#i have never felt more pleasantly warm in my entire life

[13uswntimagines]

Promises We Make (Lindsey Horan x Soulmate!R)

Request: A Lindsey x reader soulmate AU where people know they're soulmates because they share dreams with them. Something angsty and happy and a lot of things.

Author's note: Wow, this has been a crazy long time coming. I think I have almost 2 years of planning, writing and re-writing in this fic. It’s a bit different than the original. It includes some new scenes and things that I meant to put in but never physically did. It feels like a little piece of my soul, so I really hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, I’m always down to chat. Hit me up with questions or concerns. 

 Without Further ado: 

You had never understood when people said that the dreams you shared with your soulmate were more vivid. It was hard for your brain to wrap itself around the idea that everything was more intense in the shared dreams, especially the first one. 

You didn’t understand until you blinked into consciousness. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the immediate kaleidoscope of colors that met you. A deep blue sky with cotton-like clouds lazily drifting in the wind. The sun peeked out at you from behind them, its rays landing pleasantly on your face, a light breeze fluttering around you. 

Your fingers wound through the cool grass under you, as you pushed yourself to a sitting position. 

It was nice, even if you weren’t quite sure where you were. 

The comfortability of it all felt like lead in your stomach, countering the inherently light feeling of your surroundings. This was the moment you had been dreading for your entire life. The dream you had been dreading for your entire life. 

The dream you hadn’t been sure you would ever have. 

You blew out a shuddering breath, your eyes tracing a netless goal at the far end of the field and a rusty teeter-totter nestled behind it in a halfhearted effort to follow your therapist's technique for quelling the growing butterflies in your chest. 

Her advice never worked, but still, you tried. 

You drew your eyes along the heavy chain link fence that sprouted from the back corner of the goal and encased the field, separating it from the tall trees that acted as a shield for a low brick building. 

The leaves were alight with the warm oranges and browns of fall, rippling in time with the drifting breeze like the hands of fans as you made your final lap around the stadium. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out. 

You supposed that they were the only spectators in a place like this, even if you still weren’t sure where you were. You could tell it was a school playground, possibly from childhood, but it wasn’t from your childhood. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out. 

Or maybe they were a divine sign. A premonition flashing red, orange, and yellow, warning you of the incoming storm. Like the creak of a door before the monster appeared in a movie. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out. 

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled at the light crinkle of grass behind you. The first indication that you weren’t alone. 

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out.

“Hey, fancy meeting you here,” 

Her voice immediately sent a shiver down your spine, untangling the suffocating knot that had formed around your lungs. It had goosebumps appearing up and down your arms and legs. 

You should have been surprised, but you weren’t. 

Your head turned to look back over your shoulder, and suddenly your breath was gone again. 

You gulped, trying not to think about how the sun filtering through her blonde hair reminded you so much of a halo. How the sight alone was enough to ease the bubbling dread in your stomach. She had been through almost everything with you. You and your heart had always been safe with her. 

She wouldn’t hurt you.

“Hey Linds,” You smiled softly. 

The smile she returned didn’t quite meet her eyes. “There’s a set of swings over there if you wanna chat?” She gestured to your left, shifting on her feet awkwardly. 

You nodded, pushing yourself up noting how soft the grass felt under your bare feet following after her. It felt natural. You had been following her for nearly all of your adult life. 

The two of you had met in France when you were barely 17 and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you were attached at the hip. She had stubbornly forced her way beyond the wall your childhood had built and into your heart. You undoubtedly loved her, even if you were too afraid to admit it. 

You resisted the urge to take her hand as you walked, one that you had never experienced in real life. She always reserved hand-holding for her significant others, and it was one of the few lines that the two of you had never blurred (except in France, but that didn’t count). 

 The walk over to the small, blue-gray swing set was quiet, but the two of you had never been uncomfortable in silence. It was familiar, warm. The silence was full of safety, even as you settled on the plastic seat. 

“Where are we, exactly?” You asked, your fingers wrapping tightly around the chain, the nail of your thumb picking at the slightly peeling paint, and your toes digging into the dip in the ground underneath you. 

It made you feel like you were in middle school, talking to a girl you liked for the first time, not sure what to say or how to say it. Putting your feelings into words had never been your strong suit. 

She cleared her throat, the crinkles by her eyes tightening for a long second as she began to swing slowly, her cleats scratching against the ground. “My elementary school,” 

More silence stretched between you, and you watched her closely. It unsettled you how her eyes remained glued to her cleats, how she wouldn't look up at you. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. Shouldn’t you both be happy? Shouldn’t she feel as relieved as you felt? 

The two of you had been dancing around this thing for so long and now it all made sense. You didn’t have to be afraid of how you were so drawn to each other anymore. You could allow yourself to feel.

But Lindsey didn’t look relieved. 

“I don’t want things to change between us,” She said, her voice barely audible, rough with emotions that you didn’t quite understand, the tip of her cleat kicking up a clump of dirt. 

“I don’t think it has to,” You said slowly, reaching out to catch her hand hoping she would look at you. “We can take this slow, and figure it out as we go,”

You weren’t sure how the whole soulmate thing was supposed to work. You had honestly never believed in soulmates, but you were willing to try.

You would be willing to do just about anything for her. 

Another beat of silence passed between you, and you squeezed her hand once in reassurance. It would all be alright. The two of you could make it through anything together. 

Lindsey dragged her gaze up. You sucked in a deep breath as red-rimmed blue finally met you.  “I have a boyfriend Y/n. I love him.” 

It felt like a knife, sharp and slow slipping into your chest, finding its way perfectly between your ribs. A cold ache diffused from the point of your heart and you resisted the urge to see if she had actually stabbed you. 

“I love him,”

The second half of her sentence pinged around your head like the metal bearing in a pinball machine. It echoed everything you were already aware of, everything your mother had told you before you moved out. 

You knew she loved you too, but she couldn’t love you the way you had always loved her. She wasn’t in love with you. She couldn’t be in love with you because she was in love with him. 

You weren’t worthy of her love. 

You swallowed hard. “Oh,” 

The word was forced and showed more of your pain than you wanted her to see. It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t love you. That was all on you. 

“I don’t want things to change between us,” She said, her voice edging on pleading, willing you to understand. She squeezed your now limp fingers tightly. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose you,” 

You hadn’t even realized you let go of her hand.

The knife twisted in your chest, its tip scratching at your lungs with each breath you sucked past your lips. One little push and it would rip you wide open. You couldn’t bear to lose her, even if it hurt to not. 

You didn’t know how to be without her. 

“You won’t,” 

The promise was soft, scratchy, filled with all the words you wanted to say, but couldn’t bring yourself to let out. You had never made her a promise you didn’t keep, but you weren’t sure you would be able to see this one through. 

You had to try for her. 

It would make her happy, and as her soulmate, that was all that should matter to you. 

Her shoulders instantly relaxed, and you tried not to think about how the knife wiggled a little more at her relief. You tried not to think about how the warning from the trees had been right. 

She squeezed your fingers again, tugging you off of your swing and into a hug. 

“Thank you for understanding,” 

You shivered at how her lips grazed your neck with the words. They tickled and ached all at the same time. 

You did understand. 

“Yeah. Anything for you,” You mumbled, tucking your nose against her collarbone, breathing in her vanilla body wash and perfume, allowing yourself to enjoy the contact for just a second. Pretending that it didn’t hurt. Pretending that it would all be alright. 

Your eyes slid closed and you will yourself to wake up. 

You could deal with her rejection, as long as you didn’t lose the people you loved the most. 

*****

Your fingers wrapped tightly around the cardboard USSoccer-provided coffee cup trying to leech as much warmth from it as you could. It wasn’t that you were physically cold, but the icy sludge that settled in your stomach from the moment that you jerked awake hadn’t abated. It numbed you from the inside out, sloshing around and refusing to let you forget. 

You took a little sip of your too-hot coffee, swirling the molten liquid across your tongue and savoring the sting. It did just enough to combat the icicles in your veins, but you didn't know if it was because it gave you an excuse to stay quiet and avoid your teammates or because it was actually helpful. 

You knew you were too quiet for a camp breakfast, but you didn’t know any other way to maintain normalcy. The team was just starting to gel, and you didn’t want to throw that off. You knew they didn’t take soulmate issues lightly. They didn’t need the distraction. 

You could pretend you were fine for their sake. 

Lindsey seemed fine after all. She had taken her spot next to you without question, as though nothing had changed between you. She wrapped her arm around the back of your chair and passed you the cantaloupe from her breakfast plate like she always did. She seemed at ease, joking with your friends, nudging you with each story she told. 

She seemed completely oblivious to how each action deposited a little more sediment on the growing stalagmites around your heart. How each smile pulled too tightly from your cheeks and was followed by a steaming sip. 

You could pretend for her sake too. She had asked you to, and you would do anything for her. 

“What about you Y/n?” 

You blinked up at the mention of your name, your coffee cup landing on the table with a low tap and your eyes finding Emily’s. You could see the thinly veiled worry buried in her blue, hidden well enough that it wouldn’t be obvious to the rest of the table, except maybe Kelley but she didn’t count because she was the blonde’s soulmate. 

“What about me?” 

The table erupted in laughter, and Lindsey nudged you again. “You’re such a space cadet,” 

You fought to hold back a cringe at the action, something that would have had warmth blooming in your chest and heat rising to your cheeks on any other day, but it just made the sludge in your stomach slosh, sending another wave of numbness through you. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed across from you, catching your pained expression. 

She had known you almost as long as you had known Lindsey and the two of you were nearly as close. 

“What are your celebration plans for when we win?” Emily repeated the question, leaning forward just a bit, concern evident in her tone. 

You shrugged. You hadn't considered what would happen if you managed to win the W Cup. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You and Lindsey always celebrated together, until the mess at the world cup. It had hurt too much to think about what winning would look like without your normal tradition. 

“We have to get past Uzbekistan first,” 

“You average almost 3 goals a game, I think we’re gonna be ok,” Kristie scoffed, shaking her head, oblivious to the way Emily and Kelley were staring at you. 

“Uzbekistan isn’t exactly known for its firepower,” Rose added with a smirk, rolling her eyes. “And you can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about what you’re going to do when we win,” 

“Maybe we should ask if she’s thought about who she would do when we win,” Kristie cackled, and parts of the table hummed in agreement. 

You knew it was in reference to how you disappeared after you won the world cup. How they all assumed you had slept your way through several fans on your way back to the United States. You didn’t feel the need to correct them. That would involve explaining exactly what had happened. 

You sent them a halfhearted smile, hoping it looked like the one you shot them when you had been caught. “I’ll probably go back to my room and drink my way through my mini-bar,” 

You didn’t miss the grimace Kelley and Emily shared, or the way Lindsey's dimples jumped out as she frowned. You felt satisfaction tickle the back of your throat. Lindsey had spent the majority of her time pretending like the World Cup Celebration didn’t happen. Like the two of you didn’t almost-. 

You shook your head. You told yourself not to think about it. 

She would never understand the fallout like Emily and Kelley did. They were both there to see it. 

“That’s lame,” Kristie said, her nose scrunching at the prospect. “At least in France, you found yourself a companion,” 

Rose raised an eyebrow at you incredulously. “I thought you weren’t supposed to drink alone?”

You rolled your eyes at the line. Your line. The one you had used to avoid answering questions about the world cup. You caught Lindsey's grimace out of the corner of your eye.

She believed you had slept your way back to the airplane too, but you didn’t understand why she cared. 

She had a boyfriend. 

The sludge in your stomach sloshed again. 

“Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” You muttered halfheartedly, stabbing at your eggs. 

You didn’t even like eggs. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to after your conquests in Florida,” Lindsey said, her voice a thinly veiled sharpness. 

The tone immediately drew your attention, like a razor running gently across your skin, poised to slice you open.

You didn’t talk about Florida, and most of the team acted like you didn’t disappear for 2 months after the World Cup. Considering all the other things Lindsey pretended didn’t happen, you had never expected her to bring it up. 

You forced the bubbling pit in your stomach down, masking it with an easy smile. “What are your plans then?”

The table paused, Emily and Kelley both leaning forward like they were being pulled by a rope, waiting for Lindsey to answer. 

You were very touchy about Florida. 

The midfielder returned your easy smile, leaning back in her chair. “I’ll probably call Ty. He said he has a surprise for me,” 

You did your best to keep your face straight, even as her words sent a numb wave through you. 

“We all know what that will be,” Rose cackled, wiggling her eyebrows. 

It sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. You didn’t want to think about her being with anyone else. You didn’t want to think about your soulmate being intimate, being vulnerable, with him. 

“Too bad you two aren’t soulmates,” Sam hummed, almost offhandedly. 

It still burned in the back of your throat. You didn’t want anyone thinking he was your soulmate’s soulmate. 

You didn’t have a right to be possessive, but it roared to life in your chest like a lion. She was supposed to be yours but she wasn’t.

You cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck, trying to shove those feelings down. You didn’t have the right to feel those feelings.

“I think I’m gonna go to the bus early and try to catch a nap.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice caught. “I didn’t sleep well. Time change and all,” 

You didn’t look up from your coffee cup as you pushed yourself up from the table, afraid of what you would see. You didn’t need to see her indifference. That would hurt worse. 

You ignored the stares on your back as you took your half-eaten plate to the trash and slipped out the door. 

At least if you fell asleep now, she wouldn’t be able to join you there. 

****

The soccer field had always been your safe space. It was the one place in the world where your thoughts went silent and all that mattered was the present moment. 

Even when things during your time at PSG had been rough, the pitch had always welcomed you like an old friend. You could forget your pain as the ball bent to your will.

Except this time you couldn’t.

Not with how oppressively hot Houston was. Not with how Vlatko was playing the starters, expecting you and Lindsey to link seamlessly. Not with how Emily and Kelley kept sending you worried glances. 

It felt like an absolute nightmare in all of its vivid colors, but despite it all your performance hadn’t been affected. 

You ran your hand through your hair, wiping your flyaway curls away from in front of your eyes, turning away from goal before you even saw Casey miss the save. 

“How are you so fast?” Emily asked, falling into step beside you with a nudge. 

You shrugged, shoving her away from you, painting a smile over your features, trying to be normal. “You’re just slow,” 

Lindsey had asked you to be normal. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed, and you knew she wasn’t fooled. You hadn’t expected her to be. 

Emily had known you nearly as long as Lindsey did, and the two of you were more like sisters than friends at this point. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. 

You spent a month on her couch after you came back from Florida and she had even converted the 2nd room of her apartment into a bedroom for you because she didn’t think it was alright for you to be alone. 

Her soulmate, Kelley, had slotted into your life just as nicely, taking the place of the older sibling you always wished your brother would be. 

They were both deceptively good at reading you, and sometimes it was easier to talk to them than it was for you to talk to Tobin and Christen (your self-appointed team moms). They were just as protective. 

“What’s up with you?” Emily nudged you again, catching your elbow and forcing you to look at her. “You seem off,” 

You shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “I told you, I didn’t sleep,”

“Which just seems odd because Abby said you were passed out cold when she came back from her shower,” Emily said, wiggling your elbow so you would look at her. 

You swallowed hard. You could feel her eyes (and a few others) boring into your soul, and you weren’t quite sure how to make the words come out of your mouth. How could you tell her without hurting her relationship with Lindsey?  

“You can talk to me about anything you know? Keeping it all in isn’t healthy,” She added, nudging you again. 

You sighed heavily, only able to meet her eyes for a second before you had to look away. The weight of them was too much. 

You had too much on your mind, and if you opened up, you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop. 

“I just want to play soccer,”

The words sounded weak even to your ears, an old excuse that had been worn through. Her eyes immediately tightened, as did the fingers on your arm. 

“Does this have to do with how much your phone has been ringing?” Her voice was strained, earning an instant frown. 

You didn’t think anyone noticed how often your phone had been going off, or how you never answered it. 

“It’s not-“ You stuttered, shaking your head, closing your eyes, and tilting your head back. That was an entirely different can of worms you weren’t willing to open. Not on top of the Lindsey thing. “I had a bad dream, I woke up. I’m tired,” 

“Do you want to talk about it,” Emily asked you gently, despite already knowing the answer. 

You shook your head once, uttering a “No,” Despite the loud “yes” that echoed around your head. 

Emily squeezed your arm, forcing you to look up at her, worry shining through her blue eyes. “The longer you push it away, the more it’ll hurt,” 

You could hear the warning in her soft voice but also the unwillingness to press. The dance the two of you had played with for a long time. 

She didn’t want you to spiral again. She didn’t want you to go back to the place you had been right after France. She didn’t want you to think you had to hide your pain for everyone else’s sake. 

“I know,” You forced out, biting into your lower lip to prevent the tidal wave of emotions in your chest from breaking out. “I’ve got it handled,” 

You could tell she didn’t believe you by the frown she sent your way. “And if you don’t,” 

“You’ll be the first to know,” You promised, grabbing the hand on your arm and squeezing her fingers. 

“Promise me,” She demanded, slightly too loud, and you felt more eyes on you. 

You nodded. “Promise,” 

“Ok then,” She said, releasing you and nodding towards the coach.  “It’s your turn to run the drill again,” 

You let an easy smirk take over your features. “Maybe you’ll catch me this time loser,” 

You didn’t miss the look Emily shared with Kelley as you headed to the starting position of the drill, the telepathic-like communication only soulmates seemed to share. Or the furrowed eyebrows Lindsey sent your way. 

You knew what both looks meant. Everyone would be watching you more closely for one reason or another. 

******

You settled heavily into your airplane seat, your head leaning hard against the window, pressing your headphones uncomfortably into your head. 

It was weird, traveling by yourself. For as long as you could remember you always flew back to Portland with Lindsey, Emily, and Tobin. With your LA trade, that wasn’t a thing anymore. 

Hell, only Lindsey was left in Portland. 

The only thing you preferred about flying alone was how quiet everything was. How you could finally rest. 

Because camp was utterly exhausting. 

You had started in both games against Uzbekistan, and you scored 5 goals in both games, but Vlatko didn’t take the opportunity to get off your ass. Instead, he had used your only 5 goals as leverage to remind you of the youngins below you vying for a spot. 

And then you had the whole Lindsey situation, as you had been calling it. 

It made your chest ache how she acted like nothing had happened between you. How she seemed content to walk the tightrope between friend and more than a friend, ignorant to how much it hurt. 

Oblivious to the numb wave she sent through you each time she so much as brushed your skin. 

It made it impossible to remain neutral, when you obsessed over every interaction you had with her, worried you were too affectionate or not affectionate enough, unable to walk the tightrope. 

And then you had to deal with your friends. Well-meaning as they were, you wished they would just leave you alone. You didn’t want to talk about your sudden difficulty sleeping or have them try to cuddle you to soothe you into it. 

It was easier to pretend when no one questioned you. It was easier to avoid sleep when no one was watching you. 

But alone on the airplane, no one could bother you. You couldn’t receive voicemails you didn’t want to answer, or texts that would make your aching heart tear just a bit more. No one would try to make you talk, and no one would tell you how inadequate of a player you were. 

It was perfect. 

Your eyelids drooped without your consent as you pressed your forehead harder into the cool glass. You shouldn’t have been surprised after 40 hours of nearly no sleep and a 95-minute game under your belt. 

You wished you could stay forever, and let the subzero air outside of the airplane leach your exhaustion away. 

****

You kept your eyes closed as you came into consciousness, pressing your face deeper into the soft sand underneath you as the sound of the lapping waves and the salty air washed over you.

You didn’t even have to look to know where you were. 

You let it soothe your soul, filling the holes in your chest and removing some of the icicles in your veins.

You felt her warm presence settle beside you, and you fought to hold in your sigh.

You needed peace, but the universe seemed reluctant to give you that. 

You wouldn’t allow her to ruin this place for you. Not when it held so many memories. 

She let you stay quiet for a long moment, before gently bumping your shoulder. “Hey,”

You were reluctant to open your eyes, but you did, carefully rolling over to meet her blue. It was strange that the sand didn’t stick to you like it would in real life.

“Hey,” You smiled stiffly at your blonde soulmate. You were acutely aware of how much your eyes crinkled, how little the edges of your lips moved. You had promised nothing would change, but watching her now, it felt like there was an ocean between you that hadn’t been there before. You felt hyper-aware of every action you made and you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that you were going to ruin it all. Hell, all of camp there had been a disconnect, and you weren’t sure you would ever have the strength to bridge that gap.  

Lindsey cleared her throat, her dimples appearing as she compressed her lips and tugged at the Stanford sweatshirt she was wearing. “I guess I’m cold on the airplane,”

Your eyes followed a small hole just above the wrist. The hole you had made 20 minutes after Kelley bought you the shirt on a goalpost. 

You hadn’t seen the red material since you left the Thorns for Angel City almost 4 months ago. 

Well, that was a lie. You had seen it when you visited Lindsey for her birthday, but you pretended you hadn’t noticed it tucked under the comforter of her bed. She always did love it more than you did. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, as you looked down at yourself, trying not to cringe at the faded tank top hanging from your shoulders, spiderman’s face bleached by the sun and salt. 

 “Yeah. I guess I’m hot,” You mumbled, your finger poking through a large hole in the bottom, one of the main reasons Emily made you throw it out before you had gotten on the plane back to Portland with her. “I’m not sure how any of this works,” 

Your parents had never been forthcoming with information about the dreams. It was more than that. Your mother despised the concept of soulmates and the dreams that came with them. You supposed it was understandable. Your parents had split when you were young, your mother choosing the bottle over everything and your father choosing his 19-year-old girlfriend. 

You always wondered if her use of alcohol was to suppress the dreams so she didn’t have to see him and deal with the pain and if it actually worked. You wondered if she would have been happier if she hadn't. 

You never got the chance to ask. She had never cared enough to let you. 

“Emily said sometimes our feelings translate to the dreams,” Lindsey hummed, drawing random patterns in the sand. “Like when Kelley is sad, it rains. Or when she’s missing Kelley it’ll be unbearably hot,”

You nodded, digesting the information. You could understand that logic. Emily always did love physical contact when she was sad, so forcing her soulmate to cuddle with her naked made sense to you, but you weren’t sure it applied ot you and Lindsey. 

If anything the discrepancies in how you were dressed would only indicate how much the two of you were on completely different pages. Ice prickled in your veins at the thought, so you banished it. 

“I’m not sure,” You said slowly, pinching a bit of smooth sand. “I haven’t really given this whole thing that much thought,” 

It was the truth. You had been wholeheartedly consumed with acting like the cold sludge in your stomach didn’t roll every time she looked at you. You were consumed with pretending that you weren’t being numbed from the inside out. 

Her head dipped in agreement, as she cupped another handful of sand and slowly let it drip from her palm, forming perfect sandcastles. “I think we’re in your dream this time. I’ve never been here,” 

“It’s New Smyrna Beach,” You supplied easily, letting the velvety sand run through your fingers, enjoying how the cool granules contrasted with Lindsey’s burning gaze. “It’s on the east coast of Florida, just south of Saint Augustine,” 

Lindsey made a low noise, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. Everyone knew you had gone to Florida after the World Cup, but very few actually knew where you had gone. You were incredibly tight-lipped about it, no matter how hard Lindsey pressed. 

You were sure that your surroundings, complete with the one person orange tent you had stayed in, weren’t what she had in mind. 

“You vacationed there after we got back from France,” She said finally, and you had to fight to keep your face neutral, to keep the full body shiver from rocking through you. 

You wouldn’t necessarily call the months you had spent as a beach bum a vacation. It had been a necessary evil. An escape. 

A way to outrun the emotions that being back in fucking France had brought up. A way to get that coach’s voice out of your head, because scoring twice on the team that represented him just hadn’t been enough to quiet those thoughts.  A way to pretend like you and Lindsey hadn’t- 

You shook your head. You weren’t supposed to think of the night of the world cup. Of what would have been had Kelley not knocked on your door. 

It was probably for the best. You wouldn’t have been able to handle being one of her regrets on top of everything else. 

“You never told me what you were doing down here,” She mumbled, seemingly offhandedly, but you knew better. You could tell how invested in the conversation thought the sudden tightness in her back, and the way she was deathgripping the sand. 

You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Surfing mostly,” 

It wasn’t a total lie. You had spent most of your days surrounded by the waves, covered in salt water and sand. It was easy not to think when you were in the surf. 

“You wouldn’t answer anyone's calls,” Lindsey pushed further. 

You tried not to flinch at the distinct wobble in her voice. It made the sludge in your chest slosh and the ice crystals in your veins to grow. You never wanted to hurt her.

You waved your hand towards the north end of the beach, masking your wince. “I threw my phone off a pier,” 

“But why?”

Her hand caught your arm, forcing you to look at her. Her blue eyes burned. They reminded you of how they looked the night you told her what the coaching staff at PSG was doing to you. They rendered you naked and exposed. They pleaded with your very soul. 

But you couldn't tell her. She had asked you to be normal. She asked that nothing change. 

It was more important to you to keep your promise. 

“I just,” You averted your eyes, searching the lapping sea for the answer. To tell her without telling her. “I needed a break. It was too hard,” 

You wanted her to acknowledge what had happened between the two of you. You wanted her to admit that it wasn’t just a passing moment brought on by the excitement of winning the world cup. You desperately wanted her to admit that the two of you had been soulmates long before you shared your first dream.

It was selfish, you knew that, to expect that of her, but you craved it. 

It had been too hard for you to stay around her when she wasn’t going to do any of those things. 

“You’ve never shut me out like that before,” Lindsey said desperately. “Why couldn’t you have taken a break in Portland,” You swore an unspoken “with me” belonged out the end of the sentence. 

You shrugged. She wasn’t at a place where she would understand.  

“My brother lives in Miami,” You explained softly, your tooth catching your top lip as you tried to string together the right words. “I thought that maybe I’d be able to… I don’t know… understand him more if I was down here,”

It was easier to throw blame on him, to hide behind your family problems to avoid everything. Lindsey could understand those. 

“Did it help?” She asked earnestly, and it made your chest ache. She cared just not in the way you so desperately wanted her to. 

“No.” You snorted. “He’s as much of an ass as he always was but the waves, the sun, and the sand were good for me,” 

She nodded, elbowing your upper arm. “You did have one hell of a tan after you came back,” 

“Can’t get that in Portland,” You chuckled.

“Ty says Greece is the best place to get a tan,” 

It was like a pin in the sudden balloon that had filled your chest. 

You sucked in a shallow breath, trying to pretend like it didn’t hurt. Trying to pretend like his very name didn’t send a numb wave through you and have your mothers cackling laugh resounding in your head. 

Your soulmate had chosen someone else. You weren’t worthy of her. 

“Greece is ok,” You shrugged, dragging your fingers through the sand, and picking up a handful. “This beach is less crowded. It kinda grew on me.” 

You flipped your hand on its side, letting the sand slide through, landing in a perfectly imperfect tower shape. You tried not to think about how much it represented you. How things seemed to fall into place, and out of place all at the same time. 

“I’ll have to suggest it to him,” She hummed, completely unaware of your inner war. 

“Yeah,” You muttered, breathing out through your nose, willing yourself to just wake up. 

You forced yourself to watch the sand as it trickled through your fingers, begging whoever would listen in your head to just let you open your eyes. 

You didn’t want to share this place with anyone besides Lindsey. 

Especially not the person who she had chosen over you. The person who would always be more worthy than you. 

*****

You had known that you weren’t going to fool Christen or Tobin. Both women just knew you too well.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t send your usual check in text after you landed- though you would argue it was because you passed out from exhaustion later. Maybe it was because you weren’t even sure how to put what had happened into words. Every time you tried, they got stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even look yourself in the eyes in your bathroom mirror and say that Lindsey was your soulmate and you were ok with her not wanting you. (not that you spent an hour trying). 

But you should have known that by not sending the little text, it would tip them off more than they already were.

It was something so small, but so fundamental in your relationship with them. It started while you, Lindsey and Tobin were still at PSG. It was a way for her to help you stop the things that were happening, and it included Christen shortly after Tobin had rescued you and Lindsey. 

The curly hair forward had taken to you immediately, and vice versa. So much so that the team teased she was your team mom. But your relationship was so much deeper. You went to her with your worry and for advice when you didn’t know how to navigate a situation, and she cared for you in a way that your own family never had.  

You always texted her because you didn’t want her to worry.

Except this time you hadn’t. 

You had half expected her to show up at your apartment the next morning before practice, a cup of coffee in hand, but all that had been waiting for you was a text, hoping you had gotten back to your studio apartment safely. 

You were grateful that she didn’t. It gave you time to get a handle on the numbness that did everything in its power to consume you. To get a handle on the slowly dying tissue around the sludge in your chest. 

You weren’t surprised Christen was waiting for you, leaning against the front of her car when you pulled up to the practice field, but she didn’t pounce on you the second you got out of the car. 

She let you get out and grab your bag from the front seat, waiting until you were nearly at her car before she pushed off the hood. She paused, gently grasping your shoulders tightly for a long moment, before pulling you into a tight hug. 

The hug you so desperately needed. 

It fought against the cool numbness that seemed content to settle in your veins.

“Hey kid,” She hummed into your hair, squeezing you tightly. 

You leaned into her comfort, burying your head into her neck and hugging her back just as tightly. “Hey,” 

Her hands rubbed up and down your back, letting you cling to her for several long minutes, before very slowly pulling away. She held you at arms length, again searching you for something. 

“You feeling alright?” Her voice was soft, gently, the voice she only used when she was worried. The voice she had used the first time you stepped into Emily’s apartment after Florida. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling tightly up at her. “Just tired. All this flying around the country takes it out of a person,” 

Her shoulders relaxed a bit at your half-hearted attempt at a joke. 

“I’m sure it had nothing at all to do with the shows you put on in Columbus and Chester,” she chuckled, letting you go so the two of you could head towards the practice field. 

“And yet Vlatko is still up my ass like a suppository,” You grumbled, beginning to walk towards the training field.“I think he told me about the U20’s coming to take my sport more times than he talked about tactics,” 

“What else happened at camp?” 

She tried to ask the question casually, but you knew it was anything but. You wondered how much Emily had told her. 

You shrugged. “The usual,” 

“Really?”Christen asked incredulously. “That’s why Emily was sending texts last night to make sure we checked on you?” 

Usually, your first descriptors were of your friends, followed by a story about whatever shenanigans you all had gotten up to. The only time you hadn’t was the camp right after the World Cup. The only time Emily had texted them in warning was right after the World Cup too. 

You couldn’t help the low “traitor” that left your lips. 

“What Emily does is her prerogative,” You grumbled back, pulling your bag more tightly to your shoulder. “And I turned my phone off. I passed out when I got home, and the buzzing kept waking me up,”

Her head tilted to the side. Her and Tobin had only texted you once each. 

“What happened in the groupchat?” She paused, her fingers closing around your wrist and pulling you to a stop. 

You shrugged, finding a pebble under your sneaker more interesting than Christen’s concerned eyes. 

You never wanted her to worry. It made the pit in your stomach bubble. Another reason you would never be worthy of a soulmate. 

“Come on,” She pressed, her other hand catching your chin and gently forcing you to look up. “What’s happening?”

You didn’t miss the double meaning to her words. You rarely did. 

“I’m not sure,” You sighed, only telling a half-truth. “I don’t find a point in keeping up with Lindsey and Mal and their boyfriend drama,” 

You couldn’t help the bitterness that leaked into your voice. It hurt every time she mentioned him in the chat, like she was twisting the dagger in your chest just a little more. Like she was reminding you how much better for her he was. 

Plus the never ending text chain from your brother made you flinch every time you opened your Lock Screen. 

Christen’s eyes studied you for a long minute, before she nodded once. You knew she wasn’t fooled. 

You were afraid if she pressed harder you would crumble. You were thankful she let go of your chin and allowed you to head back towards the field. 

You had no doubt she would be watching you. 

****

Christen hadn’t needed you to forget to send her your normal made it home safe text to know something was wrong. She also hadn’t needed Emily’s heads up. 

She had known something was off before you went to camp, and now, well it was painfully obvious to her that things were getting worse instead of better. There was an odd tension that coated your every movement. A strange hesitance where she had never seen you hesitate before.

But she knew better than to confront you with it, that would only make you slip further back into the shell you had built long ago to protect yourself. It would only make you hide your pain more in some convoluted attempt to protect whoever. It would only make you run. 

She waited and watched and worried her bottom lip as you fumbled your way through warmups. 

It wasn’t that you were playing sloppy. It was that your head just didn't seem in it. You weren’t having fun and it was painfully obvious. 

You didn’t have your characteristic easy smile as drills started. Instead your face was etched with worry lines and stoicism that Christen had only seen from you during the tail end of your time in France. 

“Jesus Christ,” You grumbled as Simone again drove the defenders the wrong way, forcing the little pocket you had found yourself in to close, and cutting off the shot you were trying to set up. 

Christen raised her eyebrow at you, passing you a water as you hit the sidelines. 

You were usually pretty good with the young players, offering advice and rarely snapping when they made mistakes. You liked to teach and you knew people didn’t learn when you yelled at them. 

“They don’t know how to split the fucking defenders and they keep driving everyone towards me,” you explained, gesturing towards the two other forwards Freya had paired you with. “I’ve told them 3 times that the back line will continue to collapse the pockets if they don’t keep their spacing,”

“They’re young,” Christen supplied easily, her eyes tracing your features, noting how much more prominent the dark circles under your eyes were in the streaming sunlight. 

“But they don’t know how to fucking listen,” You huffed, spraying more water into your mouth. “At least Emily and Rose pay attention when I talk,” 

“You, Emily, Rose, and Lindsey have more practice,” She said pointedly, noting the omission of the blond midfielder in your sentence. “They’ve had time to gel with you. The new kids will get it, it’ll just take some time and patience,” 

You rolled your eyes in time with your shoulders, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at the mere mention of Lindsey’s name. You didn’t have the right to feel the feelings curling uncomfortably in your chest. “We don’t have time, and I’m running out of patience,” 

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed. While you weren’t one of the most patient people on the planet, you always showed patients with the young ones. You showed them the same courtesy that you wished someone had shown you. 

“I just want to play, and it’s like they’re not even on my team,” You muttered, earning an even deeper frown. 

She wondered how deep it went. How much it related to whatever happened at camp and not the young LA team. 

“Listen to me,” Christen said gently, grabbing your shoulders, trying to catch your eyes. “We are on your team. What’s going on?”

You closed your eyes, running a frustrated hand through your hair. “It’s not fucking acceptible. I had 18 shots on goal in the game against Uzbekistan, I only scored 5 a piece. I can’t fucking link up with them. It just…” 

You paused, the words seemingly getting stuck in your throat, and you waved your hand helplessly. 

“You’re under a lot of pressure,” She supplied easily, grabbing your hand and squeezing 3 times. A silent I Love You, but it didn’t loosen the knot in your chest.  

“I was fucking distracted. It’s not acceptable,” You huffed, running another hand through your already tousled hair. It was hard to focus when all you saw every time you closed your eyes was a mix of blue and blonde. It was hard to focus when all you could do was dissect every interaction you had out of fear you were too close or not close enough. You didn’t know how to be without Lindsey, but you couldn’t act like she wanted you to. “I need-“

“To relax,” Christen cut you off gently, her eyes searching you for a clue at what was bothering you, for a peek inside your head, for a reason you were so tense. “You need to relax,”

You blew out a long breath. You had always played your best when you were relaxed, dancing in the locker room with your friends before a game. It was hard when you were struggling to even call your best friend your friend anymore. 

“What’s got you so wound?” She asked you, worry evident in her tone. “What’s going on in that head of yours,” 

Things didn’t usually turn out well when you internalized your emotions. You buried your feelings until they boiled over, and your favorite target for that pain was yourself. The scars on your legs and back were proof of that. 

“I just-,” You sighed, shaking your head and chewing your lip, glancing towards your teammates (none of which had earned your unyielding trust). “It’s complicated,” 

Christen sighed, glancing towards the team behind you. She understood your hesitancy to talk in front of them. You were hesitant enough when no one was watching. 

“How about you come over for dinner, I’ll have Tobin make your favorite and we can chat and relax over some wine?” The striker offered you gently, squeezing your arm. 

“Yeah,” You sighed, leaning into the hand, taking any support you could get. “Dinner would be nice,” 

****

As it turned out, dinner was nice. Tobin made you Mac and cheese and Christen poured you a too expensive glass of wine, and you couldn’t help but relax as they chatted about their latest re-inc project. 

