke up. She didn’t want you to feel alone, especially when it seemed your team had abandoned you.
Tony stood, plugging in your phone and setting it up on the coffee table so that Taylor had a clear view of your sleeping face.
“I’ll be just outside the door, and my phone is on in case you need me,” He said, squatting so he could look into the camera, and send her a small smile. “I’ll see you when you get here,”
She sent him a wave as he disappeared, leaving the two of you alone (save for the gray huskie who had wiggled under your arm and the black one who was curled up behind your head).
She let out a long breath, watching the slow rise and fall of the edge of your Arsenal blanket.
You looked so young in your sleep.
You were young, she had to remind herself. You were barely 19, even if you wanted to act like you were so much older. Even if you had more responsibilities and people scrutinizing you than most other people your age.
You shifted, pulling the blanket closer to your face, one eye sleepily blinking open.
“Tay?”
She hummed, keeping her voice soft. “Yeah, I’m still here,”
You shifted, wrapping your arm tighter around the gray husky in your arms.
“Don’t ever leave,” You murmured the words into the dog's fur so softly that Taylor almost didn’t hear them. “I like you too much. Even if I don’t deserve you,”
“I like you too,” She smiled gently at the words that sent butterflies swirling in her chest. “Go back to sleep,”
She had liked you too for a very long time, even if she was still hesitant to admit it.
“Noooo,” You pouted, forcing your eyes further open to look at her. They were breathtakingly blue, just like your older sisters. “I like you like Alex likes Kelley, but I’m not supposed to. You’re too good,”
Her eyebrows furrowed.
Why weren’t you supposed to like her? What did you mean that she was too good?
“And you’re straight,” You added, shifting so your nose was hiding behind the dog in your arms.
“You can like me Y/n,” She murmured, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush your messy curls from in front of your sleepy eyes. “I like you too,”
It wouldn’t be worth it to argue with your assumption of her sexuality now anyway. You were too drunk to remember in the morning.
Your eyes blinked open wider in an adorable doe-eyed expression. “Really?”
“Yes,” She nodded, her lips ticking up impossibly more at your adorableness. “Now sleep. I’ll see you soon,”
You made a low noise, your eyes sliding closed as you snuggled your nose into the dog under your arm.
She waited for your breathing to even out, (and several minutes after that) before she clicked off the call to catch her flight. She could watch your sleep for the rest of your lives, and still not get enough.
She wondered if you were dreaming of her, or of soccer balls and shots that you didn’t miss. Or maybe you were dreaming of a world where one kick didn’t have your teammates and friends turning their backs on you.
Maybe one day she would ask you.
OoOoOoO
The first thing you noticed as you came into consciousness was that your mouth felt like it was full of cotton and your head felt like Ashlyn had used it as a ball during punting practice, or like Megan had used it to practice her perfect PKs.
You groaned, shifting on the couch, accidentally displacing the three dogs that had cuddled in around you at some point.
You had no idea why you were sleeping on the couch, instead of in the king-sized bed you had purchased so the 4 of you had room.
Come to think of it, you didn’t actually remember how you got here.
The last thing you remembered was cracking open your 4th beer and gathering your balls so you could shoot more penalties. You didn’t exactly like how the sudsy liquid tasted, but it did an excellent job at dulling the ache in your chest that had settled as soon as you took that fucking PK.
The ache that went ignored by your sister and your teammates who were too wrapped up in their own grief to even check on you.
You groaned, running a hand through your hair. At least you remembered to close the blinds, and put out Advil and water for yourself?
You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes when your apartment spun around you, and pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose.
Three cold noses nudged your skin, and you slowly worked your eyes open and reached for the tall glass.
“I’m ok guys,” You mumbled towards the three dogs sending you worried looks and took a large sip of the still-cool water. “It’s like when I give you guys too many treats,”
The gray huskie on your left wined, butting her head into your arm. You reached over with your free hand to scratch behind her ear. “I’m ok Art, nothing a good cup of coffee can’t fix,”
The red dog to your left also nudged you and you rolled your eyes, setting the glass down so you could scratch his head too, and you eyed the black dog still contently cuddled into your left leg.
He was always the most chill of the floof pack, happy to just be in your presence.
You would be happy to stay here all day. To let them love away the empty feeling that lingered after you like a bad cough.
You blinked as a knock sounded at your door, the levity in your chest deflating like a popped balloon.
It was probably one of your teammates coming to scold you for not sitting in the stands at last night's game. For ditching it instead of taking your punishment.
The knock sounded again, and you blew out a long breath as you forced yourself to your feet. “I’m coming,”
Artemis and Apollo trailed after you, stopping by the counter like they had been trained, and Orion stayed on the couch, watching over the living room like a centennial.
You rolled your eyes at him, running a hand through your hair again, trying to at least pretend you were presentable, as you grabbed the door handle (barely even bothered that the deadbolt wasn’t latched)
You froze when you saw a head of blond hair and the bluest eyes you had ever seen instead of one of your teammates.
“Taylor? What are you doing here?” You frowned, opening the door wider with one hand and rubbing your tired eyes with the other, hoping it would quell the dizziness that actually standing brought on. “Don’t you have a recording thing today?”
“I have a recording thing every day,” She said, stepping closer to the door. “You scared the shit out of me and I needed to come to check on you myself,”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
How had you scared her? Did you call her?
“Sorry. I don’t really remember the details of last night,” You opened the door wider, your hand lingering in your curls. “Do you wanna come in?”
Taylor nodded, stepping closer to you. “I’d like that,”
Took a step back, looking behind you towards the dogs.
“The gray one is Artemis and the red one is Apollo. Orion is black and probably hiding out here somewhere, he’s not a big fan of meeting new people,” You gestured towards the husky’s two waiting for their release command. “Do you want to say hello? They won’t jump, but I know you’re more of a cat person,”
She looked over your shoulder, nodding. “Yeah,”
You turned towards the dogs, waving across your waist. “Vale, saluda,”
Art sniffed at you as she pushed herself up and slowly waltzed past you, Apollo close on her tail as they made their way over to Taylor.
She tensed like she expected them to tackle her, but they didn’t. Apollo politely sniffed at the hand she had extended as Art circled her twice before nudging gently against her leg, asking to be pet.
“They’re so well-behaved,” Taylor said softly, her fingers winding their way into the soft fur of Art’s neck.
“Thanks,” You said, watching carefully as Apollo pressed his into Taylor’s other leg, indicating he wanted to be pet too. “They’re pretty mellow for huskies, as long as they've had their exercise,”
Art paused as Taylor’s other hand began to scratch Apollo's back, and you sighed, pointing away from the two of you. “De,”
Yes, they were well-behaved, but their relationship was also similar to the one you shared with your sister. Apollo liked to rile his older sister up, just like you loved to get a rise out of Alex.
You didn’t think that Taylor would appreciate a play fight breaking out.
Art sniffed at you, but did as you asked, her nails tapping as she trotted off towards the living room with Apollo at her heels.
Maybe they would go find Orion and show him the visitor wasn’t so scary.
“Want a drink?” You asked, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck with one hand and gesturing to the small bar in your kitchen with the other. “I think I have coffee somewhere,”
It was mundane in comparison to Taylor’s full marble kitchen. Small and disheveled on all accounts.
The linoleum blue counter had a crack running down the center and you knew that both wooden stools wobbled dangerously when they weren’t in the right spot. But Taylor didn’t complain as she followed you.
“Coffee would be great,” She hummed, and the stools squeaked as she settled onto one and placed her bag on the other. “I think you could use some too after the night you had,”
You shrugged, turning your back on her, pulling the coffee out of the freezer, and settling up the coffee maker. “What happened last night?”
You didn’t turn to look at her, busying yourself in grabbing 2 coffee mugs and a glass and getting the milk and a carton of orange juice from the fridge. You would have offered her a glass too, but considering how often you drank directly from the carton, you didn’t think it was a good idea.
“Well,” She drew out the word, and you felt her eyes on you as you moved through the kitchen. “I texted you because you weren’t on the bench, and you responded mostly with self-deprecating gibberish, so I called you,”
You made a low noise in the back of your throat, grabbing your sugar jar and sliding it towards her, but not meeting her eyes. “I was probably a couple beers deep at that point,”
“Just a couple?” You could almost hear her raised eyebrows, and you finally turned to look at her, placing the coffee pot between you.
You shrugged, smiling impishly as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. “A few more than a couple,”
“Try a 24-pack,” Taylor scoffed, pouring herself her own cup of coffee. “You’re lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning,”
You set your coffee on the counter, sucking all the warmth you could from your mug, your blasé mask cracking.
“I didn’t drink it all last night,” You said, finally meeting her eyes. “I only had like 13 left,”
She sighed, reaching out and catching your hand. “Still,”
You paused, blowing out a very long breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you fly all the way out here and waste a day,”
Her eyebrows furrowed at the end of your sentence. The rapid turn in conversation.
“I’m not wasting anything,” She said slowly. “You obviously needed someone and I’m happy I could be here for you,”
You grimaced. You didn’t deserve to have someone there for you.
You were the one who fucked up the team. The one who ruined everything.
“Hey,” Taylor squeezed your hand again, drawing your eyes back to her, like she could read your thoughts. “No time I spend with you is a waste,”
Red flooded your cheeks, up to your ears, and you tried to hide it with a sip of your too-hot coffee.
She smiled gently at you, looking at the microwave clock behind you. “But we can talk about that later. You have to get ready for practice,”
“I’m not going,” You scoffed, taking another sip. “There’s no point,”
“Y/n, avoiding practice isn’t going to fix what’s happening,” She said, her voice patient. “It’ll only make it worse,”
A dark look crossed your features.
“It can’t get worse,” You said, your voice too calm. Too dangerous. “I’ve already been told I won’t be fielding for the rest of the season, and Mallory Pugh has been called into camp to replace me. My soccer career is over at the ripe old age of 19,”
Despite your efforts to hide it, she could still hear the misery in your voice. The utter defeat.
Her head tilted to the side, and she took a strategic sip of her coffee. “I thought you didn’t lose?”
You shook your head. “This is different,”
You couldn’t fight the system. Not when it was so dead set on driving you out.
If only you could be like your perfect older sister.
“Is it though?” She asked, too nonchalantly. “Prove them wrong. Show up and shove it in their faces,”
You sighed. You knew exactly what she was doing. You always responded better to challenges than to comfort.
Plus if you left, you weren’t sure Taylor would be here when you returned, and you preferred spending time with her over a useless practice anyway.
“And I’ll be waiting here for you after practice,” She added as if sensing one of the reasons for your hesitation. “We can grab some dinner and hang out. But first, you need to go kick some ass. It’ll make you feel better anyway,”
You took another long sip of your coffee, before nodding begrudging.
She was right. Skipping practice would only make things worse, even if going would suck anyway.
OoOoOoO
“Rough night?” Christen smirked at you, bumping your shoulder as you jogged onto the practice field, fixing your practice jersey.
You shrugged, sending the striker a half smile. “Something like that,”
She caught the collar of your practice jersey, peeking at the skin underneath it. “I don’t see any hickeys so it couldn’t have been too bad,”
You batted her hand away, unable to stop the smile that accompanied your rolled eyes. “I don’t have any. I didn’t hook up last night,”
She raised her eyebrow at you.
It was rare you skipped a team thing unless it was for a girl, even when you weren’t on the bench. She knew that you had been bedhopping more to cope with the loss at the Olympics and the tenuous situation with both the national team and Chicago that you found yourself in.
She supposed it was a way for you to distract yourself, even if she didn’t think it was what was best for you.
“Roary was pissed you weren’t at the game,” She said instead of pushing. You were an adult, and what you did off the field was really none of her business.
“I know,” You mumbled, stepping into line behind Huerta, scratching the back of your neck, a strange look crossing your face. “I already had a meeting with him. It’s why I missed activation,”
Christen frowned. “He wasn’t too hard on you, was he?”
He had a reputation for being… abrasive, and Christen was aware of how many times he had been so with you.
You shrugged again. It wasn’t like Christen could do something about how awful he was. Plus you knew Christen would report anything you said right back to Alex.
“No more than usual,” You said, sounding uninterested. “We actually talked about how I’ve improved since coming back from Rio,”
While he had assigned you 8 laps after practice, overall the meeting hadn’t gone as badly as you feared. Considering how awful the Red Stars were performing with you not even allowed on the bench, you shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was sticking you back in the starting 11 for the midweek game.
So despite his critique of your personality and playing style, he had conceded that Chicago scored more when you were on the field to service Christen. You would take it as a win.
Christen’s eyebrows furrowed, not quite believing you. “That’s good I guess,”
You made a low noise, watching Sofia run the drill so you knew what was happening.
It was a simple give-and-go with the midfielders, and a shot on goal.
It would be easy.
And frankly, it was easy.
Your fingers wiggled as you watched Sofia launch the ball just over the crossbar, waiting for the goalkeepers to swap so the striking coach would send you the ball.
You let yourself sink into the drill, and just as he passed you the ball, it was like your brain turned off. You easily tapped it to Colaprico, skirting around Krueger and turning just in time to receive the through ball the midfielder sent back.
It only took a little flick of your heel to get past Naeher, and send the ball into the back of the net, and head to the back of the other line with little fanfare.
“Nice shot,” JJ reached out her hand for a low five as you passed her, and you tilted your chin at her as you passed, a smile playing on your lips.
Taylor had been right, playing did make you feel better.
And you didn’t have to think about the butterflies her presence sent flying in your stomach.
“Maybe you have the Morgan gene after all,” Roary said gruffly, stepping onto the practice pitch, his hand landing heavily on your shoulder.
Your back went straight and the hint of a smile slid off your face.
“I might be able to make an acceptable attacking midfielder of you yet,” He continued, oblivious to how rigid your posture was.