It was nice to let them distract you, even if it felt a bit like you were under a microscope. They were just so good at reading you. 

But no one had mentioned what they saw yet. No one had mentioned how often your phone buzzed, or how you sunk a bit anytime they ventured towards the topic of the team. 

You blew out a long breath, taking a short sip of your wine, resting your elbows on the railing of Tobin’s balcony. 

The Los Angeles skyline twinkled below you, nearly as good as Portland, but not quite. 

At least it didn’t make your chest ache like you knew the Koin Center and Wells Fargo building would. 

You couldn’t look at them without thinking of her. Your life was so intertwined with hers that you feared it would be like that anywhere you went. 

But that was your problem. Not Lindsey’s. 

You sighed, pulling another long sip of your wine as the glass door slid open behind and a familiar presence settled beside you. 

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. 

“Thanks for dinner,” You mumbled, swirling your wine around your glass, wishing it was something stronger instead. “Mama Heath’s Mac and cheese is always the best,”

“No problem,” Tobin shrugged, and it was easy. Familiar. “I’ll have to tell her you think so,”

“Sorry, I’m not great company,” You muttered, sipping your glass. 

You felt Tobin shrug. “We just want you to know we’re here for you,” 

You nodded. You did know that they were there for you. They had always been there for you. Tobin had helped you in France, acting as a shield between you and the coaching staff. She had worked with Emily to find you after France and remind you that it wasn’t soccer that you hated. Christen had been the one to orchestrate your trade to LA after things got too weird for you in Portland. 

They had always been there to help you pick up the pieces of yourself and work through your emotions. They were the family you never had. 

But they were Lindsey’s family too. 

You didn’t want them to turn on her because of you, but you felt like you had to tell someone what was happening. Like finally saying it out loud would quell the chilling acid in your chest. 

And if anyone would understand it was Tobin. 

“I met my soulmate,” you admitted softly, sipping the last bit of wine out of your glass. 

“I would congratulate you, but I’m sensing a but,” She breathed out, and you felt her eyes in the side of your face. 

Worried and not judgemental. 

Your lips tilted up at the answer. “She doesn’t want to be my soulmate,” 

“Did she tell you that?” Tobin pressed, gently taking the glass from your hand. 

It was only then that you realized how tightly you clutched the fragile edge. 

“She has a boyfriend, and she loves him. She’s made it incredibly clear,” You couldn’t keep the bitter edge out of your voice, a look at the gaping wound in your chest, oozing every time you so much as thought about it. 

“Damn,” Tobin sighed, placing both of your glasses on the balcony table and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Is she someone we know?”

“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger playing with a crack in the balcony’s handrail, debating whether or not you were going to tell her more. Debating if you would risk them turning on Lindsey. “I get to see her all the time,” 

“That sucks,” She agreed. 

You hummed. 

It did suck. Really sucked. 

What sucked worse was that you had agreed to be her friend afterward. They always said it was better to have your soulmate in some capacity than none, but God did it fucking hurt. It was like she had to prove how much better her boyfriend was than you, and you hated the feeling in the pit of your stomach when she showed that she was right. 

You should be able to be an adult about this. 

But you just…. Couldn’t. 

You let the silence linger between you, feeling more comfortable than you had in weeks in Tobin’s presence. 

If anyone understood, she did. You knew that. 

“Christen was dating someone when you dreamt with her for the first time, wasn’t she?” You asked softly, keeping your eyes on the Las Angeles skyline, and trying to ignore her sharp intake of breath. 

Tobin swallowed hard, squeezing your shoulder, seemingly trying to gain the strength to answer you. 

“She was,” She admitted, and you heard the strain in her voice. 

You blinked at her honesty, finally looking up at her thoughtful expression. “How did you work through that?”

“We were in college. We were rivals more than anything else,” She explained, grimacing slightly at what you assumed was embarrassment or pain at the memory. “It changed after we got to go to camp together. We were drawn together like magnets, and at some point, she wasn’t dating him anymore and I was available so it just kind of happened,” 

You nodded, your lips forming a thin line, your heart sinking just a bit. 

Lindsey knew you and had decided she didn’t want to be your soulmate. You were friends. She knew you and had decided that you weren’t good enough. 

“Does it ever go away?” The question was soft, and vulnerable as it left your lips. 

“The weight in your stomach?” Tobin asked you gently. You nodded once and she squinted, taking a long second to find the answer. “Mine didn’t leave until we were together for a while,” 

“Did she feel it too?” You asked. 

It was the question you wanted to know since you had the dream. Did she feel the same sludge in her chest that you did? Was she in the same pain you were? Was she avoiding sleep too? 

“I don’t think that’s a me question,” Tobin said slowly, and you felt yourself deflate just a bit. “It’s not something Chris and I talk about a lot, but I know that we were both hurting in different ways,” 

“I think it would be easier if she didn’t want to be friends,” You admitted. It made you feel guilty that part of you wished you didn't know Lindsey. That you didn’t share the history you did. “At least then I wouldn’t have to hear about him,” 

You missed Tobins furrowed eyes as she tried to figure out exactly who it was. She knew better than to ask, that would only cause you to pull away. 

“I felt that way too, but I think the silence was worse in the end,” She answered after a long second. 

You blinked up at her, pulling out of her embrace just far enough to see her expression. “How did you deal with it?”

She chuckled darkly. “I didn’t,”  

You could understand why someone wouldn't. You didn’t want to deal with it either, but it felt like you were being forced to. 

“I cut her off completely, which wasn’t a problem until we were on the same team,” Tobin continued, shaking her head. 

You nodded, understanding the feeling. If only it were that simple. Lindsey was competitive and stubborn, and you knew she wouldn’t let you cut her off. Not after you already agreed that nothing would be different. 

Tobin squeezed your shoulder as if could feel your pain. 

“Just tell her how you feel,” She suggested gently, “sometimes all it takes is a conversation,” 

“It’s Lindsey,” You snorted, shaking your head. “She already knows how I feel,” 

There was an unspoken- and she still didn’t want me- that hung in the air. 

You barely heard Tobin’s “Oh,” but you felt her squeeze you even tighter. 

“Yeah, oh,” You sighed miserably. 

“I mean, I’m not surprised you two are soulmates,” Tobin said, her chin resting on top of your head. “You’ve been pining after each other forever,” 

You chuckled bitterly. You had been tied at the hip since you were 17, dancing the line between friends and something more, crossing that line more times than you’d like to admit. “Except now she has a boyfriend, and she doesn’t want things to change between us,” 

“Except things have changed,” Tobin supplied, holding you closer. 

“I promised her they wouldn’t,” You mumbled. 

Tobin blew out a long breath. “That’s tough kid,” 

And you wondered if that was the crux of your pain. Would it feel different if you hadn’t said yes? Would it hurt less? 

A long silence stretched between you, comforting in a way that words wouldn’t have been, and you glanced back through the door to see Christen working too hard on drying a plate. 

“Just,” Tobin said slowly, shaking her head as if she knew something you didn’t. “Just tell her how you feel, and give her some time. She’ll come around,” 

You hummed, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You doubted she would ever see you for more than her friend. You doubted she would ever deem you worthy enough to be her soulmate. 

“Do you think Christen is done with the dishes? Or is she waiting for your signal?” You asked instead of arguing with her. Arguing wouldn’t do you any good. 

You appreciated their subtlety, but you knew the striker had to be stalling. 

Tobin shrugged, unfazed at getting caught. “She knows it’s easier for you to talk to me, but she’s worried too. Especially about the way your phone has been blowing up,” 

You cringed. You were hoping that they wouldn’t bring it up, despite how often it had interrupted your dinner. “People think if they harass me, I’ll be more likely to answer and say yes,” 

Tobin let out a low snort. “They obviously don’t know you’re more inclined to destroy it than answer,” 

“At least I didn’t throw it off a pier this time,” You chuckled, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t want to talk about your phone, or your brother’s inability to take a fucking hint. You knew Tobin would be less inclined to let you avoid explanation. 

She squeezed your shoulder. “I know you don’t want to talk about whatever, but Just know Chris and I are here for you, no matter what,” 

You gulped but nodded nonetheless.

“Are you going to tell her?” 

The question was soft, hesitant, and showed the vulnerability you were reluctant to ever express. 

“You know we don’t keep secrets from each other,” Tobin reminded you gently. 

You swallowed again. You knew transparency was important to them. That they never kept secrets from each other. “I just don’t want her to lose you guys,” 

Tobin sighed heavily. 

It was just like you to try to help Lindsey even if it killed you, to ensure that she would be ok despite how much she had already hurt you.  

“Neither of you will lose us,” She said finally, pulling you tighter to her. “But I won’t let her mistreat you either,” 

You hummed, burying your face in her neck, accepting the comfort it was clear you needed. 

“Come on kid. Chris got chocolate cake because she knows it’s your favorite,” Tobin said, patting your back. “We can have a movie night and you can crash here if you want,”

You hummed, nodding into her neck. “That would be nice,” 

You knew she was asking for her own peace of mind. She knew you better than you knew yourself. She knew you would spiral if they let you. 

And you would let yourself be protected. 

*****

You would never get used to the feeling of waking up in a shared dream. The weird way the colors blended, and you were overcome with the most potent form of dejavu you had ever encountered. 

The world blurred into focus. Like you were spinning too fast and then suddenly came to a stop. Like you were seeing the world upside down and suddenly it was right side up. 

It made you want to vomit, despite the aching slush being absent from your stomach. 

It killed you as your eyes opened, because everything felt right, and you knew that it was anything but. It was only a matter of time before you were reminded of how unworthy of your soulmate you were. 

You sighed, closing your fingers around the soft grass underneath you. The bed that was softer than your real childhood bed. The safe space that had always welcomed you until you moved to france. 

You let out a low breath, loathe to sit up and actually face the woman you knew was beside you. 

This place was too sacred for you to desecrate. You tried to remember that you were really on Tobin and Christen’s couch, tucked under one of their blankets like you had been for the last 3 weeks. You tried to remember that nothing that happened here would be real. 

“How is this grass so soft?”

You squeezed your eyes shut even tighter at her voice, hoping that you could make it hurt less if you didn’t look at her. 

“Mr. Barns used to water it by hand,” You said softly, remembering the summer days your mother kicked you out of the house at 6 and didn’t let you back in until well past dinner. If she let you back in. “I helped him sometimes in the summer. He would give me lunch,” 

She hummed, and you felt her settle down beside you, so your arms were nearly touching.  “You don’t talk about your childhood a lot,”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin where her elbow brushed you, and you gulped. “I don’t like to think about it. It wasn’t a normal childhood,” 

“Did any of us have a normal childhood?” Lindsey countered, trying to copy what you and her had deemed Tobins wise old lady voice. 

It made you shiver. She knew how bad your childhood was. She had heard the stories of the horror stories that haunted you at night. 

You cleared your throat, averting your gaze. “I used to sleep out here sometimes. It was easier than going home,” 

You ran your hand over the grass as if to prove your point. 

“Why am I not surprised you preferred to sleep on a soccer field as a kid,” Lindsey snorted, and you bit your lip to avoid cringing. 

She made it sound like you had chosen to sleep on the field. Like your mother hadn’t given you the choice of being locked in a closet or sleeping outside. 

“Yeah,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t like to talk about it,” 

Lindsey made a noise in the back of her throat, too focused on picking a blade of grass. “How about we talk about the radio silence then,” 

You stiffened, your back going rigid. “Everyone’s just lucky I didn’t throw my phone off Tobin’s balcony,” 

Lindsey chuckled as though you were being sarcastic (you weren’t). “That many girls have been blowing you up?”

Your head tilted to the side, and your eyebrows furrowed without your consent. You didn’t understand her fascination with your sex life. Not that you had one. Not since France…

“What girls?” 

It slipped past your lips before you could think to stop it, confusion clear in your voice. 

Lindsey scoffed. “You can’t seriously tell me that you haven’t been hooking up. You haven't answered any of my calls or texts,” 

Her voice was almost… possessive. Your frown deepened, and you shook away the thought. There was no way, right? It wouldn’t make sense with how she had her very own boyfriend. 

“My brother has been harassing me. I shoved it in my sock drawer to dampen the sound,” You said, your voice softer than you expected it to be. 

A byproduct of your inner surprise you told yourself. Definitely not because you needed her to know that there was no one else for you. Definitely not because it made the sludge in your chest suddenly reappear when she mentioned that she thought you were seeing other people. 

It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair. But what out of any of this had been?

“Oh,” Lindsey muttered, her fingers catching the grass and rolling it between her fingers, and you could have sworn you saw her nose crinkle at the mention of him. “What does he want?”

Your shoulders lifted and fell, both because you didn’t want to answer the question and because you wished she had been dejected for another reason. You wished she cared enough to be bothered that it wasn’t just her you were ignoring. Instead, she looked relieved. 

“I’m not taking his calls,” You answered your voice more horse than you intended it to be, showing more emotions than you wanted to. “He’s an asshole,” 

Lindsey paused at your characterization, her shoulders slumping in a way you didn’t quite understand. “Am I an asshole too?” 

You could see how she made the jump, but that wasn’t why you were avoiding her. It just hurt too much to hear how wonderful Ty was to her. How he was so much better than you. 

Really, it had been Christen's suggestion after a particularly bad day had nearly sent you into a panic attack and you wouldn’t tell her why. It was bad enough that you had spilled your guts to Tobin. They didn’t need to know the pressure your brother was putting on you. 

You shook your head. “You’re not trying to guilt trip me into doing things I don’t want to,”

It was technically the truth, though it wasn’t entirely accurate. You didn’t want to pretend like everything was fine, but it was nothing in comparison to your brother’s request. His demand. His inability to take no for an answer. 

“What does he want you to do?” 

You felt Lindsey’s eyes on the side of your face, and the concern seeping through her words. It nearly caught you off guard. It nearly let your brain slip into the place where you could convince yourself that the thing between you hadn’t changed. That she cared about you in the way you cared about her. 

You gulped, finally gaining the courage to look up from the grass and meet her eyes. They were burning blue, just as they had been so many times before. Protective in a way that only Lindsey could be. Loved in a way that you had only felt when you were with her. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

It made you feel like she cared. As a friend you reminded yourself. 

Only a friend. 

“It’s complicated,” You finally settled on the phrase. 

“More complicated than Florida?” She fired back like she already had the remark prepared. 

You cringed. She probably did. You hated that Florida had become her litmus test for you, even when the situations were entirely unrelated. 

Your brother had Ignored you while you were in Florida. The only person you spoke to was Emily when the nurse wouldn’t let you check out of the hospital on your own. That was the only reason anyone knew anything. 

You hated that Lindsey couldn’t seem to let it go. 

“It’s different,” You hedged carefully, rolling a blade of grass between your fingers. “He’s asking me to forget that they didn’t want me,” 

You didn’t think it was fair for him to try to leverage your mother's dying wish against you, even after all of the shit she had done. And you tried not to think about how much Lindsey didn’t want you. 

Lindsey frowned, and you could see the wheels turning in her head. 

She reached over and caught your hand, oblivious to the shivers it sent through your spine and how even the small touch made goosebumps appear in her wake. 

Your head jerked up to meet her blue. “It would be their loss. Not yours,” 

You gulped, trying not to focus on how the words felt like she was twisting the knife in your chest just a bit, or how the place where her hand touched your arm felt like it was on fire. 

It wasn’t a fair statement. How could it be when she didn't even want you, and she was tied to you? You wanted to ask if it was her loss. 

Your shoulders lifted and dropped. 

It was the safest response you could muster. One that wouldn’t force her to reinforce how much she didn’t want you. One that would allow you to delude yourself into thinking she cared. 

Lindsey sighed. 

She had always been good at reading you. 

“You promised me nothing would change,” She mumbled, and you shrunk a bit. Her voice was soft, caring, and concerned. It lured you in. 

You shook your head. “Things haven’t changed,” 

The words felt like acid in your throat. You could hear the thinness in them. The lie. 

Everything had changed.

You knew Lindsey heard it too. Her raised eyebrow told you as much. 

You sighed, “I’m trying, alright?” 

It was too soft. Too vulnerable. 

And you watched Lindsey’s face change. 

“It shouldn’t be so hard,” She gritted out, and you flinched at the sudden ice in her voice. The edge waiting to slice you open. “Why can’t you just be normal? We’re friends.”

You gulped down the retort on the top of your tongue. The words that would blow everything wide open. 

You and Lindsey had always been on the edge of friends. Friends didn’t do the things the two of you did. 

“I’m just…-“ You paused, looking down at her hand still on your arm. “I have a lot going on. I’m doing my best,” 

You repeated the words that Christen had given you, and you felt Lindsey relax. Her fingers tightened around your forearm. 

“Just remember you’re not alone,” 

Your head tilted to the side. You knew those words were carefully chosen as well. 

“I’ll try,” You sighed, pulling away and willing yourself to wake up. It didn’t hurt so much when you could pretend she didn’t care. When you couldn’t see the concern etched across her features. “I’m trying,” 

Her fingers tightened around your arm as the scene faded away like she was trying to keep you there, even as you jerked into consciousness. 

You could have sworn she was saying something. A part of you wanted to know what it was, but the larger part of you was grateful that you didn’t. 

No matter what it was, it would make everything hurt that much worse. The ache in your chest was already unbearable most days. 

You sighed, running your knuckles into the place where your heart throbbed, pushing yourself up off of the couch. 

It was worse when she pretended like she cared, even when you knew she didn’t. Not in the way you wanted her to. 

You ran a hand through your hair, grabbing a stray ball that way laying around and heading towards the door. Hopefully, some practice would quell the gnawing hole slowly growing in your chest. 

All you could do was try. 

*******

You thought you understood exhaustion when you were in France. You thought you understood it during your second season when you played every minute you were available in Portland. you thought you understood it at the very end of last camp. 

In the 4 months since you had your first shared dream, you realized that there was an entirely new level of weariness and fatigue beyond anything you had ever experienced. It settled deep into your bones, replacing your normal energy with lead. It ate away at your soul, and you feared that when all was said and done there would be nothing of yourself left. 

You knew that was the consequence of being rejected by your soulmate, of not being good enough for your soulmate, and of your refusal to sleep. You couldn’t share dreams if you didn’t have them. 

You would slowly lose everything that made you yourself. 

What was more shocking to you was that your on-field performance hadn’t wavered, despite the wide berth the team gave you when you weren’t on the pitch. It had only gotten better, according to every commentator in the NWSL. 

You supposed it made sense, the suffocation of your soul leading to a more cold and calculating performance. Or maybe it was just your pain coming out in aggression toward the unfortunate defenders that you played against. 

Either way, you were having the season of your life, and you were hating every single moment of it. 

“I’m not going,” You mumbled, as you pulled your shin guards out of your socks, barely looking up at Christen. “You can tell Kelley I got sick or whatever, but I don’t want to deal with it,” 

It took effort to look up, and you knew it would just show her how little sleep you were getting despite their insistence that you stay on their couch. 

It would also take effort to go to dinner with Kelley and Emily after the game and to pretend like you weren’t slowly disintegrating from the inside out.  

“Or you can tell her and Emily yourself,” The striker countered, settling down on the bench next to you, careful not to touch you as you had been particularly sensitive after your last shared dream. “Unless you skip the game, you’re going to see them,” 

You cursed under your breath, tossing your guards into your bag with too much force. Why couldn’t things ever be easy?  “Freya won’t let me skip the Washington game,” 

“Not a chance,” Tobin agreed, settling down on your other side, effectively trapping you between them. 

You had been playing too well for your coach to let you sit out without giving a good reason, and trying to explain that you didn’t want to see your friends because your soulmate was your other friend and she had a fucking boyfriend wasn’t something you wanted to do. No matter how nice the coach was. 

“Damn it,” You grumbled, leaning back on the wall beside your locker with a thump. It was almost too much for your tired brain to work through. 

You had partially forgotten that you would see Kelley and Emily at the game as well as after. 

It was once in a season that you got to play Kelley and Emily in LA, so of course, they wanted to hang out after the game. Normally you would be excited to see your best friend and her soulmate, but since your last shared dream with Lindsey, you were dreading it. 

Hell, you had been dreading it since you started ignoring your phone. 

You loved Emily and Kelley, but they were too perceptive for their own good. They would ask questions you didn’t want to answer and slowly pry the truth from you. Then they would hate Lindsey, and that wasn’t fair to her. 

She had been friends with Lindsey longer than she had been friends with you after all. 

Or it was possible that they both already knew. That Lindsey had already told them, and they were just waiting for the right opportunity to tell you how much they agreed with her. To confirm what you already knew, that you were unworthy of your soulmate. 

You could still feel the tingle of Lindsey’s fingers on your arm, her words “it would be their loss” still lingered in your brain like a bad cough despite them being spoken nearly two weeks ago. 

You shivered. 

Either way, you couldn’t face them. You couldn’t deal with the possibilities. You couldn’t bear to see Emily’s disappointed gaze. You wouldn’t be able to stand it if you lost her too, despite the way you were pushing her away. 

There was a reason you had called her when you were in Florida instead of anyone else. A reason that you had clung to her afterward. 

She treated you like you were normal. Despite almost drowning in Florida. Despite her having to check you out of the hospital. Despite you running away in France after you and Lindsey almost-... 

“It’ll be fun,” Christen said, nudging your shoulder. “we’ll talk about Bagel and the Spirit drama, and all you have to do is smile and nod,”

“She’ll hate me when she finds out,” you groaned, scrubbing your eyes, your nails digging and scraping at the skin above your eyebrows. You were never good at hiding things from Emily or Kelley for that matter. 

You should be able to be reasonable and be Lindsey’s friend. You should be able to respect her wishes. She was right, it shouldn’t be so hard. 

But it just hurt so fucking much. It didn’t matter how nice she was about it, every interaction felt like a knife slipping between your ribs and into the soft, vulnerable tissue, twisting unrelentingly, intent on bleeding you out. 

Christen caught your hands, carefully pulling them away from your eyes and laying them flat against her thigh. She rubbed soothing circles on the back of your palm. “No one will hate you,”

“You’re not the one who is being malicious,” Tobin added, in a tone that made you believe she 100% thought someone was. 

You frowned. Lindsey hadn’t done anything outright yet. Well, anything besides telling you that she loved her boyfriend, and while that hurt you, it wasn’t a direct shot across the bow. It also wasn’t anything deserving of Tobin’s direct ire. 

You regretted telling the midfielder-turned-winger about the back-and-forth game Lindsey seemed to enjoy. You regretted telling her how much it hurt you to not understand. To know exactly where you stood, the place you had always stood with Lindsey, in the blurry no man's land between friend and more than friend. A place filled with landmines and barbed wire poised to destroy you at the first misstep. 

You had already been cut more times than you’d like to admit. 

You pulled your hand out of her grip, running it through your messy curls, serving only to make them more wild. You hadn’t had the energy to style it, but now you were regretting that decision. It would be a bitch to fix later. 

You felt Christen and Tobin share a look over your head, communicating without words. You wanted to ask if that was a soulmate thing or just a preath thing because you doubted you would ever be in a place with Lindsey where you would be able to find out on your own. 

“Lindsey might not have told them yet,” Christen said gently. You felt her eyes return to the side of your face, and her fingers carefully weaved into your hair beginning to undo the knots. “And we don’t have to tell them either,” 

Tobin’s hand found the back of your neck, digging into the knot that always appeared there. You sighed. Their efforts at coercion were rather effective, especially with the three hours of sleep you had gotten (despite their best efforts).  

“But what if she did?” You asked, your voice showing more vulnerability than you wanted. “What if she told Emily that I wasn’t keeping my promise? That I wasn’t being a good friend?”

Tobin snorted, shaking her head. 

It was difficult for her to wrap her head around how you thought anyone would be upset with you in this situation. How you thought that any of this was your fault. 

“Kelley will be upset if any of this hurts Emily,” You said, softer. You knew how protective the older defender was, especially of her soulmate. 

It was one of the first things you learned about Kelley. She would murder anyone who hurt Emily. 

You were in pain, but you didn’t want to die. Not yet at least. 

Not by Kelley’s hand. 

“We will deal with Kelley,” Christen reassured you, sharing another look with Tobin. On the off chance that Kelley was upset, all it would take would be to mention the word soulmate and she would back off. 

It wasn’t just her soulmate she was protective of. 

“I don’t want anyone to fight,” You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut yet again, hoping it would help the heaviness in them. 

It didn't. 

Your phone buzzed obnoxiously in your bag because god forbid you get 30 seconds of peace. 

You wished you hadn’t told Lindsey about the calls, even Christen and Tobin hadn’t been able to pry it out of you. You wished you hadn’t used it as your excuse, because it felt like another thing that she could hold over you. 

“I just,” You blew out a shaky breath. “I want everything to go back to what it was before I had the stupid, fucking dream,” 

At least then you hadn’t had to face the feelings that continually bubbled in your chest. It had been easy to pretend that you didn’t want something more from Lindsey, something she would never give you outside the privacy of shared hotel rooms and fleeting nights in apartments. 

It was easy to pretend that her denials hadn’t been slowly unraveling you. That you hadn’t been self-destructing since well before the dream. 

“Avoiding sleep to avoid her isn’t helping you,” Christen said softly like she was speaking to a small child. It should have irritated you, but it didn’t. It made warmth bloom in your chest. “And neither is avoiding whoever is constantly calling you,” 

“How about we go home, and you can nap,” Tobin suggested, equally as gently, backing off. “And then you can decide if you want to get ‘sick’ after the game when you wake up?” 

You nodded, pulling your sweatshirt over your head. Thorns practice was about to begin, so it would be safe. 

She wouldn’t be able to follow you, and maybe you would finally get some peace.

Tobin's arm landed heavily on your shoulder as they guided you out of the locker room, and you leaned into her, hoping they would be able to drive the dreams away. 

If your soulmate wasn’t going to look out for you, they would. 

***** you sucked in a long breath as you blinked into consciousness, shifting awkwardly in your chair. 

You frowned. You had never entered one of the dreams sitting, and you idly wondered if the position was due to how you were leaning on Christen’s shoulder as you fell asleep. 

You shifted again in the chair, your fingers falling on the engraved trim, your eyes darted to the wood, painted a shiny gold. You dragged your eyes up the white tablecloth, accented with deep red napkins to the Crystal glasses and gold-rimmed plates. Several forks and spoons flanked the plate, glinting in the dim light of the table. 

Beyond your plate was a vase, filled to the brim with dark red roses, their color so vivid they looked like they were dripping, bleeding. Much like your heart you supposed. 

You shifted again in the chair, straightening your bow tie. 

You frowned. You never wore ties. 

“What the hell?” You mumbled, your fingers dragging down the satin lapels of the tux you were wearing, towards the shiny red vest that matched the tie. 

It was too much. Too fancy. Not at all something you would ever choose for yourself. 

“The restaurant had a dress code,” 

Your eyes snapped up to meet Lindsey’s piercing blue just beyond the roses, and you lost your breath. 

She was stunning. 

Her hair shimmered like gold in the low light, pulled to one side, cascading down her shoulder. You fought to keep your eyes from trailing down the plunging neckline of her shiny black dress, focusing instead on the sparkling diamond necklace around her neck. You dragged your eyes up to her red-painted lips and finally met her eyes. 

They burned into your soul as she casually sipped her wine like she was trying to read your mind. 

“I thought you said dress codes were a no-go,” You muttered, your head tilting to the side. “It’s why you wouldn’t go to the French Laundry with me while we were in New York. You said it was too posh,” 

She hummed, sipping her wine slowly, making you wait. “Ty took me out for our anniversary. He wanted to make it nice,” 

You swallowed hard, reaching for a glass of water to help your suddenly dry throat. 

Of course, she had gone out to fancy dinners with him. Of course, she was dressed up for him. You gulped down the sudden jealousy in your throat. 

She was dating him. You didn’t have a right to feel jealous. But the thought of her dressing in something for him made the sludge in your chest roll. 

You wondered if you were in the outfit that he had worn to impress her. You wondered if seeing you in it made you feel the way her dress made you feel. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” You asked carefully, placing the water glass back on the table. 

It took everything in you to keep your voice calm, level. To pretend. 

She hummed. “It was ok. The steak was overpriced and the wine was dry,” 

Your nose scrunched. You knew that Lindsey didn’t like the pomp of fancy restaurants. That she preferred tacos and margaritas to 500$ steaks. That she liked light, floral cocktails instead of pretentious wine. 

It made you wonder why he didn’t know that. 

“Sounds too fancy for me,” 

You settled on the comment. It was safe, easy, almost normal. 

She snorted. “It was too fancy for me too. Ty picked it,”

You wanted to ask why. If it was their anniversary, shouldn’t he have done something she wanted to do?

You swallowed your question, your comment, smiling pleasantly at her instead. At least you got to be with her like this.  “It’s nice he’s being so cool about all of this,” 

She paused, her wine glass pressed to her lips, taking too long of a sip before setting it down, swirling the red liquid around the glass. “Yeah,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, noting how her eyes didn’t meet yours and her fingers tapped the rim of the glass. 

“You haven’t told him yet,” 

It was a statement of fact, incredulous in its delivery, but proven by the way her teeth closed around her bottom red-painted lip. 

You didn’t know why you were surprised. Why would she tell him? Keeping it a secret was an entirely Lindsey thing to do. 

Still, it made you feel dirty. A secret. Something to be ashamed of.

“Why would I tell him?” Her lips curled around the question dangerously.“Nothing has changed,” 

You frowned at that. Everything had changed, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He deserved to know that his girlfriend was seeing another person in her dreams. That you were tied to her for the rest of your life. 

“Because I am your soulmate, Lindsey,” You said as though it was obvious, unable to stop it as it slipped past your lips. “Does that mean nothing to you?” 

“We are friends,” She gritted out, emphasizing the words. “I have a-,“ 

“Boyfriend that you love, yes I’ve heard,” You spat back, waving your hand dismissively. It was an old argument, and frankly, you were tired of it. “What are you going to do when he finds his soulmate? I’m not some fucking consolation prize,”

“That’s not. We’re not” She stuttered, her blue eyes wide, but you still couldn’t stop. 

“We’re not what Lindsey?” You asked, bitterness creeping into your voice. Bitterness you hadn’t shown her before. “We’ve been dancing around this since we were 16. We’ve kissed more times than I can count. We would have fucked again after the World Cup if Kelley hadn’t knocked on the fucking door, or did you forget that part of our relationship,” 

She shook her head, shoving herself up from the table, but you followed her. 

You knew you were pushing her, but you couldn’t be ignored. You felt like a volcano erupting, the words bubbling out of you like lava. “How long have you known I was in love with you? How long have you used that to get me to bend to your will? Friends don’t do the things that we do!” 

You watched her face morph from shock to anger. Her features hardened before your eyes. 

You had pushed too far. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that you’ve incorporated me into some gay fantasy of yours. We’re friends,” She hissed and you recoiled like you had been slapped. 

The words felt like venom, her voice the needle injecting it straight into your veins. 

“What?” 

It was the only word you could think of as your brain tried to process what she was saying. As she used the words your mother had used against you when she kicked you out. 

“It’s your pattern,” She said, her lips curling. “You did it with Tobin in France. You did it with Emily in Portland. I’m just the next poor soul on your list,” 

“No Sonnett is my friend-“ you stumbled over your words, trying to order your thoughts, but she cut you off with a vicious smirk. “And you and her were fucking until she found Kelley,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. you had never slept with Emily. She had been hung up on Kelley just like you we stuck in Lindsey. The only difference was that her and Kelley hadn’t blurred the line like you and Lindsey did. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“She was the one who found you in Florida. You shared her one-bedroom apartment, and you followed Tobin around like a lost puppy in France,” 

“Tobin helped me stop our coach from molesting both of us Lindsey,” You ground out, your voice shaking. “Tobin made sure he didn’t fucking kill me with the extra training sessions and lack of food. If anything, she was the one following me around.” 

Your chest heaved, but you weren’t finished. “Emily only knows about Florida because they wouldn’t let me check out of the hospital after I went surfing drunk. She didn’t want me to be alone while I was dealing with the fallout of You. We have never slept together,” 

You couldn’t help the way you sneered around the word. You couldn’t help how your fist clenched in the table cloth, shifting the too-expensive dining set. 

You wanted her to acknowledge you. 

“That’s not the point,” She bit back. 

“Then what is?” You asked, your hand hitting the table, all of your feelings finally pouring out. “I fucking love you. And I thought that you felt the same. We were back in that godforsaken city and you were kissing me. We would have-“ You shook your head, your voice turning earnest. “It was almost perfect,”

Silence hung between you, punctuated only by your heavy breathing. 

Her lips pressed tightly together, and you thought maybe you had gotten through to her. But something flashed in her eyes and her features hardened. She picked up her wine glass and swirled the red liquid around. 

“I am not gay,” She grit the words out, looking away from you as if she didn’t care about the damage she would inflict and sipping her glass. “I don’t love you, and it’s not my fault that you caught feelings,” 

You let the words sink in. Let them permeate your chest like acid, and erode the final bit of your aching heart. A cool numbness was already spreading out from the wound like you had been shot. 

You knew it was too good to be true during the World Cup. That her pursuit of you, her willingness to be around the team with you was nothing more than a fling. A whim caused by the bubble and excitement. 

You cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and hoped to wake up so you could release your emotions in peace. “I can’t keep my promise,” 

******

Lindsey jolted awake, her eyes snapping open, all of her nerves on edge like she had been dumped in ice water. Her breathing came in short pants as she sat up, her hand pressing into her eyes. 

She had never heard of people being so… jarred by the dreams they shared with their soulmates. She had never heard of them ending so abruptly.

Then again, most people didn’t try to deny their soulmate. 

She let out a breath, grinding her palms into her eyes further, trying to un-sear your blank expression from her mind. 

She knew that look well. You used it every time you had to deal with your family or your PSG coach. It was your way of shielding yourself. Of pulling away so nothing could hurt you. 

She had never had that look directed at her, and it made her soul ache. 

She had never planned on hurting you, it had just kind of… happened. 

The relief that had flooded through her the moment she saw you for the first time in her dreams was indescribable. It was like the moment your goalie makes a save in a PK shootout. No. It was more. It was the moment you score after the save. 

But then she remembered. She could feel her parents' words etched into her very existence. 

She was meant to grow up and find the man of her dreams. Her knight in shining armor. 

Her mother had filled her head from the time she was small with stories of princes sweeping her off her feet. Her father had told her about the strapping young man who would make all of her dreams come true one day. The young man who she would share everything with, including her sleep. 

And both of her parents dismissed her queries about what would happen if her soulmate wasn’t a man. They had waved away her questions with easy quotes from the Bible and their pastor, and they had drilled into her head that all of her “teenage feelings” were just a phase. 

She was convinced she would outgrow them, but then. Well, then she met you. 

And you made her question everything. 

It wasn’t just that you were smart and funny and gorgeous. It was how kind your heart was. How you would give up the world to make her smile on a bad day. It was how your tough exterior had cracked just for her. 

It made butterflies erupt in her chest and tingles followed everywhere you touched. You made her feel warm and seen and… she couldn’t help but give in to those feelings. 

At first, it was in small ways, sharing your bed in France (something that brought you both immense comfort), stealing small kisses and light touches in the underbelly of stadiums. Little things that had grown into more, until the lines were so blurred she didn’t know where you stopped and she began. 

All that you had been missing was a label, so she conveniently picked one that didn’t make her afraid. One her parents wouldn’t question. 

You were her friend and the secret benefits attached never needed to be mentioned.

She pushed her feelings for you away under the ruse of platonicity. 

It was easy. It was doable. 

Until the two of you were roomed together in the bubble, trapped in a country that gave the both of you nightmares. 

She finally let herself give in to the feelings in her chest. She let her touches linger, no matter who could see. She let herself joke and enjoy your bright smiles in front of her friends. She let herself let go of the fear that being caught staring and watching still evoked. 

You looked so kissable in the locker room after the final, bragging about your game-winning goal, your dimples poking out. You looked so kissable in your stupid goggles, covered in champagne. And she…

Lindsey just couldn’t help herself. 