Christen cleared her throat, casually stepping between the two of you and forcing him to let go. “That was a really good goal. I bet you and Al could make that work for the national team too,”
“Hm,” You made a low noise of agreement, looking away from her.
You didn’t want to say that with your reputation, you doubted you would ever get a call up again. You were pretty sure Jill already blacklisted you anyway.
“We’ll have to see about that,” Roary chuckled, and his hand found your shoulder again, squeezing tightly. “A few extra film sessions could help,”
A shiver ran down your spine. You hated film sessions, especially with Roary, but you nodded anyway.
It wasn’t like you had a choice. Roary always got what he wanted.
He squeezed your shoulder one more time before heading off to harass someone else, but you knew he would be back. You were one of his favorite targets.
“You know you don’t have to do sessions with him,” Christen said when he was out of earshot, and you looked away.
She could never understand that you couldn’t say no to him. That your precariousness with both the Red Stars and the USWNT meant that you couldn’t piss off a coach. It meant that you were at his mercy, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
“He’s an asshole, but he has some good insights,” You said, watching as JJ ran the opposite side of the drill with Huerta.
Christen used a finger under your chin to force you to look back at her. “That’s not what I asked you,”
“I know Chris,” You said with too much force, jerking away from her. “I can handle Dames. Right now, I need all the help I can get to show Jill that I deserve my fucking spot. If he wants to help, then so be it,”
She paused, her hand still hovering in the air where your chin had been.
“Ok,” She said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing while she tried to decipher your overreaction. “I just wanted to make sure,”
You swallowed hard, moving up in line. “I know. Sorry, I snapped. I was up late,”
Her lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “Ah yes, you got fucked to get over how Roary fucked you out of your starting spot,”
You threw your head back and groaned, red coloring your cheeks as the line around you erupted in giggles.
You would never outlive your… reputation, but that was ok because at least it stopped Christen from asking too many questions. Questions that would make their way back to your sister.
They would never believe that the girl who had distracted you wasn’t one you were currently sleeping with anyway.
“Morgan, you’re up,” The striking coach said, his voice sobering your teammates. “Let’s see if you can do the other half of the drill as well as you did the first,”
You easily stopped the ball he passed your way, winking towards McCaffrey. “I’ll do better. There’s a reason I’m a midfielder after all,”
You would have to thank Taylor for making you practice. She was right, it did make you feel better, and you were on your way to proving why you were one of the best in the world.
OoOoOoO
“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burrito before,” You said, biting into your chicken and queso concoction.
It had been an easy decision to grab Chipotle after practice, one you hadn’t really thought about until the text came through that Taylor didn’t know what to order.
That she had never been to one of your favorite post-practice restaurants.
“I’ve just never gotten around to it. They’re not common in Nashville,” She hummed, delicately biting into her own streak and bean creation. “How was practice,”
You scrunched your nose but decided that pointing out that Chipotle was a national chain (and that you and Emily had eaten at one when you played Australia in Nashville) wasn’t worth it. You felt like there was something… off about her relationship with food, but you didn’t know if you were close enough to be able to bring it up.
You honestly didn’t know if you were just friends, because the way she looked at you felt like you were edging on something more.
“Fine,” Your shoulder lifted and fell as you took another bite and swallowed. You grabbed a chip from your bag, shoving it in the top of your burrito. “Apparently I’m starting tomorrow,”
Taylor frowned. “That feels like quite the jump from being left off the roster,”
She wasn’t entirely sure how the whole selection process worked for roster and starting lineups (despite her recent research into the topic), but it felt very weird for you to go from essentially not on the team to one of the people who would carry it through the game.
You made a low sound of agreement, swallowing. “I have a feeling it was ownership’s call,”
Taylor raised an eyebrow at you, clearly asking for a more comprehensive explanation.
“We lost like 6-0,” You explained. “And our media guy said that the attendance dropped by 40% because I wasn’t on the bench,”
It was one of the few concessions that Roary made. The team hadn’t been able to break through North Carolina’s midfield without your creativity or ability to draw defenders. They hadn’t been able to supply the forwards or stop the line-breaking balls Zerboni kept sending through, and ultimately it led to a complete creaming of your team.
They needed you on the field, no matter how loath he was to admit it. That’s why you assumed Armin had overridden the coach's judgment.
The team brought in less money when they lost.
Taylor nodded in understanding and the two of you lapsed into silence, slowly munching on your respective burritos.
“I can’t believe you have a game 2 days apart,” She said after a few minutes. “Doesn’t seem to leave you a lot of time to recover,”
You tilted your head. “The league wants to squeeze in as many matches as they can before the international break,”
“That seems reasonable,” Taylor said, seemingly agreeing with you.
It didn’t, but the league (and the owners) weren’t really concerned with your health. You were basically a trading card designed to bring them more money.
You played with the foil around your burrito, biting your lip. “I um… I have an extra pass if you want to come watch,”
She paused, her grin dipping into a frown. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Going out somewhere isn’t always easy,”
Not that she was sure anyone even knew she was in Chicago. So far, there hadn’t been any talk on social media of her impromptu trip, and she had no intention of that changing.
She didn’t need the space in front of your apartment becoming a circus. Not with the horrible things the press had been saying about her.
“The seat is in a box, so no one would see you if you decided you wanted to go, and you can use the player’s entrance,” You explained, trying to seem like you didn’t care what her answer would be. Trying to pretend like you wouldn’t care if she decided not to one. “No cameras are allowed in the tunnels,”
Her lips pressed very tightly together, seemingly seeing through your facade. “I just don’t want to take away from your game,”
“You can’t distract from the match,” You shrugged. “There will already be crazy speculation because I’m on the roster, and the Camp call-ups haven’t been made public yet,”
She hummed. She knew that the media that you dealt with was different, but still vicious nonetheless.
Instead of picking apart your outfit choice or your performances on stage, they tore apart your play. They ripped your soccer skills apart and compared you to your sister at every turn.
“I think it’s horrible that they’re focusing so much on one play,”
It was still difficult for her to wrap her head around how a singular moment had seemingly derailed your entire career, but then again a single misconstrued phone call had derailed hers.
You shrugged. It was nothing when compared to what Taylor was dealing with. “At least they’re attacking me for something I actually did. I ended my soccer career with a single kick. You’re being punished for a man’s lies,”
Taylor nodded slowly, taking another bite of her burrito.
She didn’t think either circumstance was fair, but that was the position that you were both in. You were trapped by your coaches and she was trapped by perception.
The only thing either of you could do was control the things you could, and enjoy the ride. Everything would even out eventually.
“I’ll come to your game,” She said, not just because she knew it would make you happy, but also because she wasn’t ready to leave yet, and going to the game would mean spending more time with you.
Plus, there was no way she would miss seeing you so in your element in person. Not when it was so ridiculously attractive on screen.
Your whole face lit up. “Really?”
She couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, it should be fun,”
Even if the paparazzi got wind of it, seeing you look so happy for the first time since you returned from Brazil would make it worth it.
“It’ll be great. I’ll even make sure to score for you,” You said, wiggling excitedly as you cleaned up your burrito wrapper and held the bag up for her as Art and Apollo both sniffed at it (she was shocked they hadn’t even begged for scraps earlier).
“If you do, you’ve gotta do the backflip celebration,” She chucked, tossing the aluminum wrapped from her burrito into the bag. “That one’s my favorite,”
You paused, your grin morphing into a mischievous smirk at the mention of your very famous goal celebration.
“For sure,” You said with your signature wink, and Taylor couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “I’ll do a double if I get a hat trick, just for you,”
It took a second for her peels of laughter to dissolve into shorter giggles and for her to catch her breath. It was so strange to have the look you always sent fans directed at her. The look she was sure had landed you most of your famous hookups.
Though it kind of melted her heart that you only used it on her in a comedic sense. That it shifted back to the look she liked to think you saved just for her as soon as her giggles filled the air.
“Do you want to watch something before dinner?” You asked, sobering and shifting awkwardly on the couch. “The pups and I thought a pillow fort would be cool,”
Taylor hummed, leaning her chin on her hand. “I think that sounds incredible,”
The little fist pump you gave was adorable, as was the way the dogs hopped around you, and in that moment she knew.
When she looked back on this moment, it would be the one she would point to as the moment she knew she was in love.
OoOoOoO
Taylor had been to a lot of places in her life. She had played down the road from Seat Geek Stadium in Chicago many times.
But she had never gotten to see this side of the city.
She had never gotten to be normal and watch a game without hordes of people screaming for her attention. She hadn’t even needed to use the special player entrance. The stadium attendants had escorted them to the box with zero fanfare, and she felt safe sitting in the open area of the box with the promise that the cameras rarely panned it.
She didn’t even regret not bringing extra security like she thought she would.
Her heart also fluttered each time you glanced up at the box, smiling impossibly wider each time she waved.
It was like the little lanyard pass you had given her (and Tony) was an invisibility cloak.
It was an addictive feeling to be so… free. To be hidden to the rest of the world but so visible to you.
“She’s really on fire tonight,” Tony said, glancing over at the game clock.
You had only been on the field for 15 minutes, and you had already scored twice.
“She’s got a lot to prove,” Taylor hummed, leaning forward in her seat as you slotted another better ball between the two opposing team’s defenders. “This is the first time she’s gotten to play since the Olympics,”
You had already told her that you probably wouldn’t get to play the full first half anyway. Your coach was stuck on the penalty you took in Brazil just like the rest of the world was, even if Taylor didn’t see a point in basing your playtime off of it.
That meant you had limited minutes to prove to them that you deserved to be on the pitch. To make them regret not starting you in other games,
Tony’s head tilted as number 23 played a quick pass back to you and the ball buried itself into the back of the net with just the tap of your toes for your 3rd goal of the evening.
It looked easy. Fluid. Even when he knew it was anything but.
You smiled as the crowd went absolutely wild, tipping an invisible hat towards the bench.
“I think it has more to do with who’s here,” Tony countered, gesturing towards where you winking towards the player's box was replaying on the Jumbotron.
She shrugged, ignoring the slight red creeping up her cheeks and his sideways glance. “The team has so much more energy when she’s on the field,”
Even as the teams got ready to reset, you bounced on your toes, twisting your hips in a way that reminded her of the shake it off dance and saying words Taylor couldn’t hear to your teammates. Words she was sure were organizing your offense. Words she knew would help you continue to shred your former team, even if she herself wouldn’t understand them (watching a game with you had been like listening to a foreign language as you yelled at the screen, unwilling to translate until it was over).
“She’s the focal point of their offense,” Tony agreed, deciding not to comment further on Taylor’s blush. “But tonight she’s playing more flashy than she normally plays,”
Taylor hummed. He was right.
From what she had seen, you were not generally a selfish player. You liked to serve balls on a platter to make your team look good. You liked to pull defenders and set your strikers up.
Tonight you hadn’t done that.
Tonight you had taken the chances for yourself, putting them in the back of the net and making sure the league knew exactly what you were capable of. You wanted to show them how dangerous you could be.
“She’s proving a point,” Taylor reiterated.
“I don’t disagree,” Tony said as you slotted a very nice through pass past the first defender, and the second just barely poked it out for a corner kick. You glanced up towards the box as you took your position, a little smirk on your face. “I’m just not sold that she’s only proving a point to the coaching staff, her teammates and the reporters,”
Taylor’s head tilted.
It was true that while you didn’t play flashy, you did like to tease the fans (and whoever had caught your eye that week). You knew their obsession with you, and you never missed an opportunity to play it up.
But this felt different.
You hadn’t been winking at anyone on the field, or in the stands. The only place you kept looking was over towards the coaching staff and up at her.
“She doesn’t have anything to prove to me,” She said, sitting back in her chair as your header landed in the keeper's hands.
Tony smirked. “I know that and you know that,”
Taylor made a low noise, her eyes flitting to the sideline where the 4th official was getting ready with the sub-board. “I think she knows that too,”
You trudged to the sideline when your number came up, using your jersey to wipe your mouth (flashing your abs to the crowd) and glancing up at the clock.
Taylor followed your eyes, frowning at the large 25 on the screen.
It was stupid to take you off when you were playing so well, and the booing from the crowd echoed her sentiment. The fans were about as happy as you looked about coming off, even if it was already expected.
You ignored your replacement and brushed off the coach's hand, glaring at him as you took the pinny from one of the equipment managers.
There was an odd friction between you and the man, one that brought out a fierceness and an anger that countered your normally sunny personality. But then again, your personality was much different when you were on the field anyway.
There was a confidence and swagger about you that made butterflies erupt in her stomach. That made her want you in a way that should make her feel uncomfortable.
But even now, the way you signed autographs for the fans behind the bench reminded her that you were still you. You were still the sweet and shy, not the cocky character you played on the field (even if she was rather sexy).
This version of you was the one that melted her heart.
“She might know that, but I think she wants to impress you anyway,” Tony said, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s cute,”
Taylor raised an eyebrow at him, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the warmth that moved from her cheeks up to her ears. “Shut up,”
He chuckled, settling back in his seat, ready for the rest of the game (even if it had considerably slowed down now that you weren’t playing). He had a feeling that he would get to witness many more of your interactions in the future and that he would get to see your insane footwork on the field again if the look on Taylor’s face was anything to go by.
Getting to see the two of you actually interact together had to be just as adorable, and he was looking forward to it.
OoOoOoO
You sighed, leaning back on the couch, scratching Orion’s head where he rested it in your lap, just above your air therapy boots, and changing the channel for the 30th time.
You weren’t actually watching the television, but you thought that some background noise would help alleviate the odd emptiness that had overtaken your apartment. It was quiet in a way you hadn’t expected now that Taylor (and Tony) were gone, and it made you feel like there was a little piece of you missing.
Post-game recovery was always your least favorite part of the process. It always gave you too much time to think and to worry. To dissect every movement you made on the field.
But now it also gave you too much time to miss Taylor.
You understood why she had to leave after a quick congratulations after the game. You knew she was busy and that she needed to be in New York to record.