She hadn’t thought twice about pulling you into a spare equipment closet. She hadn’t thought twice about the way your lips pressed together or the heat that built between you in seconds. She hadn’t thought about her roving hands and how good you felt until…

If Kelley hadn’t knocked on the door, there was no telling how far the two of you would have gone. 

As you broke apart, staring at her like she hung the moon and the stars and… reality finally hit her. She couldn’t have you and keep her family. The lines were too blurred and before she could think, words were falling from her lips, matching your falling expression. she was kicking you out and you looked...hurt was too simple of a word to describe it. 

That was where her options had ended. 

You disappeared into the night, only reappearing to get on the plane, attend a parade, and then you were gone again. 

It only reinforced the lessons her parents had taught her. She would find a reliable man to support her. A man who would care for her and follow her. A man who would help her give her parents grandchildren. 

And she had. 

She sighed heavily, glancing to her left where he lay, sound asleep. 

He was good. He listened but never pushed. He held her when she cried, even when he didn’t know why. He who helped her put her broken pieces back together. 

But he wasn’t you. 

And she knew that by choosing him and protecting herself she was hurting you. An unintentional casualty she had thought of it as. Except nothing about that dream had been unintentional. 

“Fuck,” 

She dragged her hand through her hair, her elbow barely brushing him. He still jolted awake. 

“Wha, babe?” Ty asked, his voice husky as she lurched to a sitting position. “You alright?” 

She hated that her brain instantly compared you to him. How your voice sounded so much sexier than his. How you were a deeper sleeper, and didn’t jump when you woke up. How you would have wrapped her in your arms before asking questions? 

She shook her head, leaning into his side, telling him that she wanted to be held. “Yeah, bad dream,” 

It took him a second to catch on and wrap a loose arm around her. “I’m here,” He placed a very sweet kiss on her hairline. 

She let out a shuddering breath. It was too close to something you would do. “I know,” 

He was there for now, but she couldn’t stop your words from echoing in her head. 

They had talked about what they would do when they found their soulmates, how they would prefer to be with each other rather than with some random person. 

But you weren’t a random person. 

How was she supposed to tell this man? This kind man, who had picked up the pieces her fear had created. that she had found her soulmate and she wanted to go back on every promise she had ever made? 

Especially when you weren’t going to keep your promise to her. 

*****

As it turned out, 48 hours with little more than a power nap did wonders on your psyche.

You were nearing the punch-drunk stage of exhaustion before you even stepped onto the pitch. And dealing with Emily and Kelley trying to stop you for 98 minutes had sapped every last bit of fake energy you had. 

Winning the game helped, but by the time Christen and Tobin were loading you in the car for dinner, you were dead on your feet. And the anxiety about what Lindsey had or had not said to Emily had you on edge as you entered the restaurant. 

The too-fancy restaurant, with white table cloths, red rose centerpieces, and gold-rimmed plates. 

You bit your lip as you were seated, trying to force the dream from your mind. 

But as it turned out, Lindsey hadn’t told Emily anything, and that made things so much more difficult. 

It made Emily and Kelley more curious, and more focused on your every move. You could feel their eyes tracing your every movement, glued to the way Tobin pulled out your chair and Christen sent you a meaningful look when she passed you the menu. 

You knew Emily wanted an explanation for why you had been ignoring her, but you weren’t sure how to put it into words. So you avoided it. 

You avoided making eye contact or engaging in conversation and focused too hard on the menu. 

“Sanchez is super stoked for the next few camps,” Kelley said, nodding her head toward you. “She thinks she can pull out some crazy services with our ducky,” 

You hummed, peeking up at her from behind your menu, using it as a shield. 

Considering how cracked and broken your chest felt, you doubted you would be making many connections at camp. You doubted you would be able to function in the same proximity as Lindsey, much less focus on soccer. 

You didn’t think you would be able to get out of your head enough to do it. 

“She seems scrappy,” You mumbled, your eyes barely flickering towards Emily, trying to avoid the place setting. 

It had the sludge sloshing in your stomach. You couldn’t help how you idly scratched at the point right above your heart. 

It’s not my fault you’ve incorporated me into some gay fantasy. It’s your MO.

You cleared your throat, chasing her voice from your head. “If she can keep up, it’ll be fun to see how we link,” 

“She’s deadly when she connects with Trin,” Kelley said, sending a look between you and Emily. “I’m sure you two will find your groove too,” 

You tried to ignore their secret conversation. The evidence that it wasn’t the first time you were the subject. 

“It’s not surprising her and Trin are soulmates really,” Emily added, sipping her glass of red wine. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes zeroed in on it. The way the liquid in the glass pressed to red lips had your heart pounding in your chest. 

It was stupid for you to get so worked up over a glass of wine. For the mere mention of soulmates to send you over the edge, but it did. 

“Ali and JJ had their hands full trying to keep track of them,” Trying to hide the concerned look she sent your way. 

You hadn’t even realized your hand was clutching your chest, clawing at your cracked heart. 

Tobin's arm landed heavily on your shoulder, an innocuous move that was meant to ground you. To keep you in the present. “I could tell Trinity was getting frustrated, especially with Girma,” 

“She's young,” Kelley nodded. “Once she matures a bit she’s going to be as much of a force as Alex and you three,” 

“Are you ok?” Emily asked before anyone could respond, reaching across the table to lay her hand over yours. “You look like you’re gonna be sick,” 

You pulled away like you had been burned. The action was too familiar. It was too close. 

“I’m good, I’ve just gotta go to the bathroom,” You said too quickly, pushing yourself away from the table. “I’ll be back,” 

You didn’t give anyone a chance to reply before you bolted from the table, hanging a right (nearly missing a very startled waiter) and crashing into the bathroom door like it was a Canadian defender. 

You stumbled into the sink, clutching the sink like it was a lifeline, praying that the cool granite countertop could calm the wave crashing through your chest. The unrelenting tsunami unleashed by Lindsey’s words. 

It was pathetic. You were pathetic. 

Some gold-ringed plates and red wine had sent you over the fucking edge. The mention of soulmates shouldn’t send your chest tight, but it did. 

You should be able to have a normal conversation with your friends. You shouldn’t fear that the simple mention of something would make you hurt so badly. 

It was a you problem. They shouldn’t suffer for it. 

You sucked in a short, wheezy breath, your fingers wrapping in your shirt to pull your collar down. 

Pathetic. The voice in your head hissed. No wonder she doesn’t want you. 

Your other hand pressed harder into the counter, dipping your head towards the metal faucet. You almost wished you had turned it on. 

“You have to breathe,” Emily’s voice suddenly said, very close to your ear. Her arms wrapped carefully around your stomach, one hand catching your own. “Come on, match my breathing ducky,” 

You leaned back into her body, feeling her heartbeat against your back with each exaggerated breath she took for your benefit. 

It burned to try and match her, matching the ever-present ache that had been there since Lindsey rejected you. The sludge in your stomach expanded and contracted with each breath you tried to take. 

You hadn’t felt this way since the night of the World Cup. Since Kelley knocked on the door and Lindsey had told you to get out. Since she told you you were nothing.

“I know it hurts, but you need to breathe,” Emily said, pulling you back towards her so she was hugging you from behind. 

You nodded, your lips pressing together tightly, your eyes slipping closed as you tried to focus on her. On the way, her arms felt around you. The way each breath hit your ear and moved against you. 

“Come on, breathe in” She hummed, sucking in a deep breath and waiting for you to follow her. You counted to 8 in your head, holding it for 4 before releasing it for 6. And repeating it. 

With each iteration, your relaxed father back into Emily, until most of your weight was leaning against her. 

She held you for a long moment, letting you gather yourself, and keeping a hand on your back as you pulled away. 

“Good?” She asked gently. 

“Yeah, good,” You nodded, your voice horse as you leaned towards the faucet, running cool water over your face before turning to face her. “Thanks,” 

“Anytime,” She said, watching you carefully, like you were a wounded animal she was afraid to back you into a corner, holding out a paper towel so you could dry your face. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

You shrugged. It had been happening to you a lot lately, the feeling that your chest was going to collapse on itself. Between Lindsey and the never-ending stream of calls from your brother, you knew they would only get that much worse. 

“You haven’t had a panic attack since France,” She continued, her voice ticking up and you knew that she wanted more of an explanation. 

You shook your head. You didn’t want to think about France anymore, or how Emily had found you in the same position after Lindsey kicked you out. How she had held you together for the night while the rest of the team celebrated. 

The only difference was that you couldn’t escape this time. There wasn’t a time limit for you to paint a smile on your face and pretend to be fine. 

“I’m fine,” You croaked, avoiding her eyes. 

“You’re not,” Emily countered, taking a step towards you, holding your hand up to stop her. You couldn't do this if she was close to you. “And I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s happening,” 

You shivered at the words. The same ones she had used before she checked you out of the hospital in Florida. 

“I just have a lot on my mind,” You muttered, pressing the paper towel into your eyes. 

“You’ve had a lot on your mind since camp,” She scoffed, hopping up on the counter next to you. “What’s going on?”

You let out a long sigh, knowing that she wasn’t going to let this go. She had refused to let anything go since she signed you out of the hospital. Since the nurse told her they had put you on a suicide hold. 

you blew out a long breath, weighing the words in your mouth. 

“I met my soulmate, and it’s complicated,” You said carefully. “I had the dream at camp and things have been difficult,” 

“And Lindsey is hurt, even though she has a boyfriend?” She asked, connecting the dots differently than you thought she would. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding all our calls and texts, even tonight,” 

She gestured towards your still buzzing phone. 

“Something like that,” You muttered, finally looking up at her.

She sent you a small, sad smile. You just appreciated there was no pity in her look. She was one of the few who was aware of the true nature of your relationship. One of the few who treated you like you weren’t fragile after you came back. One of the few who held you accountable. 

“We’ll figure it out,” She said solemnly. “At camp Kelley and I will run interference. You can forget about the drama and enjoy the game,” 

You shook your head. “I’m just so tired,” You admitted, finally letting your pain and exhaustion show on your face. Showing her that your soul was slowly seeping from your body. 

Emily pulled you close to her, and you fell into the comfort, burying your face in her chest, much like the night she had found you in France.

She squeezed you tightly as though she was holding all of your pieces together. Like she knew you were forgoing sleep to avoid your soulmate. Avoiding Lindsey. “Come on. Let’s go back, we’ll eat, and then you can get some sleep,” 

“Ok,” You agreed, letting her guide you out of the bathroom and to your seat, completely ignoring Kelley’s questioning eyes and Christen’s worried expression. 

“Everything alright?” Tobin finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the table, looking right at you. 

“Yeah, all good,” You mumbled. “I think I’m just going to get a cheeseburger,” 

You ignored Emily’s low scoff at the change of subject and Kelley’s raised eyebrow. 

The sludge in your stomach rocked but didn’t flair up like you expected it to. 

“Fishy and King said they were good here,” You added. 

“They said their onion rings were fire too,” Tobin jumped in, and you knew that it was just because she would get details of whatever had happened later, but for now she allowed you to change the subject. 

Christen hummed across the table, and you breathed a sigh of relief as the conversation restarted. 

You tried to relax and just enjoy your friends.

There would be time to worry later. 

******

Tobin had learned a long time ago that you didn’t always express yourself in words. She had learned to instead watch you because your body language always gave you away. She learned that you would tell her what was bothering you eventually, and that patience was the most useful tool she had. 

So that’s what she did, despite how much she wanted to know what happened in the bathroom. 

She watched as Kelley and Emily pulled unwilling smiles from your lips. As they got your shoulders to relax and genuine laughs to escape your 

It was the happiest she had seen you in months. The most… alive, despite how you flinched each time your phone buzzed in your pocket. 

You still hadn’t told her and Christen exactly who was calling you. 

She smiled as you leaned heavily into Christen as you all made your way down the sidewalk, towards the Washington Spirit hotel, making small talk with Emily. 

The small curve of your lips was a win in her opinion. She could see the effects of the soulmate bond. The slow decay of your soul was a painful inevitability, and your hesitancy to share your pain with them was hard for her. You had been better about coming to them, but you were still hesitant, and she knew the pressure was mounting 

She worried about what would happen when her and Christen weren’t there for support. 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to wait for whatever BS story she told Em?” Kelley nudged Tobin’s ribs, nodding her head towards you. “Whatever happened in the bathroom looked pretty intense, and she was looking rough even before that,” 

“It probably was,” Tobin said half under her breath, her eyes never leaving you. “She’s just… she’s going through a lot right now. I’m pretty sure Chris and I don’t even know the whole story,”

Kelley raised an eyebrow, a clear indication that she wanted more information, earning a long sigh from Tobin. 

The midfielder-turned-forward’s eyes cut to Emily meaningfully. “All we know is that it’s a… personal thing,”

Soulmates shared everything, they held no secrets between them. It was an inherent downside to sharing your dreams with someone. So if she told Kelley, then Emily would know too, and she wasn’t about to betray your trust. 

Kelley followed her eyes, understanding blooming in her features. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t share more than I have to. I just want to help,” She said more softly, honesty in her tone. “What’s the personal thing?”

“It’s a problem with her soulmate,” Tobin said softly, the words barely above a whisper like it would soften the blow, but Kelley still recoiled. 

It all made sense. The dark circles under your eyes, the ache that coated every one of your movements, the exhaustion a simple smile brought. 

Kelley knew the symptoms well. 

“That sucks,” She sighed. 

You were such a good kid, and you never seemed to catch a break. 

“Majorly,” Tobin agreed, remembering how you had cried in her arms. “I’m worried about how she’ll be at camp,” 

She didn’t mention that you dealing with Lindsey on your own was something that made her very nervous. She didn’t mention that she was concerned about your propensity for self-destruction or running away. 

It had taken both her and Emily to track you down to Florida. She didn’t want to find you living in a tent on the beach. She didn’t want to have to convince you that being with your friends was worth dealing with your feelings. She didn’t want to get a call that you weren’t allowed to check out of a hospital by yourself. 

“Em and I will keep an eye on her,” Kelley said, catching Tobin's arm... “I’m sure Lindsey will help too,” 

Tobin grimaced, her eyes turning dark. “Let’s keep Lindsey out of it,” 

Kelley’s head tilted to the side, squinting. Lindsey was your best friend. The two of you had been inseparable until last camp. But she thought better of it than to comment. She knew the past the two of you shared after all. 

“Is that who’s blowing up her phone?” Kelley asked, her brain working to catch up. “Or is it the random soulmate?” 

Tobin shook her head, running a hand frustratedly through her hair. “She won’t tell us who has been calling her nonstop. It was so bad she stashed her phone in a sock drawer,” 

Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. Tobin wasn’t kidding when she said you were dealing with a lot. It seemed like the perfect mess of things. A web of pain with you at the epicenter. She just worried they wouldn’t be able to untangle you until it was too late. 

“We’ll keep an eye on her. I promise,” Kelley said solemnly, already knowing that Emily planned to watch out for you anyway. She had been worried for weeks, and now that the younger defender had definitive proof there was something wrong, there would be no stopping her. Kelley had already agreed to be along for the ride. “Now let’s try to keep her in a good mood. She deserves that,” 

You were always there for Emily, and she was determined to be there for you. You were like a little sister, she just hoped you would let her help. 

*****

Kelley knew within the first hour of camp that Tobin had been right to be worried. 

You were like a shell of yourself. She had seen it briefly at dinner, but being around you for an extended period exemplified how not ok you were. 

Your easy smile was gone, as was the light that always seemed to follow you. 

The only place you weren’t completely off was the field. 

You were cutthroat, slicing up the young defense with no mercy. You barely took the time to direct like you normally would, and it seemed you had no patience for the new midfield to catch up. You didn’t explain or teach. And you had simply shrugged when Kelley asked why. 

It was more selfish than you normally played and it was painfully obvious you were more focused on winning than having fun or helping the rest of the team. 

It was just so not like you, and other people on the team were starting to notice. 

But you seemed unbothered by the attention. The stares. You had barely looked at any of them. 

The only one you seemed to notice was Lindsey, something that didn’t surprise her considering what Emily told her about the bathroom incident. 

There was just something off about the story though. Something off about Lindsey’s reaction. It wasn’t… the reaction she would have expected if Lindsey was upset about you finding your soulmate. 

“You look like a creeper,” Emily hummed, kissing her cheek, wrapping her arms around her soulmate, and resting her head on her shoulder, following her gaze. “You’ve been staring for a long time,” 

“Just trying to read the dynamic,” Kelley mumbled, squinting as you nodded down another one of Sanchez’s crosses, and Huerta lined up to send one in from the other side.

You had been reluctant to agree to their request after practice, only saying yes to avoid Lindsey (from what Kelley could tell). 

Lindsey glared at the pair as they asked you, cutting off her attempt to get close to you while you were getting water. That glare hadn’t stopped, even as you headed back towards the pitch. 

Lindsey was blatant with the daggers she was sending toward Sofia and Sanchez. But it didn’t strike Kelley as friendly jealousy. 

She was trying too hard to close the distance. She was watching you too closely. 

It was too much. 

“Looks like jealousy to me,” Emily chuckled, tightening her arms around Kelley’s waist, and kissing just behind her ear. “She’s totally jealous,”

“But what kind of jealous?” Kelley asked slowly, leaning into Emily’s lips. “Watch,” 

Emily followed her gaze. Lindsey stood on the sideline, arms crossed, watching where Huerta was setting up a cross. The midfielder glared at the young defender, muttering something neither Kelley nor Emily could hear just before she took the cross. 

It was slightly off-target, but that wasn’t a problem for you. You bodied it down and finished it easily with a heel flick. 

Even without defenders around it was impressive. 

It shouldn’t be that easy. 

“You curl it where she’s going, not where she is,” Lindsey hissed towards Huerta, as you kicked the ball out of the net, passing it to Sanchez. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed when you didn’t stick up for the youngins like you normally would. But then again, that would require interacting with Lindsey. 

It was strange to see Lindsey so moody, so… unhelpful. 

“It can’t be Sofia right?” Emily asked. 

Kelley snorted at the question. Sofia was sweet, but she tiptoed around you, and not in the way that would indicate anything remotely romantic. Plus you had been on a team with her before you went to Angel City. Things wouldn’t have gotten as out of hand as they had. 

“Tobin would have murdered Huerta,” Kelley muttered thoughtfully. “And Y/n has barely looked at either of them,” 

The only person you had made eye contact with was Lindsey. 

“It can’t be one of our teammates Kelley,” it was Emily’s turn to scoff. “She’s tearing herself apart and none of them would do that to her,” 

The team held soulmates above all else, and as far as she knew, none of them would hurt you that way. None of them would stand by idly while the dark circles grew under your eyes and the light left your smile. None of them would let you self-destruct trying to make them happy. 

Kelley’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I think the more pressing issue is her sleep schedule,” 

“Christen already warned me,” Emily agreed. “She goes days without it if you don’t watch her,” 

“I’ll talk to Alex and get it swapped,” Kelley said. “She’ll understand and agree,” 

Their eyes watched you as you walked away from the youngins and finally settled onto the bench. Your exhaustion was obvious in the slump in your posture, the way you barely lifted your arm to squirt water into your mouth, even though you were trying to hide it. 

You glanced down at your phone, glaring at the small device. You let out a long sigh, before pushing yourself to your feet and walking away from the group to answer the call. 

“We need to figure out what’s going on outside of the soulmate thing too,” Kelley mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing. “Cause whatever it is can’t be good either,” 

Emily hummed in agreement. “Definitely,” 

*****

It wasn’t that Kelley liked to snoop. It was just that it was too easy to follow after you when you hadn’t reappeared on the field after you took the phone call. 

It had been too enticing to deny.

They needed to know what they were dealing with, and hearing part of that conversation would tell them what you wouldn’t. Plus Kelley was like an older sister, protective and overbearing in her own way. 

She could get away with a little spying, and if you caught her, you would be more likely to open up rather than flip out. 

Kelley also wasn’t stuck between you and Lindsey. She had always been closer to you. 

So she crept up to the door that separated the bathroom from the locker room. She pressed the door open just enough to be able to see your form, pacing back and forth, the phone pressed to your ear. 

“Stop calling me Tyler. Nothing has changed, even now,”  You growled, your lips forming a tight line. “I don’t care that she’s dying,” 

She frowned at the mention of your brother. 

You ran a hand through your hair, tugging harshly at the strands as you listened to whatever he was saying, your head already shaking. 

“There is nothing to consider, stop calling me. I only need to know when it’s done,” You spat into the phone, ripping it away from your ear and jabbing at the screen before you tossed it carelessly toward your locker. 

You looked like you wanted to scream or cry, or hit something, and Kelley felt her heart break for you. 

You were always the strong one. You pretended to be fine for everyone else’s sake. It was rare you let your vulnerability show. Rare enough that Kelley had never seen it herself. 

You turned, content on pacing the small room again, only to freeze in your tracks at what Kelley assumed was a person at the door that connected the locker room to the hallway. 

She leaned forward, catching blonde hair and white nail polish over crossed arms. 

Lindsey, she thought. 

The midfielder pushed off of the door, taking the three steps it took to close the space between you. Kelley wasn’t sure how long Lindsey had been watching you. She wasn’t sure how much of the conversation she had heard. 

Your posture changed, and your eyes hardened. “Look, I can’t deal with you too right now, alright?” 

The coldness of your tone shook Kelley to the core. She wasn’t sure if you had ever used anything like it before. 

“Deal with me?” Lindsey scoffed, exasperated stepping closer, so the two of you were nearly touching. “Can’t I just be a concerned friend?” 

“We are not friends,” 

Your voice was like ice. A knife razor sharp, and unyielding. You delivered it with a tilt of your chin, a glint in your eyes. A heavy blow thrown with complete accuracy. A blow to what Kelley didn’t know, but from the way Lindsey’s face fell, she knew the shot had landed. 

It didn’t make sense. Not unless- 

Kelley’s jaw dropped at the implication. Lindsey couldn’t be your-

“So you’ve said,” Lindsey said back, her voice too even, too calm despite the pain laced in it. But she didn’t leave your space. 

“Don’t do that,” You snapped, shoving a finger in her chest and finally putting distance between you. Kelley winced at the action. 

“What?” Lindsey bit back, her chin tilted up in defiance, her arms spread out to the side.“I’m not doing anything,” 

Kelley held her breath. There was more being said than the words between you, and the way your back straightened at Lindsey’s sentence was as bad a sign as she had seen. 

“You’re never doing anything,” You spat back. “Perfect Lindsey is always the victim, right? It’s big bad Y/n who is in the wrong, preying on the innocent right?” 

You spat the words like venom. Like there was something else that went with them. A line that both you and Lindsey knew, but Kelley did not. 

Lindsey’s face fell. “I don’t-“ 

“You never fucking do!” You shouted, a flush traveling up your neck to your cheeks as your fists clenched. Hurt and anger permeating your entire being. “You can stop being a bitch to Sanchez and Huerta. They’re kids who won’t leave me the fuck alone,”

Lindsey let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look I’m sorry about what I said, ok?”

“No. It’s not ok Lindsey,” You answered, your voice soft but cold as ever.  “It will never be ok,” 

“What do you want from me?” Lindsey pleaded. “What do I say to fix it?��

You paused, staring at her like she had grown a third head. 

“Fix it? You haven’t even told your fucking boyfriend yet, have you?” you asked the word bitterly, and her silence was enough of an answer for both you and Kelley. You shook your head. “You’re un-fucking-believable, you know,” 

And it all made sense to Kelley. The tension between the two of you. Your pain. 

“I don’t-“ Lindsey stuttered, but you cut her off easily. 

“You do,” You said, a weight of finality in your tone. “Just leave. me. alone. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t corner me. Just stay away from me,” 

The words were punctuated by the sound of you grabbing your bag, and Kelley stumbled back into one of the stalls, hoping you wouldn’t catch her. 

But she wasn’t fast enough, caught in the curtain as you pushed your way through the door. 

You rolled your eyes at the defender, more irritated by Lindsey than Kelley’s eavesdropping. 

You already expected the extra ears, especially after your episode at dinner with Kelley, Emily, and Preath. They were nosey, even if it was for the right reasons. 

You chose to ignore her as you picked your own shower stall, partially because you didn’t want to address it, but also because you didn’t know if you could speak without your voice cracking and you didn’t want to lose it here. Not with her in the next room, or your friends around to see. 

You were not an emotional person, and being so raw made you uncomfortable. 

“That seemed like a rough conversation,” Kelley said finally, stepping so she could lean on the frame of the entrance to your stall.

You blew out a long, shaky breath, dropping your extra clothes and towel on the little chair. 

“Not you too,” You grumbled. “what’s with you and Emily cornering me in bathrooms,” 

“What’s with you running to them?” Kelley countered, raising an eyebrow at you.

You closed your eyes, your head leaning back on the shower wall with a thump. 

The sludge in your stomach sloshed unyieldingly. The pain in your chest echoing out with each beat of your heart. You unconsciously brought your hand up to clutch over the area, your nails digging into the sensitive skin through your shirt. 

“I don’t want to talk about this alright?” 

Kelley softened at the quiet, vulnerable request, reaching up to catch your hand, flattening it against her palm. “You’re shaking,” 

You bit your lip, nodding down to your chest. “It hurts,” 

Her eyes followed your gesture, and her heart sank a little bit more. 

She knew the symptoms of soulmate sickness. She had experienced its effects for herself. That wasn’t something she wanted you to have to go through. 

“Let me see,” She said softly, waiting for you to nod before she reached for you. 

She was gentle as she pulled your practice jersey over your head, her breath catching when she saw the black mark on your chest, right over your heart. 

It was dark at the very center, several rings of what looked like bruises surrounded it and a web of black veins sprouted from the center. 

It was a physical symptom of your emotional pain. A visual representation of rejection from a soulmate. The necrotic tissue spreading from your crushed heart. 

She watched as the veins pulsed, pushing the dark color further from the epicenter, eating away at your chest. 

“Oh my god,” She breathed out, her eyes snapping to yours. “Do Tobin and Christen know?” 

You nodded once. It was hard to hide when you were living on their couch. Plus they had been there when the first black mark appeared. “It wasn’t this bad until last week. Things kinda took a turn,” 

“I can see that,” She said, retracting her hand when you winced after she lightly touched the angriest of the black veins. “Was this before or after your stopped sleeping,”

“I stopped sleeping after she rejected me the first time,” You scoffed, gritting your teeth when the pain pulsed yet again. 

“Well that’s not gonna continue,” Kelley said sternly.  “I swapped with Alex,” 

“Of course, you did,” You groaned. “I don’t need a parent,” 

“No, you don’t,” She said slowly. “But you don’t have to struggle through all of this alone,” 

You gulped, as her eyes searched you before she pulled you into a tight hug. You buried your face in her neck, letting her strong arm and scent soothe you. 

“I’m not pushing Lindsey away because I want to be alone,”

“No, you’re pushing her away because it hurts less,” Kelley agreed, and there was no judgment in her voice. “Because every time you let her close, she cuts you,”

You appreciated that. 

“It didn’t hurt like this until she called it a gay fantasy and accused me of sleeping with all of my friends,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

It was only after the dream that the mark appeared. You guessed it was because it was an actual rejection. 

Kelley tensed underneath you, cursing under her breath. That was more than just a complication, and she wished Tobin had been more informative. Unless Tobin didn’t know. 

It made sense why you didn’t want to sleep. Why was your brother bothering you? None of that made sense, but they could only tackle one problem at a time. 

“She’s an idiot,” Kelley said finally, pulling back so she could look you in the eye. “but tearing yourself apart isn’t the answer. You need sleep. Let me help,”

You met her eyes, and you saw the worry. The anger. The understanding that rivaled Tobins. She made you feel safe. 

“Ok,”

******

Kelley was on a warpath so deadly that even Emily didn’t think she could stop her. Frankly, Emily wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stop her. 

Not after Kelley told her. Not after she saw the black mark herself. It made her chest ache just looking at it. 

It was worse that she knew one of her best friends was the cause of it. That Lindsey had not only accused you of sleeping with your friends but dismissed your bond with such vulgar language. 

They had been lucky to make it through dinner without any outbursts, especially with the way Lindsey stared at your every movement, stilted as they were, and the way she was glowering at Emily and Kelley like she knew they knew. 

But Emily wondered if Lindsey knew. If she had given any thought to the consequences of her actions. 

You had only stayed long enough to eat before excusing yourself back to your own room. Lindsey followed, sending a meaningful glare toward the defender pair as she passed. 

“She’s warning us,” Kelley muttered, standing as soon as the door closed. “I don’t like it,” 

Emily sighed, pushing herself to her feet and trailing after her soulmate. “I don’t like any of this,” 

She hoped Lindsey went back to her room. She hoped that Lindsey wouldn’t push, not when you were already so far on edge. 

Her hopes were dashed as the elevator doors binged open and there she was sitting outside your hotel room door. 

“Don’t you know the meaning of stay away?” Kelley growled as they approached the midfielder. Emily placed a gentle hand on Kelley’s arm, hoping to prevent the second half of the sentence. The match that would light the inevitable blow up. 

“She’s probably asleep,” Emily said, her grip on Kelley tightening. Afraid of what the defender would say. “She said she wanted to nap after she finished eating,” 

It had been a fight to get you to agree that you desperately needed a nap. A fight to get you to recognize that the only way to deal with the stress of camp was to give your body the support it needed. 

“She probably exhausted herself flirting with the kids,” Lindsey grumbled, patting the carpeted floor. 

“She exhausted herself protecting the little bit she has left.” Kelley snapped back.  “We could only convince her to sleep because we promised we’d prevent you from following her there. Prevent you from cornering her again,” 

It had been true. They swore they would make sure Lindsey stayed awake so you could avoid another unwanted confrontation, one Lindsey seemed intent on having. 

You were too tired to fight, and both defenders feared that any more pushing would make the mark on your chest grow. 

“This isn’t all my fault,” Lindsey bit back, shoving herself to her feet and advancing toward Kelley. 

At least it got her away from your door. 

Kelley’s face hardened, and she pressed against Emily’s restraining arm, getting as close to the midfielder as she could. “No. You just belittled the bond you share and accused her of fucking all of her teammates,” 

Lindsey glared, stepping so she was toe to toe with Kelley at the clear challenge. “Are you trying to tell me that Y/n didn’t fuck her way back to the plane in France, or on the beach in Florida?” 

“How fucking blind are you Lindsey,” Kelley scoffed, her chest pushing against Emily’s restraining arm, trying to get closer. 

“Easy,” Emily said, her arm tightening around Kelley, her eyes never leaving the midfielder. “Y/n has been trying to get over you for forever,” 

Lindsey's lip curled at the gentle admission. “And she followed you like a puppy when you brought her back to Portland,” 

A dark look crossed Emily’s face. Both her and Tobin were particularly protective of your time in Florida for a reason. You were a mess when you got back. A self-destructive mess, and it had taken so long to get you out of those habits. To prevent more scars. 

“They were only so close because Em was the one who found her after I found you in the closet,” Kelley answered before she could, her voice turning cruel. “What was it you said to her as you shoved her half-dressed into the hallway? That what you two were doing meant nothing? That she meant nothing?”

Kelley would never forget finding you and Emily that night. The way her own soulmate explained exactly what Lindsey said to you. The guilt she felt at how knocking on a door had set your spiral into motion again. 

But that was nothing compared to this. No. Lindsey had dismissed the bond you shared as a gay fantasy and you were tearing yourself apart over it. 

“She was afraid you would reject her again, or that she would have to pretend the two of you hadn’t blurred the friendship line,” Emily added more softly, finally letting go of Kelley. 

Leaving you alone didn’t feel like a good move right now. 

“Go, check on her,” Kelley said, pushing the blonde defender towards the door with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be good I promise,” 

Kelley waited for the door to close before turning her cold eyes back on the midfielder. 

“She was right to be afraid,” She said, her voice soft but deadly, like a razor running on delicate skin.  “You fucked this up. You were the one who made the choice. Who has made all of the choices? You don’t get to comment on how Y/n protects herself. You need to wake up before you push her too far,” 

With that, she stepped around the stunned midfielder and entered the hotel room too. 

*****

“You told me to call you when it was done,” Your brother's muffled voice met her as she stepped through the door. “It’s done. The service is tomorrow and you’re expected to be there,” 

She frowned at the scene, you perched on the end of the bed next to Emily, pinching the bridge of your nose, the phone held up to your ear. 

“I’ll be there,” You said softly, making eye contact with Kelley, exhaustion clear in your features. 

There was no I love you exchanged between you and your brother as the line went dead. 

Kelley approached you carefully, taking up your other side so you were seated between the defenders. “What’s going on?” 

You ran a hand through your hair, puffing out your cheeks and blowing out a long breath. You took a long moment to order your thoughts, pushing the ones of Lindsey from your mind. 

You could only deal with one problem at a time. 

“My mom died, I have to go,” You said slowly, dragging your hand down your face. “I’ll be back before the next game, but I’ve gotta go,” 

You pushed yourself to your feet and began shoving clothing into your bag. 

“Slow down,” Kelley said, standing and catching your arm as you tried to shove a sweatshirt into your bag. 

You stopped, throwing your head back toward the ceiling with a low groan. Kelley’s hand found your back, silently supporting you. 

“I can’t,” The words slid from your lips, landing like Little rocks on a pond. “I didn’t want to deal with any of this, but I have to,” 

“Your brother is the one who’s been calling you,” Kelley supplied, filling in the gap. 

You nodded. “My mother was in hospice. Her dying request was a conversation with me,” 

“She had no right to ask for that,” Emily said, moving to stand on your other side. “Not after the way you grew up,”

You bit your lip. 

“Y/n,” Kelley sighed, rubbing your back. 

You shook your head. You didn’t have a choice in this. In any of it. 

“Well she did, and now she’s dead,” You said finally, pulling yourself out of their comforting arms and towards your bag.  “It’s another thing I’ve fucked up,”

The only good thing about this situation was that you would be back in time for the game against South Korea in Kansas City. That the game was in the town you had to go to anyway. 

“Stop. Look at me,” Emily caught your arm again, using a thumb under your chin to force you to look her in the eyes. She raised an eyebrow at you. “you know none of this is your fault right?” 

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and for the first time, she saw the little spark in your eyes go dead. It was the first time she saw the full toll of the soulmate bond on you. The full force of the pressure from your family and the team. 

“Look. I don’t want to. I haven’t wanted to deal with any of this, but I have to,” Your voice shook as you said the words. You gulped, shoving your feelings into a little box. “So just let me, and try to get along with Linds. She can’t help how she feels, and she doesn’t need the entire team against her,” 

You didn’t want them to fight a fight that wasn’t their own. 

It was between Lindsey and you, and they didn’t need to destroy the team dynamic over something that was your problem. 

You should be able to be her friend. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t hold the same feelings you did.

The things she said to you were your problem, not your friend’s problem. 

“I have to go,” You said, grabbing your bag. 

Kelley stared at you for a long moment, before pulling you into a hug. “We’re here for you,” 

You let out a breath, accepting the comfort. “I know,” 

You pulled away, nodding at Emily as you walked out the door. 

You should have been expecting Lindsey to be waiting for you. You should have been prepared, but you weren’t. 

You made eye contact with her as you stepped into the hallway, and it made your chest ache. Her burning blue made the ice in your veins prickle, and your heart lurched in your chest. 

You steeled yourself, opting to roll your eyes and step past her. It hurt less than commenting or trying to hold conversation. 

But she didn’t let you pass. Her fingers wrapped around your arm. 

“Y/n wait. Can we talk?” She asked, her fingers tightening slightly at the question. 

You twisted your arm, pulling away, and stepping towards the elevator. You clicked the call button. 

“Maybe you should try again later,” Emily said, sliding between you and Lindsey. 

You could feel her sending you worried looks over her shoulder., trying to act as a mediator between her two best friends. You caught her hand, intent on telling her to stay out of it, that this was your problem, but Lindsey didn’t give you the chance. 

“What’s wrong with now?” Lindsey hissed, stepping closer so she was pressed into Emily, and Emily was pressed into you. 

You took an involuntary step back, breathing a sigh of relief when the elevator binged open. 

You didn’t answer, stepping into the elevator, and making eye contact again as it slid closed. 

“Y/n please!” She pleaded as the door slid closed. 

But you just blinked at her. You didn’t have anything to say back. 

You couldn’t uncap your emotions now. If you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop. 

And you needed to be in control if you were going to face your family. 

*****

Lindsey clutched her chest as the elevator door slid closed as if she was trying to grab the sudden pain that shot through her. 

It was a feeling she had never experienced before. A stabbing sensation that lit her nerve endings on fire. 

You had been so cold. So… indifferent, not towards her at least. 

And she couldn’t stand it. In the locker room, you had been all vitriol and rage. She could understand your anger. She knew how to respond to anger. 

She could throw your pain back at you if you were simply angry. She could be angry in return. She could pretend that she didn’t know she was hurting you. She could pretend that she didn’t loathe herself for it. 

But the way you looked at her. She couldn’t pretend that you weren’t in agony. That you weren’t suffering. 

She didn’t know what to do with it. She didn’t know how to stop. Not without admitting the truth, and that fucking terrified her. 

But losing you terrified her more. It was her greatest fear. 

She had almost convinced herself that she hadn’t lost you. That it was just a disagreement you would get over. But as the elevator doors dinged shut, it was clear that this was different. 

Her phone pinged, and it made her want to vomit. She knew it was him. She hated how her heart no longer leaped for him, but she wasn’t ready to put him out of his misery either. 

She glared down at the device, sliding down the wall next to the elevator, unable to hold herself up. 

“Great fucking timing,” She muttered, rubbing a frustrated hand through her hair. 

She didn’t know how to stop. She didn’t know how to fix it. She just… didn’t know. 

She closed her eyes, tilting her head up to the sky. She wasn’t sure if she believed in a god anymore (just that thought would make her parents’ head roll), but if there was, she wished he would tell her what the fuck to do. She wished he would tell her how the fuck she was supposed to fix this. 

She felt Emily’s eyes on her for a long moment, before the defender slid down the wall to sit beside her. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Lindsey said, taking a deep, watery breath. “Any of this,” 

“She didn’t leave camp because of you,” Emily’s shoulders lifted and fell. “Her mom died. She’ll be back with us when we get to Kansas,” 

Lindsey sucked in another deep breath.

So that was what your brother was harassing you about. That was the thing he wanted you to do. 

She knew how strained your relationship with your family was. Your mother kicked you out when you were 16 because she found you kissing your high school girlfriend. 

When she called her your… gay fantasy.

She had used the same term to insult you. 

Jesus, how was she so fucking stupid? 

“I’m sorry,”

Lindsey’s voice was heavy, weighed down by emotions she didn’t know how to put into words. 

Emily’s shoulders lifted and fell again. “It’s not me you’ve gotta convince,” 

Lindsey hated how indifferent she sounded too. How careful not to get in the middle. 

And as if on cue, her phone pinged again. 

She glared at the device, straining to prevent herself from throwing it across the room as if it was the root cause of all of her issues. 

It buzzed again in her hand. 

Emily rolled her eyes at the device. “I think the first step to showing her you’re sorry is to have a very important conversation with him,” 

Lindsey frowned. How did Emily know she hadn’t told him yet? “How?” 

“A locker room isn’t a good place for a private chat,” Emily shrugged for the 3rd time, and Lindsey wanted to scream. How was the blonde defender so… blasé? 

It made the ache in her chest throb like the pain was in time with her heart. She rubbed at the spot on her chest, and the weight of Emily’s pitying gaze was too much to handle.

She couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks, or the sobs that shook her to her core. 

She didn’t deserve to cry. Not when she was the creation of the entire mess. Not when she was the one to make the choice. 

Emily sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. 

Lindsey gripped her shirt with her free hand like her life depended on it. 

Emily rubbed her back, resting her chin on blonde hair. It killed her to see you both so… distraught. She loved you both so much. No matter how unhappy she was with her friend, the blonde defender wasn’t heartless. She couldn’t sit back while one of her best friends sobbed. 

She hugged Lindsey tightly, rocking side to side. “I’ve got you. You’re ok,” 

Lindsey shuttered against her chest, her tears leaking into Emily’s shirt. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lindsey cried, gripping Emily’s shirt for dear life. 

Emily shushed her softly. “I know,” 

She did know. She had seen the way Lindsey rubbed her chest and knew it was from the bond. The midfielder was getting a small taste of the agony you were in. A small feel of a soul being degraded. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Lindsey hiccupped, pulling away. 

Emily sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. She didn’t know what to do either, well nothing that Lindsey was ready to do yet (break up with your boyfriend came to the front of her mind). 

But past that, you weren’t at a place where you were ready to forgive Lindsey either. The midfielder hit a very sore spot. She had opened old wounds with little care. Wounds that would take time to heal. 

“Well,” Emily said slowly. “Y/n has a lot to deal with right now. I don’t think pressuring her will help,” 

“So I give up?” Lindsey sniffed. 

Emily shook her head, raising an eyebrow, and instantly correcting her. “I think you give her the space she asked you for,” 

Lindsey nodded once but bit her lip. “What if I see her? I can’t stop the dreams,” 

Maybe a part of her was hoping to see you in a space where you couldn’t run away. Where she could finally get out all the things she wanted to say, even if you weren’t ready to hear it yet. 

“I think you still try to give her space,” Emily cracked a smile as if she was reading the midfielder's mind.  “You remember how to be a good human, don’t you?” 

Lindsey got the look in her eye that she did when they were running film, and she had just found the other team’s weakness. 

“I can do that,” She nodded, her determination clear. 

Emily only hummed in response, I hope you can, echoing in her mind. Because if Lindsey couldn’t, well, that wasn’t a bridge Emily wanted to have to cross. It wasn’t a bridge Emily thought you would survive crossing. 

*****

Lindsey’s nose scrunched as she came into awareness, her arms folding around herself in a tight hug as she shifted on the uncomfortable wooden floor. Goosebumps erupted on her arms and legs, a doomed attempt to fight the cold that surrounded her and settled deep into her bones. 

She shifted again as her eyes blinked open, the floor creaking dangerously below her. She squinted at the dim blue ceiling, trailing down the peeling blue walls. 

It was dark and dingy, unlike the previous dreams the two of you had shared. She idly wondered if it was due to the only source of light being a small window above the bed, or if it was a manifestation of something darker. 

She let out a breath, watching as it left her in a white puff of mist, curling gently around her, highlighting how sad your small form curled on the windowsill looked. 

You matched the room it seemed. 

There was a small twin bed shoved against one wall and a broken dresser that stood at the end of your bed. It surprised her that those were the only items within the 4 walls. You didn’t even have a closet. 

The only part of the room that looked new was the heavy wooden door. It had no handle, only a series of 4 shiny metallic locks. Her eyebrows furrowed. The keyholes were pointed inward. 

She wondered if it was something the dream world had created. A way to force the two of you to have an actual conversation. One that she wasn’t prepared for. 

You had asked for space after all. She assumed that translated to the dream world instead. 

“It locks from the outside,” You answered her unasked question, never looking away from the window. 

Her eyes snapped to you. “What?”

“The door,” You said, turning to wave a hand at the object, and resting your chin on your knees. “My mom used to lock it from the outside,” 

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected you to address her. 

The red ring around your eyes was shocking, as was the way it made the Y/e/c in your eyes stand out. The pain in them was raw, real. It made Lindsey’s chest ache. 

“Oh,” She breathed out, the weight of the implication too heavy for her brain to work through. 

She knew your childhood was bad, but seeing the place you had grown up was… something else. It made her feel like she had ice in her beings, prickling at her skin from the inside out. 

You shrugged, letting your legs fall off the sill and sliding onto the small twin bed. It creaked underneath you. “That's why I liked to sleep at the field. At least there I was free,” 

Lindsey swallowed the lump in her throat with a slow nod, trying not to focus on how the mattress dipped under your light weight. 

You leaned forward, your feet resting on the floor, your elbows on your knees and your chin in your hands. And you looked… sad. Pale and completely defeated. Being in this place was more torment than anything else for you, and Lindsey wondered if this was actually the place you were sleeping for the night. 

If your brother was punishing you for ignoring him. If you were surviving your family. 

The silence stretched between the two of you, as you chewed on your bottom lip watching her as she watched you. You reminded her of a wounded animal, backed into a corner. Trapped in a cage you couldn’t escape. 

It made Lindsey’s chest ache. She couldn’t just sit in silence with you. 

“I- I know you don’t believe me, but I’m sorry,” She stuttered out, barely above a whisper. 

You instinctively knew she was telling the truth, and part of you wondered if it was some weird soulmate thing. The other part of you was too… exhausted to care.

You shifted on the bed, carefully rubbing over the spot on your chest, grimacing as you pressed too hard into the tender skin. 

You couldn’t deal with that and your family and Lindsey all at the same time. It was just… too much. 

“Can we just… not?” You asked slowly, and you hated the pain that permeated the sentence. You hated how Lindsey slumped back against the wall at the request. How… hurt she looked. 

You didn’t want to hurt her, no matter how much pain she had inflicted on you. Two wrongs didn’t make a right. 

She was once your best friend. She had held you while you suffered serious abuse in France. She held you together during your first NWSL season, and during the World Cup when the pressure of being back in the place that had hurt you and the need to perform had been too much. She had willingly blurred and crossed lines that you never had before. 

Lindsey had always helped you handle your emotions, and though you didn’t have the right to ask her, you needed her in a way that settled deep in your bones. Like you couldn’t breathe without her. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the rejection you knew you deserved. 

“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but can we just pretend tonight that we don’t hate each other?” You asked, so softly she almost didn’t hear you, staring at the floor right by her feet. 

“What?” Her eyebrows furrowed as you made eye contact again. 

You worried your bottom lip, taking a second to gather the courage to ask her again. “Can we just be the old Y/n and the old Lindsey?” You held out a hand, noticing it was shaking. Your entire body was shaking. “just for tonight? Can we pretend that none of this ever happened?” 

Lindsey had every right to deny you, especially when that was all she had asked of you from the beginning. All she wanted was to keep her best friend, and you couldn’t give her that. You told her you weren’t friends. 

Why in the hell should she give you this now? 

Lindsey gulped, slowly standing and taking your hand. Emily’s words echoed in her head. You remember how to be a good human, don’t you?

“Yeah, we can do that,” 

Your hand squeezed hers once, twice, three times. 

She smiled softly, as you scooted back on the bed, making space for her beside you. She very slowly joined you on the bed, trying not to wince when it nearly collapsed around the two of you. You wiggled your way under her arm, gently settling your head on her chest. 

Warmth bloomed from the spot that you touched. It made the icicles in her veins retreat. It made the pain in her chest shrink. It made her feel… right. 

She let her fingers trace patterns on your back and felt you slowly relax against her. She held you closer when she felt the tears leaking through her shirt and the subtle shake of your back. 

Each little droplet burned her like acid, and the ice followed in their wake. It killed her that she was the reason for them. 

“I don’t hate you,” Lindsey said, breaking the silence between you, staring at a dark patch in the ceiling. “And I had no right to say those things to you. I let my jealousy get the best of me,” 

You hummed in response, rubbing your cheek against her chest. It made the pain in your chest lessen. 

“I’m so so sorry,” She continued, her words disappearing into your hair. 

She didn’t expect a verbal response from you. She didn’t need a verbal response. 

She held you tighter though, smiling when she felt your heart rate slow against her, knowing that at least she was settling you instead of upsetting you tonight. 

You closed your eyes and breathed in her scent, nearly as strong in the dreams as it was in real life. 

“Love you Linds, always,” You mumbled against her, not looking up to see her reaction. 

She stilled beneath you, waiting for your breathing to completely even out before she pressed her lips to the crown of your head. 

“I love you too,” 

Always.

*****

It was scary how exhaustion and pain were becoming an everyday part of your life. How you were used to the stabbing sensation in your chest, and the tingles that sprouted from it. How you were used to the little anvils behind your eyelids. How you were used to fighting your instincts to curl up and hide away. 

By the time you made it to the hotel in Kansas City, you were losing that fight. You felt so heavy, exhaustion hitting you so bone-deep it was integrated into your very being. 

It only took one look at you by the trainers and they were agreeing that a nap in your room was much needed. They let you grab a lunch plate and head up with little question. Kelley and Emily hadn’t bothered you either, only putting the tv on low while you dozed. 

By dinner time, you felt ready to face the team. Well, as ready as you were going to get. 

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into the hallway and saw Lindsey already waiting, seated beside your door, kicking yourself for not getting dressed fast enough to walk down with Kelley and Emily. 

You hoped that this didn’t become a new normal for her. You were too tired to try and avoid her or to confront her head-on. 

“Hey,” She said, scrambling to a standing position.

You tilted your head in acknowledgment, stepping past her and clicking the elevator button. 

It felt eerily similar to the last time the two of you had spoken in person. Except this time she followed you into the elevator. 

“So silent treatment?” She asked mostly to herself as the doors slid shut, trapping the two of you together. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. You had nothing against talking to Lindsey, you were just so exhausted. 

You knew that you should bring up the shared dream, and the words that she had whispered when she thought you couldn’t hear. You knew you should thank her for comforting you when you had no right to ask for it. 

But what else was there to say? You had said it was only for the night, and you were damned and determined to keep that. She deserved for you to let her be happy, even if it wasn’t with you. 

You were too… raw to hear her say it though. Too raw for her to tell you again that she was going to choose him. That her comforting you had indeed been only for the night. Plus, it didn’t matter what she said while the two of you were alone. You knew the minute you were back with your friends, things would go back to the way they were before the dream, so believing her now would only… hurt more. 

Your chest already ached at the thought. 

Stifling silence was better than being rejected again. 

Lindsey sighed heavily from beside you, placing a heavy hand on your arm, forcing you to look at her. “Look, I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said, All of it,”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way goosebumps erupted across your arm where her skin touched yours. 

You had meant everything that you said too, no matter how much you loathe to admit it, but you were sure Lindsey already knew that. She was by no means blind to how wrapped around her fingers you were. 

She had known that you loved her since you were both barely adults. She had known since the first time the two of you… 

It didn’t matter what she knew. It didn’t matter what she said. She had said it all before, hadn’t she? And you didn’t want to pretend anymore. You were too tired for games. 

You nodded toward her, unwilling to argue. Her eyes tightened, and you could tell that she wanted to say more. 

But you didn’t want to hear it. She could say whatever she wanted, but people’s emotions didn’t change overnight. A dream wasn’t some magical Band-Aid that would fix everything that was broken. Especially when you were the one to say the truce was only for the night. 

Her mouth opened, but the elevator ding interrupted her before she could speak. Before she had the chance to crack the already broken shell you had built around yourself. 

You stared at her for a long moment, frozen in time, trapped in the deep pools of her sorry eyes, before you ripped your arm away from her and darted out of the elevator. 

You were moving so fast, looking behind you that you didn't see his tall, solid form until you were crashing into him. Her arms caught your shoulders as he steadied you.  

“Whoa, easy,” He chuckled. Liquid fire raced from your heart, out to the points he had touched, an unnerving numbing chasing after it. You pulled away from him like you had been burned. 

Your head whipped between him and Lindsey as you stumbled backward. Just as you thought, she only cared for you when no one was watching. 

You had been right not to trust her. 

*****

Pain was slowly becoming your close companion, the low ache in your chest and sludge in your stomach unwelcome friends that refused to leave your company. You closed your eyes tightly, pressing your face further into the cool cloth of the dining table. 

Emily and Kelley's warm hands did little to ease the throbbing emanating from the dark mark on your chest. 

“What is he even doing here?” You groaned into the white cloth, your eyes closed tightly leaning back into the soothing touch of your friends. It did little to help you, but you appreciated the effort. 

You didn’t want to deal with the situation. With him. You had thought about what you would do if you ever met him. If you were ever forced to be in the same room as him, and none of those options seemed viable. 

You were too exhausted, too pained to tell him what you thought of him. You cared for Lindsey too much to expose that she had lied to him, and it hurt too much to pretend like you were fine. 

“It’s her 100 cap celebration,” Kelley supplied, sounding equally as annoyed as you felt. Her finger lightly grazed the angry black line that extended over your shoulder. You doubted that your kit top would cover it, and you worried that the commentators would draw more attention. That after the game you would be flooded with comments from fans who didn’t understand and media outlets who wanted to profit off of your pain. 

They didn’t understand that it was excruciating being forced to watch your soulmate galavant with her boyfriend. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up, but It still made you want to vomit. 

“I didn’t think they were still talking. I thought she told him,” Emily mumbled, rubbing your back again as a form of apology. “She hasn’t been taking his calls since you left,” 

You forced yourself upright, shrugging off the hand and grabbing your fork. You angrily stabbed at your fruit. 

You hated that Emily had been caught between the two of you. It had acid pooling in your throat and made the throb moving up your shoulder pulse. Your pain should not be shared by your friends, and yet-

You shook your head, bringing the fruit to your lips. 

You felt dirty. Emily had agreed to help Lindsey and now the midfielder was flaunting her relationship in front of you all. 

“None of this is your fault,” You mumbled, chewing slowly. “It’s on her. She told me she loved me and now…-”

You shook your head again. You didn’t want an apology from Emily or Kelley. You didn’t even want one from Lindsey. You just wanted to be done. To run away and never come back. For it all to just… stop.

“There’s a difference between loving someone and being in love,” Kelley said softly, gently, like you were a fragile thing she was afraid to break. 

You hummed. You knew that. It was just part of you… a small part… wanted to believe that she could love you. That eventually, she would choose to love you. It was that small hope that kept the soul-sucking ache at bay. That had helped you force your way through your visit with your family and all of their unwanted commentary. 

“I just…” You trailed off, unsure of what you were even going to say. Your family had sapped all of your emotional energy, and this. Well, this just took whatever little you had left. “I don’t even know,” 

Maybe you would run off to Australia this time, where no one would ever think to look for you and your path would never cross with your soulmate. Not even during dreams. 

You took another bite of your fruit. 

“Hey guys,” Lindsey smiled hesitantly, approaching the table and pausing beside the two empty chairs across from you. It drew the attention (and glares) of the entire table to her. 

Your eyes were on her instantly. On the way his hand cupped the small of her back protectively and how she leaned back into him. 

The knife in your chest twisted and the sludge sloshed. You did not doubt that the mark above your heart would grow. It always did when she rejected you. 

You missed the greetings your friends sent their way, adding in your silent nod when Emily nudged you. 

At least Ty pulled her chair out for her as they sat across from you. 

You stared at him with a sort of masochistic curiosity, trying to see what she saw. 

He leaned forward in his chair, reminding you of a giddy child, his dimples showing. “You all ready for South Korea?”

Maybe she liked the way his dirt-colored eyes glinted with excitement. Or the way his head bobbed when he talked. 

It made your stomach roll again, ripping away the little appetite you had. 

You cleared your throat, pushing your plate away and standing. Your chair screeched against the floor. “No, I need to go get my stuff together,” 

You grabbed the still full plate, ignoring Emily and Kelley’s worried glances and Lindsey’s concerned eyes as you turned on your heel and headed for the door. 

You didn’t want or need Lindsey’s concern because clearly, she didn’t care enough. 

“So maybe I shouldn’t place too many bets on a high score line,” Ty chuckled, seemingly oblivious to your abrupt departure, or the awkward silence that had settled over the table. He glanced down at his plate, his smile only getting wider. “Ah shit, I forgot silverware,” he kissed Lindsey’s cheek and stood, his hand lingering on her shoulder as he headed back towards the food table. “Brb babe,” 

She sent him a half smile back and then turned back to the unimpressed looks from her friends. 

“You’re really something,” Kelley muttered around her glass. “But you already knew that,”

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed and she watched the defender carefully. “What?”

Kelley shook her head, her lips pursing as if she was thinking too hard about what she was going to say next. “You’re going to kill her, and you don’t even care,” 

Lindsey’s frown deepened, a crease forming on her forehead. She was killing you? She knew you were in pain but… killing?

She couldn’t wrap her head around it. “What?” 

The words felt dumb falling from her lips and she felt dumb for uttering them. 

“You’re going to kill her,” Kelley repeated, her teeth gritting, even as Emily’s hand landed on her thigh. A warning to keep her from saying more. The older defender took a long breath. “And I wished you gave a fuck. It would feel more fair if you pretended to give a fuck,” 

“I do give a fuck,” Lindsey hissed back, unable to stop the red that flooded her cheeks or the unwanted shiver that ran down her spine. 

She cared about you far more than she wanted to admit. She cared so much that it hurt. It made the spot in her chest right above her heart ache and burn. It was a sting she couldn’t even properly put into words. 

Kelley’s glass hit the table with more force than she meant for it to, and Emily’s hand tightened on her thigh. 

“I can’t be on your side when you do things like this,” Emily said, disappointment dripping from her voice. 

“For the record, I was never on your side,” Kelley interrupted her lip curling. 

“We talked about this,” Emily continued as if Kelley hadn’t spoken. “And this isn’t-“

“I’m trying, alright,” Lindsey bit out, interrupting the blonde defender. “I thought he would get the message,” 

She had been ignoring him for weeks. She didn’t invite him, but suddenly he was here. 

Kelley snorted, crossing her arms. “And now he’s here,” 

The older defender shook her head. She could still feel the black vein on your neck pulsing beneath her fingers like a dark promise. A siren of what was to come. A warning light that hadn’t been there before you had come face to face with him.

Emily’s fingers tightened on her. She wasn’t supposed to fight with Lindsey. She wasn’t supposed to get involved, she had promised you she wouldn’t but… she couldn’t just sit and watch. 

Not while you were so insistent on ripping yourself apart to keep the truth from Lindsey. 

Emily sighed, running the hand not holding Kelley through her hair. She knew she needed to pick her words carefully. 

“You know how to be a good human Lindsey,” She said slowly, pushing herself to stand. You shouldn’t be left to your own devices for long. “and you’re running out of time,”

She sent the midfielder a meaningful look before turning on her heel and heading off to find you. 

Kelley watched her leave, also pushing herself to stand. 

She paused, tapping her knuckle on the table and looking directly into Lindsey’s burning blue eyes. “You need to make the right choice,” 

She didn’t wait for Lindsey to reply before she too left the table, only taking a second to send Ty a glare as he reappeared at the table before heading out the door. 

Lindsey could only watch her, slightly stunned. Her hand idly came up to rub the spot right above her heart that never stopped aching. 

“Everything alright?” Ty asked, his hand landing heavily on her shoulder. Her eyes snapped to meet his. It burned where he touched her. It made the ice prickle in her veins. It felt… wrong. 

He looked concerned for her. He cared about something that he didn’t understand because he cared for her. It made the acid in her stomach bubble. 

He slid into the seat beside her, wrapping his arm more tightly around her. 

“Everything's fine,” She muttered, leaning into him, frowning when his warmth did nothing to soothe the prickling in her veins or the pain in her chest. 

He squeezed her shoulder. “You sure?” 

She sent him a very tight smile and a short nod. “Everything is wonderful,” 

He mirrored her, kissing her forehead and returning to his meal. 

His lips burned, and all she could feel was the impression of yours. How many times had you kissed her forehead after an intimate moment or comforted her when things looked bad? How many times had you wrapped your arm around her so she could snuggle into your chest? 

It made the pit in her stomach deepen, and she had no idea how she could stop it. 

*****

You didn’t think yourself to be a superstitious person, but you liked to keep your pre-game ritual similar. You liked your process. It helped you get your head in the right space, and you desperately needed something that would let you focus on anything other than Lindsey and her boyfriend. 

Your hands shook as you wrapped your red pre-wrap around your wrist, counting each pass in your head. 

It was something you had done since the middle of your run with PSG in France. A tradition that fans talked about online, but no one ever asked about it directly. 

For that you were thankful. 

The only person who understood was Lindsey. She had seen the lines that littered the inside of your wrists and arms. The lines that had been a physical manifestation of your pain. Habits that you had relied on off and on since your time in France. Once you had only given up after Emily made you promise. After she saved you from Florida. 

A part of you wished she hadn’t saved you. 

The coral had felt good digging into your back, slicing you open like cheese on a grater as the ocean waves had their way with you. It felt good to give up control. To just be. You remembered the moment that your foot tether got caught on the rocks. How you hadn’t panicked. How you felt almost… relieved.  How you stopped trying to reach for the diving knife you always kept on you or the velcro still around your ankle.  

You could still feel the burn of the salty ocean water as it fought its way past your lips, how it stung your nose and throat as you finally let go. You could still see the last bubble that escaped your lungs as the water rushed in and the diver's wide eyes as she cut you free just seconds before it was too late. 

Your oxygen-deprived brain had been convinced it was Lindsey coming to save you. That you weren’t nothing to her. 

And then you had woken up to bright lights and beeping machines. 

A hand covered your own, catching the athletic tape slipping through your fingers before it could fall to the ground. Your eyes snapped up to meet its owner, softening at Sofia’s shy smile. 

“Want some help?”

She gestured towards your arms, shaking the tape in her hand. 

Your eyes followed it, and you sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. 

The only person who had ever helped you with your tape was Lindsey. 

It was frustrating how intertwined you were with her, even when she didn’t want you. How you had shared so much of your life with her while she shared hers with him. 

“Or I can get Kelley or Emily,” Sofia said quickly, misinterpreting your hesitation. “You just look like you shouldn’t be alone,” 

“No, I,” You shook your head. The words were caught in your throat. Trapped there by an invisible ocean of rushing water surging into your lungs. 

You missed Huerta's gesture towards Kelley behind your shoulder or the way several of your teammates were looking at you with worried eyes. 

You only noticed when a warm, familiar hand landed on your shoulder, a thumb brushing the little black vein creeping up your neck. 

“Hey, Y/n take some deep breaths,” She said, very close to your ear, trying to keep her voice soft and calming. “Em will be back here in a few minutes. She just had to talk to the staff about her jersey,” 

You shook your head. “I’m ok Kell,”

She raised her eyebrow at you, unimpressed, and her fingers pressed into the little black vein just above your elbow as Huerta began to do your wrap. “You aren’t, and we both know it,”

You were pretty sure the entire team knew by this point, especially if the pitying looks Alex and Megan were sending your way were anything to go off of. It wasn’t like you were doing a good job of hiding it. 

You had never been good at pretending and you were just so tired. 

“I just need to make it through pre-game, and I’ll be fine,” You said too quickly. The field had always been your safe space, the game the only place where you felt free. If you could just make it there, then maybe you could postpone the inevitable. Maybe it would give you enough time not thinking for you to pull yourself together. 

Kelley let out a long sigh, her fingers squeezing your shoulder. “And then what?”

“I’ll play the game,” You answered automatically, robotically. 

“Then what happens after the game?” Kelley pressed, just as Sofia let go of your wrist and caught your other arm. 

You instantly ran it through your hair, closing your eyes tightly. “I haven’t really thought that far,” 

Sofia tried to keep her eyes on your arm, tried not to look towards the little sliver of skin that appeared when you shifted again and tried not to notice the angry black lines just barely visible below the hem of your jersey. 

She swallowed hard, focusing too much on finishing the wrap on your arm. 

She knew where marks like that came from, the entire team did. She knew that if she asked you about it, it would likely push you over the edge, the one you were already teetering on. 

“Pretending that it doesn’t exist won't make it disappear,” Kelley murmured, her thumb squeezing the place between your shoulder and neck, trying to alleviate the tension she felt there. 

You shrugged off her hand, catching the tape from Sofia’s grasp as she made the last turn around your wrist. “What other choice do I have?” 

Your voice was cold and thin. Like taking a step on a lake that was barely frozen over. It held a danger Sofia didn't necessarily understand beneath the surface, but it was enough. 

She cleared her throat, blinking up at you as she tore the tape roll from the piece secured to your arm, ignoring the glares burning into the side of her face from across the room. 

“I think you always have a choice,” She mumbled, pushing herself to stand. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Soph,” Kelley said gently, trying to cut the defender off. 

Sofia shook her head. “No. It’s true. We always have a choice,” 

A very small smile cracked across your features at her insistence. At her innocence. You very gently squeezed Kelley. Telling her that it was ok. “The problem is, someone else got to make it for me,” 

Sofia frowned her eyes darting over your shoulder, and you opened your mouth to continue. To try and explain the mess of a situation you found yourself in. How the only choice you had was to suffer for her. 

But you didn’t have to. She took a step forward, catching your hand. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve got the youngins and me behind you. No matter what,” 

You nodded once, swallowing the lump suddenly caught in your throat. 

She squeezed your arm for a long second before moving past you. 

You watched her go, your eyes trailing over her form and towards Lindsey who was shooting daggers your way. 

Kelley’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “it’s not just the youngins,” She said, sending a glare back toward Lindsey. “You’ve got the entire locker room behind you,”

You shrugged her off, ducking your head away from Lindsey’s burning eyes and moving back towards your locker. “I don’t need anyone to fight. That’s not fair to her,” 

You didn’t even notice how your hand instinctively came up to rub at the ever-present twinge in your chest. 

“And none of this is fair to you,” Kelley said sternly, her eyes never leaving Lindsey’s. 

You sighed. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate Kelley’s protectiveness, it was just that you were so tired, and she was making your plan to ignore the ache in your chest even more difficult than it already was. You didn’t need any more reasons to fall apart, not when you were already struggling to hold the frayed ends of yourself together. 

You just needed to make it through the game, and then you could disappear to Antarctica to die in peace. 

“Can we just… not?” You muttered, finally letting your exhaustion peek through the cracks in your voice. Kelley’s head snapped towards the sound, and a little part of you instantly hated the vulnerability leaking through your shell. “I just need to get through this game,” 

She blew out a long breath of her own, and you knew she wanted to argue. To say that pushing it all down wouldn’t do anyone any good, but she didn't. She nodded once, “Yeah, we can just not,” 

******

The game against Korea was… frustrating. More frustrating than you had expected it to be. 

You just couldn’t seem to get your head in the game, which was strange because the only part of your life that wasn’t falling apart was the pitch. 

Everything just felt off. You couldn’t connect with Lindsey and all 12 of your shots had either pinged off the crossbar or landed safely in the keeper's waiting hands. 

It was infuriating, and as the minutes slowly ticked by, you could feel yourself getting more and more worked up. Your passes to Alex and Mal were wide, your collection of balls from Sofia was increasingly sloppy and any chance you had at that point was shit. You could feel yourself giving in to your inner turmoil. Giving in more and more to the building pressure and Vlatko’s unhelpful demands. 

It was pathetic and you couldn’t help but despise yourself. 

By the time the final whistle blew, you were just done. More done than you could ever remember being. 

You always sought to find your limit. To push yourself until you couldn’t push yourself anymore. You always claimed you hadn’t found the edge yet. 

But here you were, teetering on the wrong side of it. 

You hoped maybe a shower would tether you to reality. That the hot water would be a welcome solace. That it would be the balm to the burning ache that settled heavily in your chest. 

You hoped that the universe would give you a fucking break for once. 

But of course, it couldn’t. 

You barely paid attention to the fans as you quickly finished your mandatory lap around the field, and headed towards the tunnel, ignoring the people calling your name as you slipped inside. 

The sight that met you made you wish you hadn’t. It made you wish you had pretended to be fine for them. 

It made your heart stop. 

The sight of him pressing her into the wall, their lips connected. Of his hands heavy on her hips, and her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of his neck. Of his thigh working its way between her legs and the way she leaned into the feeling. 

It made your chest bubble and your stomach churn, but you couldn’t force yourself to look away. 

You were just… frozen. 

You were stuck, wondering if it had looked the same way when you kissed her. If she had melted against you like she melted for him. If the two of you fit as seamlessly as they did. If her head tilted the same way, trying to get a better angle. If she enjoyed his kisses as much as she enjoyed yours. 

You could almost imagine her mouth against yours. The passion and love that you could always feel when she kissed you. How it filled you from the tips of your toes to the very top of your ears. It was another part of her that was imprinted on your soul. 

It was like watching a trainwreck, and you reveled in the morbid curiosity. In the knife twisting in your chest, slicing through your already torn heart with little care. 

She was kissing him where everyone could see them. Where a camera could spot them down the tunnel. Where the cheering of fans had just barely dulled.

It struck you like the wrong note on a guitar. 

She was proud to be his. 

She was never proud to be yours. Hell, she was never even yours. She was ashamed of you, and she kept you hidden like a dirty little secret. 

It was pathetic that you couldn’t see it until now. That you had been too stubborn to accept that she would never want you. Not when she had him. 

You were pathetic. Unwanted. Completely unlovable. 

The realization was like a grenade exploding in your chest, blowing apart the little pieces of your heart that were left.

“Come on,” 

Warm hands were suddenly on your shoulder, and a voice was very close to your ears, but you barely heard it over the roaring in your head or the pounding of your heart. 

The hands urged you forward, towards the locker room and away from the scene. It felt like you were underwater, the halls passing too slowly and too quickly all at the same time. The lines of the concrete walls blurred together. Your stomach rolled just as the locker room door swung open, and you were pushed into a seat. 

“I can't fucking believe her,” Emily hissed, slamming the door carelessly behind her. 

Kelley sighed, settling down beside you and catching your hand. “I can,” 

You hadn’t even realized your nails were digging into your chest, clawing at your racing heart, trying to get to the burning ice it was pushing through your veins.  Your stomach bubbled, and you could feel the bile climbing to the back of your throat. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” 

The words barely left your lips before a trash can was pressed into your chest. 

Kelley rubbed your back as you heaved, emptying what little was in your stomach into the trash can. “Let it out, kid,” 

You grimaced, pulling away when you were finished, accepting a towel from Emily as she took the trash can. You wiped your mouth, ignoring the pity radiating from her. 

You didn’t want her pity. You didn’t want anyone’s pity. You wanted to disappear. To… never have existed, to begin with. 

Emily blew out a long breath, settling beside you, her head resting in her palms. “She just… I thought she was sorry. I thought…”

“It’s not your fault,” You croaked, shaking your head. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own. If you weren’t so weak then maybe Lindsey would think you were worthy of her. 

“No. This is all on Lindsey,” Alex said, her voice edging on exasperation. “I don’t know what the fuck she was thinking,” 

You blinked up at them, realizing for the first time that your other teammates had followed you, Emily, and Kelley, back. That you weren’t alone. 

It was like a switch flipped in your head. Like the volume of a radio getting turned up to 11. The voices of your teammates blurred together around you in an indignant symphony of too much sound.

 You couldn’t handle it. You didn’t have enough emotional fortitude to deal with this. Not in a way that wouldn’t upset them. 

Your fingers dug into your temples. You didn’t want them to be involved. 

“Stop,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.   

The room froze in response, their pitying gazes sinking into your form. 

You didn’t want their pity either. 

You cleared your throat, trying to push through the croakiness. “I’m too tired to deal with this shit. I just-“ 

The words died on your lips as the locker room door swung open, and Lindsey stepped into the room. 

Everyone's attention snapped to her, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes dragged down her form. You couldn’t help how you traced the flyaway hairs pulled from her tight ponytail, the slight swelling of her lips, or the way her jersey was slightly bunched just above her waist. It was evidence. The final nails in an already closed coffin. 

You cleared your throat again, tearing your eyes away from her and examining your still cleat-covered foot, ignoring the suffocating tension that had built in the room. “I think I’m just gonna go to the bus and catch a nap. I’ll shower when we get back to the hotel,” 

The words sounded robotic as they left your lips, scratchy in a way that your voice rarely was, almost like someone else was saying them. 

They hung in the air for a long minute as you gathered the strength to push yourself to your feet. 

“Oh,” Lindsey breathed out, but you ignored it, focusing instead on trying to keep your legs from wobbling as you shoved yourself up. 

“I’ll come with you,” Kelley said, mirroring your move stand and casually wrapping an arm around your waist, steadying you.  “I’m tired too. A nap might be good,” 

A part of you wanted to be annoyed with the defender, but the larger, exhausted part of you was grateful for her protectiveness. 

You leaned into her, letting her care and safety wrap around you, as she guided you out of the room. 

You knew she couldn’t shield you for forever, but you would take any moment of peace that you could get. 

*****

Lindsey stood frozen as you brushed past her, Kelley’s glare daring her to try and stop you.

It filled her with a feeling she didn’t quite understand. 

She could feel the angry gazes of her teammates as she trudged back to her locker. They were like sites on a gun, and she was waiting for whatever bullet they wanted to send. 