That didn’t mean that a part of you didn’t wish she had stayed.
You shook your head, shifting on the couch (much to Orion's annoyance).
You weren’t supposed to get attached to Taylor. To people in general, really.
Experience taught you that they would all leave eventually, no matter what they said or how much they promised you they wouldn’t.
Your parents forgot about your existence when Alex started getting called up to the U20 team. Alex left you for college and was too wrapped up in her new life to remember you existed either. Your friends all left when they realized that you weren’t worth the effort.
And Taylor…
She would leave too when she found out about the feelings you harbored for her.
She would write a song about how you ruined your friendship because you were too selfish to accept that she would never feel like you did. Even if she didn’t, she would leave once she saw how fucked up you really were.
Still, the little voice in your brain fixated on the chemistry between the two of you. On the moments where you caught her staring at your abs during the game, or how you would swear she was staring at your lips when you met her in the tunnel afterward.
But she couldn’t like you that way, and if she did it was something more than a sexual curiosity.
You blew out another breath.
It wasn’t that you hadn’t crossed that line with your friends before, you had, but you didn’t want it to be like that with Taylor. You didn’t want her to be a fuck buddy or a one night stand that she would regret later.
You couldn’t cross that line without her leaving you, but you weren’t even sure if there was a line to cross. Hell, you had never had a real relationship so you weren’t even sure if you had already crossed it.
Did friends do the things you and Taylor did? Did friends fly cross country to help? Did they cuddle in pillow forts?
You were just… lost.
You had never felt so… attached before.
You let your head fall back on the couch with a low thump. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t call the person you normally would (Kelley) because she would tell Alex.
You grabbed your phone from the edge of the couch, scrolling through your contacts until you found one of the few who weren’t ignoring you for missing the PK. One of the few who you trusted (even if you would get the shit teased out of you).
You paused, your finger hovering over Emily’s picture.
She would know what to do. She always knew what to do.
It took you another second to gain the courage to actually press the call button, and you worried your bottom lip as it started to ring.
She was definitely going to make fun of you.
“I need your help,” You said as soon as Emily’s face appeared on the screen.
“Hello Emily, how are you? I’m fine, thank you so much for asking,”
“Emily,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, but she just raised her eyebrows expectantly in response. Your shoulders sank. “Hello Emily, how are you?”
“I’m doing great,” She smiled cheekily back at you. “Now what’s up?”
You ran a hand through your hair, rubbing over the short curls at the back of your neck, trying to mask how nervous you were.
“I..-“ You stuttered, looking away. “There’s a girl, and I like her, but I have no clue what’s happening or what’s supposed to happen next,”
She squinted at you. “Are you dating this girl?”
“No,” You breathed out, dragging your hand from your hair to press into your forehead. “I don’t think so. She’s my friend. She’s straight, but there’s all this weird tension, and I’m not sure if she would ever want to date me. I doubt it, cause like I said she’s straight. But she’s really really pretty and we cuddle and I like her a lot but i-“
“Y/n,” Emily said, cutting you off mid-ramble, a playful smile pulling at her lips.
You blinked at her. “Yeah?”
“Let’s just start at the beginning,” She leaned forward, towards the phone, accentuating each syllable. “And talk at a pace where I can actually understand you,”
“I…I got drunk and missed a game,” You swallowed down your blush and looked away from her raised eyebrow. “She flew to Chicago to see me because she was worried, and I bought her her first burrito-,”
“She’s never had a burrito before? What kind of person hasn’t had a burrito?” Emily snorted, and you felt the tension in your chest relax a little.
You shrugged. “She said she never had one before. She liked it a lot,”
Emily’s head tilted in question, but she waved her hand. “Ok, carry on with your story,”
You swallowed hard, focusing on how your fingers dug into the spot at the back of your neck“She came to check on me and convinced me to go to practice. I bought her a burrito, and we had Thai for dinner.
“Did she sleep over?” She asked you, her pointer finger tapping her bottom lip.
You nodded slowly. “Yeah. The huskies cuddled up with us in a pillow fort and we both fell asleep to survivor,”
Emily sighed, sending you a pointed look. That wasn’t what she had been asking. “But you didn’t sleep together?”
Red instantly colored your cheeks, and the pads of your fingers dug further into the muscles at the base of your skull. “Not in the um… traditional sense,”
You looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. You couldn’t have Taylor in that way. She didn’t want you.
And if you crossed that boundary (like you had with only one other person who was a friend) then you knew you would lose her.
You weren’t ready for that.
But at the same time, you didn’t know how to not cross it. Not with the feelings still bubbling in your chest.
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Is she still there?”
“No, she had to go back to New York after the game,” You shook your head. “And we’re going to meet up again while you all are at came because there’s a break,”
Despite how much you didn’t want her to go, you understood that she had responsibilities and music to record, but that didn’t stop the way your chest ached now that she was gone.
It didn’t stop the confusion racing around your brain.
Emily stared at you like you had grown 3 heads. “A girl flew to Chicago for you, waited at your shitty apartment while you were at practice, let you bring her lunch and take her out to dinner, then attended a shitty Red Stars game and you still don’t know if she’s into you,”
You sighed, weaving your fingers through the too-long curls at the base of your neck and tugging.
“She’s my friend, Emily,” You grit out.
She raised an eyebrow at you. “The same friend who answers every time you call her,”
You tugged harder. “You don’t understand,”
Taylor was like that with all of her friends. She made everyone feel like they were the only person she could see. The only person who mattered when she was with them.
“I understand just fine,” She snorted. “You’re such a dumbass,”
You sent her a withering glare. “Emily be serious, please,”
She held her hand up in defense. “I am being serious. You’ve been on at least 2 dates, and she invited you to her place. All before the two of you have hooked up. If that doesn’t scream dating, or the desire to be dating, then I don’t know what will,”
You shook your head, dragging your fingers up through your hair and down your face.
This was why you hadn’t wanted to call Emily. Why Kelley or Alex would have been a much better option.
“This is not why I called you,” You mumbled.
“Then what is?” She asked, sounding amused.
“I…-“ You bit your lip and finally looked up at her, meeting her eyes through the phone. “I don’t know how any of this works, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next,”
“Well, at some point a conversation should happen where you define what you two are doing,” She said slowly, her voice turning soft but serious. “but other than that, I think you just go with it,”
You squinted. “Just go with it?”
What was her brilliant advice to your crisis? To just… let whatever was going to happen happen.
“Yeah, if you’re into it and she’s into it, just be into it, together,” She shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,”
Part of you wanted to yell that it already was complicated. That you couldn’t cross a line and lose her like you’d lost everyone else. But you didn’t.
“Ok,” You said. “Thank you,”
Emily smiled brilliantly back at you. “No problem, I’ll see you soon,”
You stared at the black screen of the phone as she ended the call.
Maybe she was right. Maybe you just had to go with it and trust your gut.
Maybe it would all be ok if you didn’t overthink it. That’s why you were good at hookups after all wasn’t it?
#uswnt x reader#uswnt imagines#uswnt imagine#taylor swift imagine#woso x reader#taylor swift x reader
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Could you do batfam x baby bat reader? Where reader is a tiny force of chaos who likes to run around and cause mischief, and the only person he’s perfectly behaved with (aside from Alfred) is Damian, and while the rest of the family is trying to figure out why, Damian is just being smug cause even as an infant his little brother obviously knows who his superior brother is
Oh that would totally happen. I mean, Alfred already has authority, but Damian? Bruce would definitely be confused.
Summary: (Y/N) knows that Damian is not to be messed with. Bruce is about to give up parenting.
Warnings: family fluff, Damian is a cocky one, but in a good way.
Amongst Bruce's children, Damian was the only one who was biological. Was is the most important part. Bruce was notified one night that he had a son and that the mom passed away during childbirth. Bruce was shocked to hear it, but made a paternity test to make sure that (Y/N) is his.
After a few minutes over the Batcomputer, Bruce confirmed it and quickly took his son back to the manor. (Y/N) was a small bundle, born as a premature baby, but he wasn't in a danger zone. Thankfully. However, he had to eat every few hours and both Alfred and Bruce made sure he ate to grow.
Of course, there was no abundance of shock and overall jealousy. A baby takes up a lot of time away from the other kids and it was just a complete mess for a few months. But all of them grew to like the little boy, but Damian was the one who had the hardest time doing it.
Damian enjoyed being the only biological son and more importantly, he loved throwing it in his brother's faces that he is superior to all of them. Of course, with another biological son, that went south and he was mad. He didn't want anything to do with the little boy, but (Y/N) grew on him.
Damian became especially protective of his little baby brother and he has swore to himself that he would kill again if necessary. Just for his brother. Damian was sure that Jason has swore the same thing too, especially since the incident at the gala when he was taken for ransom.
It was painful to see (Y/N) in the kidnapper's arms, crying out to his family to save him. Damian got a few hits when (Y/N) was secured and it took his brothers and about 3 more GCPD officers to contain him. Of course, the officers allowed him to get a few hits. If there is one thing you don't do in the justice system, more so if you know what happens to people who are in jail for messing with children and that one thing would be messing with children.
Especially with babies and slightly older children. They are the most defenseless ones out there and if you hurt them, well, you are in a world of hurt and pain.
Without a doubt.
Damian is the first one to act on it, right after inmates. Inmates were making sure that the bastards got what they deserved. After that evening, Damian held (Y/N) the entire night, just being there, making sure that his brother is safe.
He woke up at the slightest suspicious sound from (Y/N), observing and listening to the sounds.
As years have passed, (Y/N) has become chaotic and overall just mischievous child. There was never a dull moment with (Y/N) and Damian smiled every time that (Y/N) did something,
Bruce and the rest didn't want to stop (Y/N) and punish him for it, but they had to set firm boundaries, otherwise there would be a problem in the future and taming that problem would be difficult beyond belief.
(Y/N)'s mischievous side was first discovered when he was in kindergartens. It has started innocently and then it turned into watch out type of situation.
It was more than harmless, but still enough to scold the little boy. Scold may be too harsh, but they they had to put up firm boundaries. But (Y/N) still did it and it was something nice to see. Children should be children and Bruce wanted (Y/N) to be a child.
But still, boundaries had to be made.
But there was something about it all that made (Y/N) not want really behave. Bruce had no authority, Jason had no authority, Dick had no authority and Tim had no authority. None of it. (Y/N) often laughed at whatever they had to say.
Alfred had authority, but lets be honest, Alfred has all of the authority in the household and over the people living in it. That is an unspoken rule and Alfred could make (Y/N) behave quickly and efficiently. It made everyone feel like they were the ones being scolded.
And besides, without Alfred this house would crumble. Lets be honest, there is no Wayne Manor without Alfred. He just has that silent authority and nobody dared to defy the man.
If Alfred says, you have to go to sleep and eat, you are going to sleep and eat. Of course, (Y/N) felt it and has always behaved for Alfred.
But Damian was a whole another phenomenon in the house. It was shown when Alfred wasn't home and there was no one with enough authority to keep (Y/N) in line. However, there was Damian and Bruce saw it.
(Y/N) was being mischievous and Bruce has kept his eye on him, but he must have turned around for just a moment and (Y/N) was gone. Bruce freaked out a little bit when he couldn't find his son. He looked around everywhere and felt a little bit scared when he saw that the doors leading to the garden were open.
Bruce quickly ran outside and stopped when he heard Damian scolding (Y/N). Bruce could hear something about trying to climb a tall tree and something about being seriously hurt. Bruce watched from afar and (Y/N) looked genuinely apologetic.
Damian wasn't harsh in his scolding, but (Y/N) looked sad and Damian gave him a hug to comfort him and made him promise that the two would play later today. (Y/N) loved puzzles and Bruce always made sure to buy more puzzles for (Y/N).
His brain is better without all the excessive technology either way.
Bruce asked Damian how he did it, but Damian refused to answer, simply leaving with a smirk. Bruce sighed quietly as he stood in the garden alone, trying to process it all.
That wasn't the only incident that Bruce witnessed and it soon involved his brothers too and Alfred.
Little by little, everyone started seeing that (Y/N) was slowly behaving when Damian simply called his name out. It looked like Damian has developed a great sense for when (Y/N) was going to do something that would either hurt him or just somebody else and (Y/N) listened.
Alfred was thoroughly impressed with how a single word, (Y/N) would calm down. Alfred also had the same thing with (Y/N). A simple call out of his name and the boy would settle, knowing exactly that Alfred is not messing around.
But then again, (Y/N) knows who is the boss.
And Damian had his own theory why (Y/N) listened to him. There is a little thing called a superior brother. And a biological connection too and yes, Bruce has argued that he is the father, but Damian has simply said that he is superior.
Of course, his brothers weren't safe from the superior remarks.
Jason was ready to deck Damian every time he has heard that remark, but still remained curious as to how (Y/N) listens to Damian and not him. He is a better brother.
Tim didn't care, happy that there was someone other than Alfred could keep (Y/N) in line and safe. Even if that someone is Damian with whom he isn't in a great relationship, but he is trying to be civil because of (Y/N). And it was working, sort off at least.
Dick was just jealous that (Y/N) listened to Damian. Don't get him wrong, he loves Damian with all of his heart and is happy that he isn't mad anymore about being the other biological sibling, but it was still painful for his heart.
What did just Damian have that they didn't, excluding Alfred of course.
Well, Damian has an answer for all of them, with his signature smirk inherited from his father, the infamous 'batsmirk.'
" He actually knows who is his superior brother, no? "
Damian said with so much smugness and Jason wanted nothing more than to deck his brother with so much force that would removed Damian's head from his body.
Bruce choose to observe instead and Dick was just plane sad at the mere authority that Damian seemed to exude. Silent authority, just like Alfred.
Tim was curious too and he is just going to wait to see how the situation unfolds in the following years. This is going to make an interesting case and observation of (Y/N)'s growing up.