“Do I have something on my face?” She asked toward no one in particular as she pulled off her boots and socks. “Or are we starting a new trend where we stare as people undress,” 

“Kelley’s right,” Sofia said, her voice breaking through the murmurs spreading around the locker room. “You’re fuck-“

“No,” Emily interrupted the young defender, with a small shake of her head, looking more tired than Lindsey had ever seen her. “Y/n doesn’t want us to fight,” 

“Let her finish Em,” Lindsey spat back, annoyed even if she didn’t have a right to be. Even if she was in the wrong. Being angry was easier than facing the truth. “Get it off your chest. What is Kelley right about?” 

“That it would feel more fair if you pretended to give a fuck,” Emily said softly before Sofia could answer, and Emily saw recognition in the other defender's eyes.

It was the least inflammatory thing Kelley had said. The only thing that didn’t indicate malicious intent in Lindsey’s actions. The only true thing that hopefully wouldn’t cause Lindsey to dig her heels in more. 

They weren’t sure how much more digging you could take. 

“I do give a fuck,” Lindsey hissed, accentuating the irritation she felt at the jab. 

Sofia scoffed. “Yes, because kissing your boyfriend just feet from the edge of the tunnel you knew your soulmate was going to walk down is totally giving a fuck,” 

Lindsey finally looked up at the young defender, meeting her burning glare. 

Her lip curled at the implication. “That wasn’t planned,” 

“And you were trying your hardest to stop it weren’t you?” Sofia bit back sarcastically, ignoring Emily’s hand on her arm. The warning to slow down.  “That’s why you were pulling him closer to you instead of pushing him away,” 

Lindsey's eyebrows furrowed. She hadn’t been expecting the venom in those words. The disdain. Maybe from Kelley, or even Alex, Tobin, and Christen, sure. She expected the vets to be upset because they understood the history she had with you. 

She never expected someone new to the team to butt into an already complicated situation. One they clearly didn’t understand. 

“What the fuck is your problem,” Lindsey bit back, squinting at the defender. “I don’t know why you think you have the right to comment-“ 

“Because no one else will,” Sofia growled. “We’re watching Y/n destroy herself and no one will say anything because she cares too much about you to let us. Someone needs to care about her, and it certainly isn’t you,” 

“Soph,” Emily attempted to interrupt her, to cut off the building anger crackling off of Lindsey’s form, and to stop Sofia from saying something that you didn’t want Lindsey to know. 

“No. Don’t Soph me. She needs to know!” The defender bellowed, her chest heaving as she finally ripped her eyes away from Lindsey. “Fuck whatever convoluted chivalrous act Y/n wants to pretend she’s committing. You’ve seen the-“

“That’s enough.” Emily snapped, authority filling her voice, silencing Huerta before she could finish her sentence. 

Huerta met her eyes, and an unspoken conversation passed between them. 

Lindsey’s eyes widened at the sentence. What had Emily seen that she hadn’t? She knew you were in pain, that was obvious, but was there something that she wasn’t seeing? 

She needed to know. 

“No, let her continue since she thinks she knows Y/n so well,” Lindsey said, purposefully raising her eyebrow. Trying to get a reaction. “It’s been what, 2 months since you’ve met her?” 

Emily’s blue eyes darted back to her. “Enough,” The defender said, gesturing for Sofia towards the bathroom. “Go take your shower. Vlatko wants you for media,” 

Sofia frowned. “But,”

Emily shook her head. “Go,” 

Sofia swallowed hard, but nodded, angrily grabbing her change of clothing and doing as she was told. 

Both blondes watched as Sofia left, and a charged silence stretched between them. 

You had asked Emily not to get involved. You told her you didn’t want her in the middle. 

That didn’t mean she wasn’t. 

“I told you to be a good human. I told you to have a hard conversation,” Emily said softly, turning back to her own locker, but no one mistook exactly who she was addressing. “Instead you chose to flaunt him in front of her,” 

“Like she wasn’t flaunting whatever is going on with her and Sofia,” Lindsey scoffed before she could stop herself. Just saying the words out loud had a strange ache forming just above her heart. One that had nothing to do with the jealousy that bubbled in her stomach any time she saw the attention you gave the defender. 

Especially when she was on her knees, wrapping your arms before the game. 

Emily paused, gripping her sweatshirt and turning back towards her best friend, an incredulous look plastered across her features. “Do you even fucking hear yourself? You still think this is a game, don’t you?”

Lindsey didn’t answer, instead choosing to pick at a hangnail on her thumb. She didn’t think it was a game, but if you were going to ignore her and Ty wasn’t, then maybe she hadn’t seen the harm. Maybe she wanted you to feel the jealousy bubbling in her veins. 

Maybe she hadn’t thought it through. 

Emily shook her head. “I’m not even sure it matters. I think you’re out of time,” 

She didn’t add that she wasn’t on Lindsey’s side anymore either as she exited the room and that she was pretty sure most of their team echoed her sentiment. 

*****

Your fingers dug into the marble countertop of the hotel bathroom, your nails scraping at the surface like they would keep you from falling over the edge. Like the pressure would stop the anvil on your chest from caving your sternum in.

Water pooled on the surface and the floor below you, still dripping from the shower. 

You understood why Kelley had been reluctant to leave you while the team went to dinner, but you promised you just wanted a shower. You just wanted to sleep when Lindsey couldn’t follow you. 

You dragged your eyes from the gold-plated faucet to the mirror. You paused at the angry back web that began just above the towel around your waist. The pulsing lines that now covered your stomach, tracing back to a solid black circle the size of a baseball right over your heart, continued over your shoulder and down your left arm, nearly past your elbow. 

The dark marks were accented by the deep red of your skin, abused by the too-hot water in the shower and your incessant scrubbing. 

An Ill thought attempt to remove her mark on you. To get rid of the traces she had left. 

Pathetic 

You sneered the words in your head, forcing your eyes up the column of your throat and meeting them in the mirror. 

They reminded you of a shark's eyes. Cold and unfeeling. Completely soulless. 

That was how this would all end, wasn’t it? 

The dark mark was just a representation of the punishment the universe was inflicting on you. That Lindsey was inflicting on you for being unworthy after all. 

You would lose everything that you were. It would be taken from you, piece by piece until all that was left was a shell only capable of feeling pain and misery. 

You once thought that feeling nothing would be worse, but now it was all you longed for to be removed from your emotions. To not feel the pain and agony that had become your closest allies. 

You tighten your grip on the counter, hoping it could help steady the building storm in your chest. 

You deserved the pain. 

Your mother had been telling you since you could walk, but you were just too afraid to listen. 

You were weak. Worthless. Unlovable. 

It was almost funny how it was her voice cackling in your head. 

You shouldn’t have been shocked. Why would Lindsey choose you over him? She wouldn’t.

She didn’t. 

You were nothing compared to him. You were nothing at all.  

Lindsey had said so herself the night of your World Cup win, as she shoved your lips off of her neck and kicked you out of the closet the two of you were sharing. She told you it was a mistake. Meaningless. 

Weak. Worthless. Unlovable. Nothing. 

Lindsey’s voice joined your mother’s, repeating the words in your head over and over. 

And you blinked up at yourself in the mirror, realizing that your hands had moved to clutch at your ears. To stop the word’s running around your brain. 

Your face morphed in the mirror, your mother's sneer replacing your features. 

No one would ever want you. You were weak. Worthless. Unlovable. 

Nothing. 

You felt the walls of the room closing in on you, your mothers cackling laugh echoing through your head so loudly it was shaking the room. Shaking the mirror. 

You needed everything to stop moving. 

Weak. Worthless. Unlovable. Nothing. 

You needed it to stop. 

The mirror cracked before your eyes, the pain radiating through your hand only after the tremendous crash drowned out their voices. 

It didn’t hurt though. It felt good. But it wasn’t enough. 

Your fist collided with the glass again, and again and again. Intent on obliterating the face staring back at you. Intent on destroying your face. 

Piece by piece your reflection collapsed, leaving only glittering shards in its place. 

You were only satisfied when your entire form disappeared and just a blank white and red wall was left. 

You blew out a shuddering breath, stumbling backward and sliding down the wall until you were leaning against the tub, uncaring of the glass pieces prickling at your bare skin. 

At least you were feeling something other than your internal pain. At least it was tangible. 

You picked up one of the larger shards, catching a blue eye in its reflection. 

You were just a mistake. We are nothing. You are nothing. 

Lindsey’s words echoed around your brain, pricking at your veins, and your hand unintentionally tightened around the shard. 

Why did you think she would pick you? 

You were weak. Worthless. Unlovable. Nothing. 

*******

Kelley knew that they should not have left you after the game. 

She knew that it was a very bad idea, despite your insistence that you were just going to take a shower and maybe watch some television while they got dinner with the team. 

She trusted that you were stable enough to do that. But She could just feel that something bad was going to happen. It was like a snake slithering through her ribs and settling deep in her bones. 

As she stepped into your shared hotel room, she knew trusting you had been a very bad idea. 

Very, very, very bad.

Her breath caught as she stepped into the hotel room, the open bathroom door immediately caught her attention. Her eyes were drawn to your stoic form, sitting in a towel, propped up against the tub. A sea of glass surrounded you, glinting off the harsh fluorescent lights speckled with little flecks of red. Like islands dotted around the ocean. 

But the thing that made her stomach curl was the dark mark on your torso. The epicenter was right at the center of your chest with tentacle-like veins stretching across your abs and shoulder, twisting along your neck and arm, pulsing with bubbling black sludge in time with your heart. 

It reminded Kelley of a murder scene from one of the old horror movies Emily liked to watch. Like a horrifically poetic monstrosity of modern art. 

“Holy fuck,” Emily breathed out right next to Kelley’s left ear. 

She knew you could be self-destructive, but she hadn’t expected this… maybe she should have. 

You didn’t move at the sound. You didn’t even look over at them. You just looked… blank and it sent an unpleasant shiver down Emily’s spine. 

She hadn’t seen that look on your face since Florida. 

“Go get her some clothes, I’m going to try to get her out of here,” Kelley sighed. 

You couldn’t stay in a bloody towel especially if you had cut yourself worse than the scratches Kelley could already see, and you couldn’t exactly walk out with all the glass on the floor. 

“Yeah,” Emily nodded, squeezing Kelley’s hips before moving around her and further into the hotel room. 

Kelley took a long steadying breath, stepped forward, her shoes crunching in the shattered glass, and squatted so she was at eye level with you. 

“Hey, Y/n,” She said gently, “How about we get you out of there? Ok?” 

You blinked listlessly at her, your head lolling to the side in what Kelley assumed was an acknowledgment. 

She took another shaky breath, again tracing down the black vein curing around your neck and down your arm. Besides the dark marks, your chest and torso appeared to be alright. So did your right hand, but your left… 

Your knuckles were stained red, dripping maroon droplets to your fingertips, pooling on the ground just beside your hip. 

“Y/n,” She tried again. Your hand shifted slightly in return, and that’s when she caught the glint of the glass shard in your palm. 

“Hey, sweetie, can you put the glass down for me please?” She asked, swallowing hard to hide the panic threatening to overtake her. She had to be calm for you. 

You blinked again, your hand shifting slightly, almost like you couldn’t process her words. Kelley tilted her head, catching your empty eyes. 

“Y/n,” Kelley said more sternly, hoping to break through whatever stoic wall you had put in place. “Drop the mirror,” 

Silence stretched between you for a long minute, before your fingers unwound from the shard in your hand. It hit the floor with a low tink, splashing in the liquid beside you. Still, Kelley felt the knot in her chest unwind just a little now that the immediate threat was gone. 

“Let’s get you up, ok?” She asked, extending a hand to you. “And dressed,” 

“The mirror broke,” You croaked out in response, and Kelley frowned. 

“I can see that,” She sighed, wiggling her fingers towards you. “let’s get you out of here, and we can call maintenance to take care of it,” 

You stared at the outstretched appendage for a long second, as though you were afraid of it before you slowly nodded. 

“I’m going to lift you,” she said gently, waiting for you to slowly nod again before she scooped you up and carefully carried you out of the bathroom. 

Emily smiled tightly at you as Kelley set you on your feet in front of their bed. Together they ran a towel down your legs to remove any extra glass and helped you into your sweats and t-shirt. 

You blew out a long breath when they were finished, settling on the end of the bed and allowing Kelley to guide your hand into her lap. Emily took your other side, idly rubbing your back as you both watched Kelley carefully began to examine the mangled flesh of your hand. 

She was methodical as she used a warm washcloth to compress your hand, moving it only to catch little peeks at the gashes in your knuckles and the slice right at the center of your palm. 

You flexed your fingers when she pressed just a bit too tightly, hissing in pain. 

Both defenders shared a long look. This wasn’t something they could patch up themselves, not when you were still actively bleeding. 

“We’re going to have to take you to Dawn,” Kelley said seriously, dabbing another bit of glass from the back of your hand, red oozing out after it. “I think you need stitches,” 

You nodded solemnly, unwilling to fight. 

There was nothing for you to fight for anyway. 

Kelley and Emily shared another worried look. They didn’t like how quiet you were. How still you were. It was somehow worse than when you were vocal about the pain you were in. 

It made them wonder about why the mirror had broken, and your intention behind it. 

Emily cleared her throat. “Y/n, was this like when you went surfing in Florida?” 

You shook your head, biting your lip. 

This felt very different from Florida. 

“What happened?” Kelley pressed, again peeking at the very deep gash on your palm. 

You squinted, trying to think of how to put it into words. 

Everything had just been too much, and you wanted your brain to stop. You wanted Lindsey to stop. You wanted the pain in your chest to go away and to feel anything other than the weight of your failure. 

“I just wanted it to stop,” You said finally, your voice horse and straining. “I needed it to stop,”

“Alright,” Kelley sighed. “Let’s get you to Dawn so she can clean you up,” 

You nodded once again, letting Kelley and Emily guide you to your feet and towards the door. 

Dawn would be able to help you.

*****

Emily blew out a long, shaky breath, leaning back into Kelley’s chest. Her eyes never left your form, tucked into a hospital bed. 

It had been surprisingly easy to convince you that you needed stitches, especially when Dawn told you that a hospital was your best option. 

You had answered all of her and the doctor's questions with shocking honesty and sat perfectly still as an intern stitched and wrapped the mangled flesh of your hand (but not before Kelley snapped a picture of it and the dark lines curling from your chest). 

“It’s not a permanent solution, but the medication we’ve given her should help for now,” The doctor explained carefully, gesturing towards you in the window. 

Emily hummed in agreement. 

The IV they gave you had the dark veins in your neck and shoulder retreating, leaving thin gray behind. It had the color returning to your eyes, even if they were still dull. It was enough and not nearly enough all at once. 

“How long do you think it’ll last?” Kelley asked very softly. 

The doctor’s shoulders lifted and fell. “It all depends on her soulmate,” 

Kelley nodded in understanding. 

Soulmate sickness was one of the most mysterious illnesses out there. One of the trickiest to stop. The only one that was dependent on another person's actions.

Lindsey’s actions were killing you. 

What was worse was that you were going to let her. 

“Thank you,” The older defender said towards the doctor, and he bid them goodbye. 

Emily let out another long breath. “How did it come to this?” 

She had never imagined that two of her teammates would be in a position like this. That Lindsey would put you in a position like this. 

Not with the history the two of you shared. 

“Well,” Kelley said, dragging out the word. “Lindsey is afraid of god knows what, and Y/n loves her so much she’s willing to let her be happy, even if it kills her,”

Emily made a low sound in the back of her throat. “We shouldn’t have left her alone,” 

Kelley’s arms tightened around her waist, and her nose nudged under Emily’s ear, before she let go, using insistent fingers on Emily’s hips to get her to turn around. 

“I don’t know that we could have stopped her,” Kelley said seriously, making eye contact with Emily’s gray. “I know you tried in Portland, but this is uncharted territory, even for her,” 

Emily’s eyes darted away from her, but Kelley didn’t let her pull away. “Em, you couldn’t have stopped her,” 

Emily nodded slightly. It was just hard. She had been looking out for you since you came to Portland. She was one of the first to know about your… situationship? Friends with benefits arrangement? With Lindsey. She was the first person you told that you had caught feelings. 

She saw the fallout the first time.  

She knew about the little lines that had littered the insides of your thighs. She knew how they had appeared no matter how hard she had tried to stop them.

But this was different. They had no idea how you had broken the mirror, or how long you sat in the mess. Dawn guessed that the wounds had been open for at least an hour and from the amount of blood in the bathroom. They were just lucky you hadn’t dropped the piece of glass until they got there, or tried to pick the smaller pieces out of your skin. 

“I know,” Emily murmured, leaning forward so her forehead touched Kelley’s. “I just hate seeing her like this,”

“I do too,” Kelley agreed softly. 

“What do we do?” Emily asked, her voice cracking. 

“Tobin and Christen are on their way, so we wait until they get here,” Kelley said, pulling back just slightly to peek at your still sleeping form through the window.  “and in the meantime, we do the only thing we can do,” 

She pulled her phone from her back pocket and flicked through her contacts. She found the one she was looking for and typed out a simple text, including 3 pictures. 

Emily’s hand covered the screen, stopping her from hitting the send button. “Is that a good idea?” 

“Do you have a better one?” Kelley asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Emily sighed, shaking her head, and pulling her hand away. 

She didn’t have a better idea. She had no idea how to navigate this situation at all. 

Kelley pressed the button and then tucked her phone away again. 

She turned back towards your sleeping form. “Now, let’s go keep her company,” 

Emily hummed. That was all they could do. Keep you company and keep you together until more experienced hands arrived. 

Hopefully, you didn’t have any more chunks missing by the time they got there. 

You had made it back from the brink of disaster once, now they had to pray you had the will to do it again. 

*****

It was safe to say that this night had not gone at all the way Lindsey had planned, not that she had a brilliant plan to begin with. 

She let out a breath, glancing down at the man beside her. Her eyes traced his bare chest, down his arms to where their fingers were intertwined. 

She didn’t know he was coming. She hadn’t anticipated that he wouldn’t take her ducking and dodging as hints that she didn’t want him to come. 

She also didn’t anticipate your reaction. You barely even looked at her, and it had unexpected jealousy creeping in her veins until she let him kiss her in an effort to get you to finally notice. To have some kind of reaction that wasn’t stoicism. 

The incident in the locker room after should have been expected. Her two worlds had collided and it ended in destruction that even she couldn’t have predicted. 

An unmitigated disaster with you at the epicenter. 

Her disaster. 

She blew out another long breath. 

There was another reason she didn’t push him away, one that was even more difficult for her to acknowledge. Pushing him away would mean admitting that there was something wrong in their relationship. It would raise red flags that she wasn’t ready to face, especially with her parents in town too. 

If they knew… she was sure they would reject her. 

But in the process of protecting herself, she hurt you. She didn’t know exactly how much, but it was enough to send her teammates into a frenzy. 

It was enough to turn the locker room against her, despite your apparent efforts to get them to remain neutral. 

She wasn’t surprised, even she was against herself. She just… didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t even know where to start. 

Well, that was a lie. She did know where to start. Emily told her where to start. She was just too much of a coward to do it. 

It made her hate herself. She didn’t want to hurt you. She never wanted to hurt you. 

Her phone dinged from the bedside table, and she couldn’t resist the urge to grab it, hoping that it was you. 

It wasn’t. 

Still, she swiped Kelley’s notification. She wished she hadn’t. 

It was a sentence she would never forget. 

I think you should see what you’re doing to her.

Below it were three photos. 

The first was of knuckles, torn and jagged. Sliced over and over by a force she didn’t know. The second was a palm cut nearly to the bone, tendons, and muscle peeking from its uneven edges. Both were wet, oozing, fresh. 

But it was the 3rd picture that stole the air from her lungs and set her chest on fire. Bubbling, and burning, in an ache that spread with every beat of her heart. 

It was a zoomed-out photo of the arm and shoulder attached to the mangled hand. Dark tendrils stretched from the elbow, winding around the arm, over the shoulder. It crept up the neck, and towards a pitch-black bruise right above the person's heart. 

You should see what you’re doing to her.

Lindsey shook her head. Right above your heart. 

“Fuck,”

“Wha’,” Ty mumbled, sitting up with bleary eyes, catching a glimpse of the grotesque image on the phone. He grabbed the device, pulling it closer. “Shit, is that one of your teammates?”

Lindsey pressed her lips into a thin line, nodding minutely. If she opened her mouth, she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears from coming out.

She knew what lines like that on a person meant. 

Kelley and Sofia were right. 

She was killing you, and she hadn’t even known it. The bruise on your chest was just an outward manifestation of your decaying soul. Or maybe she knew, but she wasn’t strong or brave enough to stop it. She didn’t give enough of a fuck to stop it before it was too late. 

Emily was right too. She knew how to be a good human, and she had chosen not to. 

“Babe?” Ty asked gently, and it was then she realized that she was shaking. That the low sob echoing through the hotel room was coming from her. 

He dropped the phone and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug just as she fell apart. She buried her face in his chest, gut-wrenching sobs clawed their way from her lips like ripped pieces of her soul and landed against his skin. 

She hadn’t cried through any of this. She didn’t deserve to cry, not when she was the one responsible for your pain. For your suffering. 

“It’s alright, just let it out,” He murmured into her hair, rocking her gently. “I’ve got you,” 

He held her together like a good man… a good person should. 

And it made her feel worse because all she could think about was the feeling of your chest, of your arms wrapped around her. Your perfume in her nose and your hushed whispers reminding her that everything would be ok. 

She couldn’t be that for you. She couldn’t put her own needs aside, even when you were ripping yourself apart. 

Yet, he held her even when she didn’t deserve it. When she deserved for him to throw her away. 

Slowly, her sobs turned into sniffles, and she clung to him for dear life, for the last moments she knew he would let her. 

She couldn’t hide from reality anymore. She couldn’t hurt you anymore. 

“You gonna tell me what this is all about?” He asked softly into her hair, never forcing her out of his chest. 

She sucked in a shuttered breath, pulling herself away, wiping her eyes, and looking anywhere but at him. 

The time had finally come for the important conversation. For the truth. 

“I-“ She gulped around the words caught in her throat. She took another shuddering breath, steeling herself. “I met my soulmate,” 

A pregnant pause stretched between them, only broken when he reached across and gently caught her hand, squeezing once.

It took her another long second to gain the courage to look up and need his brown eyes. The resignation she saw there made her hate herself that much more. 

“How long ago?” The question was soft, and not at all what Lindsey was expecting. 

She bit her lip. “We had the dream almost 4 months ago,” 

A small sad smile pulled at his lips, as he caught her phrasing. “But you’ve known her for a lot longer?” 

Lindsey nodded. 

“We agreed we’d tell each other as soon as it happened,” He said, his voice staying gentle. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lindsey said, suddenly finding their intertwined fingers interesting. 

She didn’t have more of an explanation. Not one that would be sufficient anyway. 

He sighed, running the hand not holding hers through his hair. Of course, he knew they would eventually meet their soulmates, but they had agreed to be open about it when it happened and to make those decisions together. 

That plan also hadn’t included another person in as much pain as Lindsey’s soulmate clearly was. It didn’t include them knowing their soulmate before the dream. 

But Lindsey did know her soulmate. Those photos had come from someone in the team, and he had a feeling he already knew exactly whose arm it was. 

“It’s y/n right?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “How did you…?”

He just chucked, squeezing her hand again.

“It’s the way you two look at each other,” He explained gently, remembering how he noted the closeness Lindsey and you shared, even before he had met you. The blonde was always so at ease with you, even when she wasn’t open with him. He had been surprised at first that you two weren’t soulmates looking for a third. You just… fit too perfectly to not be soulmates. “I’ve thought you were meant to be for a long time,” 

“But I’m not gay,” Lindsey grumbled, crossing her arms, and Ty cracked a smile at her, shaking his head. The tension immediately dissipated from the room. 

Of course, that’s what the problem was. 

“There’s such a thing as bisexuality Linds,” He said as if it were obvious. “And I don’t think whatever label you pick matters when it comes to your soulmate,” 

It wasn’t like you got to choose your soulmate, but that fear was still there. She hadn’t considered that she might not have to choose a label. That you weren’t asking her to. All you wanted was the acknowledgment that she felt what you did.

That’s all that you had ever wanted from her. 

And she couldn’t even give you that. 

But she had him. This incredible person who was actively advocating for you, even when it meant that he would lose her. 

She also had you, who was willing to stand aside in agony if it meant she got to be happy. 

She shook her head. It wasn’t fair to compare the two of you, but she couldn’t help it. She could never help it. She loved him, but not in the way that she loved you. 

She was in love with you. She always had been. 

“You’re not mad?” She asked so softly, selfishly. She didn’t want to lose him. 

He shook his head, giving her hand another squeeze. “I’m disappointed you didn’t tell me sooner, but I’m not angry with you,”

More tears left Lindsey’s eyes without her permission, trailing hot paths down her cheeks, and he pulled her back into his chest. “I don’t want you to hate me,” 

He sighed, holding her closer, his finger weaving into her hair and gently scratching her scalp. It was a move he knew soothed her. One he had ironically learned from you. 

“I could never hate you, Linds,” He murmured the words into her hair, resting his chin on the crown of her head. “Not for this,”

Lindsey let out a wet laugh, pulling away. “Y/n does, and so do most of my teammates,”

Ty carefully brought his hands to her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe the tears still trailing down her cheeks. “They don’t, they’re just disappointed too,” 

Again she was struck by how good he was. By how mature and caring he was. By how good of a father he would make one day. 

But his hands didn’t feel as soft as yours did. They didn’t make her feel as safe as yours did. 

The longing she felt for you was so deep in her bones it hurt, and the pictures Kelley sent her put the ball in her court. 

It was her job to make it right. 

“I need to fix it,” She mumbled, sniffling slightly. 

He smiled sadly again, leaning forward and placing a very sweet kiss on her forehead before pulling away and standing. “I have faith you will,” 

She watched him quietly as he pulled on his shirt, packed his small bag, and slid his shoes onto his feet before he paused by the edge of the bed. 

She couldn’t fight the sudden urge to reach out her fingers towards him, to be connected to him for what would most likely be the last time. 

He met her halfway, tangling their fingertips together in a slow dance. “If you ever need anything just call alright?” He said, and she felt his honesty. “I’m still your guy,” 

His fingers slipped from hers for the final time. 

He might be her guy, but she wasn’t his girl. 

Not anymore. 

She was yours. 

She just had to figure out how to tell you that. How to get you to forgive her? 

Silence echoed around her as he softly closed the door, and for once she felt totally and completely alone. 

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through contacts, looking for someone who would tell her what to do. 

She paused over Tobin’s contact photo. The forward had always been close to you, and she would know what to do, even if she would be disappointed in Lindsey. 

She pressed Tobin’s contact picture, holding the phone up to her ear and closing her eyes. 

Tobin was the only one who knew you as well as she knew herself. 

The phone rang twice before Tobin’s faint “hello” met her. 

“I fucked up,”

*****

Lindsey had never felt more exhausted in her entire life, not even after she had played 120 minutes in 100-degree weather. Not after running endless drills with you in France. Not even after looking all over for you after you disappeared the night of the World Cup. 

Never. 

It was a fatigue that settled deep in her bones, that followed her through every movement she made. That made it impossible for her to think about anything other than you. A weariness that had nothing to do with her lack of sleep. 

Her only saving grace was the warm cup of coffee. She sipped the dark liquid reverently, eyes shifting between her parents and the door every few minutes, waiting for you or Kelley, or Emily to step through the doors. 

To prove that the photos she had received last night were a bad dream. A cruel prank. 

But mornings after games tended to be slow, and this morning was no different. The few veterans who were in the meal room puttered about lazily, sending looks her way at odd intervals that made her feel like they knew something she didn’t know. 

Like they were scolding her without words. 

“Sweetie, are you ok?” Her mother’s hand caught her own, gently pulling the coffee cup from her hand. 

Lindsey blinked, once, twice, three times as the words filtered through her brain. 

Was she ok?

The definitive answer was no, absolutely not. 

Her world was crumbling around her, and the only person to blame was herself. She had hurt her soulmate so badly that she didn’t know if she would ever forgive her, and the thought of losing you made it hard to breathe. 

She didn’t know how to be without you, and now she was staring that very prospect in the face. 

She let out a shaky breath, blue eyes finally finding the courage to meet her mother's gaze. 

Concerned eyes she knew would turn cold and hard when she informed them of what she had done. Eyes that would surely reject her when they found out that you were a girl and not the dashing young man they had envisioned for her. 

It was like there was a world between them, a chiasm that they didn’t even know existed filled with the admission that she had been lying to them for a long time. Filled with a suffocating silence and words that Lindsey needed to say. 

She could hear Tobin in her head. “The first step is honesty. With yourself and everyone else,” and she knew with everything she was that the midfielder turned forward was right. 

The only way to undo this mess was to be honest. To untangle each half-truth one at a time. To mend each hurt with kept promises and replace each pretend moment with reality. 

The only way she was going to get you back was to confront her fear. That started with this. 

“No,” Lindsey said, shaking her head minutely. “I’m not ok. I messed up really bad, and I don’t know if I can fix it,” 

Her father frowned. “Is this about the game?”

“You played so well honey. Korea just had a bead on the team's offense,” Her mother added, using her free hand to grab Lindsey’s arm. 

She stared at them, slightly dumbfounded at how unseeing they were. How they didn’t seem to know her at all. How they didn’t even pick up on her inner turmoil. 

“No. I-“ She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “I had the soulmate dream,” 

“Oh,” Lindsey’s mother breathed out, leaning back in her chair. 

“By Ty’s lack of presence, I’m assuming it wasn’t with him?” Her father said, sipping his coffee. 

She shook her head. “No,”

“Well, we’ll have to meet the young man,” He added flatly, barely looking up from his cup. “He’s part of the family now,” 

“It’s not,” She took a gulping breath, before forcing the words past her lips. “My soulmate isn’t a young man,” 

Her father looked up, locking eyes with her mother. They shared a long look, the kind that only soulmates having a silent conversation could before her mother gently squeezed her hand. 

“Is it Y/n?”

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed, entirely unexpecting of her mother’s response. “Wha?… how did you?”

“Sweetie,” Her mother smiled gently at her. “The two of you have been attached at the hip since the moment you met,” 

“We’ve been expecting this for a while,” Her father added gruffly. 

“And you’re alright with that?” Her voice cracked over the word, and her eyes ducked away. 

She knew how they felt about homosexuality. She had heard about it for her entire childhood. She didn’t want to lose them too. 

“You don’t get to choose your soulmate,” Her Father said, though he didn’t sound happy about the omission, but his voice lightened. “And Y/n is exceptional,” 

Her mother hummed, squeezing her hand again. “Plus Y/n always looks at you like you put the stars up in the sky, and she’s been nothing but polite to us,” 

Her father nodded once, and Lindsey took that as his agreement, though he didn’t soften. “An acceptable soulmate,” 

Lindsey felt the knot in her chest loosen, though she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about their assessment. She guessed acceptable and exceptional were the best she could expect from her father. 

“Now,” Her father said, leaning forward in his chair, setting his coffee on the table. “You said you messed up, tell us what happened,” 

She frowned at him, confused by his reaction, and his sudden interest. 

“I,” The words were caught in her throat as she finally met her dad's gaze. “I hurt her because I was afraid, and now I’m not sure that I can fix it,” 

“Afraid?” Her father grumbled, his eyes suddenly hard. “Of what? Y/n has never done anything to make you question her feelings,” 

“Of….” Lindsey took a deep steadying breath, working through his defense of you. Of the strange protectiveness? That had overcome him, while also working through how to phrase her answer. It threw her that they weren’t upset you were her soulmate.  “A lot of things. It doesn’t matter now,” 

Her father hummed, crossing his arms.

It was a gesture she had seen thousands of times before. One he liked to use after he heard both sides of the story when she would fight with her brother. One he used when she told him she was going to France instead of college. 

“Honey, you’re soulmates, but you’re also human,” Her mother hummed. “Give her time to process everything that’s happening, then apologize and let her come to you,” 

There was a beat of silence before her father sat back in his chair. 

“That girl loves you, and you love her too,” He added as if he was telling her that the defense used double pivots in transition. Like it was an undisputed fact. “You’ll figure it out,”

Lindsey swallowed hard. She knew she loved you, but it was unsettling that everyone else did too. That they all seemed to think that you would love her back after everything she had done.

“Y/n could never stay mad at you for long anyway,” Her mother chuckled, patting her hand, a stark contrast to her father's serious face. “Just go on her terms, and I’m sure she’ll be receptive to you,” 

She nodded, more to herself than to them. She could do that. She could wait and do things on your terms. She was sure Kelley and Emily and probably Tobin and Christen wouldn’t settle for anything less. 

A long silence stretched between them, before her father cleared his throat, grabbed his coffee, and leaned back into his chair. “Now that that’s settled, do you know who’s starting in the next game? Y/n got several very good shots off last time,”

“I um,” Lindsey shrugged, scratching the back of her neck, thinking of the photos of you in that stupid hospital bed. “I’m not sure,” 

She didn’t doubt Vlatko would let you play, even injured, but it made the ache in her chest worse to think about. Jill was bad in her own way, but at least she usually stuck to doctor-recommended injury return protocols. 

“Hmm,” Her father hummed, idly sipping his coffee as her mother went back to her tea. “We’ll have to just wait and see then,” 

Lindsey nodded again, thinking more about you than about the game. 

She would have to wait and see if you would be open to her again. To wait and see if she would ever be able to fix the damage she had caused. To wait for you to be ready. 

****

“This isn’t a good idea,” Dawn muttered, carefully wrapping your signature red pre-wrap around the thick white gauze on your hand, and the plastic splint holding your palm in a fixed position. “You should be resting,” 

“The field is the only place I can think clearly. It’s better if I play,” Your shoulders lifted and fell. “Does there have to be so much wrapping? It looks more like a club than a hand,” 

Christen rolled her eyes at the statement. 

She should have expected it with the blase attitude you had dawned since the moment she arrived, but your lack of care for your health was still rather astonishing. She couldn’t exactly blame you though, not after Kelley told her what happened. 

At least the parts that the defender knew. You still wouldn’t talk about what happened in the bathroom. 

“You sliced into the muscle of your palm. You’re lucky you didn’t lose the mobility in your fingers, and now you have convinced your coach to let you play not even 72 hours later,” Christen sighed, rubbing your right shoulder gently. 

“Yes, the gauze has to be this thick, we don’t want any of the stitches to accidentally re-open,” Dawn explained gently. 

She didn’t mention that she was adding extra to try and shield you from prying eyes. To keep the commentary teams and the media from speculating about the still gray lines extending past your elbow. 

You hummed in understanding, blinking away from the women and to the small paper you had found in your locker. 

It wasn’t the first note that had magically appeared, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

It made you feel like you were in high school, passing notes, except you refused to pass back. You didn’t even see the point in reading them. As far as you were concerned, you and Lindsey had nothing to say to each other anyway. 

But still, she kept trying. 

It was weird, and you felt a little like a yo-yo being yanked back and forth. You assumed it was from pity. You didn’t want her pity. 

“Did she send you another one?” Christen asked, her voice going soft. 

You swallowed hard, holding the little blue paper between your fingers, avoiding the loopy pen marks it wore. “Yep,” 

“Do you want me to see what it says?” She pressed carefully. 

You held it out toward the forward in a familiar gesture. She had read all of the notes. “If you want,” 

It was the same response you had given to all the little notes. The same… unbothered indifference. 

She very slowly reached out and plucked the note from your hand, opening it and reading over the words. “Do you want to know what it says?” 

“Nope,” You popped the p, pulling your hand away as Dawn tore off the pre-wrap and pressed it to your arm. “If I wanted to know, I would have read it,” 

“Let me get you a pill and you can go warm up,” Dawn said, pushing herself to her feet. 

“It’s mostly the same as the others,” Christen continued as if you hadn’t said you didn’t care. “She wonders if you’ve read any of the notes,” 

“There have been 10 and you and Tobin have given me the gist of them all,” You muttered, accepting the small, metallic-colored pill from dawn, popping it in your mouth, and swallowing it with a sip of water. 

You just didn’t see the point in reading them. Lindsey never kept her word anyway. 

 “Plus, it’s not like it’ll make this go away,”  You waved your hand over your chest, vaguely gesturing to where you knew the deep bruise sat.

You glanced at Dawn who nodded. “The only known cure to soulmate sickness is physical contact,” 

“So there’s no point,” You shrugged, pushing yourself off the table. “Am I free to go now?” 

“Yes,” Dawn said. “Just take it easy, alright,” 

You paused at the door. “What’s the point, I’m going to die anyway. Why not have fun first,” 

Christen grimaced as the door slammed shut. “I hate it when she jokes like that,”

“I’m not sure it was a joke,” Dawn mumbled, making eye contact with the forward. “The medication will slow it down, but it can’t stop the effects entirely,” 

The apathy. The emptiness in your eyes. The loss of your sunny personality. 

You would lose yourself entirely, and then you would lose your life. 

******

You knew the dream was coming before you fell asleep. You could feel it. 

It felt like a punishment from the universe. A punishment for ignoring Lindsey’s notes. Punishment for letting Kelley, Emily, Christen, and Tobin run interference so you didn’t have to deal with her. A punishment for protecting yourself. 

But it still disoriented you when your eyes flickered open. 

You would never get used to the too-bright colors or the way the light blended into a too-vivid scene that felt real. A scene that made you suddenly feel right. Whole.

A scene you knew was a lie. 

You glanced around the room. A long, open space with little cubbies and nameplates. It was familiar. A locker room like any other. 

You didn’t feel like reading the names to see what part of your past it was from. You just didn’t… care. 

You let out a long breath, shuffling back into the empty cubby and turning sideways. You tucked your knees to your chest, rested your chin on them, and closed your eyes. You were content to wait it out. To pretend.

The bench creaked beside you, but you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have to to know who it was. The warmth that filled your hollow chest was enough. Plus there was only one human on the planet who could crash your dreams. 

Lindsey hesitantly cleared her throat, and you heard her shift beside you. “Good game,” 

You hummed. 

It was a good game. Very good. 

You ended up with a first-half hat trick thanks to a stellar cross from Huerta and an assist from Rose. It helped that Vlatko hadn’t let you and Lindsey on the field at the same time (she came on at the half when you were subbed out). 

You were sure how much of that was his doing and how much was demanded by the team and medical staff. 

You had barely seen Lindsey in general, other than when she was on the bench, and you knew that was done by design. When Emily and Kelley weren’t guarding you, it seemed that one of your teammates (especially Sanchez, Trinity, and Huerta) would suddenly need something from you when Lindsey tried to approach. 

It was weird and blatantly obvious, but you deeply appreciated their efforts. 

Lindsey cleared her throat again, and you felt her shift closer to you. “I-… look, I’m sorry. For everything,” 

You let a beat of silence pass between you, unsure if you were even going to respond. Your eyes slowly dragged open and you met tired blue. They seemed to echo the dull throb that had settled in before the game. The same hollowness that just wouldn’t go away. 

A part of you wondered what everything meant. 

Was she sorry for all of the nights you had shared? All of the intimate moments you had never shared with anyone else? That you would never share with anyone else. 

Or maybe she was just sorry she would never care for you in the way you cared for her. 

“Me too,” You said softly. The words felt heavy, laced with truth and pain and utter defeat. 

Not because of the pain she had put you through, but because she regretted you. 

You were sorry because you weren’t good enough. 

You looked away from her burning gaze, back towards the wood of your little cubby. It felt like she was dissecting you. Like she was looking through you and straight into your thoughts. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lindsey said, her voice deadly serious. “This is all on me,” 

“Not all of it,” You shrugged, lifting your left hand and wiggling your fingers. It was strange because you hadn’t been able to move them for the last week, and you expected the thick gauze to follow you into your dreams. 

That part was all on you, no matter what your friends wanted to believe. 

Lindsey sighed, and you knew she wanted to argue with you, but part of you hoped she wouldn’t. You were too tired to fight. 

“How did it happen?” She asked so softly you almost missed it. 

You blinked, and your eyes flickered back to hers. “What?” 

Lindsey swallowed hard, her throat visibly gulping. “Kelley sent me the picture, but no one will tell me what happened,” 

You frowned. You wanted to say nothing had happened. You wanted to yell and scream at Kelley, even if you knew she meant well. You wanted to admonish Lindsey for not already knowing the reason, even if it wasn’t fair. 

“She shouldn’t have,” 

Lindsey’s hand caught your forearm, sliding down your skin to connect your hands. “Y/n, please,” 

It sent a shiver down your spine and a warmth through your veins that hadn’t been there in god knows how long. 

It chipped away at the ice encasing your heart. 

You blew out a long breath, ripping your eyes from her, leaning your head back so it hit the locker with a low thump, and fixing your eyes on the stupid photoshopped picture Emily had fixed on the roof of your cubby after a bad Portland practice. It was of the three of you, your heads photoshopped onto a picture of the Teenage mutant ninja turtles. 

“A mirror broke,” You said slowly, forcing the words around the sudden lump in your throat. You hadn’t told anyone what happened yet, Christen and Tobin included. “And I got cut. That wasn’t your fault, no matter what Kelley wants to believe,” 

Lindsey made a low sound like she knew that your explanation wasn’t the whole story like she knew you weren’t being honest, 

but she didn’t push. Not like she usually would. 

She sat back on the bench, and squeezed your hand once, twice, three times. 

And it made you feel like you were 17 again, sitting in France holding on for dear life as your world was rocked to its core. It made you feel like you were 22, sitting in this very locker room working through your growing feelings. It made you feel safe and loved in a way that no one else could.

That thought made you sick to your stomach because you knew it wasn’t real. 

The mark on your chest was proof enough of that. 

But you didn’t see the harm in accepting the comfort. In letting her let you just exist. Your eyes slid closed and for the first time in weeks, you felt at peace. 

Who cared if it wasn’t real? At least you weren’t in pain anymore. 

“What about the bruise?” She asked after several long minutes, and you blinked back at her again, noting the way her eyebrows furrowed guiltily. 

Her eyes were fixed on the little Thorns logo sitting just above your heart. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell nonchalantly. “Yeah. That’s kinda on you,” 

“Is it..-“ She paused, shaking her head. “Can I see it?” 

Your nose scrunched. “I’d have to take my shirt off, so no. I don’t even know if it’d be in this stupid dream,” 

It was too… vulnerable. Too exposed for you. Far more unprotected than you were willing to be with Lindsey. 

Plus if the universe wanted her to see it, then you would have appeared in an outfit you couldn’t hide it in, not your old training uniform. 

“You weren’t supposed to see it in the first place,” Yoh muttered, closing your eyes and laying your head back on the locker with a thump. 

You heard Lindsey swallow hard, and you knew she wanted to argue with you. Even if you weren’t quite sure what she could argue. 

But she didn’t. 

Her hand squeezed yours in three slow pulses again. “Alright,” 

You felt the know you didn’t know was in your chest loosen, and your shoulders relaxed as you leaned farther back into the wooden cubby. 

At least you weren’t in pain, and in the quiet locker room, it was easy to let Lindsey’s soft breathing lull you into a near doze. 

It reminded you of all the times you had listened to her breathing when you couldn’t sleep, or when you woke up from a nightmare. All the times it was a sign that you were safe. 

Now you just supposed it was like the beeping of a life support machine. Something to prolong the inevitable. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you got to feel this at ease. 

*****

Camp had ended far less eventfully than it had started, and you were incredibly grateful for that. 

The final morning passed with little fanfare, and you felt more rested than you had in months, and before you knew it Christen and Tobin were guiding you through the terminal towards a plane headed directly to LA. 

You hadn’t seen Lindsey at all, but as you grabbed your headphones from your bag, you saw the little blue Post-it tucked just inside the zipper. 

You gently grabbed the little paper, pulled out your headphones too, and shoved the bag back under your seat. You stared at it, running your fingers over the indent of your name across the folded front in Lindsey’s loopy writing. 

“Are you going to read this one?” Tobin asked you, pretending that she wasn’t watching the way you were fixated on the note. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. You hadn’t decided if you were going to open it yet. “Do you know how it got into my bag?” 

“Nope,” Tobin shook her head once. “I was on door duty, and Kelley and Emily were more worried that you ate,” 

You nodded, your tongue poking past your lips. Christen wouldn’t have made the assist, she made her opinion clear, even after you told her about the latest dream. 

You looked back down at the small note. 

You hadn’t cared about them up to this point. You didn’t want to know what Lindsey had to say. You just wanted her to let you die in peace. You just wanted her to be happy and to not hurt anymore. 

But she wasn’t happy. 

Sitting in the Thorns locker room had also filled you with a strange sense of nostalgia. You missed how simple it was before you recognized your feelings. How easy it was to be around her and to feel safe. 

You missed being her friend, intimacy be damned. 

And no matter how stupid you thought the high school note-passing tactic was, you were suddenly curious if it would change those new feelings. If it would tell you why. 

“Do you want me to read it?” Tobin asked, reaching for the small, blue paper. 

You pulled it away. “No,” 

“Ok,” She agreed easily, settling back into her seat, pretending to not watch you. “Christen put the others in the bottom of your bag if you want to read them too,” 

You hummed at the offhand comment, flipping the little blue note over once more before slowly working it open. 

You cracked a smile at the little sketch of a teenage mutant ninja turtle at the top, just below where it was sealed. It was Leonardo and Rafael with a small pizza slice between them. 

Hey Raf,

I forgot that we used to call each other that until I saw Emily’s drawing in your old locker. I kinda miss the days of being the TMNT 3. I definitely miss you. 

Chris says you don’t read my notes, and I can’t blame you. I just want you to know I choose you. I want you to know I love you. 

You didn’t finish reading it.

You didn’t want to.

“What did she say?” Christen asked you gently from Tobin's other side. 

“Some bullshit about her choosing me,” You shrugged again, crumbling the paper and tossing it towards her. “Was it in all the other ones too, or did you just omit it from the synopses?”

She caught it easily, flattening the paper against her thigh, frowning as she scanned over the page. “I just figured It wasn’t the main message,” 

“And what was?” You grumbled. “That now that everyone knows she fucked up she suddenly wants me?” 

“I think the team is more concerned with you deciding you’d rather die,” Tobin said, carefully grabbing the note and reading it after Christen was done. “But go on,” 

You frowned at the pair, suddenly wondering whose side they were on. 

“I don’t want her to care out of some sense of obligation or guilt,” You grit out the words. “I’m not a consolation prize,” 

“No,” Christen agreed carefully. “You’re not a consolation prize to her,” 

“I think Lindsey has cared for a long time,” Tobin added, catching your hand. “She was just afraid to show it,” 

“Could have fucking fooled me,” You snorted. “She chooses me or whatever but she still hasn’t told her boyfriend that I’m her soulmate,” 

Tobin paused, sending a look over her shoulder to Christen. You frowned. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Tobin blew out a long breath. “Lindsey called me the night you broke your hand. We thought she told you,”

Your eyes widened.

Lindsey called them. Lindsey talked to them. They talked to her. 

“What did she want?” The words forced themselves through your grit teeth, misplaced anger rushing through you and flushing your cheeks. 

“Take a deep breath,” Christen said, her voice as calming as you had ever heard it. The same voice she had used each time your unstable emotions threatened to overtake you. 

They were yet another growing symptom of soulmate sickness. 

“I don’t want to,” You bit back. “Tell me,” 

Tobin held her hands up in defense. “Most of it isn’t my story to tell,” 

You sucked in a deep breath through your nose, blowing it slowly out of your mouth, feeling your anger bleed out with it. “But?”

“Lindsey is trying. She just doesn’t know where to start,” Tobin said very slowly, choosing her words carefully. 

“I will not be her second choice,” You muttered, picking at the gauze still wrapped tightly around your hand. “you’re supposed to be on my side,” 

“We are on your side. The side of you living long enough to go to your third World Cup and win,” Christen said, reaching across Tobin to catch your hand and prevent you from unraveling the bandage. “And we’re not telling you to forgive her,” 

You blew out another breath. “Then what are you telling me?” 

“You don’t have to forgive Lindsey,” Tobin said. “I’m not even saying you have to entertain the idea. All I mean is that you’re tied for life, and when you’re ready, she has a lot of making up to do. When you’re ready, it’s on her to fix it. She knows it, and is willing to do it.”

“Hence the stupid fucking notes?” You asked softly, your eyebrows furrowing. The notes were such a Lindsey thing to do. A way to see how open you were to her without pushing. A way to let you come to her. 

“Hence the notes,” Tobin nodded. “She didn’t know where to start,” 

You closed your eyes tightly, leaning back in your seat. “I wish Kelley hadn’t sent her that fucking picture. Then she still wouldn’t care,”

“Kelley sent it because she is insanely protective,” Christen explained as if it was obvious. “You were hurting and she wanted the person responsible to know,”

“You’re like her little sister,” Tobin added unhelpfully. 

You shook your head. “It’s not Lindsey’s fault I hurt my hand, and I wish everyone would fucking see that,” 

“Then who’s fault was it?” Christen pressed, keeping her voice gentle. 

You let out a breath, counting to 10 in your head, trying to still the sudden rush of thoughts and emotions that came from the simple question. 

The truth was that punching that mirror was all on you. It was your inability to regulate your emotions. Your inability to accept the truth. Your inability to be enough. 

You were frustrated that Kelley had shown Lindsey the aftermath, and even more annoyed that it suddenly changed the way Lindsey felt. 

She shouldn’t be guilted into loving you. 

You weren’t worthy of it, no matter how much admitting it made the place on your chest throb. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You said, your voice rough with the unspoken tsunami of emotions in your chest, your uninjured hand rubbing idly at the spot right above your heart. 

“You never want to talk about it,” Christen said, her voice edging in desperation. 

You sighed, peeling your eyes open to meet her green. “Lindsey deserves to be happy,”

The defeat in your voice shocked even you as it reached your ears, and the pure honesty made the sludge in your stomach rock. 

Tobin used a hand to catch your chin, forcing you to look at her. “And what about you? Don’t you deserve happiness too?” 

You shook your head, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I don’t matter,” 

You slipped your headphones over your ears before they could push the issue before they could make you unpack that feeling, and stared out the window. 

“I’ve never mattered,”

****

You bit the inside of your lip, glaring at the colorful painting that sat on your therapist's wall, picking at the edge of the gauze on your hand. 

There was less of it now, making it look more like a hand than a club, but the stitches were still sensitive enough that you couldn’t go without it. 

“I don’t understand your question,” You muttered, your eyes tracing across the red sunset in the painting, refusing to look at her. 

It was a bad habit you had picked up in the three weeks you had been seeing her. It was easier to talk to her when you didn’t have to look at her, not that you had done much talking anyway. 

“You’ve told me a lot of wonderful things about Lindsey. You’ve told me about the incredible intimacy that the two of you share. I wanted to know who initiated it,” Clarke said, and you could feel her watching you. 

You frowned. “Like who kissed who first?” 

It felt like one of those stupid media fan questions. Like the ones you had gotten on Twitter after the game, demanding to know how you hurt your hand and asking for your opinion on the fan theories the whole ordeal had created. 

It wasn’t like the normal probing questions Clarke asked you. 

She hummed, shrugging her shoulders. “Is that when you think the emotional intimacy between you started?” 

You bit your lip at the question. You and Lindsey had been linked far before you kissed. 

“No,” You said, dragging your eyes to meet hers. “That was pretty instant,” 

You remembered being taken with Lindsey from the first moment you saw her, even though she had ripped all of the laces out of her shoe on a stupid escalator. It was mid-morning when her and her mother arrived at the apartment, and you were so anxious you couldn’t get words past your lips. 

You had waved at her instead, and you were pretty sure she thought you were entirely unable to talk for the first two weeks you had known her. 

“Tell me about it?” Clarke asked very gently, noting the faraway look in your eyes in her notes. 

It was the look you always got when you talked about Lindsey, even if all you told her in your discussions were good things. 

“I…” You paused, biting your lips, trying to think of the moment that you and Lindsey became inseparable. It had to have been after your first hard practice. “It was like two weeks after she moved into the apartment. We were watching Disney movies in French to try and learn the language,” 

It was a semi-truth. You had performed horribly on the field and wanted a distraction. All that was on was the lion king and it was extra money to watch it in English. She walked into your soft sniffles and sat down next to you out of obligation. 

Lindsey felt bad for you. She always pitied you. It was why she sat next to you on the couch that night. 

“And it progressed from there?” Clarke pressed, leaning forward. 

“Yeah, we just kinda clicked,” You hummed, scratching the back of your neck with your good hand. It was more than that. That night, she made you smile and you made her laugh. It was the spark of your entire relationship, and it only got stronger when the pressure from the coaches increased. “And then with all the stuff that was happening…”

Clarke nodded understandingly and it made you feel like she could hear the thoughts racing through your head. “Trauma has a way of bonding people,” 

“Yeah,” You nodded, scratching the gray lines on your neck a little harder. When things continued to get worse, you and Lindsey found comfort in each other. She was the only one who made you feel safe. “We started sharing a bed because I was having nightmares. It was comforting to have her there,” 

“She made you feel safe,” Clarke supplied easily. 

“Always,” You agreed. It didn’t matter what was happening at practice, when you were together, you knew it would all be ok. “It was like she was shielding me from all the bullshit. Our bed was our safe place,” 

“Is that why you kissed for the first time?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

The truth was that the first kiss you shared was… blurry. 

“No,” You said slowly. “That didn’t happen for a while,” 

Clarke hummed. “Who initiated?”

“I…-,” Your eyebrows furrowed. You remembered laying on too-fancy sheets, sharing a bowl of unsalted popcorn. You remembered the sunset peeking through the window and soft laughter. You remember leaning against her strong frame, and her hand running through your hair. You remembered the taste of her lips and the way you moved together, but you didn’t know who leaned in first. “I can’t remember actually,” 

Admitting it made your heart race, and your chest ache. How could you not remember such a fundamental moment in your relationship? 

“That’s ok,” Charlie said, reaching out and placing a steadying hand on your knee. “How about we talk about something else for a bit,” 

You swallowed hard, dropping the hand on your neck and going back to picking at the edge of the gauze on your hand. “Ok,” 

“Let’s talk about the night you broke the mirror,” 

Your back instantly straightened. “What about that night?” 

It came out more harshly than you intended. Colder. Guarded. 

You hadn’t even told Tobin and Christen about that night yet, despite their prying. 

“Well, we haven’t discussed it yet,” Clarke said carefully. “And it’s the reason you have to see me 3 times a week for the next month,”

“What do you want to know?” You sighed, leaning forward. 

Being honest was the only way to not have to see Clarke. The only way for her to sign the papers that would get rid of the Minute limit that had been placed on you. 

“How did the mirror break?” Clarke asked you softly. 

You bit your lip, picking the edge of the gauze with a little more vigor. “I punched it,” 

It pained you to say the words out loud and had blood rushing to your cheeks. 

“With the intention of hurting yourself?” 

You blinked up at Clarke’s question. The same question they asked you in the hospital. 

“No,” You said sternly, shaking your head once. “I just… needed the sound in my head to stop,” 

“What kind of sound?”

You squinted at the probing question. The answer was just so difficult to put into words. It was difficult for you to even wrap your head around it. 

There was so much noise constantly surrounding you, and it had all been too much. You wanted Lindsey to stop, and your family to stop. You just wanted everything to… stop. 

“My thoughts,” You mumbled, catching the edge of the gauze and pulling just a bit too tight.  “I was spiraling and I couldn’t get them to stop. I just wanted it to be quiet so I could breathe,” 

Clarke nodded, jotting more notes down in her little book. “You were having a panic attack,” 

“I guess,” Your shoulders lifted and fell and your eyes returned to the stupid painting in her corner. You weren’t sure if it was panic, or if it was an outward manifestation of your disgust in yourself. 

“Alright,” She said finally as the little timer on the table went off. “I have some homework for you that I think will be helpful before our next session…-“

You tuned out her words, focusing instead on the place in the picture where the orange sunset met the deep black of the sea. Where they swirled together. 

You wished you were there instead of here. 

******

You knew the dream was coming. The universe had been kind, allowing you to ignore your soulmate for 5 weeks. You knew it couldn’t last forever, especially after Clarke’s homework. 

The only way for you to complete it was to talk to her, and you fucking refused to respond via note. 

You sighed, pressing your face further into the soft down pillow beneath your head, your hand closing around too-fancy sheets. They were cool to the touch, something that never happened in real life. 

You felt eyes on the side of your face, tracing the little scar that existed by your eye (from an unfortunate encounter with a Spanish defender when you were 17), down your cheek, and sweeping across your nose to your lips. 

It was familiar. A scene that had played hundreds of times. 

But it no longer filled you with the warm fuzzy feeling it used to, even if the ache in your chest dulled. 

“It’s rude to stare,” You mumbled, reluctantly forcing your eyes open to look at Lindsey. 

Lindsey smirked, her dimples showing. “Some people consider it rude not to stare at a masterpiece,”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself to sit up. “That line was played out the first time you used it,”

It was familiar in a way that had butterflies flying in your stomach, and unease settling firmly on your chest. 

Linsey chuckled. “It still made you blush back then” 

You shrugged, running your hand through your hair, noting that you weren’t wearing the brace and gauze that had become part of your wardrobe. You wiggled your fingers experimentally in front of your face, and you could feel Lindsey watching them too. 

“This is where it started,” She said softly, and your eyes snapped toward her. 

“Kinda,”

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

You shrugged, dragging your eyes back toward your hand. It was easier to admit things when you didn’t have to look at the person you were talking to. It was easier to follow Clarke’s advice and be honest. 

“An equipment closet in Paris is where this phase of our relationship kicked off,” 

You said the words softly, but they felt heavy. It was like a rock splashing into a pond, leaving only ripples in its wake. 

You expected Lindsey to argue with you. To say that the night of the World Cup wasn’t where this whole thing started. That this room was the place where you shared most of your firsts. Your first feelings, your first kiss, your first…time. 

But in that closet, she handed you your first heartbreak, and you weren’t sure you had ever even begun to piece back the little shards of your heart. 

She swallowed hard. “I wish that night ended differently. I wish I responded differently. I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am. I should have held you tighter, instead of pushing you away,” 

It surprised you that she didn’t try to deny it, and you tried to smother the warm feeling that started to bloom in your chest. All you ever wanted was for her to acknowledge what the two of you shared. 

“You won’t even acknowledge we’re soulmates,” You countered, none of the fire you expected in your voice. You just sounded… defeated. 

Lindsey frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. “They didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” You asked. 

It irritated you that everyone knew things that you didn’t know. It irritated you that they were talking about you without you there. 

“I broke up with Ty. I told him and my parents,” 

“Oh,” You breathed out. 

“I’m not telling you to get you to forgive me. I just thought you should know,” She said too quickly as if she was afraid she would break the tenuous truce between you. 

Silence stretched between you as you digested the information. Digesting that Tobin and Christen already knew. Digesting that Lindsey really had chosen you. 

You could hear Clarke’s voice in your head, reminding you of the homework she had assigned. The homework to talk about your feelings. 

“You know, it used to make me feel special that you didn’t want other people to know,” You said slowly, and you could feel Lindsey’s eyes on your face. “Then it just made me feel dirty,” 

She reached out and caught your arm. “I’m sorry,” 

You felt it in your bones. Her honesty, her… desperation for you to believe her. 

You did believe her, but you didn’t want her apology. “You keep saying that,” 

“You deserve so much more than what I gave you,” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, her anguish cracking your heart. 

You shook your head. “I don’t need your pity, Lindsey. You don’t have to do this because you’re guilty,”

She frowned. “Guilty?”

You chuckled. “That’s what our relationship is based on isn’t it?”

She only told them because she had to. Because she felt bad. Because Kelley had exposed Lindsey’s impact on you. 

“Absolutely not!” Lindsey exclaimed, wiggling your arm, trying to get you to look at her. 

“It is though,” You pressed out, despite the bitter taste of the words on your tongue. “You never would have been my friend if you didn’t walk in on me crying,” 

She never would have been your friend if she didn’t feel some… obligation to not leave you alone that first night. She felt sorry for you because you were incapable of making friends with anyone else on the French squad. 

“Y/n,” She said more softly, shifting over and ducking so you had to look at her. “I had been working up the courage to talk to you since I moved in,”

Her eyes burned into yours, and her honesty sent shivers down your spine. 

“It was never because you felt bad for me?” You asked again. 

“No,” 

You nodded, your mind flying to try and catch up with the admission. With the knowledge that maybe she had wanted you as long as you wanted her. Maybe this wasn’t just her response to pity and guilt. 

Maybe she could help you with your therapy homework after all. 

“Did you kiss me first, or did I kiss you?” You suddenly asked the question.

The tension between you dissipated instantly, and Lindsey’s laugh was like bells, drawing a smile to your features. 

Lindsey’s head tilted. “You can’t remember?” 

You shook your head once. “No, and I hate that I can’t,”

A small smile played across her lips. “I guess it kinda makes sense. It’s a trick question,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind thought back to that night. 

You could practically feel the indent of her hand as it rested on your waist, holding you steady. You could feel her soft breaths puffing onto your lips. You could smell her perfume, mixed with something just so… Lindsey. 

You remembered your eyes meeting hers, and how the blue was just a sliver around her dilated pupils. You remembered them getting closer like you were magnets drawn together. 

“We leaned in at the same time,” 

“We did,” She agreed, watching as you leaned back into the pillows. “So technically it was mutual,” 

You hummed, running a hand through your hair, accidentally flashing the dark mark that had crept back up your shoulder as your shirt shifted. You felt her eyes boring into it immediately. 

“Can I,” She paused, clearing her throat. “Can I see the mark?” 

You tensed immediately, and you pulled away from her, your shoulders curling in on themselves. “You’ve already seen it,” 

She sat before you frozen, her hand hanging in the air like she was still holding on to you and flipped it over, and held it out to you. “Y/n, please?” 

You stared at it with untrusting eyes. 

Talking to Lindsey was one thing, but showing her the damage she caused was another. 

But then again, didn’t she have the right to see it? That was Kelley’s defense after all. 

You let out a long breath, sending her a very stiff nod. It took you another second to gather the courage to pull your shirt over your head. 

Lindsey gasped as soon as the dark mark on your chest and the spider web of veins that sprouted from it was on display, but she didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t even roam the newly visible skin. 

She was doing this at your pace, you realized. 

“You can look,” You said, your voice shaking slightly. 

Lindsey swallowed and very slowly brought her eyes up to gaze at your chest. Her eyes felt heavy, but they didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t feel objectified, but you never had with her. 

“Can I,” She cleared her throat. “Can I touch it? They say that helps?”

You blinked at her, once, twice, before you slowly nodded. 

It was something Clarke had suggested. She said physical contact in dreams was a good way to start, especially if you weren’t averse to Lindsey’s touch. 

The problem you saw was that you were the complete opposite. You were addicted to the way her skin felt on yours and the instant sense of safety it brought you. 

Lindsey wasn’t safe anymore, and you needed to remember that. 

She moved slowly as she brought her hand to your chest like you were a frightened animal she was afraid would snap at her. 

You sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers gently landed on the deep purple skin right above your heart, and tingles sprouted from the place the two of you met. 

It made your chest burn, like a flame blasting away at the ice that had coated your veins. 

It was better than a hug, and you could practically feel your worry and pain being sucked from your chest. 

“Does it-…” You cleared your throat, your cheeks turning red. “Do you feel it too?” 

Lindsey frowned, and you rolled your eyes. “Do you feel the ache too?” 

“I do,” She bit her lip and nodded. She let her fingers wander up your chest, tracing the thick black line that extended to your neck.“But I doubt it’s anywhere close to what you feel. I never meant to cause you pain,” 

You hissed when she pressed into the line slightly too hard, in the place Kelley always did. “Then why did you?”

She paused, slowly dragging her hand down across your shoulder and down your arm, following the web of lines. 

“I was afraid, and that made me selfish,” 

“Of?” You pressed, catching her hand. 

Her eyes blinked up to meet yours, and you saw something you didn’t often see. Insecurity. “My family, the media, myself,” 

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You could understand fear. She used Ty and the word “friendship” as a shield. You had just been an inadvertent casualty. 

That didn’t change overnight. It also didn’t make it ok, but it was nice to understand. 

“We would have gotten through it,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Together,” 

You would have done anything for her. You still would. You were willing to die so she could be happy after all. 

“We’ll get through this too,” She squeezed your hand three times slowly. “I’ll do whatever I have to make it up to you,” 

“No more notes. We’re not in high school,” You cracked a small smile leaning back into the pillows. “Just text me instead,” 

“I can do that,” She agreed, squeezing your hand again, and you believed her. 

*****

You knew physical contact was supposed to help with the symptoms of soulmate sickness, you just never really thought about how much it would help. 

You felt like you were walking on air. Like the weight in your chest had eased, even slightly. Even smiling didn’t take as much effort as it had for the last several weeks. 

Maybe that was why Freya had let you help the goalies practice (fucking finally), and even join in on the last few minutes of the scrimmage that ended practice. 

You just felt… good. (But you were loath to admit it was mostly because of the dream you shared with Lindsey). 

You expected that was what Freya wanted to talk to you about as practice came to a close. You hadn’t expected her to instead lay out a plan that put your physical and mental health at the forefront of the team. You hadn’t expected her to care. 

Shock followed you to the locker room, as you sat down heavily in front of your locker. 

“You good?” Tobin asked, settling beside you as you untied your cleats. It was so much easier now that you didn’t have to have the plastic splint under the gauze still wrapping your hand. 

“Hmm,” You hummed, pulling out your shin guards and sticking them inside your cleats. 

Tobin waited for you to continue, sharing a look with Christen and raising her eyebrow when you did not. 

“What was that about?” Christen prompted gently. 

You blew out a breath, “Freya is excusing me from the game. I have to be in Portland but I don’t have to go to the stadium,” 

Christen settled down on your other side. “And how do you feel about that?” 

You shrugged. “I’m not cleared to play, so I’m not surprised,” 

You could feel them watching you, but you stared at your cleats. 

“That doesn’t answer the question kid,” Tobin pressed, her hand leaning heavily on your shoulder, her thumb barely brushing the little scar that had replaced part of the black line that used to extend up your neck. “How do you feel?”

“It’s not good to bottle it all up,” Christen added gently. 

Your good hand clenched on your thigh. You didn’t want to talk about how you felt. It would make you think about Lindsey and how irritating it was that her just touching you in a dream was enough to have the dark marks retreating. It was irritating that she was texting you now like things were normal. 

“I don’t bottle,” You grit out. 

“You do though,” Tobin said, squeezing your shoulder. 

“You hide all your feelings away to not distract us, or to protect us and it gets so bad that you finally explode,” Christen added, much more softly, carefully uncurling your fingers from your leg and pressing your hand flat. “Look where it’s gotten you,” 

“This wasn’t from bottling,” You muttered, finally dragging your eyes up to meet theirs. “I just wanted everything to stop,” 

“And punching a mirror and a wall over and over again helped with that?” Tobin quirked an eyebrow up at you. 

You swallowed hard and looked away. “Sometimes physical pain is better, more tangible than what’s going on in my head. But this is different,” 

“You don’t know what you want to do?” Tobin asked. 

You shook your head once, biting your lip. “No,” 

“You’ll probably get to hang out in one of the boxes if you go,” Christen reasoned, weaving your fingers together, her other hand rubbing smooth circles into your back. You leaned into the familiar comfort, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“Mark will probably have Lindsey on the field for the whole game,” You agreed, suddenly finding your socks interesting. “And she’s already texting me about coffee and stuff,” 

Christen and Tobin shared another long look behind your back. 

“How do you feel about that?” Christen asked you gently, and you wanted to roll your eyes at the repeated question. She was so much like Clarke in that way. 

You shrugged again. “It’s just weird,” 

“What? Being back in the friend zone? Or dancing the line between the two again?” Tobin snorted, and you sent her a sideways glance. 

“Her being nice to me,” you grumbled, pulling on your sweats and throwing your training gear into your bag. “I’m not sure if she’s being honest or not,” 

“And you’re not sure if you want to find out?” Christen finished your thought for you as if she was reading your mind, ignoring Tobin. 

You nodded. “It’s different in dreams, and I’m not ready to do it in real life yet,” 

Frankly, you were just happy that the paper notes had stopped.

But the rest was more… complicated. 

Everything in the dreams felt real. It felt right. You felt safe. But you knew you weren’t. 

You were just waiting for her to turn on you again. Or for her to suggest you go back to the way things were before. You didn’t want to be a dirty little secret again. 

So far, you had taken several small steps, each one talked out in detail with Clarke. 

You weren’t ready to see Lindsey in person. Or to be back in Portland. Your soul was still healing, but unlike your hands, the thick stitches you had used to pull yourself back together weren’t as healed. 

But you didn’t really have a choice in one. 

“Being back in Portland will be a lot,” Tobin said, and you blinked at the sheer understanding you heard there. 

“I know,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair. “I think being inside providence park will be too overwhelming,” 

“So you’re just going to hang out at the hotel?”  Christen asked, her eyebrows furrowed. 

Neither she nor Tobin liked the idea of you being alone. Not after everything that had happened. Especially when you would be in a city that meant so much to the two of you. 

Your shoulder lifted and fell for a third time. “Yeah, probably,” 

Bailey would most likely set up a PT appointment for you or something, and then you would take notes on the game. You would avoid windows and reminders of where you were, and you would take solace in the genericness of the hotel. You would pretend you were in some other City somewhere.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m not going to mention it to Lindsey yet…”

A part of you didn’t want to give her a chance to talk you into it, and a part of you wanted to throw her slightly off-kilter to see how she would respond. To see if she would reject you.

Christen and Tobin shared another look.

“Whatever you want to do kid,” Tobin agreed, though you could tell she wasn’t entirely sold on your plan, and Christen squeezed your hand. 

You needed to take little steps. And that’s exactly what you would do. 

******

Your nose scrunched as you came into consciousness. 

You dragged your eyes open, immediately noting the clay-colored rocks across from you, and that you were leaning against a boulder the size of a car. You glanced around, seeing the tips of mountains beyond the slight narrowing of the trail, and you assumed a lookout lay beyond the gorge you had woken up in. 

You let out a long sigh, pressing back into the smooth stone. It wasn’t warm, despite the sun on your face, and you wondered if that was a product of the fan on the airplane blowing on your face. You wondered if it was enough to create the artificial breeze dancing through your hair and across your cheeks. 

It was strange that you and Lindsey always met in dreams while you were flying. 

You took another deep breath, before pushing yourself to your feet. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as hiking boots you didn’t own crunched against the trail, and your hand trailed against smooth, cool stones uninhibited by the bandage that had been a mainstay in your wardrobe since the incident nearly 6 weeks ago. 

This had to be Lindsey’s dream. 

You shook your head and slowly made your way through the crevice. You had to turn sideways to make it through the almost too-small crack in the rock to get to the open space just beyond. 

The sight that met you was enough to take your breath away. 

The gorge opened into a small clearing that ended in a cliff. 

Mountains stretched out past the little cliff’s edge, nearly disappearing in the too-blue sky. You could see the ocean just beyond the farthest mountain peak, and if you squinted, you were sure you could spot a boat. 

And there, seated on the edge of the cliff was Lindsey. She was the most beautiful sight of all. 

Blind hair blowing slightly in the wind, her small tank top showing off her strong arms. 

It was painful how gorgeous she was. 

But Clarke said it was good to let yourself feel those feelings. That it was good for you to recognize and acknowledge your attraction to her, even if it made you feel conflicted. 

You shook your head, and very slowly made your way towards her. 

“So this is what you’re always talking about huh?” You asked, settling down beside her, your legs hanging over the edge. 

You felt her shift next to you, but you didn’t turn away from the view. 

“Makes it worth it, right?” She countered, and you could hear the roughness in her voice, but you could also feel her smirk. 

You hated hiking and refused to go on almost all of her outings (the sunrise hike in Hawaii didn’t count, especially with the kiss you had received in the early morning sun), but she always told you that the effort was with it because of the view you got to see. You still weren’t convinced. 

Just like you weren’t convinced that all the work with Lindsey would turn out in the end. But Tobin has once felt the same way about Christen, and they turned out ok. 

You shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’d have to know how many miles away the car is first,”

 “I think it was like 4 and a half miles?” She scratched the back of her neck, and you felt her eyes on your face. 

“Hmm,” You hummed, cracking a smile. “Way too many for me,” 

“You run like 8 in a game and more during practice,” Lindsey chuckled, nudging your shoulder gently. 