#dc x male reader#x male reader#dc comics#batfamily#bruce wayne x male reader#jason todd x male reader#batman x male reader#red hood x male reader#dick grayson x male reader#nightwing x male reader#damian wayne x male reader#robin x male reader#tim drake x male reader#red robin x male reader
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Ceremony
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader
18+ only read at your own risk
Summary: You get some (very nice) awards for your actions during Operation: Avalanche.
Word count: 1834
AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
This is Part 4 of my Sergeant Beef AU, following the events of this fic.
“Why is all of this necessary?” you whine, pulling at your stiff collar. Natasha slaps your hand down as she fixes the medals and ribbons on your chest.
“This is what you get for almost getting yourself killed,” she replies, although there is no malice in her tone. “Don’t worry. We can go back to my place afterwards and–”
“Finally,” you interrupt with a grin.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she chastises again, although you know she’s just as excited as you are to be back on your home turf for the first time in months.
“How do I look? Would I pass your inspection this time?” you ask as she backs away from you, surveying you up and down. You’re leaning on one crutch still, but you’re glad that you don’t have to use a wheelchair anymore.
“You look fantastic,” Natasha says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Ready?”
“Let’s do it.”
She walks at your pace as you hobble out of the parking lot, joining the large group of people gathered on the lawn of the park. Most of them you hadn’t seen since before your deployment, which at this point feels years ago. Your entire team is here too, all of them crowding around you for hugs and handshakes. There’s too many things to be said but no privacy to say them in, so you promise that you’ll give them your time once you return to the base. Men and women with more medals and ribbons than you can count come over to thank you and wish you well. It feels odd being the center of attention and you’re not really sure you like it.
Peter Parker brought along his Aunt May and she gives you a hug that almost lifts you off the ground. She cries into your shoulder while thanking you for not leaving her nephew behind and you unexpectedly get a little choked up yourself.
There’s also a camera crew from the local news station that asks you to sit down for a brief interview. You see Natasha watching you from behind the camera, a mixture of pride and worry on her face for you. She knows this event is emotionally and mentally draining for you, but she can’t be happier to be here celebrating your achievements with you.
After the interview, you sit with her in the front row, you on the aisle side because you need space for your crutch. General Fury goes up to the stage and gives the opening speech.
You zone out, hearing your name said a few times, but you don’t really care. Natasha nudges your knee with hers and you look up at her. She smiles bracingly which you return half-heartedly.
“I would now like to welcome Sergeant Y/N to the stage,” Fury says, as everyone erupts into applause. You grab your crutch and Natasha stands with you. Slowly, you limp to the steps of the stage, Natasha hovering behind you carefully. You hop up each step, your face hot as you feel all eyes on you and you pray that you don’t accidentally trip in front of them. “Sergeant Y/N,” Fury says as you approach him. He is mindful to offer you his left hand so you can leave your right one holding onto your crutch.
“It is with great honor that I present to you today the Purple Heart Award and the Distinguished Service Cross, for your bravery and actions during Operation: Avalanche. You did not hesitate to put yourself in certain danger to ensure your team’s safety, and because of your sacrifice, all six members of your team are here today. Thank you for your service and dedication to protecting this country, Sergeant Y/N.”
The applause sounds louder up here than your seat, and you stand tall as Fury pins your two new awards to your chest. Natasha is standing, probably clapping louder than anyone else, and her reaction makes you feel happier than the two awards you’ve just been given.
“Thank you, General,” you say, saluting him with a tight voice.
“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Y/N. I didn’t even write the speech,” he teases, standing next to you and posing for some pictures.
***********************************************************************
After the ceremony, you skip your own after party to go home with Natasha. You give everyone the excuse that you’re tired, which isn’t technically a lie, but now you just want to spend time with Natasha. She brings you to her apartment, which is bigger and nicer than yours, but you don’t even have a second to revel in its familiarity when she pushes you into the bedroom.
She helps unbutton your shirt, being very mindful of your new awards, taking it over to her closet to properly hang up. You can’t help but smile at how respectful she is when it's normally a desperate frenzy to get you undressed. You toss your crutch onto the floor, leaning most of your weight on your left leg while trying to simultaneously unbuckle your belt and take off your pants without falling over.
By the time she comes over to you, she’s already naked herself and you can’t help but moan when she presses against you, skin-to-skin. She wraps her strong arms around your waist, helping keep you upright, leaning up to kiss you. You can tell she’s trying to be gentle with you, but you can feel her passion with the way her hands possessively run up your sides, skating carefully over the new, large scar along your ribs. Her nails dig into your back muscles to press you against her harder.
“Nat,” you whisper when you start to feel your right leg shaking. You know you lost some muscle mass and definition being cooped up in a hospital bed for months, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. You're also embarrassed that you can’t stay standing for long, but Natasha pulls away to take your hand and lead you to the bed. You limp after her, immediately dropping to your knees on the mattress as she lays down in front of you.
“I really want you, Y/N,” she says, practically devouring you with her eyes alone. “But if you’re not up to it, I can wait.”
“I want you too, Nat. So much,” you reply, starting to jerk yourself off to hardness. It’s been months since you’ve had an opportunity to have her like this; as often as her visits to your room in the hospital were, you weren’t well enough to engage in her favorite activity the way you used to. It had been hard on both of you to have to wait, and part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t last that long or didn’t remember how to please her.
“Okay. How do you want me?” Natasha asks, and it’s unusual for her to let you decide. But she seems to understand the importance of going at your pace and doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.
“Uh…on your knees?” you suggest, not even sure what you’ll be able to handle. As long as the movement was minimal, you figure you’d be okay.
“Okay.” Natasha kisses you again before turning to face away from you, presenting her perfect backside. Instinctively you grab onto it, shuffling forward until your cock bumps against her butt. You’re already throbbing at her touch but you want to make sure she’s near the same level as you.
You bend forward, your side protesting a little at the movement, but you push through, slipping your arm around her waist to drag your fingers through her folds. Natasha puts her hand on your wrist to guide you better, and you start panting in anticipation when you feel how wet she is.
You dip your fingers into her while circling her clit and her body stiffens underneath you. You’re just glad you’re doing something right as she ruts back against you with a whine, guiding you to move faster and deeper.
“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum,” Natasha admits, tightening around your fingers. She forces you to stop moving so you wait for her next instruction. It makes you feel a little bit better that you’re not the only one with decreased stamina. “Are you ready, babe?” she asks. “I want to cum with you.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, looking down at your hard cock that’s standing almost at a 90-degree angle.
“Okay. Fuck me good, Y/N.”
Her words turn you feral almost instantly and you steady yourself by holding onto her waist with both hands, maybe a little harder than you intend because you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, even in this kneeling position. The tip of your cock brushes against her hot center and this time, you don’t wait for further permission to enter her. You push in, her tight heat surrounding you, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself not to cum immediately.
“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, afraid to move while you adjust to how perfectly she stretches around you. Your cock twitches when she pulls you in deeper and you finally move your hips in time with hers, although a little more slowly than you would have liked.
You moan like you haven’t been fucked in months, which is technically true, and Natasha pulses harder around you when she hears your reaction to her. She pushes back against your abs with some force, a little afraid that she’ll knock you over, but she’s so desperate to be filled by you. Her toys, her hands, and even yours would never compare to your cock.
The bedroom quickly fills with the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The pain in your side and thigh starts to become noticeable even with the numbing pleasure between your legs, and you realize you have to finish soon or you won’t get to at all.
“Nat, I…I need to cum,” you beg, hoping she’s at her peak too.
“Let go, babe,” Natasha says, curling her hands into the blankets and lifting her hips higher so you can piston against the sensitive spot inside of her. It takes a few more strokes that almost have you seeing stars before you unload, arching forward to bury yourself to the hilt as you pump out your seed in a few hard bursts. The pressure of being filled is enough to send Natasha over the edge, her cum dripping onto your cock as you pull out and collapse next to her on the bed, your chest heaving and sweat collecting around your neck.
Natasha reaches out to you, wrapping herself around your body like a koala bear. Although she would love to go another round with you, she can tell you’re too exhausted and doesn’t want to push you. So as you slowly drift off to sleep, Natasha whispers in your ear how much she loves you and how she’ll never take you for granted again.
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AN: And things are basically back to normal for these two! :)
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader
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Whole Day Off: The Meal
Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Female Reader
Summary: After being invited out to attend a romantic dinner with the infamous Scarecrow, you find that his intentions are as complicated as ever as he enjoys your company. (6.3k words)
(tw for: outdoor sex, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm, mild voyeurism, cum marking, unprotected sex, mild sub/dom dynamic, possessive behaviour etc)
Whole Day Off Masterlist
Link to AO3 Series
Enjoying a dreamless sleep as your body recovers from your play, it’s no less shocking when Crane’s hands wrap around your upper arms and shake you awake with clear urgency pinching at his tone.
“Up now, little mouse. You need to get ready and move.”
“Wh-hello?” Groggily sitting up, you adjust to his presence before you with bleary features – eyes narrowed and mouth feeling dry as hell as you stretch your arms overhead. The residual aches from your earlier fuck are quick to make themselves known as you wince in discomfort.
“In a few moments, Waylon Jones, better known to most people as Killer Croc, will be visiting to drop-off some necessary equipment for my experiments. I have no time to hide you so you must play your part again as a victim and play it well.” His words are even despite the hurried tone and Crane’s hands clasp over your own as he pulls you to your feet.
Still disorientated from your broken sleep, it takes you a moment to follow his gaze but doing so forces your eyes to the dental chair and your throat tightens as you realise what he’s asking. You may have forgiven him for the mess with Sionis but you had not forgotten and the discomfort which roiled in your chest every time the dental chair caught your eye was undeniable.
At your feet, your clothes lie in a messy pile and you bend in place to snatch them up. Pulling on your long-abandoned shirt with trembling hands, you focus on Crane’s words as he explains the situation with his typical, reserved attitude.
“Jones works for me from time to time doing grunt work. He will be dropping off some electronics I require so I will ask that you remain in the chair until he has left. Your presence will not seem off if you perform accordingly.” Pausing as though considering something, he is nevertheless quick to carry on. “I understand that you have no desire to find yourself back in the chair so soon but I can promise you that this situation will be nothing like the previous.”
Padding across the floor, tracing the familiar walk to the dental chair with a zombie-like gait, you sit down on it gingerly – every nerve in your body tensed and desperate to bolt as Crane follows your footsteps to stand before you.
"Waylon Jones is not a creature built on cruelty, nothing like Sionis. More a victim of his circumstances than anything. He will pay you no mind."
Struggling to articulate the whirlwind of anxieties and questions which are fluttering through your mind, Crane seizes the opportunity to speak again.
"Do you trust me?"
The question of the hour.
Nodding even though the agreement doesn't fully ring true within your heart, you allow him to secure you into the chair. Watching him with a trembling mouth, you notice how loose the restraints around your limbs sit and the dread within your chest lightens slightly as you take the merciful act as a small, unspoken apology of the previous mistreatment.
Quick to fix you in place and beat a hasty retreat, you startle as Crane's fingers brush along your jaw - an odd look playing on his features for only a moment before he schools it away and walks back to his workbench.
Unsure what to make of that, you banish the thoughts to focus on the task at hand.
Heavy footsteps approach within minutes and the stairs seem to tremble under the weight as Waylon Jones descends into the basement.
Trapped, you can't help but feel an awe-filled fear as you watch the hulking man struggle to fit down the somewhat narrow staircase. At seven feet, he towered over Crane, a fact made worse by the sheer bulk of him as green muscle filled the space. His reptilian skin looked tough and pitted, chest and upper legs covered by clothing which was slightly torn and frayed around the edges.
Across his back lay a large sack and Waylon carefully deposited it to the ground. It was massive and you could tell that it was heavy from the quiet thud of contact it made with the hard flooring.
"Good evening, Waylon." Crane greeted coolly. "How was the acquisition?"
Opening his mouth to reply, sharp rows of stained teeth shone from Waylon's inhumane maw. "Easy. There was no one in the building so I just grabbed it and went." He growled, his voice vibrating across the room as you kept up a showman struggle against the dental chair.
"Even stole a few extra bits, just in case."
"Excellent. Your payment is in the usual place." Audibly pleased, Crane clapped his hands together as he surveyed the collection. "Your work is an impeccable as always, Mr. Jones."
As Crane speaks, something seems to catch Waylon off-guard and he goes still. His body tenses and his head almost seemed to swim in the air for a moment as he scents something out with long inhales. After a moment, his head snaps in your direction and a visceral thrill of pure fear shoots up your spine.
Padded feet move a few feet in your direction and you freeze in position, pressing your back against the dental chair as Waylon comes to a stop a few feet away. Whatever faux fear you had feigned is now fully replaced by a very real horror as you realise that Crane would be unable to do anything should this monster decide to take a piece from you.
But nothing of the sort happened.
Something almost like regret washes through Waylon’s face as he stares at you, his nose continuing to flare as he sniffs out the fear which is no doubt pouring from you in waves as phantom memories of Sionis and how much more terrible this could be nips at your anxieties.
Waylon's snout twitches again, this time with confusion in his features, and he leans in closer to give you a more definite sniff. This close, you can see much more of his animalistic qualities; the reptilian eyes a subtle yellow as they sit neatly atop his slight snout.
"Waylon," Crane's voice rings out, firm and full of harsh warning, "away from her. Now. My work is no concern of yours."
Waylon ignores him and his snout twitches as he picks up on whatever he had been suspicious of. With the confirmation comes a sudden burst of anger as his reptilian eyes narrow and his features darken as he whirls on Crane.
"And they call me the monster." Waylon snarls lowly. "You're fucking them too? Using them like that?"
Truly furious, it was a frightening sight as Waylon stands to his full height and raises a threatening hand - the claws gleaming in the dim light - to Crane's chest. Shocked by the turn of events, any words you have die in your chest as you watch Crane refuse to back down.
"Waylon-"
"Don't ask me to work for you no more. No more favours, no more help. We're done."
Moving quicker than a seven-foot reptile should be capable of, Waylon pushes at Crane's chest with enough force to knock him clean onto his ass as a mixed expression of fury and confusion flashed across his features. It’s violent and shocking, a show of aggression which only amplifies the fear in your heart as sweat breaks out along your panicking limbs.
Still moving, Waylon was quick to return to you - his hands pulling free the restraints quickly as your struggle became real, not wanting this hulking beast to grab at you.
Mistaking your panic, Waylon wraps his arm around your body and picks you up easily as though you were a bag of sugar. Your breath catches in your lungs as he places you gently over his shoulder and you can feel one massive hand pinning itself to your lower back to secure you in place.
"I'll take you outta here, Miss. You can go to the Thompson clinic and tell Leslie you need help. She's good people. She'll help."
Through the shock and panic, something finally clicks in your mind and you burst into action, a surge of strength pulsing through your veins.
"I'm OKAY!" You yell, beating your fists on Waylon's scaled back as you watch Crane righting himself to his feet - his own breath clearly knocked from his lungs. "I’m okay! P-put me down, please!"
Waylon seems hesitant, pausing at the foot of the stairs, but follows your demand as he is unable to ignore your outburst and carefully plucks you from his shoulder to place you on your feet.
He says nothing, nostrils flaring as he watches you fix your outfit with trembling hands.
"I'm okay." You repeat. "He's not like th-he didn't rape me." You add explicitly, heading off the misunderstanding at its core.
"You sure?" Waylon asks, his back relaxing slightly as he settled onto his heels. "You don't gotta be frightened, his gas don't work on me."
Interesting to know.
"I'm sure. I come here because we're," you pause - unsure how to explain the mess that was your fraught relationship as you catch eyes with Crane for a moment, "seeing each other." You finish lamely.
Moving to stand behind you, the agitation which rolls off Crane makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention and you can feel how unhappy he is with this turn of events.
"Waylon, people can't know about her." Crane's low voice brushes past your ear and you lean back into him in a show of solidarity. "Sionis had a similar run-in and he has already come too close. You know what kind of man he is and if he knew the truth then…"
It's a subtle manipulation but one you play into as you allow fear to swallow your features. Waylon nods quickly, understanding alighting in his expression as he glances between the two of you.
"Secrets safe with me, Doc.” Waylon straightened his back to his full height, his head almost brushing the ceiling as he assumes a more relaxed stance. “And you seem nice.” His reptilian head tilting in your direction, Waylon continues as his gaze flicks to Crane. “She's pretty and seems nice. Too nice for-"
Waylon cuts himself off, a guilty look blossoming on his features as he realises the insult that he almost gave without thought.
Crane finishes it for him.
"Too nice for me. You're not wrong, Mr. Jones."
x-x-x-x-x
With Waylon gone, Crane’s agitation seemed to ebb and flow as he paced the basement with a firm determination.
“Waylon is dependable and discrete. His knowledge won’t impact anything.”
Unsure if the statements were directed at you or more of an external monologue, you answer regardless as you finish slipping your feet into your shoes.
“He seems fine enough. The papers and news are always very cruel about him and the things he’s been accused of.” And it was true. A Killer Croc appearance on the news was irregular and often accompanied by alleged sightings which contained footage that put the Bigfoot evidence to shame in terms of how shoddy it was; anything to bolster the reports of cannibalism and cruelty. “He also knows how to treat a woman.”
Responding to the tease with a thoroughly sour look, Crane stops his movements long enough to pin you with a scowl.
“Am I to take that as a criticism?”
“Take it as you like.” You answer evenly.
“In that case, I will discard the invitation to dinner which was simmering within my thoughts.”
Now wait a minute. “Dinner?”
“Yes.” Crane nodded. “Did we not discuss sharing a meal? I know your apartment was suggested and offered; however, I do realise that such short notice wouldn’t be considered polite or feasible.”
Your underfed stomach making itself known at the very prospect of a decent meal, the subtle rumble perks your attention up as you pretend to consider the offer – a recollection of actually offering your own apartment lacking in your memory.
“It would be rude of me to decline such a generous offer, Dr. Crane.”
��A dinner then. Meet me at this address at 7pm and I will reserve the space.” Scrawling the information on a slip of paper that he snatched up from his work desk, Crane thrust it within your hands. “Get a cab. I’ll also arrange the return trip.”
Not feeling like you had much of a choice in the matter as you look at the address - the restaurant not too far away based on its postcode. Excited by the prospect, you give an eager nod as a girlish flutter afflicts your stomach; your mind already vaguely scoping out your wardrobe for something nice to wear.
“Sure.”
x-x-x-x-x
Nervously tugging at the edge of the tablecloth as your fingers dance along the tacky red and white plaid, the passing waiters occasionally flick their eyes towards your table as they hold off on making any approach until your other guest has seated himself. Having elected to throw on a simple black dress paired with some low heels, you had even made enough of an effort to put on a little makeup – your eyes enhanced by a smudge of eyeliner while a neutral red colour tinges your lips.
Catching a cab had been easy enough and you were five minutes early, a fact you had made the host aware of as you walked in and requested the table for Gruidae, following Crane’s earlier instructions to use the false name. He had made the booking, and the spot you were reserved was far from the bright lights which flooded the centre of the restaurant. It was a nice, intimate booth with comfortable room for two while allowing for a little privacy.
Speak of the devil.
A dark shape covered the table for only a moment as Crane walks past your elbow, stopping at the side of the booth as he pauses to take in your appearance – a choice while allows you do to the exact same as something fond curls in your chest at the sight of him.
Surprisingly, Crane also seems to have made an effort.
More used to seeing him in his lab coat and simple shirts, the deep brown suit which hangs off his body is quite stunning, if a little outdated. A grey shirt, one you don’t recognise, sits below the suit jacket and the ensemble fills him out nicely as it takes the edges away from his gaunt frame.
“Hi.”
“Good evening.” Crane replies evenly, seating himself across from you as he unbuttons his jacket. “That’s quite the dress, little mouse.”
Pressing your elbows together to enhance the low dip of your cleavage, you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to enjoy the view before darting back up to your face.
“This old thing?” You smile, careful not to catch the edge of the brand-new dress on the wooden leg of the table. “I wasn’t sure how intense the dress code was. Your suit is lovely, by the way, makes you look very handsome.”
He shrugs the compliment off with ease, a disbelieving casualness that speaks to how rarely anyone much say something positive about him.
“It’s cold out there and I doubt my typical attire would be appreciated.”
“The lab coat?”
“I was thinking more about my costume and mask, witty girl. A touch too recognisable to allow for a nice meal.”
Feeling slightly embarrassed but enjoying the teasing quality of the simple conversation, you let it slide as your waiter appears by the side of the table.
“Some drinks for the table?”
“Large glass of house red.” Crane answers without missing a beat, his gaze settling on you as he continues. “And?”
“Vodka and lemonade, with a splash of blackcurrant.”
“Excellent. I’ll get those through for you.”
As the waiter departs, his polished back shoes tapping along the tiled flooring, you notice Crane watching you with a question lurking in his gaze.
“Yeah?”
“I just wasn’t expecting you to order a hard spirit.” He confesses with a deadpan tone. “I was expecting something more muted. Or sensible.”
“I like vodka.” Feeling defensive, you drop your elbows from the table. “Mixes with anything and doesn’t cloud my judgement as much as wine.”
A fact which makes the slightest smirk touch at his lips. “Why the need for a clear head? Are you nervous, little mouse?”
“No.” You lie, butterflies fluttering within your chest. “I’m just not much of a risk taker.”
At that, he can’t hide his disbelief as a scoff quickly fizzles into a doubtful stare. “Is that so? And what would you call agreeing to attend a dinner with a wanted madman? A person who has mistreated and abused your lovely body in the most carnal of ways?”
Smiling politely at the waiter, his sudden reappearance causing Crane to drop his point as he accepted his glass of wine without thanks, you take a short sip of your drink as you fix Crane with a teasing look.
“I call that a free dinner.”
“And what gave you the impression I was paying for this outing?”
“I seem to recall you coming into a substantial amount of money recently from a mutual friend of ours. I assumed that some of that money would benefit me in some way. Since, well, you know…”
Trailing off, you offer him a sweet smile and Crane is unable to hide the amusement which floods his features as he finds himself manipulated into agreeing.
“In that case,” he sipped from his wine, “I suppose that it would be the polite thing to do.”
x-x-x-x-x
After another two rounds of drinks and a dinner which was admittedly quite delicious, your decision to wash away the creamy carbonara which now sat warmly in your stomach with a lemon and raspberry cheesecake – the tartness of the dessert cutting across your tongue beautifully – was one which you couldn’t hide your pleasure at.
Humming away contentedly as you cut another small piece with your fork, you allowed Crane to continue with his discussion. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the comfort of such a tasty meal, but the reserved nature which Crane always revelled in had mellowed and with it came a great opportunity to ask questions which you had always been too nervous to.
“And which of the other costumed villains do you have the least amount of time for?”
It also turned out that Crane was quite the opinionated man when it came to his thoughts on others. A trait which you would have easily describes as ‘bitchy’ had it been applied to any other person.
“Joker is the least dependable to associate with but a necessity if one wishes to remain aware of the more dangerous plots occurring across the city.” Crane scowled, his spindly finger tapping his glass as a subtle flush sat high on his cheeks. “Dent fears me in a primal way and his fear manifests as aggression which makes any interaction a risk as he is very vocal in his desire to blow a hole in my chest with his magnum. Recent events have also placed Sionis low on my list.”
Pleased with that, you tilt your head and give him a small smile, ignoring the little voice in your head that was determined to remind you of his guilt in that manner. The restaurant around you was quiet with only a few other tables filled with various pairs and one small family tucked away in one of the corner booths. All people with their own lives and absolutely no awareness of the monster who sat amongst them nor the woman who he held within his grip.
“If you are finished, I will settle the bill and meet you by the front doors.”
Glancing down at the almost empty plate, you can’t face the last few bites and so you give him a quick nod, standing from your chair as you drain the last of your drink – the ice clinking against your teeth.
Moving to walk past him, you pause long enough to run your hand across his shoulder as your head drops to his cheek.
“Thank you for dinner.” You mutter, pressing a soft kiss against his jaw, the stubble there grating against your lips.
His response is a non-committal grunt and you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you pull your jacket on and head towards the front door of the restaurant. Stepping out into the cold night, you shudder at the sudden chill as your eyes take in the surroundings.
Above you, the moon hangs against the blackened sky in a lovely crescent shape. The streets are dead, only a few shambling bodies of finished workers and drunks from the bar two blocks over stumbling their ways home. Feeling pleasantly warmed due to the vodka stirring your insides, it still isn’t enough to combat the cold air and you cross your arms to your chest since you are unable to do much about the chill accosting your bare legs.
Crane joins you quickly enough, the scent of red wine on his breath as he passes you closely. Curious as to how he plans to get you home, you voice your concerns.
“Are we getting a cab?”
Standing to his full height, Crane tilts his head down at you and his features are as stoic as ever but a slight playfulness seems to be touching at his eyes.
“On such a night? No. I think we can manage the short walk to the warehouse. It should take around ten minutes.”
Taking his arm within your own, a bold movement which causes him to cock a brow, you allow him to lead you on the correct path as you mutter beneath your breath.
“What was that, little mouse?”
Crane’s elbow digs into your side as he awaits an answer and you glance to the side as you meet his gaze head-on.
“Cheapskate.”
His response is a measured huff, somewhere between annoyance and amusement, but he doesn’t deny the claim as his long legs march across the sidewalk forcing you to keep pace.
It really is a beautiful night and your thoughts are jumbled as you walk in a companionable silence. Dinner had been lovely, not just the food, but to get to watch the infamous Scarecrow in a much more relaxed and intimate setting was interesting. He was as brash as ever, his twisted morality making his answers to questions honest and refreshing as much as they were, at times, concerning.
Even his body language was more relaxed as he wined and dined.
The tension which littered his every word and action appeared lessened, his lips quicker to quirk into genuine amusement as he enjoyed your discussions. Your life, much less interesting than his, had taken up less of your shared time as a wicked curiosity controlled your own tongue – forcing you to ask questions about a world you had no interest in visiting.
So lost in your own thoughts, when Crane eventually tugs at your arm to grab your attention it comes as a genuine shock and you gasp in surprise.
“I have been considering your denial that you engage in risk taking behaviours.” He says, his head twisting to either side as he examins the empty street around you both. “It interests me.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Curious to why he had stopped, you follow his gaze to see the same emptiness filling the space. Apartments surround you, some with lights on and most without, and to your right is an alleyway which leads to the emergency fire exits of two separate apartment blocks.
“I think it’s a claim we need to further examine.” Thin hands shift to drop to your waist, snaking their way within your jacket to grip at your dress where it covers your hips. It’s a rough touch, one which makes your cheeks flush as you feel the air between you thicken as he stands before you, blocking out anything which isn’t him.
“You say that like I’m not walking back to your basement with you.” You counter, your own hands coming to a rest atop his forearms, fingers stroking along the thick material of his suit. “A place where i’ve been tied up and abused more times that I’d like to count.”
“I wasn’t thinking of waiting that long.”
In a flash of movement, his hands grow even tighter around your hips as he pulls you into the darkened alleyway to your right – the only illumination coming from the crescent moon which hangs in the sky and the neon flashing of a nearby pharmacy sign. So caught off guard by the sudden change of position, you issue a short yelp as his hands push you roughly against the wall, the harsh brick pressing against your back as his much larger body caged your own.
Anxiety clawing at your chest as your eyes struggle to accustom themselves to the darkness, Crane’s enveloping presence also sparks heat in your groin; your cunt clenching pitifully as warmth floods your lower stomach. His touch is always electric and here, in this filthy alleyway where anyone could be watching, it feels even more alive.