“But that’s different,” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but chuckle with her. “It’s a goal-directed activity,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you, her dimples showing, but she didn’t argue with you. 

She scooted closer to you and in another world you would have laid your head on her shoulder, but you didn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to get too comfortable. 

“Are you on the flight?” Lindsey asked you, breaking the short silence that settled between you. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing. You knew that the flight was early, but you hadn't expected her to be asleep. Not when Mark was obsessed with morning practices. “Doesn’t your practice start soon?” 

“I have no clue,” She muttered, rubbing the back of her neck again. “But we can grab coffee after it ends? Your flight should get to Portland and you should have time to get unpacked and stuff,” 

“You probably want to go to Dutch Bros,” You said teasingly. 

“No,” She said instantly, smirking. “Grounded NW has grown on me,” 

Your eyes widened at the name of your favorite coffee shop near the stadium. “You said you hated them,” 

“It’s grown on me,” She shrugged, and you swore you saw a small blush crawling up her cheeks. “And it reminds me of you,”

You felt heat bleed into your cheeks. “You said you didn’t like their oat milk,”

“No. I didn’t like the barista flirting with you,” Lindsey explained, catching your hand. “Tyler doesn’t work there anymore,” 

You frowned. You remembered the tall boy and his twitchy nature. You remembered his asking too many questions as he took your order. You didn’t remember flirting though… then again you had been with Lindsey. You rarely paid attention to other things when she was with you. 

The last time you had been there, he wanted to know all about your upcoming game. Lindsey hadn’t liked that. She practically dragged you out of the small shop after he got a little too close when he passed you your drink. 

“You were jealous?” You asked. 

She bit her lip. “Of course I was jealous. People hit on you all the time, and you weren’t mine.” 

“That wasn’t my fault,” You countered immediately, but she was already nodding. 

“No, it was mine,” Lindsey agreed. “But that didn’t make it easier,” 

It was nice to know that she shared the feelings you did. That she had wanted you. 

At least it made sense why she hated your favorite coffee shop now. 

“Is that why you ordered the most complicated drink I’ve ever heard?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

It was strange how she always ordered some crazy iced coffee thing when you went there with her instead of her normal oat milk late. 

“Yeah,” She said sheepishly, the red in her cheeks traveling up towards her ears. “It was Emily’s idea really, but it kept him busy any time we went there,” 

You snorted. “I thought that was why he was always glaring at you,” 

“You get stuck in your head,” Lindsey shrugged again. 

You shrugged too, settling into silence. It was a true statement after all. You spent a good portion of your life trapped in your head, oblivious to the world around you. 

“So coffee after practice?” She asked suddenly.  

You nodded, looking away. You wouldn’t outright lie, but you wouldn’t be completely honest either. 

“Cool,” She smiled widely at you, and you noticed the edges of the cliff turning slightly blurry.  “See you in Portland,” 

“Yeah,” You said as she faded before you and the dream came to a close.

*****

Lindsey was very confused.

She thought that you were making progress. The two of you were cordial in dreams, and it felt like it used to feel when she was with you. You were willingly texting with her. You weren’t avoiding her anymore. 

It was easy to be with you. And the two of you were working your way towards being friends again. 

At least she thought that. 

But now she wasn’t sure. Not with you not even being on the roster for practice, much less the game. 

“Freya excused her,” Tobin shrugged, trying to push past Lindsey towards the field. 

It was like a pin popping the balloon in her chest. The little pocket of happiness she had been operating in was gone in an instant. 

You had just seen her. Why didn’t you tell her? Why did you agree to coffee if you never intended on going? 

Lindsey caught her arm. “But she’s ok? She’s not hurt?”

“Yeah,” Tobin said dismissively, trying to pull her arm out of Lindsey’s grip. “She’s not cleared for the game and is bored of being the goalie’s kicker,” 

Lindsey’s eyebrows furrowed. Players who couldn’t play usually didn’t travel with the team. “But she said she was on the plane?” 

“She’s doing PT at the hotel,” Christen cut in, appearing behind Tobin’s shoulder. Lindsey noted the sudden stiffness in the midfielder turned forwards form and the worry in Christen’s eyes. 

And suddenly Lindsey understood. They didn’t want to leave you alone. They didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do something stupid. 

“Maybe we should get out of the tunnel,” Christen said, gesturing toward the now-empty LA locker room. Lindsey nodded and allowed them to guide her into the room and towards the bench. 

She dutifully sat down and began wringing her hands together. “She didn’t want to see me, right?”

She couldn’t help the hurt that colored her tone. She didn’t expect you to outright lie to her. 

“Not exactly,” Christen said as the door closed behind them. 

“She isn’t cleared to play,” Tobin explained, settling down beside her.  “Even if the dreams are helping the marks on her chest,” 

“I didn’t know she wasn’t cleared. She didn’t tell me it was that bad,” Lindsey grumbled, looking away from the pair, and the eyes starting to watch them now that they were blocking the door to the locker room. 

Christen’s hand was gentle against her shoulder, and her words were even softer. “Lindsey, when has she ever?”

The midfielder blew out a long breath. 

Christen was right. You were more apt to suffer in silence than burden one of them. But you told her that you were in pain. You showed her and she still ignored it. She ignored every warning sign and stomped over you like you didn’t matter. 

And suddenly, the strange ending to your shared dream made sense. As did the way you talked around going to coffee with her in your texts. 

You were trying to protect yourself from getting hurt by her recklessness again.

She swallowed hard, looking away from Christen. “But the mark on her chest has been better?”

She needed to know that she was at least helping in some way to repair the damage she had caused. 

“It’s fading slowly,” Tobin said, leaning a warm, grounding hand on her back. “She's irritated because the med staff won’t clear her until the stitches come out,”

“And Clarke won’t clear her until she talks about her emotions,” Christen added, her voice even. 

“So seeing me was too much?” Lindsey said, more pained than she intended, running a hand through her hair. “But we’ve been fine in the dreams,”

Christen settled beside her, and gently took her hand. “The two of you were ok in a dream before, and then she got hurt again,”

“Plus she literally plans out what to say to you in those dreams,” Tobin snorted, shaking her head. “It's most of what she and her therapist talk about,”

“So real life was too? What, real?” Lindsey muttered bitterly. 

Tobin sighed, squeezing her shoulder again.  “It brings up too many emotions and being here is already hard for her,”

“But we were finally interacting like we did before,” Lindsey ran another hand through her hair, dragging it down her face. “Things were finally back to the way they were before,”

Christen’s eyes tightened like she was choosing her next words carefully. “Have you considered that going back to the way things were before might be slightly overwhelming for her?”

Lindsey let the words sink in, but she didn’t understand them. 

“Why? All I did was ask her for coffee. It was a friendly date,”

She felt more than she saw Christen and Tobin share a long look. 

“You didn’t call it a date,” Christen said softly, and Lindsey felt her shoulders sink. “And the two of you were never just friends,”

Of course that was the crux of the issue. You told her it would be. 

You didn’t want to be a dirty secret. You wanted her to acknowledge what was between you, and not just in the dreams. 

But you weren’t more than friends. Yet. 

“We were friends who occasionally slept together,”  

The words felt clinical on her tongue. 

“Psh occasionally,” Tobin snorted, ignoring Christen’s glare. 

“A relationship is about more than sex Lindsey,” The striker said sharply, leaving no room for argument. “You two have been emotionally intimate for a very long time. You were intimate even before you started sleeping together,” 

“We weren’t,” Lindsey protested, but Tobin squeezed her shoulder, stopping her before she could deny you yet again. 

“You were,” The midfielder turned striker said softly, “The only reason I could move into the apartment in France was because you two had been sharing a bed for months,” 

Lindsey groaned. “We weren’t sleeping together yet though,” 

“No,” Christen agreed. “But emotionally, you were far closer than friends are. You were basically dating without a label. You went to restaurants and places alone just so you could spend time together. You held each other during sleep and cuddled every chance you got. You washed each other's hair, and You didn’t keep any secrets. The list goes on,” 

“It felt like your entire world was falling apart when she left, right?” Tobin added, watching as recognition flashed through her blue eyes. “That feeling doesn’t come from just being friends. Each time you deny that, you deny her,”

It felt like a knife in Lindsey’s chest, slowly deflating her. 

The two of you had done all of those things. You moved with and around each other like you were one person. Like you belonged. And when the elevator door shut on your face, she had never felt so much pain in her entire life. It was like cracks were rippling through her entire being. She didn’t know how to be without you. How to cope. 

And it solidified how much she did not know how to fix this. It was a minefield of hurt she didn’t know how to navigate. 

“I know that,” Lindsey muttered, running a frustrated hand through her hair.  “That’s not what I mean,”

“But that’s what Y/n hears. It’s what she’s always heard,” Christen said, her words heavy. A sense of finality in her tone. 

It made Lindsey’s chest ache because you had told her that too. She knew you felt dirty. Used. Dispensable to her, even if you weren’t. 

“I know,” She murmured, dragging her hand from her hair and down her face. “I just…-“

She paused, digging her palm into her eye, and Tobin and Christen waited for her to get her thought out. 

“How am I supposed to fix it if she won’t even come see me,”

The, in reality, was implied.

Christen sighed, reaching out to take Lindsey’s hand and carefully pull it from her face. The midfielder met her eyes with burning blue. “We know she hated the notes, but maybe a coffee delivery will be different,”

“And a “date of sorts,” Tobin added, her lips pulling into a half smile. “Facetime has a screen share feature so you can both watch the game,” 

Lindsey nodded seriously, her face morphing into the one it did when she was watching film. Focused and intent. You didn’t want to see her in person, but a Facetime date would mean that she technically wasn’t. 

“I can handle that,” Lindsey hummed, pushing herself to her feet, motivated now that she had a solid plan. 

“Hey Linds,” 

“Yeah?” She asked, pausing by the door and turning to look at them. 

“If you hurt her again, we won’t stop Kelley this time,” Christen said seriously.

“I know,” She nodded. “Sonnett said the same thing. I’m not going to hurt her,” 

******

It was decidedly strange being left alone. 

You had been surrounded by people since the incident, whether it was Tobin and Christen or your new teammates doing their best to be there for you (even if they had no clue what was going on). 

You understood it, and deeply appreciated their efforts to protect you (even from yourself), but as you sat on your hotel room bed, adamantly not looking out the window at the view, you realized how much you had missed solitude.

It was something you talked about with Clarke during the team's morning walk-through. 

It felt like the first time in a long time that you had space to just think. To process what it felt like to be back in a city that meant so very much to you. 

The hotel room was generic enough that you could pretend you were in a different place, even if that didn’t follow Clarke’s advice. Even if you weren’t sure you wanted to pretend anymore. 

You understood that avoiding Lindsey and Portland wouldn’t fix anything. 

But you were afraid. 

Lindsey had always made logic go out the window. She made you feel things in your chest and your stomach that made your brain want to believe her. It made you want to set aside all of the warning bells in your brain.

At least in the dreams, you knew that none of it was real. 

It didn’t matter if you trusted her in the dreams, because you knew you couldn’t when you opened your eyes. 

The only way for her to earn that trust back was through actions, but you weren’t ready for that. Even if you were… 

It didn’t change anything.

You blew out a long breath, settling back on the bed and flicking through the channels on the television to find the one showing the game. 

Freya’s only contingency for sitting out was that you watched how everyone performed. You could do that. You were planning on doing it anyway. 

You hummed as the LA Lineup flashed onto the screen, excited to see both Christen and Tobin starting and interested that they would have Charley up top with them. You wondered if Christen or her would take the 9 spot, or if they would swap out. 

It would be a tough task for any of the back line to take them on, and the midfield would be a major factor. 

You were also curious about what midfield Portland would put up to try and slow them down. Of course, Lindsey would be starting, or so you thought. Your easy smile flipped on itself when you saw that Lindsey was not in the starting 11. She wasn’t even on the roster. 

The commentators were steering clear of mentioning it beyond that you were out with an injury and Lindsey’s absence was excused for personal reasons.

You didn’t get a chance to ponder what the fuck personal reasons were before there was a soft knock at your door. 

You stared at the door for a long minute, flipping between the roster and it several times. 

It would be an entirely Lindsey thing to do to show up at your door, despite your efforts to avoid her. It was an entirely Lindsey thing to be stubborn enough not to give up, despite how much you wanted her to. 

You let out a long sigh and pushed yourself to your feet. You paused when you reached the door, your hand on the shiny handle, steeling yourself to come face-to-face with her. 

You cracked the door open, peeking out, expecting to see her standing there.

Except she wasn’t. 

All that was there was a to-go coffee cup with a sticky note attached to the front. 

“What the fuck?” You mumbled, pulling the door open wide enough so you could pick it up, before retreating into your room. 

You plucked the little orange note off the front, squinting at the loopy writing. 

I know you hated the notes, but I wanted to respect your space. 

FaceTime coffee date?

You couldn’t help but chuckle at it, both irritated and endeared at the same time. 

It was thoughtful and reminded you of a Lindsey you knew before the World Cup. 

You sat back on the bed, taking a hesitant sip of the drink she had gotten you and sticking the sticky beside you on the nightstand. 

It was your favorite drink. 

You weren’t sure why you expected anything less. 

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and flipped to Lindsey's contact, pausing for just a second, stealing your resolve yet again before pressing it. 

It only rang twice before Lindsey’s face appeared on your screen. 

“Hey,” She smiled brilliantly at you, but you still saw the hint of nerves in her eyes. 

You smiled back, holding your cup up to the camera. “Hey, thanks for the coffee,” 

“Couldn’t have a coffee date without coffee.” She held hers up too, and you noticed the little Dutch bros logo that differed from the grounded NW that was stamped on your cup.  “I figured we could pull up a tandem stream and watch the game together,” 

You scratched the back of your neck, as the screen shifted to a wide shot of warmups. “Like a Skype?” 

“There’s a program,” Lindsey shrugged, and the camera shifted as she grabbed what you assumed was her computer. “I can send you a link,” 

You squinted at the phone, glancing back up at your television. There were still 20 minutes before the game. 

“How did you know what room I was in?” You asked, trying not to focus on how attractive the way Lindsey pulled her lip between her teeth was. How attractive the lines of her neck were. 

She looked up at you, her blue eyes burning through you even through the screen. 

“One of the equipment interns is a big fan,” She shrugged. “Cost me an autograph, but she was willing to help,” 

You couldn’t help the way your lips lifted as you shook your head. “Becca isn’t a fan, but her girlfriend Chloe is,” 

“Ah, I see,” Lindsey hummed, and it felt like old times again. It sent butterflies fluttering in your chest and dread pulsing through your stomach. “I found the link, I’ll send it to you,” 

It reminded you that you couldn’t trust her. That she would only hurt you because you were her secret. You just didn’t understand why she wanted to connect with you here. 

Why she was trying so hard when she would just reject you again anyway. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked her suddenly. 

She blinked back towards you. “Doing what?”

“Pretending like you care,” You shrugged, picking at a loose thread on your shorts, looking away from your phone. “You don’t have to put in the effort because you feel guilty or whatever. I don’t blame you for this,” 

You held your still gauze-covered hand up so she could see it. 

She frowned, holding your gaze. “I’m not doing this because I feel guilty, and I’m not pretending,” 

“Then why?” 

“I…,” Red colored her cheeks and she swallowed her, but she didn’t look away from you like you expected her to. “I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time. You are my soulmate, and I have a lot of making up to do. I know that in-person stuff is probably overwhelming, so I thought this was a good compromise,” 

You stared at her like she had grown an extra head. 

She actually listened to what you told her and then thought about it. For the first time, she was taking your feelings into account, instead of barreling through them. 

It was so…weird. 

Of course, she had always been thoughtful, but never about your boundaries. She had always stubbornly edged her way past the very few that there were, and you let her because you wanted her to. 

And it was frustrating because you couldn’t read her emotions through the phone. You didn’t want to do whatever this was on a screen. 

“The stream will be a little grainy, but it’ll work,” she cleared her throat. “I just sent it to you,” 

You sighed but pulled out your laptop and opened the link she sent you. She was right, it was grainy, especially compared to the stream you had going on the television. 

“This is stupid,” You said as the stream glitched. “Where are you?” 

“Um, the conference room,” Lindsey muttered, scratching the back of her neck. “Why?”

You sucked your lip between your teeth, biting down bone too gently, hoping that the little sting would help you think. That it would help you focus. 

Were you ready to see her in person? Probably not, but when had you ever been ready for Lindsey? 

You were almost there. 

And a FaceTime, when no one knew, was too reminiscent of the way things had been. It felt too secretive. Too… hidden. 

“I'm coming down,” You said, deciding in an instant that if you were going to do this, you weren’t going to be her secret. If you were going to do this, if she was going to prove that things would be different, then she was going to have to do it in public where people could see you. “Watching soccer through a screen sucks when the stadium is only like 3 minutes away,” 

She froze, her mouth opening and closing a few times as you slipped off of the bed and pulled on a pair of slides (laces were still a bitch when you couldn’t move your dominant hand). 

It was cool enough out that you wouldn’t look out of place in your sweats, so you slid your room key and your wallet into your pocket before heading out the door. 

“You don’t have to,” She mumbled, running a hand through her hair as the door slammed behind you. “I don’t want you to feel pressured,” 

You glanced at the screen. “I don’t. I just…,” 

You let out a long breath, trying to figure out how to explain it to her. 

“This feels too much like when we watched the premier leagues finals together on FaceTime because Arod gave me a concussion when we played against Utah,” You said, using your back to push through the door that separated the hallway and the stairway. 

It was an unfortunate accident that kept you off the national team roster for the SheBelieves Cup, but that hadn’t stopped you and Lindsey from watching the Arsenal vs. Barça game. 

You had opened your apartment door to find soup waiting for you instead of coffee, and a little note that felt so similar. It was perfect, until Emily interrupted your date, and suddenly you were just Lindsey’s friend again. 

You swallowed, looking away from the phone as you descended down the steps. “I don’t want things to be like they were before,” 

Everyone was in agreement that you couldn’t go back to the way things were. It would kill you more than the soulmate sickness already was. 

You would be past the point of no return if you weren’t there already. 

She paused on the other end of the phone, a very serious look crossing her features. 

“I don’t either,” She said, her eyebrows furrowing the same way they did in the locker room when she figured out how to break through the other team's defense. “I know you hated the notes, but what I said in them was true. I choose you, and I’ll do whatever I need to prove it to you,”  

You sighed but didn’t argue back, pausing on the landing between the 2nd floor and the 1st. 

There was no point anyway. Now with Lindsey so… stubbornly determined. 

“Meet me in the lobby,” You breathed out, not giving her a chance to say anything before you hung up. 

Your heart beat erratically in your chest, and you gripped the railing, trying to calm the storm of butterflies and ice fighting in your stomach. 

You sucked in a deep breath through your nose, counting to four in your head before blowing it out for eight, repeating the cycle until the gray edges of your vision returned. 

A simple phrase shouldn’t set you so on edge. 

You shouldn’t care so much about meaningless words. 

You dropped your head, resting it against the cool wall of the stairwell. 

It was ok that you cared, you reminded yourself. You could hear Clarke’s words in your head. It was normal, natural to have feelings. 

You let out another long breath, debating on leaving Lindsey waiting for you in the lobby and running back up to your room. 

But you couldn’t. 

That would be cruel, and you should at least put up as much effort as Lindsey was. 

Nothing would be resolved if you didn’t, and you couldn’t live in limbo for forever, no matter how much your anxiety said you could. 

While seeing Lindsey in person was a terrifying prospect, it was a step you needed to take. Not for her, but for yourself. 

You didn’t need her to choose you, because you were choosing yourself. And you wouldn’t let fear rule you. 

You wouldn’t let resignation either. 

Tobin was right, you deserved to let yourself have 5 seconds of bravery. 

******

You stared out at the crowd at Providence park, spotted with red and roses and little flecks of pink from the fans who had followed you from LA. 

It was a sight you knew would never get old, even if it sent a little pang through your chest now. 

You remembered the last time you had sat in this box, it was so… different. 

Everything in your universe was falling apart, and you were convinced no one cared. It was the last game of the season, and all you could think about was escaping. Running away to a country where even Emily and Tobin couldn’t hunt you down. 

Now though, here you sat staring at the glinting of the fans in the stadium like it was the light at the end of a tunnel. 

You just hoped it wasn’t a train. 

“It’s kinda weird,” You mumbled, leaning forward and resting both of your elbows on the edge of the box. 

It made you feel almost nostalgic. 

“Hmm?” Lindsey hummed from two seats away from you, her eyes never leaving the field. 

She had been strangely…normal with you since you met her in the lobby. Her smile had been shy, and you did your best not to stare at the little sliver of skin above the low-hanging waist of her sweatpants. 

She held the door for you when you came in the back entrance of the stadium and made small talk all through the 3-minute walk. 

It set you at ease and that fucking terrified you. 

“The last time I was up here, Tobin scored a hatty and now everyone is booing her,” You said, your eyes following the winger as she slid a ball in to Christen, and your nose scrunching when Bixby barely made the save. 

Lindsey snorted, and shook her head, clearly remembering the game you were talking about. “That was a rough game for the Spirit. Rosie was pissed,” 

Your lips tilted up. 

Rosie had been so so spicy, especially during the second half of the game. With the frustration on her side, you couldn’t blame her. 

“Emily almost got a red card because she couldn’t stop her without fouling her,” 

Lindsey shook her head, mirroring your expression. “Rosie is a fucking pain in the ass to defend against,” 

Rosie was a magician on the ball, and even with the Thorns up by 4 in that game, she had been tearing the defense apart. 

“The worst,” You agreed, and a strange look crossed Lindsey’s face. 

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” She picked at a string on her sweatpants, and your eyes zeroed in on the movement. “There were some definite sighs of relief when you weren’t on the roster,” 

It brought you back to where you were. To how… strained things between you and Lindsey were. 

To how it was all your fault. 

She said that she didn’t pity you, but you didn’t believe her. 

The only reason she was doing any of this was because she felt guilty. Your friends had turned against her, and the only way for them to forgive her was for her to try to fix it with you. 

And you were too pathetic to even give her a real chance. 

“I guess I’m a pain in the ass in a lot of ways, huh?”

Her head snapped at the self-deprecating comment, one that she knew stretched much deeper than your soccer-playing ability. 

She knew it wasn’t the perfect time to bring up heavy things, but she couldn’t let the moment pass. 

“You’re not,” Lindsey said vehemently, reaching across the empty seat between you to catch your non injured hand and tangle your fingers together. “I hurt you. You are allowed to process that however, you need to do that. I love you and I will do whatever I can to show you that and to earn my shot with you. I wasted my first one, but I will not waste the second one. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.” 

It was everything you ever wanted her to say. What you had dreamed about her saying for years. It made you feel tingly all over and you were sure that you were blushing. It helped to set you at ease and sent alarm bells ringing in your ears at the same time. 

You tore your eyes away from her, looking back out at the fans. 

Red banners fluttered around the crowd, mixing with the yellows and greens of the stadium like warning signs. 

Like the signs your subconscious had tried to show you the first time around. 

“Don’t,” You bit out, snatching your hand away, pushing yourself up from the stadium chair, and putting as much space between the two of you as you could in the cramped box. You ran your gauzed hand through your hair, ignoring the way it pulled uncomfortably at the strands. 

She paused, watching you with careful eyes like you were a wounded animal backed into a corner. 

“Don’t what?” She asked, keeping her voice level. 

The tone irritated you. 

It reminded you too much of Christen. 

You shook your head, climbing the steps of the box and stepping into the hallway. 

“Y/n wait,” Lindsey called after you. 

But you didn’t. You hung a left and headed off with no particular direction in mind, trusting your feet to take you to a spot you could breathe. 

“Y/n” she called again, her voice closer than it was, but you didn’t stop for her, hanging another right and a left down the maze of hallways. “Where are you going?” 

You didn’t answer. 

Her feet pounded the concrete floor as she raced to catch up with you, but you ignored it. 

You didn’t care if she followed you. 

“Y/n,” She caught your arm, pulling you to a stop and forcing you to look at her. “Don’t what?”

You looked up and met her burning blue eyes. “Don't say things you don’t mean because you think it’s what you’re supposed to do. You might not pity me, but you’re only trying to fix this because you feel guilty or whatever. You’re only saying you love me because you know what will happen if you don’t. I just,” 

You tore your eyes away, stepping as far from her as the small hallway would allow, your back landing heavily against the army-green wall. “I would rather let the hole in my chest kill me than have you pretending to feel things you don’t,” 

She stepped into your space, and you molded yourself against the cool brick. 

“I’m not pretending,” She said, leaning close to you, her eyes boring into yours with fire and passion, and honesty. “I love you Y/n. Not because Kelley sent me a photo or because the team hates me. I’ve been in love with you since we were 18. I was just too much of a coward to admit it. I have fucked this up so badly, I know, but how do I get it through your thick skull that there has never been a moment where I didn’t love you,” 

You swallowed hard, glancing over her shoulder towards the random staff lingering. 

She followed your gaze before all of her attention was back on you. “And this time, I don’t care who knows. You’re my soulmate,” 

And there it was, the moment you had been waiting for since you opened your eyes to see her childhood playground so many months ago. 

“I love you too,” 

The words fell shakily from your lips. A shuttering promise, filled with devotion and heaviness. 

An unspoken Always passed between you. 

“I know,” She nodded once, stepping back from your personal space, and straightening her Office t-shirt. Though she didn’t drop your hand. “Do you wanna watch the rest of the game?”

You swallowed again. “Yeah,” 

Her smile turned shy as she began to lead you back toward the box to watch the rest of the game. “And maybe we can do a movie night or something after?” 

You squeezed her hand in three slow pulses, hoping to slow your racing heart. “Maybe,” 

You didn’t necessarily trust her, but you also weren’t ready for the night to end yet. 

It was a dangerous idea, but the ache in your chest made you hesitant to leave Lindsey. Hesitant to deny her. 

You wouldn’t have to decide until the end of the game anyway. 

******

As it turned out, making the decision to go with Lindsey back to the hotel after the game was… easier than you’d like to admit. 

Just being with her made the lingering throb in your chest ease. It neutralized the burning acid in your stomach and slowly started to thaw the ice in your veins.

The feeling was addictive and so much stronger than the ones you got from the dreams. 

It terrified you, but you were unwilling to stop yet. 

It was like she was a campfire. You needed to be close to her warmth, but you knew too much exposure would leave you smelling like smoke. That getting too close would burn you. 

It was why you had been so hesitant to see her in person. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to deny her. 

You had never been able to deny her. 

But being with her this time felt distinctly different. 

She held your hand throughout the rest of the game, and on the walk back to the hotel. She hadn’t let go until you used the little key card to scan into your room. 

She had taken the double bed that you hadn’t used as you cued up an old USMNT game, kicking her shoes off and settling against the pillows. 

It just felt… odd to have so much space between the two of you, even if you were slightly grateful for it. And while you appreciated Lindsey trying to respect a boundary she was unsure of, it felt… forced. 

You looked away from the screen, and towards Lindsey, your hands opening and closing several times trying to figure out where you were supposed to sit. 

You had 2 options. 

You could either sit beside her on the extra bed, or across from her on the one you had already used. 

While sitting on your bed would give you the solace of not having to fight your instincts, just the idea of sitting with her was making the hole in your chest crackle with the possibility of relief. It was like holding water out to a person trapped in the desert. Like a life raft floating inches from a drowning man. 

She made eye contact with you, gently patting the space beside her, seemingly seeing your struggle. “I won’t bite. I won’t even cuddle you if you don’t want me to. We’re doing this at your pace,” 

You slowly stepped towards her, settling next to her on the bed. You slowly leaned back on the pillows, dangerously close to her arm.

She kept her word and didn’t move a muscle, even as you wiggled beside her trying to get comfortable. 

You sighed, closing your eyes as Alexie Lala’s voice droned on about things you didn’t care about, trying not to think about how warm Lindsey was. 

You took three deep breaths, making your choice. You were going to have to be the one to make the first move. 

You pushed your doubt from your mind and slowly moved your hand towards the best radiating from Lindsey. Your fingers gently descended her arm until you met her hand, and you wound your fingers together. 

Lindsey welcomed the touch, and you shouldn’t have been surprised since you had been holding hands all night, but you were. 

It should have scared you how perfectly the two of you fit together, but it didn’t. 

You had always fit together perfectly. Maybe that was why you were soulmates. 

She squeezed your fingers and shifted so her shoulder could be a more comfortable pillow for your head. 

“Comfy?” She asked when you wiggled again, pressing more tightly against her as you got cozy. 

You hummed, opening your eyes to look at the game on the screen. 

She brought your intertwined hands up and kissed the back of yours. “Good,” 

You both settled into a comfortable silence as the men’s team took the field. 

It reminded you of the thousands of nights the two of you had spent together before, but it didn’t fill you with a sense of dread that it had not too long ago. It didn’t make you feel dirty. 

It was impossible for it to when Lindsey’s warmth was leaching into your skin, melting the edges of the ice that encased your chest. 

The fingers of her free hand gently traced up and down your forearm, barely brushing the gray line on the inside of your elbow every few laps. 

You wondered if she knew that the simple contact sent singles up your arm. Or if she knew that physical touch was the only way to cure the effects of soulmate sickness. 

“Do they hurt?” She asked you as Jamaica cleared the ball and the men’s team stepped up to take a throw-in. 

You blinked, once, twice processing the gentle question. 

“Those don’t anymore. They’re healed,” You said slowly as her finger traced the gray line up past your elbow. “The doc says that the lines will never completely go away through,” 

It got a bit darker as it ascended your arm, but it was nothing compared to the bubbling black it had been. The lines would fade a bit more until they were little more than raised silver skin like any other scar, it would just take time. 

“The others?” Lindsey’s voice was barely above a whisper, as she traced slightly higher up your arm, towards your shoulder. 

You shook your head. “Not as bad as it used to be. The meds help, and…,” You swallowed hard. “And not seeing him with you helps too,”

You felt Lindsey nod, and it went quiet again for another long second. 

“Can I see it?” 

Her voice stayed soft and hesitant, and you fought to keep yourself from going rigid. 

It was a hard thing to explain, that letting people see the still deep purple mark on your chest. That letting Lindsey see it was more intimate than almost anything the two of you had ever done. 

Doing it in dreams was so different than letting her see it in real life. 

And you weren’t really sure how you felt about that. 

You also weren’t sure how you felt about being alone with Lindsey in just a sports bra and shorts. 

“You’ve already seen it,” You mumbled stiffly. 

“I know,” Lindsey agreed, taking a long pause like she was choosing her words carefully. “I just… Can I see it for real?”

You let out a long breath through your nose because you understood the need to see it in real life. 

You didn’t trust the dreams either, but did you trust Lindsey enough to let her see?

You wondered what Clarke would say. What her advice would be? 

It would probably be some shit about following your feelings.

You let out another long breath. 

“Ok,” You whispered, your voice sounding more unsure than you wanted to show. 

“Ok,” Lindsey repeated, squeezing your hand once, before letting go. 

It was a long second before you sat up, carefully scooting away from her and turning so you were facing her. She pulled her feet up so she was sitting criss cross and shuffled forward so your knees were touching. 

Your eyes met hers. The blue in them seemed to smolder as they stared into yours, and for the first time in a very long time, nerves bubbled in your stomach. 

You carefully pulled your shirt over your head, revealing the dark bruise that still sat right above your heart, and the receding spider web of veins that sprouted out from it. 

Lindsey’s eyes remained locked with yours until you nodded once, giving her consent to look. It was only then that they trailed down your face, and towards the network of gray and purple that dotted the skin of your neck, deepening as it approached the space right above your heart. 

Her lip disappeared between her teeth as she finally landed on the epicenter of your pain. 

“Can I?” She asked, lifting her hand, but not touching you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but nodded once again, having already expected the request. 

She nodded again, and very slowly extended her arm. 

Her hand was warm as it landed on your shoulder, very gently touching the graying lines near your neck. Even the gentle press had a shudder running down your spine and goosebumps appearing up and down your arms. 

“Good?” Lindsey asked, her eyes darting back up to yours. 

You nodded stiffly. “Good,” 

She hummed, dragging her hand down the graying line towards the black mark above your heart. 

She flattened her palm against it, and it was like a lantern in the dark. Like an instant balm for the ever-present sting that accompanied each heartbeat. 

You were sure she could feel how fast it was beating, like a runaway freight train threatening to explode out of your chest. 

You shivered at the feeling, so much more potent than it was in the dreams. 

It tingled and burned and filled you with a sense that everything was going to be ok (even if the rational part of your brain knew everything was so far from it), but it was different because this time, it was real. 

“What does it feel like?” 

“Hm?” You blinked up at her, realizing that your faces were merely inches apart. 

Her eyes lifted from the little lines slowly receding on your chest to meet yours again. “I feel the warmth in my hand, but what does it feel like for you?” 

“It’s hard to explain,” You said, squinting, your tongue poking from between your teeth. “It’s like a lantern lighting a dark abyss. Like a warm cup of tea after a freezing rain game,” 

She nodded once, looking away from you and back towards the web of black on your chest. “I’m sorry I did this,” 

“I know,” You smiled gently at her. “I forgive you,” 

The truth was that you had forgiven her long ago, even if you didn’t trust her. 

Her head bobbed in time with her throat. “I just felt like I needed to say it again. I was just so in my head that I wasn’t letting myself feel,” 

Your lips turned down, and your eyebrows furrowed. “And what do you feel?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, shy and hesitant. “I feel like I want to kiss you,” 

You tilted your chin so your lips were centimeters apart. “What’s stopping you?” 

She sighed softly. “We’re doing this at your pace, and I don’t want to push you. You should be able to forgive me in your own time, without outside pressure from me,” 

You felt more warmth bloom in your chest, spreading from the point the two of you were touching, all the way up to your ears. 

It filled you with fondness and… love. It made you feel like she cared, and you wanted so badly to believe that she did. 

And maybe this time you did believe her. 

Trust would take time to earn, and for the first time in a very long time, you were willing to give her the chance to earn it. 

This time you had the power to change the ending. 

“Kiss me,” You murmured.

She leaned in the rest of the way, and your eyes slid closed as her lips pressed very gently into yours. 

It was different than the kisses you had shared before, more reminiscent of the ones between you in France before the world of expectations and responsibilities had been placed on your shoulders. 

It was softer, more hesitant, but passionate nonetheless. 

You saw fireworks behind your eyelids and all your nerves stood on end. Your lips fit perfectly together, moving in a dance that only they knew. 

It was everything you had ever wanted and more, and it was everything you wanted for the rest of your life. 

Things weren’t perfect between the two of you. You both had scars and pain and things that you needed to solve with each other, but you knew that they would heal. Together you would be able to move past your past and make your future solid. Together you would figure it out. You would make it, together, interwoven for all eternity. 

Always

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #lindsey horan imagine #lindsey horan x reader #my 20000 word soulmate fic

[glitchtricks94]

Bondage Blurbs: Demon Slayer Edition

Shinazugawa Sanemi, Rengoku Kyojuro x AFAB!Reader

I hath fallen back into Demon Slayer thanks to @nymphoheretic's works on the Hantengu Clones, so I feel like I should return the favor and see just what my writing muscles can do for writing characters I adore and have a love hate relationship with. Take a guess who has the pure adoration. First off, lots of flash here, this is an 18+ post. I repeat, this is an 18+ post, so, below the keep reading line is adult content. And I even added the fancy border for this because I'm not kidding. Reader discretion is advised. With all that said, kick back, relax and enjoy~ -Glitchtricks

Kyojuro adores tying his beloved flame up, wrapping them like a present for him to enjoy undoing over and over again, so one could only imagine the Flame Hashira's delight when you told him you enjoyed bondage. He swears he's not smiled so bright in ages!

Carefully weaving the red ribbon and golden ropes over your body, Kyojuro can't help the warm smile and soft praises that spilled from his lips as his fiery eyes trailed over you while his calloused hands worked away.

He gently laid the robes over your chest, squeezing your skin pleasantly, as if he imbued the material with his love for you, the ribbon's cool fabric being wrapped over your nipples and rubbing them gently, sending shivers up your spine. He trailed to rope and ribbons in such a way that held you in place in a mating press, arms firmly laced behind your back, leaving you bare to him. Kyojuro admired his handiwork, his gaze trailing over you with a pleased glimmer in his eyes. The way everything squeezed your pretty curves, your saccharine sweet smile on your flushed face, you looked like the greatest present the man has ever received in his entire life.