Bearing down against you, the scent of his cologne is strong and his leg moves to fill the space between your thighs. His groin hot against your hip, you can feel the growing hardness there as he assails you. Sighing as his hand rides up your dress, you spread your legs apart to allow him easier access as his fingers ghost across your thigh.
“Dr. Crane?” You interrupt, tone forcing itself to be as empty as his own, if a little strained as your heart flutters.
“Yes?”
“Your hand is up my dress.”
“And how does that make you feel, little mouse.” Playing the game, Crane’s piercing eyes pin you into place in a way his hands never could.
“It’s hot.” You groan, shifting your weight so that his hand is forced to move across your panties; the fabric there already feeling wet as he thumbs it lightly. “It makes me feel wanted, but I’m scared that we’ll get caught and someone will see us.”
“Scared, witty girl? Oh, I doubt that.” Crane chuckles, his voice low and dangerous. “We haven’t played with your true fears in too long. This here, what you are experiencing, is a mild anxiety nothing more, but I may have a cure.”
“A cure? What- oh.” Your question is killed off by the sudden pressure of his fingers as he slips them past your panties to sink two digits into your cunt, the flush of pleasure making your grip of his arms tighten as you press down on his hand.
“Responsive as ever.” He mutters, fingers gently curling within you as he pumps them slowly, taking his time to feel out every slight flutter and clench of your walls as he teases you. “I think that fucking a known supervillain in a filthy alleyway is a perfect method of exposure therapy to overcome that pesky anxiety.”
Shuddering into his chest as you press your head forward, your right hand trembles as it fumbles messily with his fly – desperate to please him as his fingers slipped free of your cunt to stroke smoothly along your slit.
It takes only a moment for you to free him, snaking his cock through the opened fly as it juts free proudly, the length twitching in your grasp as you match your movements to his own – the alcohol in your veins making you bold while your head spins.
He doesn’t make a sound but his lips part slightly as you stroke your hand across his length, its weight familiar and heavy in your palm as the velvety skin responds to your attention by growing stiffer with every passing moment. You both continue like this for a few minutes, the silence only punctuated by deep breaths and restrained grunts, your own control much less practised than Crane’s as you use his chest for support.
“The Scarecrow demands payment, witty girl. He had fed you, watered you, and allows you to walk safely through these evening shadows safely.” Growling the demand into your ear, his lips tickle your skin and you can’t help but give a childish giggle in response before gathering yourself as you tighten your grip on his cock.
“And what does he want from me?” You moan as Crane’s middle finger rubs delicately across the hood of your clit, gently stimulating the nub below. “I don’t have any money to offer him and I’m too weak and helpless to survive any of his wicked experiments.”
“Lies.” Crane accuses, breaking character for only a moment before regaining his composure. “But the Scarecrow has a different fate in store for you. You who spreads your legs so easily for a monster that you would let him fuck you in this decrepit alleyway if he asked.”
“God, yes, I would. Please-please ask him to fuck me.” You stutter out, rolling your thumb across the sensitive line between his cockhead and shaft – a motion which you know drives him wild.
It gets the desire result and your breath catches in your lungs as his hand pulls free of your panties to instead grip your shoulders, forcing you to turn around as face the wall as he maintains a rough presence against your back.
Flipped in position, the cool brick of the wall is rough against your face and you bring your forearm up to act as a barrier as you feel his hands pulling up the hem of your jacket and dress, exposing your underwear and ass to the night breeze.
“I’m going to fuck you right here and now, little mouse.” Fingers squeezing your ass roughly, Crane grinds the tip of his cock against your cunt as he croons the words into your ears. “And if anyone sees us then all they will see is the great Scarecrow and his willing mistress, a foolish little mouse who lets a monster use her for his own pleasure.”
His words going straight to your cunt, your thighs rub together for only a moment before being forced apart by his hand as he guides his cock to your aching hole.
His mistress.
His dear one.
Sentimental musings quickly put to bed as he wraps his arm around your waist, thin fingers delving within your cleavage to grope roughly at your left tit as he sinks his cock within you in one sharp thrust; your cunt so wet and willing that he meets almost no resistance as he buries himself fully.
Body aching with need, you meet his savage thrusts with enthusiasm, pushing your ass against him as he ruts within you – his thin body pressing against your back and making you feel every inch of his presence as he consumes you, inside and out. Groaning and mewling, the noises reverberate in the alleyway until Crane’s fingers press into your mouth, two digits pressing down on your tongue to mute you as much as possible.
His free hand also snakes its way around your body as his long limbs allow him to access the front of your sex, a cruel finger quickly resuming his torment of your clit as you buck and writhe against him.
Of the things that you liked about him, his quick study and commitment to retaining your every reaction is certainly up there and your legs feel unstable as he manipulates the sensitive hood and skin surrounding your clit without touching the nub itself.
Unable to speak due to the fingers in your mouth, you bite down on the digits roughly and bask in the pained growl which issues into your ear as he retracts them. He responds in kind though, his breath hot on your neck for a moment before blunted teeth sink into your skin in a rough bite, his tongue massaging the mark as you arch your back into him.
“Dr. Crane!” You moan, the words punctuated by a shuddering breath as his cock continues to glance off your cervix in a deliciously uncomfortable way. “Jonathan, please, I-”
“I think I like it when you say my first name, witty girl.” His groin flush against your ass as he remains buried to the hilt within you, Crane’s breathing was stilted and punctuated by soft pants of exertion. “I should hear you beg with it more often.”
A statement which makes your cunt spasm as the heat and merciless pressure of his cock finally snaps the tight band of arousal which had been steadily building within your groin, your release hitting with a guttural groan as you bury your mouth within your forearm to mask the sound. Pleasure cascades through you as your cunt is filled and pulses around him.
Determined to reach his own end, Crane revels in the way which your cunt wraps around his cock, every spasm and clench of your orgasm pulling him deeper as it milks him for what it’s worth. His hand, mercifully, drops from your clit and instead returns to your chest, his fingers pinching viciously at your nipple as he uses your body for leverage.
You recognise the tell-tale warnings of his release before it hits. His breathing grows even more erratic as his thrusts grow sloppier, hands increasing their grip as if to pin you in place and leave you unable to escape while he marks you as his own. With an animalistic grunt that almost matches your own, his mouth presses against your neck as he buries his cock as deeply as possible within you.
Heat floods your cunt as you realise that, in the whirlwind of the moment, neither of you had bothered with any protection and the realisation makes you groan as you feel the fullness of his release coating your walls. Your birth control would take care of any peskiness but the sensation of him filling you in such a primal way makes your cunt spasm anew as you grind against him.
It’s not until he pulls out a few moments later that you relax your body, almost falling backwards into him as you feel him tucking his softening cock away. Your jacket and dress are still ruched up around your waist but you’re content to remain like this as you feel him shift your panties back into position. His fingers brush your sensitive hole and you shudder in place as you feel the wet discomfort of your mixed release as it leaks free of you to quickly stain the fabric – your thighs feeling just as damp due to his earlier teasing.
Your head feels light as Crane spins you in place, twisting you so that your back is now pressing against the cool brick of the wall. His face is flushed, the sharp features mellowed by his satisfaction but his eyes remain as piercing as ever, the irises appearing darker due to the dilation of his pupils.
“You’re going to walk home like this.” Crane purrs, his hand cupping your sex through the panties, smearing the mess there further with his fingers. “As a reminder of who you belong to and just how far the Scarecrow will go to teach his little mouse how to overcome her petty anxieties.”
The sticky mess between your legs is uncomfortable but hot as hell and you nod dumbly in agreement, the inhibition of the vodka mixing with the recently-fucked bliss to make you painfully compliant as you keep a soft hold of his shoulders for balance.
His hand pulls free from under your dress and he quickly fixes the rest of the material for you, tugging at the base to even out the hemline before adjusting the neckline to ensure that your chest was covered. Letting him do as he wished, you instead focus your attention on his expression, drinking in the familiar haze which settles across his features when he’s also freshly fucked and clearly pleased.
“Thank you for dinner.” You hum out once again, voice sated and almost drowsy as you allow him to take the lead and link his arm within your own – his auburn hair in a state of disarray due to the breeze and the sweat which sits on his hairline. “It was nice.”
His head turns to you as he fixes you with an unreadable expression.
“Think nothing of it. I feel it was somewhat overdue and owed.” He comments, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the shiver which consumes your upper body at the chilly evening. With a smooth movement, his hands slip within his pockets to pull free a pair of thin, dark gloves; his fingers quick to pass them to you silently as he presses you to place them on.
Thankful for the small gesture, you smile up at him as your thighs stick together uncomfortably with every small step. You pull the gloves on, the material clearly too big for you but effective nonetheless as it kept the cold from your fingers.
In the frigid night, the moon hanging high against the bleak sky, you tuck your body as closely to Crane’s as you reasonably can as you seek out something unspoken which you doubt he is capable of giving. He allows it though, his arm linked within your own acting as an anchor more than anything but his thoughts are his own as he mindlessly leads the way back to his warehouse hideout.
Bringing your free hand to your chin, you inhale deeply and find satisfaction in the fact that the thin leather of the gloves holds a muskiness which you recognise as something uniquely him and you allow that small comfort to warm your thoughts as you ignore the pleasant ache and fatigue which makes your body feel heavier than it should.
Still, not the worst dinner you had ever sat through.
#jonathan crane#scarecrow#jonathan crane x reader#scarecrow x reader#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x you#scarecrow x you#dc comics#batman villain#nolan scarecrow#comic scarecrow#cillian murphy smut
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False Pretenses
fwb!Jungkook x Reader
Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually
extend? Based on this meme.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side
washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope
you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple
weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few
months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.
“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤”
The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to
yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.
Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go
more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from
him.
You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before,
but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that
Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were
just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.
When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair
sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he
did when he was stressed.
“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.
“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said,
wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state
of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.
“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your
eyes. “Koo?”
“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”
“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.
He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair
again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but
I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess
and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.
You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re
unbelievable.”
“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll
buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”
You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our
Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”
He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”
You stared at him for a long moment.
“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could
never say no to him.
“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise
I’ll make it up to you!”
“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”
“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”
Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down
the hall.
“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.
“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”
“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”
“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.
“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy
system.”
“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”
“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your
teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.
He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as
he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.
“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.
“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the
task at hand.
You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you
down.
“Thank you.” He said.
“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”
The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you
several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all
the bedding.
“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his
bed.
“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.
You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”
“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”
“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out
a huff of laughter.
“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.
“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh
sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind
my back for a second there.”
Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he
looked at you. “I would never.”
It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found
yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like
things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till
you found something more serious.
“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished
making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.
“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.
“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.”
You said, earning another laugh from him.
“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.
“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?”
He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips
You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have
to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”
“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your
waist instead to keep you close.
“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.
“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my
parents like getting to meet my friends.”
“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.
“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.
“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”
“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing
slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in
a soft tone.
The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand
why.
“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”
You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family,
regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.
“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.
He beamed.
“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over
yours lightly, making you shiver.
You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to
deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist
tightened.
When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down
at you, breathing heavily.
“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.
“But I thought you said-?”
“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl
@bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho
@a-gayish-unicorn
#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook smut#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook drabble#jungkook fluff#fwb!jungkook#bts drabble#bts one shot#bts x y/n#bts x reader#bts scenarios#bts fluff#bts requests#7ndipity
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Hello! I saw your post you're open for a request and I was wondering if I could I have OPLA Sanji?
About Sanji fall in love towards reader but reader was hesitate and unsure if Sanji is being sincere it's like she's having trust issues since Sanji is considered a ladies' man or flirty and was afraid he'll broke her heart?
A/N IMPORTANT: Hey, thank you for your request Anon ! I had to confess that it was kind of a hard one for me because well...trust issu hit close from home and I just start to write that angst even if it was not my specialty, but I really like the result and I hope you will too !
Trust Issues
OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji
Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.
—
Love wasn’t your cup of tea. Sure, the idea of a partner supporting and adoring you like you deserve was cute. But, in your opinion, you have already done enough. After all, your last relationship has resulted as becoming a pirate and being abandoned by your lover to save his ass. And, If the humiliation hadn’t been enough, not long after your escape for the marines, you had seen him parading with his new lady wrapped around his arm. Like if you hadn’t existed at all.
So, nobody could blame you if you had some trust issues and an aversion for ladie’s man.
It’s why you knew the minute you saw his smile what Vinsmoke Sanji was : A pretty flirt.
If it was only you, you had refused his presence on the ship, but, like Luffy had said, the Going Merry needed a cook and the man was a hell of a fighter. As the morning came, you couldn’t also deny the fact that he looked incredibly good in his suit, his bag on his shoulder, ready to come aboard. Smiling at the instant he spotted you.
“ Hello Madam, I'm glad we met again. Can I say that you seem even more beautiful in this sunlight” He offered, from the dock, as you were sitting on the main deck rail adjusting a rope.
“ You may, but it doesn't mean I will accept the compliment. Luffy is on the upper deck if you search him” You coldly replied, trying to shut down your traitor heart. You will not fall for another pretty face, never.
“ I didn’t expect much Madam, thank you for the information “ Sanji replied, his mood in nothing affected by your coldness. Sure, he had hoped for a warmer welcome, but after serving you the night before and found himself unable to turn his gaze away from your beauty. He was satisfied with just being part of the same crew as you, the rest would come later he had assumed.
It took, in fact, way longer than he first thought. For the entire few weeks he had been on board, you hadn’t looked or talked to him except to thank him for the food or urgent matters.
Many times, the crew had tried to talk to you, asking you to be more nice with Sanji. But, even if you could feel his charm often softened your shield, your stubbornness was even stronger.
It wasn’t easy for Sanji either. He knew you clearly disliked him without knowing why. When, on his part, the more he was admiring you, watching you laugh with the others, hearing your brilliant plan, watching you gracefully climb the cordage and being as stubborn as him. Make him love you even more. Everyday, he was trying to charm you, offering you compliments, taking an interest in what you were doing or simply making you the best food he could. But, nothing worked, you answered him quickly and as coldly as always.
It'll take another two months and a storm before Sanji has enough.
The rain was falling for hours,helped by a wind so strong that you had to close one of the sails to avoid drifting away. Each two hours or so, the members of the crew were making a rotation, trying as much as possible to not fatigue themself too much and end up falling into the water.
You were the only one still standing, drenched by the cold rain, your muscles sore by the force necessary to keep the helm stable. Multiple times Nami and Usopp had tried to push you to take a rest or at least eat something warm, but each time you refused resolutely, you would pass that storm and rest after.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji was finishing his soup, preparing three bowls for the crew member who will come downstairs to take their rest. As he prepared himself for going upstairs, doing his part, the blond chef saw Nami and Usopp going down the stairs, alone. You aren’t with them, again.
“ Where Y/N ” He asked, already knowing the answer.
“ She refuses to budge of the helm. we tried to talk to her but it’s like talking to a rock” Nami replied, wrapping herself in a big towel.
“ I’ll come back, I will bring her here “ Sanji only replied, his happy mood now sour. It wasn’t rare in the time who’s he was running the restaurant with Zeff that he lost his temper. He had lost it already a time or two during battle, but against another member of the crew,it was a first.
Making his way to the helm, he looked at you, already knowing it will not be easy. But, to be sure you’re in security, he was ready to fight you if he had to.
“ Y/N, your time has long passed, I will replace you. I prepared a dry towel and warm soup in the kitchen. Go take some rest “ He first tried.
“ I’m not tired or hungry “ You simply replied with your gaze focused on the horizon.
“ Then I’m afraid I have to excuse myself Darling “ Profiting from an adjustment of your position, he then proceeds to lift you on his shoulder, easily dodging all your attacks, as he was getting you down in the ship to dry both of you.
“ How dare you ! “ You scream, shaking of rage and cold. As he sits you on one of the kitchen stools and throws a dry towel at you. “ I was perfectly fine !”
“ You were on a trip to catch death ! “Sanji replied sharply, his gaze dark and his wet form in a stiff posture with anger “ I don’t know what I exactly did to make you dislike me like that, but I can care for you if you do some stupid things like that ! “
“ Then just don’t care about me and go flirt somewhere else !!” You angrily answered.
Taken aback, Sanji tilted his head, frowning his eyebrow, clearly confused.
“ Wait…what…You dislike me…because I flirted with you ?“ He slowly asked, trying to understand your point.
“ I just don’t understand why you haven't given up yet ! I had already done with the damn flirty kind, go charm your other ladies and leave me alone ! “
" My other…” Sanji starts disbelief. “ I don’t give up because I care for you…stubborn woman! " Sanji tried to say. Never had he thought that it was his manner that you hated so much. " But if my affection isn't required, fine, eat and rest, that's all I ask " He sighs ,disappearing upstairs.
A long and heavy silence fell in the kitchen after he left, leaving you with a curiously heavy heart and some concerned gaze of Nami and Usopp eating their soup. After a while, you sigh, defeated and take yourself a bowl. As always, the dish was perfectly balanced and delicious.
" You know y/n...I know your story, I understand, I do. But…Sanji didn't flirt with any woman aside from you for months…I think he genuinely likes you, " Nami softly spoke. "Of course I'm not you and you have all the right to act like you do, but it’s not Sanji's fault. He’s not him… and I think the day he will stop caring for you, you will realize it’s will be maybe too late”.
“ Maybe “ You admit, finishing your food before leave it into the sink and heading to the door” I will sleep a little, wake me up when it will be our turn again please “
But she never woke you up and when you opened your eyes, the sun was shining again on another day.
Sanji wasn’t the kind of man who'd give up easily, neither on his dream nor on the people he loved. But, even with his flirty tendency, respecting women and their wishes was a priority. It’s why, even if it cost him and that your word had wounded him, on that sunny day, he started to restrict at the minimum his attention to you.
And you noticed it immediately. His gaze on you, usually full of affection, was now more distant, he didn’t ask you if you had slept well, nor if you would like something in particular for breakfast, he simply put an omelet in front of you, smiled politely and returned to his occupation. Yes, for Sanji it was odd, but, as a ladie’s man you give him a week before going back to his old habit.
Luckily for you, life decided to give both of you a hand.
Your estimation could never be more wrong. After two weeks of polite but cold Sanji, you were almost wishing you never had that fight. Your traitor heart was missed his radiant smile toward you, his compliments for every little detail of your person or the way he tried to know every one of your favorite things. But you had broken it and you were now unsure how to repair it. Excuse could probably do the charm, but your stubbornness was always blocking you, estimating that protecting your heart wasn't shameful.
The Going Merry was anchored alongside an island, doing his needed resupply. As the last barrel had been brought on board, you followed the idea of Zoro and decided to join your companions for a drink at the little bar on the beach.
But, as you put your foot in the small place, you froze, your mind resuming to a static white noise. Your ex, already another lady at his arm, was installed with his crew at the largest table of the little tavern.
“ Hey Y/N come here, that table is free ! “ Luffy exclaimed, not noticing your stiffness.
“ Y/N is that you ! Damn girl, I haven't seen you since you were surrounded by Marines ! I own you for this one, how did you escape ?! “ The despicable man shouted, clearly more happy to see you, than you were to see him. “ Darla, that girl was... my most loyal crew member. “He explained to the girl at his side “Look at you, have you always been that pretty ? “
The compliment was the last straw that snapped you out of your shock. How could he talk to you so casually after all you had endured because of him. Doesn’t he have an ounce of regret or shame ?!
“ I escaped on my own after you had cowardly abandoned me ! “ You replied, as Sanji placed himself behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in support.
“ Y/N, that man clearly doesn’t deserve your time, come, the drink will arrive soon” He tried, giving a hard look at the pathetique Captain who was now coming a you, his hand scratching his hair, gauging if Sanji was a menace for his future plan with you or not.
“ Not deserving of his time, I had already two years of her time mate, go sip your beer and let us discuss. Y/N and I have many things to talk about. I haven’t abandoned her, I knew she could escape, she’s a smart cat. Aren't you Sweet pea”
“ I have nothing to say to you, thank you Sanji but I’m not in the mood. Being in the same room as him would suck all the joy I have. I will be on the ship. “ You simply replied, making your exit before tears ran down your cheeks.
Sat on the upper deck, watching the night sky, the fresh wind drying your last tears, you saw Sanji came back onboard. Without a word, he simply sat beside you and offered you the bottle he was keeping in his hand.
“ Zoro sent his regards and I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. I had tried to respect your wish, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight. I can’t not care for you and that man was...he shouldn’t ever treat a lady as you like that. Maybe now he had learn “
“ Sanji, what did you do? “ You asked, strangely touched that he had actually take your defense even after you had left.
“ I kicked his pathetic and disgraceful ass. I couldn’t tolerate the way he was looking at you, talking to you...But I understand now how my behavior led you to dislike me when I arrived, But I assure you that…”
“ I know, “ You said your heart, still fragile, beating faster.” You aren’t him and I should have waited to know you. I was scared, I didn’t want to like you because I was afraid to repeat the same story. But even if I tried, I realize when you had stop to caring for me that I miss it, I missed you…a lot“
Suddenly unusually shy, his cheeks a slightly shade of faded pink in the dark, Sanji avoided your gaze, a joyful smile spreading on his lips.
“ I suggest that we start over. We can't forget all those months but we can restart our relationship.I can’t wait to truly know you Y/N” He tell, finally planting in gaze in yours, that lost spackles in his eyes, the one you though forever vanish, back even brighter that ever.
“ I can’t wait too, Sanji “ You softly smile.
___
Your first kiss with Sanji happened a little shorter than a month later. At exactly the same spot.
Since that night, you have made a habit of watching the sky together, sharing stories, passions and thoughts. Even if the blond cook, not without surprise, seems to find the constellation less appealing than your sweet view at his side. But, you slowly adapted yourself to his flirting and even often replied, to his joy.
It was in one of those moments, as you turned your head to point to him a group of stars that Sanji captured your lips, answering your heart's deepest desire from months and even probably since the tall man had put a foot on the deck.
Somewhere on the lower level of the ship, you hear the playful screams and wolf whistles of your friends. But, as he captured your lips for another kiss you couldn't care less. You had an amazing group of friends, the sea was peaceful and with the help of Sanji, your heart finally started to heal.
#opla!sanji x reader#sanji x reader#one piece netflix#opla#opla sanji#vinesmoke sanji x reader#one piece#one piece sanji#opla vinesmoke sanji x reader#sanji x y/n#Request#Sanji Request
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ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ
"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ,
ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."
Word count: 3,800.
Fandom: House of the Dragon.
Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.
MEETING - 1. Her.
Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable determination, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."
Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.
Every night, in silent prayers, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."
Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound.
Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.
She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.
Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.
Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.
"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.
"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.
"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg.
"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.
"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.
"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.
"Thank you, Jace."
"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.
He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.
"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.
"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"
"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.
"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.
"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.
"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.
"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.
"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.
"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.
Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.
"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.
"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.
Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.
"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."
She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.
Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.
"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.
"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."
"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."
She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"
"It's beyond our understanding."
She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.
Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.
"Your grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.
"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"
"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.
"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.
Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?
"They gave me a pig!"
"A what?" the queen asked.
"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.
She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.
"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.
Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.
"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.
The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.
She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.
It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.
She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.
"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."
"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.
"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.
"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.
"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.
"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.
"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"
"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.
"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.
"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.
"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.
"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."
She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.
There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.
She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.
They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.
Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.
She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.
"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.
"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.
She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.
She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.
Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.
Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.
Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.
She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.
It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.
The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.
She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so she cleared her throat and, with her book in hand, marched towards him.
Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.
She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.
She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.
He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.
How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.
Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.
"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom."
She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."
Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"
"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.
"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.
"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.
"Yes, of course."
"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.
"Yes, I did."
"Did you see any?"
"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.
"Gods! You must have been so terrified."
"Not really" he simply responded.
"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.
She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.
Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.
It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.
"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.
"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.
Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.
"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.
"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.
"Goodnight, my prince."
"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.
"Nothing would make me happier."
#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#house of the dragon#house targaryen#prince aemond#aemond one eye#hotd fanfic#hotd aemond#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fluff
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lessi as the godmother!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 no rush but please may you write a mini pt 2 where reader has given birth and less meets the baby for the first time<33
sequel to this and part of the a date to remember universe series
godmother II m.earps
"lets fucking go baby!" you yelled at the tv, clapping your hands happily as your wife saved another attempt on goal. it was mid WSL season and since you were so far along now at your doctors advice your wife had promptly banned you from leaving the house for anything not completely necessary, like appointments or your pre-natal classes.
you'd been trying to argue for the last few weeks that to you watching mary play was necessary, but she would just shut you up with a kiss and a firm shake of her head, ending any chance of an argument right there and then.
your wife had always been protective of you by nature throughout the entire time you'd known her, however given you were now pregnant she had become over protective. which meant you found yourself regularly having to bite your tongue not to tear her head off with how she fussed over you.
thats not to say you hadn't snapped.
pregnancy hormones were no joke and some days your wife found herself walking on eggshells, cautious that one wrong word or action would cause you to tip over the edge, your volatile moods becoming incredibly unpredictable.
though she knew it wasn't your fault and more often than not the moment you'd finished yelling you'd burst into tears and apologize, your wife assuring you over and over with soft and loving kisses that she wasn't mad and she understood it was out of your control.
but despite how much mary over worried, she was also your saving grace.
if it was holding up your stomach to allow your back a few brief moments of reprise from its dragging weight, rubbing your very swollen feet, massaging your back and shoulders, putting up with your mood swings, going to the shops at all hours of the day and night to satisfy every little pregnancy craving, if there was any way at all she could make your life easier in any possible way, she was there in an instant, and you adored her for it.
"get in tooney!" you yelled with a cheer, struggling to your feet and pumping your first in the air as the girl scored the equaliser in their match against liverpool, watching with a proud smile as she celebrated with the team, alessia the first one to pull her up and into a tight bear hug.
you heard a strange sound and grabbed at your stomach as a wave of pain suddenly rolled through you. "oh fuck. not now, please not now!" you begged, looking up at the ceiling with your eyes squeezed closed, in denial of what you know you had just heard.
sure enough looking down there was a large wet patch on the carpet and you groaned as another wave of pain rocked your body. sitting down and taking a deep breath you grabbed your phone, hands shaking as you unlocked it and flicked through your contacts to your mother in law.
"hi julie! um no everything is fine...but i think my waters just broke?"
~
"i'm here! i'm here! i'm here! no one panic!" you breathed out a sigh of relief as the door to your room smacked open and mary stumbled inside, still clad in her keepers kit, face blotchy and red as she squatted down, baby hairs clinging to her forehead which was matted in sweat.
"give me a minute babe oh my god that elevator was taking ages so i ran up like six flights of stairs. jesus!" mary puffed out as she struggled to catch her breath, bent over with her hands on her knees.
"you missed the birth mary." you stated quietly, the woman almost falling to her feet at the news, eyes as wide as saucers. "what!? why the fuck did no one call me?" your wife spat angrily, beginning to pace around at the foot of your bed.
"nah only joking. we've taught her well babe she waited for her mum to finish her game before arriving!" your face broke out into a grin, the colour returning to marys as she collapsed into the seat beside your bed, pincing the bridge of her nose.
"i swear on my life woman if you weren't pregnant i'd punch you."
"excuse me darling which one of us in labor right now?"
"right! sorry my love. how are you? how far apart are the contractions? whats the pain one to ten? have you seen a doctor? is there a nurse nearby? have-"
"mary baby breathe!" you laughed, struggling up and gently grabbing her face, your thumbs stroking her jaw affectionately.
"i'm okay, just uncomfortable. its hard to explain but everything just feels really tight and sore? its still early stages, the contractions are about nine minutes apart when they timed them. they said my water broke prematurely which though rare does happen and doesn't mean theres any complications before your mind goes there." you explained as your wife placed her hands over yours, bringing them to her mouth and tenderly kissing the tips of your fingers with a nod.
"the doctors not been in yet and he won't until the contractions are closer together, but the midwives have been great. they should come back around in a few minutes actually so you can talk their ear off with your questions then. your mum just popped out to call my mum, she and my dad are getting on the first flight they can." you continued, smiling and giving your a little nod to show you were finished.
"thank god she picked up when you called. baby i told you i shouldn't have played today, what if no one was there to bring you to hospital!" mary sighed with a frustrated shake of her head, resting her chin on your intertwined hands, you almost having to lock her out of the house in order for her to leave this morning.
"then i'd have called an ambulance my love. you did play, and from what i hear you won so im glad that you did. i got here safely, you got here in time, everything worked out best as it could have. so stop being stroppy!" you smiled, gently pulling away your hands and teasingly flicking her ear before settling back into the hospital bed.
"i'm not bein stroppy!"
"your moody little pout says very differently."
"i'm not! i just love you and our daughter very very much and i worry about you both, you know that."
"i know love, but you know at your age you have to be careful about worrying so much, you'll get grey hairs."
"i'm hardly two years older than you are!"
"I know you're ancient, should be criogenically frozen in a football museum somewhere."
"baby i pray every day she doesn't inherit your sense of humour, i don't think i could handle two of you it would drive me to insanity."
"mary!"
~
"sit love! i'll get it." your wife remanded as the doorbell rang, rolling your eyes with a small smile as you sat back down, hearing her footsteps hurry off toward the door.
"where is she? where's my little niece? her favourite aunty is here!"
"you wish you were her favourite tooney, she won't even pay you a second glance once she see's her godmother is here!"
"she's one month old she won't care about either of you, and she's finally been sleeping for more than twenty minutes so shut up, the pair of you!"
you heard the girls before you saw them, hearing mary harshly shush them and a loud smack echo out where she'd clearly whacked one of them, ella whining as she entered the room.
"muuum she hit me!" the midfielder pouted in your direction as you chuckled and opened your arms, the younger girl collapsing into them as you wrapped her in a hug. "stop hitting the kids babe!" you teased your wife, alessia lifting your arm and tucking herself into your other side.
"i'm too young to have three kids." the woman mumbled, rubbing at her temples with an overdramatic sigh. "aw great now she's disowned us!" ella continued sending you a cheeky grin. "baby thats not very nice, say sorry to the girls. you know you love them!" you wound up your wife who shook her head, biting back a smile.
"i am going to check on our actual daughter." mary announced with a roll of her eyes, disappearing out of the room. "i love you babe!" you sung out after her with a smile, hearing her grumble as her footsteps faded away.
"so how are you feeling? we've missed you!" alessia asked as ella nodded eagerly, the two of them not moving from where the three of you were wrapped up together in a hug. "yeah mary runs a tight ship! told us we wasn't even allowed to facetime you until she said so." ella pouted with a huff as you ruffled her hair.
"i feel heavy, tired, fat. i haven't slept properly since she arrived, the bags under my eyes have bags, and i think this is the only jumper i currently own which doesn't have sick or some sort of bodily fluid on it." you paused to chuckle and look down at the faded red material covering your body.
"but she's also the best thing that has ever happened to me. i love her so much i would die for her in an instant, her tiny little fingers and toes and her squishy little cheeks man. she's got me and mary by the throat!" you teared up, overwhelmed by the love you felt for your daughter as both girls either side of you aweed and hugged you tighter.
"speaking of, look who just woke up." ella and alessia's heads whipped behind them with wide eyes as mary returned, gently cradling your new born daughter in her arms. "oh my god she's tiny." alessia whispered with a small squeal of excitement, marys face melting into a soft smile seeing the obvious excitement from the two girls.
"do you both want a hold?" your wife offered, eyes flickering toward you as you nodded encouragingly, knowing how much it worried her to have anyone that wasn't the two of you to do so, but you were working through it together.
"shit but how do you do that? don't they have like no bones? and their heads are soft like jelly? their skulls are like-" ella began to panic, rubbing her palms on her shorts. "language around the baby el!" you warned, shoving her shoulder as she hastily apologized.
"yes they are very fragile, but if you want to hold her i'll show you how." you smiled reassuringly, watching the cogs turn in her head. "less can go first!" she decided as you glanced to the blonde on your other side who was busy staring adoringly at the little bundle of limbs in your wifes arms.
"less?"
"hm?"
"do you want to have a hold?"
"oh yes please."
"okay, sit back and get comfortable." you ordered softly as you stood and mary carefully handed you your daughter, pressing a kiss to your cheek and tenderly stroking your daughters hand with her thumb.
"are you okay? its fine if you need some time, they say it normally takes around five minutes to be properly comfortable with holding a newborn baby." mary checked in with the younger blonde who nodded that she was ready.
"so the most important thing is to support the head and the neck." mary started to explain, taking a seat beside alessia who nodded, following her every word. "so very carefully take her-" mary continued as you gently handed over the baby to the striker.
"breathe less." you chuckled as she exhaled shakily, almost trembling as she very gently took your daughter from you, mary shuffling closer to help her adjust.
"so you want her stomach to always be angled toward you, and her back will rest on your forearm. then you'll support her head in the crook of your elbow and your hand can rest there-" mary gently moved alessias arm as ella watched on in awe.
"-and now you're holding her less." mary smiled proudly, squeezing her shoulder and shuffling back a bit as alessia looked up at you in shock. "wow!" ella breathed out in shock. "you're a natural less." the girl complimented as alessias eyes dropped back down to the newborn cradled in her arms.
"this is so weird, like im holding a whole human right now."
"yeah its a bit overwhelming at first but you're doing great less."
"hi gorgeous i'm alessia. i'm your godmum but you can just call me aunty lessi!" the blonde smiled as you sat down on marys lap, feeling her arms wrap securely around you as she pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder before resting her chin there, both of you watching on fondly as ella began to interact with your daughter who was tucked up securely in alessia's hold.
"have you accepted we've got three daughters now?" you quietly murmured to your wife with a teasing smile, pecking her lips and feeling her body vibrate under yours with a soft chuckle.
"yeah, i think i have."
#woso x reader#mary earps x reader#mary earps#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo#ella toone#ella toone x reader#woso#woso imagine#engwnt#woso blurbs#woso fanfics
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Day 30: scary movies
Masterlist flufftober 🎀
The translations of the French sentences are at the end and I give special thanks to @cumulo-stratus for helping me check that they were fine. I hope you like it!
“We're here,” Spencer announced, although that was obvious, when he parked the convertible car that Rossi had very kindly offered to lend to you.
Now that Halloween was so close, the doctor had invited the entire team to the drive-in theater for the broadcast in its original language of Eyes Without a Face, a 1960 French film, but everyone had found an excuse not to attend. Most of them refused due to their ignorance of the language and Emily, who was the only one who spoke it as fluently as Spencer, already had plans that night.
“I can go with you” you had said kindly. In other circumstances you might not have accepted, but now it made you feel guilty leaving your friend alone. In addition, the plans with him were always calm and, to a certain extent, educational "But I warn you that all I know how to say in French is Bonjour”
Your friend was happy with your response and he asked you not to worry, telling you that all you had to do was take it to him so he could translate the words for you. So Rossi told you that he would collaborate on one of his cars and Spencer almost died when he saw it, not because he was a big fan but because he was worried about how much money he would have to pay if he made the slightest scratch on it.
“There are more people than I imagined,” you murmured, nodding toward the rest of the parking lot. The majority were couples, as expected, and a few older adults.
“It was a very popular story during that time, despite the censorship it involved. We once had a similar case in… Well, I'll remind you when we finish watching it. I don't want to ruin anything for you," he murmured, smiling.
That night he had chosen an outfit that was quite common to see him in at the office: brown cardigan, an argyle vest, formal shirt, and tie. Everything was fine with that, what was really driving you crazy lately was the hair. Spencer styled his hair in a certain way that… you couldn't explain it, he just made you think of Prince Charming in fairy tales.
And the fact that you started to see it that way didn't help a damsel like you at all.
“It's okay if you can't translate the entire film. Just telling me a couple of lines is enough, I will be guided by what I see”
“No, that's not a problem. I can do it"
Of course you knew he could do it, it was Doctor fucking Reid. You were just worried that you would end up more focused on his whispering lips than on the screen in front of you.
Luckily the movie started and you managed to maintain the necessary composure. Luckily your brain was able to pay attention to what you saw, what you heard, and what Spencer was murmuring to you. At first you may have only agreed to accompany him out of kindness, but as the story progressed you realized that it was actually good. Little by little you were remembering a case that, as he had said, you had investigated, but that should probably be a talk for after finishing the movie.
You had to admit that something was captivating about the French language, because even if you didn't understand a thing they said, it was nice to hear it.
Calme-toi, ma chérie.
Faites-lui confiance.
One of the characters murmured and a second later you heard Spencer with the respective translation.
“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him”
"Repeat that"
“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him?”
“No,” you murmured, seeing him frown as if he didn’t understand your request. “Repeat what he said, in French.”
The idea had come from God knows where and you had only mentioned it in the heat of the moment, otherwise you would never have asked him. It was just that the words had sounded so exquisite that you wondered if the soft voice of the man next to you would replicate them in the same way.
Spencer wanted to ask you why you wanted that, but he was afraid of ruining his only chance to impress you with his skills, so he just turned enough so you could see him better and mentally visualize the words he needed.
When he leaned a little towards you to have more privacy you felt his breath hit your neck and adding to the soft aroma of his cologne that reached your nose you felt slightly dizzy.
If a single action had been enough to make your entire body shake, it probably would have been hearing Spencer Reid whispering French in your ear.
“Calme-toi, ma chérie. Faites-lui confiance”
“Once again,” you laughed, thankful that the low lighting didn’t allow you to see a blush on your cheeks.
"Why?" he said amused, thinking that perhaps it was prudent to inquire about your request.
“I don't know, when you talk it you sound so…” so sexy “nice. Like feeling velvet between your fingers”
Spencer was definitely flattered by you, you could tell by the way he chuckled and his body flinched slightly.
“I don't sound that good because I haven't practiced French for a long time, but my mom wants to go to Paris one day so if we go together, I'll be able to do it. I learned it a few years ago, it is a somewhat difficult language”
“Can you say anything else?” you asked excitedly, as you scooted a little further against him to the point where your knee brushed his and your faces were just a short distance away “I mean, of course you can, but could you do it?”
“Huh, what do you want me to tell you?”
“Whatever,” you smiled sweetly. You weren't even paying attention to the movie anymore, which was playing in the background, but you only had eyes for him and his pretty face.
Spencer's face. Your co-worker.
Despite the inappropriate course that your thoughts had taken, you kept watching him while he thought for a few seconds what he was going to say to satisfy your curiosity. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he tilted his head slightly and you swore it was almost as if he wanted to maneuver his lips to yours.
“Je pense que tu es vraiment belle”
The phrase was just a caress, a feather sliding across your ears that managed to stop your breathing and accelerate your heart rate. Maybe French was called the language of love for a reason.
"What does it mean?" you asked in barely a whisper.
But Spencer didn't respond, he just stared at you and for a second you thought his attention had been diverted to your parted lips.
“Keep watching the movie or you'll miss the best part.”
“Spencer, what does it mean?”
“There he is saying that she can be admitted tomorrow morning.”
“Spencer,” you said sternly. Even with the tone of your voice, he did not look to your side, pretending to be extremely interested in the movie playing, “What did you tell me?”
“You only wanted to hear me speak in French, you never asked for a translation”
“Reid!” You complained, extending your hand to his arm to get his attention and force him to look at you. “I swear if you offended me…”
“Je ne t'offenserais jamais”
“Stop it,” you threatened him, pointing a finger at him and frowning.
“Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser”
You responded to that with an exasperated sigh and suddenly a scream that you didn't expect on the screen startled you greatly, causing you to instinctively jump into his arms.
It was an absolute, cheap cliché, but that didn't make it any less romantic.
"You see? Pay attention” was all he said, with a tone that showed how much fun he seemed to be having.
You readjusted yourself in your seat without saying anything and obeyed his words, looking at the strange black-and-white scene. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Spencer lick his lips before he started shouting explanations about the story again which you listened to carefully, trying not to think too much about what the two sentences he had told you meant but which would keep you curious for the rest of the night.
Suddenly you felt him stir next to you and raise both arms, as if he wanted to stretch his back, while a yawn left his lips. What really caught your attention was feeling that one of his limbs, the one that was close to you, when getting off was placed on the edge of the seat behind your back and not on his lap as it should be.
“Tell me you didn’t do that.”
"Do what?" he asked, but from the stutter in his voice you knew he knew well what you meant.
“That's the most common tactic on earth,” you muttered between laughs. Spencer lowered his head as if he were embarrassed and ready to take his arm away from you, but you raised your hand until you took his and slid a little so that you were leaning against his body. “But I'll let it go just because you're cute.”
Cute. The word resonated in Spencer's mind and warmed his cheeks, while he felt how you settled your head better on his chest and began to caress the back of his hand with your thumb. You were so soft and warm he felt like he was going to die.
“Where is my star translator?” he heard you say and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.
You stayed in that position for the rest of the show while he whispered in your ear and you listened to the soft beat of his heart, feeling that, at least for one night, the world belonged only to the two of you.
Translation
"I think you are really beautiful" (Je pense que tu es vraiment belle)
"I would never offend you" (Je ne t'offenserais jamais)
“If I could, I would erase this angry face with a kiss” (Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser)
taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid x you#flufftober 2023#prompt list#writing challenge#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble
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