"You looks glorious, firefly." He cooed, leaning down to start lavishing your body with kisses. "Thank you for letting me do this to you, you have no idea how much this means to me." He added, beginning to discard his own clothes, revealing more skin to you. "Anything for you, Kyo. I like being tied up like this, I feel safe." You replied, ever so sweetly, making your beloved's chest swell with joy and adoration. "That will always, always be my goal, my love." Kyojuro replied, looking at you tenderly as he placed his hand over his heart. For as loud a man he was, you always seemed to quell even the most deafening yells that emit from his chest. He almost felt as though you would vanish if he was too loud during these intimate moments. "You always succeed, darling." You replied, letting out a satisfied hum as he pressed his lips to yours tenderly, eyes closing to taste the sweetness that always seemed to cling to his lips. Raising to his full height on his knees again, Kyojuro continued to discard his clothing, all up until you were greeted with the luscious sight of his large, muscular frame and erect cock. You couldn't stop eying him while biting your lips. He appreciated that side of you; you never were ashamed to look at him during moments like these. Leaning back over you, Kyojuro braced himself on his elbows and kissed you once more, perfectly slotting himself between your legs, which, as he had calculated, rested comfortable on his broad shoulders as he lined himself up with your dripping sex. Pulling away again, he looked down at you with a smirk, his eyes lidded. "Are you ready for me, firefly?"

Sanemi was never really one for bondage, if anything, he was more for vanilla sex, just using his body to make you lose any ability to think from how many orgasms he draws out of you. It's a bit of a pride thing, and frankly he just gets pissed, like, why would you want toys or anything like that, is he not enough? You weren't saying that when you came on his fingers this morning, so why the hell are you bringing up bondage? Despite his initial anger though, Sanemi still loves you, and will, begrudgingly, hear you out on your request to be tied up. He tilted his head and narrowed his lilac eyes before a smirk emerged across his scarred face. "Alright, but I'll be doin' what I want during it, got that?" He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Of course, 'Nemi, whatever you want." Oh dear, you are lowkey regretting that now. You gagged again as Sanemi thrusted his cock down your throat again, his hand gripping your hair tightly as he let out a growl, his teeth clenched at how great your tight mouth felt around him. Sanemi certainly fulfilled your wish of being tied up, and he even got a little artsy with it, which surprised you, really! You thought he'd just take one of his belts or one of your obis and tie up your wrist. Your eyes widened when you saw the thin, white braided ropes he had picked out. "Are you just gonna stare at them, or were you just trying to piss me off earlier?" He huffed, glaring at how you were eying the ropes as f he had just performed an act of necromancy. "No, no, not at all! I thought you were going to...actually take this seriously, you hate stuff like this..." "I'm doing this for you, okay? And if we're gonna actually go through with this shit, we're gonna do it right." Sanemi muttered, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Just like that, you remembered why you fell in love with this man all over again. With that, a kiss was shared, you stripped yourself and allowed your boyfriend to get to work. He wove a complicated diamond pattern all across your skin, making sure to squeeze your breasts with the material with some smaller patterns on the skin there, the ropes rubbing against your nipples pleasantly. He had no intention of sinking into your pussy like this though, so he ensured to tie a sizable knot right over your clit so that you still got pleasure while he yanked you around. No one could say that Sanemi didn't think of you. Well, the could, but you'd punch them in the throat as a result. You were yanked back from your thoughts by the sound of one of Sanemi's groans, a telltale sign he was about to cum. He pulled you off his cock at the last second, cutting off his own orgasm, the man looking down at you with gritted teeth and drool streaming down one side of his mouth, his pupils blown. You gazed up at him in a haze, a moan soon being ripped from you as he yanked on the binding in the center of your chest, the knot tied over your clit moving. Sanemi yanked you up and down, making bounce on your knees and stimulating you with just that rope, whines and whimpers belonging to you filling the room; music to his ears as he began to smile evilly at how your slowly unraveled under those damned ropes you begged him for. "Consider this a punishment, princess. You're gonna be cumming on this stupid rope until I decide you've earned my cock back. Let's see how long you last until you realize that I'm better than any fuckin' toy you could ever dare think of."

#kyojuro x reader #kyojuro smut #rengoku kyojuro x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi x reader #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny smut #kny sanemi #kny rengoku #kny reader insert #glitchwrites.notepad

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Take a Chance (Part 1)

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Rating: General (but MDNI)

Summary: Crosshair finally caves and sets up an appointment with Right to Love. He doesn’t expect much out of it, but what he gets is softer and brighter than even he could ask for. 

Warnings: Crosshair angst (because that’s a warning I guess); peep my matchmaker OC Tal, love them dearly; brotherly teasing

A/N: @wolffegirlsunite submitted a prompt about Crosshair at carnivals and I just kinda…ran with it. In this AU, the Citadel never happened, so Echo is not with the Batch.

WC: 3.2k

Crosshair had mastered the art of patience a long time ago. He had to; it was a requirement of his specialization as a sniper. Sitting for long, boring hours in a secured hideout, there had been times on missions where he didn’t move for hours, at minimum. One learned how to be patient when all one had was time to pass. He thrived in those situations. After all, it was what he was made for. 

What he hadn’t yet mastered was the art of civilian life. He’d rather perch in the branches of some scraggly pine on some far-off Mid-Rim world, teeth chattering in his bucket from the cold, than sit here in this waiting room. Despite the facade this damned service had so clearly cultivated to be comforting, he felt on edge, nerves screaming at him. Soft music chimed pleasantly from the speakers hanging from the ceiling corners. Vanilla, warm and inviting, cloyed in his nose. Adorning the walls, right, cheerful posters touted sickeningly saccharine slogans. We’ll help you find your path! and At Right to Love, we’ll make sure your love is right for you!

His upper lip curled in the barest hint of a scowl. Karking hell, why had he let Wrecker talk him into this? 

With a slight shake of his head, Crosshair refocused on the datapad resting in his lap. He was supposed to fill out this questionnaire to let the matchmakers do their job, but all he could think about was the vulnerability of it all. He had to just…give away personal information? Just like that? Kriff, even his brothers had given up getting him to talk about his feelings before he was ready.

Leading him to another worry, one he’d never admit out loud, and certainly wasn’t about to admit to himself. Was he ready for this? 

His first impulse was, yes of course. He’s Crosshair, member of one of the most elite squadrons of clone troopers in the entire existence of the Grand Army of the Republic. Clone Force 99 didn’t back down from challenges, and had a 100% mission success rate. 

Or at least, they did. When the GAR still existed. When the war still raged and when clones’ lives were valued less than dirt. 

He’d answered exactly three of the twenty-five questions so far. The fourth question, “How would you best describe your personality?” presented options that felt so…restrictive. Was he a) shy and reserved, b) expressive and open, c) humorous but private, d) uncomplicated and easy-going, or e) other? 

Crosshair had been labeled as “other” his entire life. Frustration simmered in his chest, hot and annoying. 

Just as he was about to stand, chuck the datapad back at the receptionist, and storm out, the receptionist in question cleared her throat.

“You don’t have to answer every single question, darlin’,” she said, smacking her gum. “That’s just to help us get started.” 

He felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen in spite of himself. “Anyone ever turn in a blank form?”

Her dark eyes met his, narrowed behind square spectacles, before she shook her head with a reluctant grin. “There’s a first time for everythin’. We’re all about firsts here.” 

“Yeah.” He huffed, looking back down at the datapad. The rest of the questions were similarly vague and aggravating as the personality one, but by the time he reached the last one, he was surprised to find that he’d filled in nearly half of the responses. 

Sweeping his gaze across the waiting room once more, he couldn’t help but pick out the imperfections, the way that that one paint stroke lifted some of the first coat underneath there by the corner, or the way that the ceiling tile above him only appeared symmetrical but every third one was slightly shorter, or the way that the receptionist’s eyeliner had one, tiny, nearly imperceptible gap where it had snagged over her skin. He found that the skin around his nail beds was dry and cracked, red and angry—a nervous habit he’d picked up shortly after the war ended. 

Quit stalling, he snarled to himself. 

The receptionist gave him a fleeting smile as he crossed the room to deposit the datapad on her desk. He wished she wouldn’t. 

“One of our case workers will be with you shortly, dear,” she said. 

He returned to his seat, silent, apprehensive. 

  He didn’t have to wait long; at least the receptionist was right about that. Not even fifteen minutes later, a short, kindly individual with a buzzcut and piercings pushed open the faux-wooden door leading to the back. Crosshair appraised their appearance quickly, an old habit. Black eyeliner on their bottom waterline, round, unframed glasses, a black T-shirt with some indie band Cross had never heard of: he hated to admit it, but the sight of someone dressed so casually put him at ease. Whatever he’d been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. 

“Crosshair?” they asked, as if there was anyone else in this damned waiting room. 

Still, Crosshair rose, toothpick clenched between his teeth. Quiet as a wraith, he followed who he assumed would be his case worker down a labyrinth of hallways. Behind a few of the closed doors, the familiar tones of regs’ voices drifted to him, counterpointed by the unfamiliar strains of other case workers. 

At last, his adorned case worker pushed open a door and gestured for Crosshair to enter first.

Slinking past, Crosshair took in every detail at once. Above the corner desk were at least a dozen framed holoscans, most of them featuring his mystery case worker and two others, a beaming brunette woman and a laid-back, dark-skinned man. Crystals of various colors, cuts, and properties sat scattered across the side table nearest the futon; a tapestry arched across the ceiling. One lone plant, a healthy looking thing with glossy castleton green leaves, breathed life into the room from one corner.

“I’m Tal,” the case worker said as they closed the door behind them. “Make yourself comfy. Or don’t. Everything here is under your control.” 

Crosshair shot a glance at Tal, head tilting just slightly, so minutely that Tal probably missed it. He hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the futon, the silky black fabric cushioning him as he tucked his feet up. 

“Tea?” Tal asked. 

Poison, came the immediate, instinctive thought.

“No, thanks,” he said. 

Tal shrugged. “Suit yourself.” As they poured steaming water into a waiting mug, they glanced at him. “So, Crosshair, here’s how this works. I’ll ask you a few questions, you can ask me some, and after our meeting, I’ll get to work matching you to some of our clients, yeah?”

“Fine.” Cross shifted the toothpick between his teeth, the poky bit softened and no longer quite so poky. He’d need to grab a fresh one soon. 

For a moment, Cross simply watched as Tal scooped honey into their tea mug, spoon clinking softly as they stirred the drink. The faint scent of…was that chamomile? drifted to him, and he nearly wished he’d accepted the offer.

Nearly. 

“Let’s start with the basics.” Tal set the mug down on a cork coaster. “Why are you here?”

Crosshair quirked an eyebrow, leveling his best unimpressed stare at Tal—who, to his surprise, matched Crosshair’s energy.

“That’s starting with the basics?”

Tal shrugged. “Would you rather I coerce answers on these blank questions?” They waggled a datapad in one hand. 

Sucking on his teeth, all Crosshair could do was shake his head. 

“Great, because I’m sure you hate having teeth pulled as much as I hate pulling them,” Tal said. “What brings you in?” 

“My brother,” Crosshair said flatly. Not technically a lie.

“And is that Tech, Hunter, or Wrecker?”

He clamped down on the toothpick, the fragile wood snapping. “Wrecker.”

Tal typed on the datapad for a moment. “Got it. So, no other reason, nothing more self-motivated?”

“No.”

With a hum, Tal typed some more on the ’pad before setting it to the side. They took a tentative sip of their tea, a smile of satisfaction curling over their lips. 

“Tell me if I get any of this wrong, m’kay?” Tal said. “The war ends last year. You and your brothers get to live a normal life, and you each try dating. Maybe it works for them, maybe it doesn’t, but it certainly doesn’t work for you. None of the people you go out with can get past the fact that you’re a sniper, or a science experiment, or just an ass. So you stop going out. 

“But your brothers don’t. In fact, one by one, they make their way here, to this very office in fact, find themselves partners, and settle into the cushy civilian life you just can’t wrap your head around. You’re happy for them, because they’re your brothers. But you’re also annoyed by them, because they have what you just can’t seem to find.”

Crosshair bristled at the nonchalance with which this individual, this…observer, read him for filth. Removing the now-shattered toothpick from his mouth, Crosshair forced himself to go through the ritual of discarding the broken one, selecting a fresh one from the pouch at his belt, and slipping the dry wood into the pocket of his cheek.

He avoided Tal’s gaze the entire time. In their calculating gaze, Crosshair saw himself reflected. 

“You got part of it wrong,” he eventually said. “I never tried in the first place.”

And it was true. He’d been…arrogant, more than usual, refusing to even entertain the idea of finding a fulfilling relationship outside of his vode. He’d seen the way people looked at him on the streets, even here in the capital, where no one should stand out. He couldn’t stomach the thought of having to put himself on parade just to find happiness. 

“Well,” Tal said, “I can’t be right all of the time.”

A wry smile twisted Crosshair’s mouth. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad experience after all.

  By the time that Crosshair left the RTL building, his stomach crawled with ants. He couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or excitement or some combination of both, but he couldn’t remember feeling so hopeful in a long, long time. Tal had given him their comm frequency and promised to answer any questions if Cross thought of them; and swore that as soon as they found him a match, they’d let him know. In return, Crosshair had given his word that he would think of an answer to the last question Tal had posed before their time was up. “What kind of date do you want to go on?”

Given that he’d never been on any, and certainly didn’t ingest media that portrayed such things, he hadn’t been able to give an answer. He hadn’t even wanted to lie, instead defaulting to his training, the instilled need to have the entire picture before making a decision. Kark, this meant he had to do research. 

Climbing the stairs to the apartment he shared with his brothers, he took the time to school his expression into its usual blank mask. The last thing he needed was for any of them to catch a whiff of where he’d been. He hadn’t even told Wrecker he would go to the matchmaking service; he’d just…left in the middle of the morning after they had all gone their separate ways. 

He lingered in the hall just long enough to determine who was already home. Judging by the raucous laughter, snide remarks, and grumbling complaints, it seemed all three of them were. 

Great. 

The door slid open and whooshed shut behind him as he stepped over the threshold. From the living room, Wrecker’s head peeked around the corner, a broad grin on his scarred face. 

"Was wonderin’ where you went,” he called. 

Cross ambled to the living room, pushed Wrecker back out of the way with one thin hand on his brother’s face. Laughing, Wrecker over-sold the push and landed squarely on his ass on the tile floor. 

Plopping into the beige, worn-out recliner, Cross sighed, running a hand through his short silver hair. He’d need a haircut soon. 

“Out,” he finally answered.

Hunter fixed him with a look, eyebrows scrunched. “‘Out’?”

Crosshair nodded once. Kriff, he should have just gone to his room, avoided this whole mess, but he knew his brothers; once they got on the trail of something, they couldn’t let it go. 

Wrecker lightly kicked the recliner—thought a light kick from him meant that the chair still slid a few inches across the floor with an uncomfortable screech. Hunter winced from his spot on the couch. 

“Did you go you-know-where?” Wrecker asked, voice in a stage-whisper, as if Hunter and Tech weren’t right kriffin’ there. 

Cross rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I believe Wrecker is referring to the matchmaking service known as Right to Love, which has helped clones find life partners,” Tech interjected with a glance up from his datapad. “A service to which you have been incredibly averse.”

“Hey, I thought I was convincing!” Wrecker’s voice dripped with indignation. “Wasn’t I, Cross?” 

Crosshair cut a glance at his older brother. “No.”

“Aww, Cross, you’re no fun,” Wrecker whined. He stood and lumbered to the kitchen. 

Crosshair met Hunter’s gaze. Knowing his brother could probably smell the karking vanilla candle and chamomile tea on his clothes, he had tried walking through exhaust vents to douse the scent. But the way that Hunter’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, set Crosshair’s heart sinking.

“Well,” Hunter said with a knowing look, “wherever you went, hope you had a good time.”

The rest of the evening passed quietly, the four of them settling into their usual routines. Dinner ate, holoseries watched, old stories swapped, the clock ticked by with an aching slowness. Even as his brothers recounted the latest triple-date ideas they’d had, he couldn’t help but fixate on the building anticipation in his limbs, a jittery, twitchy feeling that had him on edge. All he wanted to do was shut himself in his room and research. 

As soon as the clock showed 10 PM he bid his brothers goodnight and forced himself to walk normally to his room. The second the door slid shut, he rushed to his desk and booted up his datapad, one of Tech’s old ones. 

While the device blipped to life, he lowered himself into his desk chair and gazed at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, cast in ghostly blue from the ’pad homescreen. Eyes wide with apprehension, Crosshair almost didn’t recognize himself. He forced himself to look beyond the mirror image and focus on the scintillating lights of the ecumenopolis. Skyscrapers reached for the stars, lights dotting every floor in a mockery of the galaxy that laid beyond the polluted skies. Speeders whirred past, traffic lanes cruising steadily. Somewhere out there, came the unbidden thought, somewhere out there was the person for him. 

He snapped the datapad shut. 

Someone being right for him meant he was right for somebody, and that thought alone was too much to bear.

He went to bed trying to ignore the heated worm of jealousy burrowing into his spine at the sounds of his brothers’ laughter.

  The next morning, he awoke to the insistent blip-blip-blip of his comlink. Peering with bleary eyes at the tiny screen, it took his sleep-addled brain a moment to parse together why an unsaved frequency was contacting him this early. A glance to the time revealed that it was, in fact, mid-morning. Still. Early for him.

A few possible matches, the message read. Would you like to come in and chat about them, have me send you their profiles, or just pick for you? 

His eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake, as the message sunk in. Sitting upright in bed, he hesitated over his reply, thumbs dancing aimlessly over the keypad. This was sooner than he expected. The fact that there was more than one match made his stomach lurch—there was no way that was right.

A few? was what he ended up writing back. 

Correct, came the reply. Then three bouncing dots appeared, Tal typing another message. There’s no rush. You’re in control here. 

The reminder did little to calm Crosshair’s racing thoughts. Looking over at his reflection in the window, he grimaced at himself. He’d gone to sleep with his clothes on, his short hair spiked up on one side of his head from the awkward sleeping position he’d been in, and blanket marks criss-crossed his face. He at least needed a solid fifteen minutes to look put together, and then hopefully he would feel awake enough to compose a reasonable reply.

And so, fifteen minutes later, he perched on the edge of the living room recliner, comlink in hand as he stared down at the blinking cursor. He’d been given choices. So few people gave him choices, at least before the war ended. He decided he liked having options. 

So absorbed in wracking his brain for a coherent response, he completely missed the tell-tale sounds of Wrecker sneaking up behind him until it was too late. His brother snatched the comlink out of his grasp. Cross reached for his brother, but Wrecker was faster than he looked and darted to the other side of the couch, nimble as a Nexu. 

“Wrecker!” Crosshair growled. “Give. It. Back.”

Wrecker’s belly laugh echoed off the walls. “You’ve been actin’ weird since you got home. I wanna see why.” He glanced down at the comlink, lips moving as he silently read the messages to himself, then his mismatched eyes widened. 

“You did go you-know-where!”

Crosshair sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I say that I did, can I have my comlink back?”

“Maybe.”

“Kark, fine. Yes, I went. Now, give it back.” This time, as Cross strode forward to nick the comlink back, Wrecker let him, a ear-splitting grin breaking over his face. 

Cross squinted, unease seeping into his veins at the mirthful glint in his brother’s eyes. “What did you do?”

He whipped the comlink up to his face and glared at the screen. There, in his latest sent messages: Pick for me! 

Chuckling, but already backing away, Wrecker flashed him one final smirk before tearing down the hallway to his room. Crosshair sighed, shoulders deflating. Kark it all to hell, now he’d never hear the end of it. 

The comlink bli-bli-b-b-blipped in his grasp as several messages came through at once. Groaning, he collapsed into the couch, head in his hands, determined to ignore the damned device, but as the notifications continued, he ground his teeth and peeked. 

A torrent of messages from the group chat with his vode. 

Crosshair’s going on a date!!! 

I could have told you that. -Tech 

Proud of you, vod’ika. 

Does this mean we can go on QUADRUPLE dates!?!?!?!?

Calm down, Wrecker, let the man actually meet the person he’s being set up with before you start planning. 

We’re gonna have so much fun!!!! 

I can see why Crosshair chose not to reveal this to us. -Tech 

And at the bottom of the notifications, one lone message from Tal: Great. I’ll send you information about your match as soon as it’s confirmed. Thank you for trusting me with this, Crosshair. 

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #The Bad Batch #prompt response

[shurisneakers]

bridges break (i)

Summary: steve shuts himself away. you pull him along on a trip of a lifetime in an attempt to reconnect. great plan! except there's one big secret he's keeping from you that could change the course of your entire relationship, and there's no greasy stack of diner pancakes in the country big enough to hide behind.

(road trip!au, best friends to lovers)

Warnings: angst, mentions of death and violence, nightmares (?), mental health issues and disorientation, ptsd, swearing. lemme know if i missed anything and I'll tag it.

A/N: TAKE 2 MFS. a tarot reader lady on youtube told me to stop pushing and finally publish this fic lol. to my beloveds: tanya, ayesha, and chips ahoy traitor. thank you. ily.

pls know that this is my lil fic in my lil corner of the internet don't come at me if you don't like it, just block me <3

Steve’s legs dangle languidly off the concrete shore. His palm should be pressed to the ground, keeping his balance, but they instead defiantly clasp around an old worn-out sketchbook. His fingers nimbly capture ships on the horizon, waves lapping at the wall several feet below him and the orange of the evening reflecting off of rusted metal.

He looks up for a moment when a horn blares, loud and good. A smile slips past as he snaps his notebook shut and places it beside him, clenching his eyes shut and deeply inhaling the saltiness in the air.

Life is warm. Life is stripped down to its bare essence and still, life is good.

Steve jerks awake.

For months he expected nightmares to drag him out of his sleep, heaving and wide-eyed.

For months they never arrive, leaving him with the saccharine sweetness of the sun’s heat on his skin and legs stretched over the harbour.

Decidedly, it is worse.

____

He's seen those apartments in the catalogues, on TV shows and more. Grey, with furniture placed methodically only where it was required. A fake plant to spruce it up, one painting adding just one colour-- maybe a yellow, or an orange-- amidst the whites and blacks.

He's always thought it looked too sanitised. Like an office, or the boardrooms he spent most of daylight in. You couldn't possibly live in a home where everything felt like a touch away from being corrupted; too clean, like no one had ever lived in it.

But mostly, he always thought it looked lonely.

His apartment was filled- and remained in the process of it, too- with knick-knacks. Posters of movies he hadn't yet seen and of ones from the past that he had, paintings from local artists selling on the street, stuff he'd wrestled back from the museums. They'd called it artefacts, Steve had always just called it his old notebooks and his mother's clay sculptures. Those rested on the mantle.

Nothing had been added to the house in months.

"Captain."

Steve blinks, long.

He lifts his eyes to the person opposite to him, dark tailored suit and pinned back hair, greying prematurely.

"Yes?" he asks, ring finger still covering his mouth as his palm holds up the weight of his jaw.

"You haven't said a word since you got here," she replies with a poisonously sweet smile.

"Was just listening to what everyone had to say," Steve lies, and it's the first of many he'll tell today.

A panel. Steve’s on a panel of experts. Security experts. He doesn't even fucking know why-- he's never been very good at predicting which new being was going to fall out of the sky and try to kill all his friends.

"Nothing to add?" Though her tone is friendly, her eyes unsettlingly held no emotion.

"Have a feelin' you all know what I'm gonna say," he replies.

There's a sigh at the end of the long table, clearing one's throat from the other. Steve's stare remains steadfast.

“Captain Rogers. Steve," she-- Councilwoman Murray, he suddenly remembers-- says with a tick in her voice, pleasantly. "What we're proposing-"

"I know. I heard you," he says, calm as ever. "You want to set up a base in space with weapons of mass destruction in case an event like the Blip were to happen again. While I appreciate your patience, Councilwoman, here's where you're going to have to put up with me because I'm gonna tell you what I've been sayin' every single time we've met: it doesn't make sense."

"It is for international peace," she sighs.

It became very clear in the first meeting that his beliefs don’t align with the rest of them, but they've committed and so has he. No matter how many people slid him deals under the table or offered him positions like president, his opinion wasn't going to shift.

"A base that falls under American jurisdiction, run by American soldiers, using American produced weapons, serving under the orders of an American government, serving on the basis of, and I'm quoting your proposal here, threats against the citizens of the United States of America." Steve arches a brow. "Doesn't sound real international to me, especially when you're planning on vetoing anyone who doesn't agree. Just a scare tactic to the rest of the world."

Another suffering sigh. He can see a smile threaten to creep up on Mona’s face.

"Besides, it's quite the budget you've allocated to this project," he continues, pushing forward the document. "I think it'd be better spent on the millions of people you say you're glad are back. Last I heard, they’re still waiting on the resources you've promised."

With the last word, there's a faint sense of deja vu warm in his chest. He's sure he's brought this up elsewhere, but he can't pinpoint where. It’s hard to remember how he gets from one place to another. Or is it hard to pay attention? He can’t tell the difference anymore, it didn’t matter much.

Years, he has to correct himself.

Everything looked the same as it did six years ago. The last thing that he remembers adding to the decor was a framed picture of you and him at a baseball game before it all went to shit in Germany. That sat on the mantle, too.

He walks past it every morning, diverting his eyes to the kitchen before he catches sight of it and the pit forms in his stomach again. Still, he can't find it in himself to remove it.

Steve drags a razor across his cheek. It cleanly wipes away the foam, leaving behind clear skin, neat. Some days he just used soap when he couldn't open the shelf and reach for the shaving cream.

He turns his head down to slosh the razor around in the water. He remembers when he used to like the sound, thought it was fun.

There is red when he lifts his head back up to the mirror. Piercing red.

“It’s not that easy, Rogers.”

“Isn’t it?” Steve shoots a glance at the head of the table. "Seems pretty damn easy to me to decide what the money should go towards, and it's not the next tax write-off for the megalomaniac who's funded the doughnuts for this meeting."

The member’s jaw tightens and he sinks back into his seat again. The room’s quiet, an amalgamation of awkward stares and rolling eyes.

Because of course, Steve didn’t understand the problem. Steve didn’t understand the politics of it all.

Steve's just there 'cause Captain America has to be.

There's a thin line of blood when he lifts his head back up to the mirror. It races from about half his cheek down to his jaw, bright crimson changing to a dull red as it dilutes.

Steve stares at it for several moments. His watch ticks, reminding him that he may be frozen but the world was still spinning around him. But it was 5am and he's got nowhere to be for at least three hours.

When he drags his stare away from the nick and to his eyes in the mirror, he remember how the air used to get sucked out of the room. The same clocks used to stop ticking.

There was nothing there. He was not there. It was empty and he looked back at himself, tired eyes and glowing skin.

But now everything goes on as it did before. There is still nothing there, not even him. The air is still heavy in the bathroom and the watch keeps ticking.

Steve uses his thumb to wipe away the blood, and keeps going.

“Coffee, Captain Rogers?”

It’s a steady little routine they’ve fallen into. Mona asks him, always at precisely the right time, whether he would like a cup as they walk towards one of the many assigned conference rooms that day.

He told her yes once, and she committed his order to heart. It wasn't a big feat-- black, with no sugar and no cream-- but he appreciated it all the same. He carelessly downed it like a shot, ignoring the s as it goes down his throat.

Steve gently turns her down today, however. She quickly rats off a list of people he has to meet, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose in the process. He nods dimly, knowing that she'd send him a text with all the details anyway.

“You have to meet with Mr Langstaff at 12, and Mr Estrada at 1:30 to decide your press release. Y/N demands that you pick up the phone, and you have dinner with Mrs Madron at 8 at the Ritz about the ambassadorship.”

Steve's ears perk up, head snapping towards her. “What was that?”

“You have dinner at 8 with Mrs Madron at the Ritz,” Mona repeats slowly, deliberately.

“No, before that.”

She flips a page back on her notepad before reciting, “Y/N demands that you pick up the phone.”

Christ. 

Steve swiftly skims through his phone, brows furrowing when he finds nothing. It takes a second to hit that if you were to call him, it probably wouldn't be to his work number. The work phone had a few texts and missed calls he hadn't responded to yet. He would be meeting them in the next few days anyway, what was the damn hurry?

From Y/N

Been a few days, you around?

From Y/N

Mona says you're busy so I'm not gonna call, but I left a message with her. Don't feel pressured to respond immediately, it was mostly a joke

Fuck.

From Y/N

Just lemme know if you're good

He curses softly under his breath, before pressing a button and holding the phone up to his ear.

He ignores the people walking past, some doing a double take when they see him standing in the middle of the hallway on a random weekday.

“Y/N,” he says in greeting the second you pick up. "Hey."

“Steve,” you reply equally as quick. “You all right?”`

“'M sorry, it's been a while since I checked this phone. I‘m fine.”

He can hear you exhale slightly at the other end, and the snap of elastic on your skin. He waits patiently outside the conference room for the people to start filing in, but he estimates another ten minutes before they do.

“Sorry, Stevie, didn’t mean to worry you,” you say, prying the gloves away from your hand, “It's just-- the last time you missed a couple'a calls, I had to find out you’re enemy of the state from the receptionist.”

“No, I get it. I forgot to respond, it's my bad.” He keeps his phone on silent these days. The only communication he really responds to with urgency is what Mona deems critical.

 “We still meeting up for coffee today?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose hard. Of all the things to slip his mind in the middle of all the legal jargon and fundraising efforts.

He sneaks a glance at his watch, and then back at the meeting room where an assistant was placing glasses of water in front of seats, and back at his watch.

“We don’t have to, if you’re not up for it,” you remind him in the lingering silence. “I know your schedule is busy these days.”

He had conferences, and dinners, and calls to ignore, and people to scorn, because if he wasn't fighting, then he's gotta be doing more to be helping people out, right?

“4pm, at Whole Latte Love, wasn't it?” His eye catches Mona’s, who swiftly flips through several pages of her notebook to write down his new plan. “I’ll be there.”

“You sure?”

“‘Course.” The corners of his mouth lift softly. "Can't wait."

“All right.” He can hear the smile in your voice. It’d been a while. “See you there.”

The call ends with a soft click. His posture immediately stiffens again.

Mona’s attention is still on the notepad when she says, “Guess that cancels the video call with Jepsen at 4:15.”

______

He pulls the brim of his cap even lower, if that was possible, fully intending to cover up his untrimmed hair. It didn't work very well; whatever was too long for the cap just stuck up in strange angles given how tight the hat was.

The smell of roasting coffee beans was intense, and a little hard to take in. He had been here loads of times before, but those visits had thinned out and the gaps in between each had increased exponentially over the last few years.

When he scours the area, all he sees are booths occupied with people speaking in hushed tones. It serves to remind him again that the world seemed a lot quieter now.

Six years ago, he couldn't take a step down a street without hearing cries for missing sons, aunts, friends. Then, of course, there was silence. Almost deafening, as people slowly picked themselves up, tried to make sense of the life they were living now.

It continued even when the Snapped were back. The parades were loud and the parties even louder but everything seemed muted. Almost like they expected the returned to leave again, cautious about how much energy they spent celebrating something that could disappear in an instant.

The chair scrapes against the linoleum floor, pulling his attention away from his lap.

He doesn't even know when he sat down.

“Please, don’t look so surprised.” You don’t go for a greeting, instead, taking note of the slightly dilated eyes. “Only you would wear a cap indoors and think it’s a good disguise.”

Steve glances around discreetly. “No one else noticed.”

“What, that you look like you want to hide?” You snort, laying all your stuff on the table after taking a seat. “Yeah, they did. Hi, by the way.”

If they did, they didn’t say anything.

"Hi," he says back. "You look good."

You narrow your eyes at him, before your face breaks into a small smile. "I didn't realise disarray and chaos was pleasing to you."

He shrugs. "You make it work."

Your head ducks with a smile and a small shake. “Did you order anything?”

"Not yet."

“Do you want to?” You pour over the menu in front of you even though you’ve been here before with him so many times you know exactly what you want. “Coffee, black, no sugar, no cream?”

Even though he declined Mona on the same offer, he takes you up on yours. It's always been hard to say no to you.

You quickly flag down the waitress, giving her your orders and a big smile and revert back to Steve.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” you say, leaning forward on your elbows. “How’s everything going?”

It hasn’t been on purpose-- well, it was-- but no one had really heard from him in a while.

“You know,” he draws out, “a lot of conversations with a lot of… interesting people.”

“Snobs?" you offer. "Uptight?”

“That's one way to put it.” There’s humour in his words but only a wisp of it on his face. “They’re thinkin’ of holding another carnival in a month.”

“What, like one obnoxious parade wasn’t enough already?”

“That’s what I told ‘em. But elections are coming up and the guy wants as much publicity as they can afford.” He restrains himself from rolling his eyes. “Tell me you're doing better on your side.”

“It’s like middle school all over again, Stevie.” The corner of your lip stretches thin in annoyance. “Ever since the return, everyone’s been fightin’ over desks and projects that we completed while they were gone.”

One of the most reputed labs in the world, some of the most formidable brains of nature and endless arguments over whose table gets to face the window, and who gets to sit nearest to the water cooler for better access to office gossip.

"Jesus," he says, before a familiar voice pinches him. Don't take the Lord's name in vain.

"Gets better."

Steve quirks an eyebrow.

The conversation gets cut short when the waitress sets down a cup in front of him and fills it nearly to the brim. It already smells better than the garbage they serve at the town hall, and he certainly could use a cup to make up for the fifty hours he'd spent awake so far.

"Thank you," he tells her before turning his attention to you. "Better how?"

“Well-- better is actually pretty subjective. Positions are shuffling around, people are moving.” You bite your lip. “They offered me a new job.”

He smiles for the first time that day, a big-toothed grin. "They did?"

"New title. Just fancier words for a person that runs that joint." You blow gently at your beverage, shoulders rising and falling nonchalantly. "Pays real well. Lot more access to resources, grants. Everything."

"Sounds like a dream," he says carefully, noting the lack of eye contact.

“I’m not sure if I’m gonna take it, though."

There it is. “Why?”

“Don't know if I want to." You shrug. "They only floated it by me a while ago, and it's pretty under wraps, so I have time. Don't have to answer 'em right away."

"Is there something going on?" If he'd somehow managed to miss it while doing God knows what, he'd never let himself forget it.

"No, there's nothing," you reassure. "I just don't know if I wanna do it."

Steve inclines his head. You expertly dodge it with a clearing of your throat. 

“Sam told me the new compound’s been coming up okay.” God, he hadn’t seen Sam since the time he came back from returning the stones to their rightful place and that had been a few months ago.

“Yeah, almost done, actually. Most of the stuff’s been moved already.” 

All the way across the country, far away from New York and its bi-annual alien attacks. Pepper had had enough after the compound got wrecked again, ordering for a complete shift to preserve whatever was left from the destruction.

“Do you think I can score a designated parking spot?”

“You can try."

"Or you can." You grin at him. "Put in a word for me."

Steve clicks his tongue. “Don't think it'd do any good. No special privileges, even for employees.”

“Damn it,” you curse under your breath and he lets out a small chuckle. “You think they’d throw free parking in with the healthcare.”

 "Did you get yourself checked up?" She eyes him, top to bottom.

"Bucky had a look."

"So, that's a no, then," she says flatly. "When was this?"

"Two days ago."

"And you're completely all right?"

"Steve?"

He forcefully zeroes his focus back on you. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Your head quirks, but you let go of it a second later.

"I asked how you were." You twirl a stirring rod around your hot chocolate, letting its warmth seep into your palms through the cup as you hold it up. “If you were holdin’ up okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been good," he says, lips stretched into a tight smile. “Keeping myself occupied.”

 Steve purposely takes a long sip of his coffee, avoiding the furrow of your eyebrows. It makes his stomach lurch a little, and he raises his cup to his lips again to avoid thinking about it too much.

“You get any time off at all?”

“Sometimes.” Before you can question, he counters, "Do you?”

"I've had vacation days buildin' up for years now. Got nowhere to use 'em." Your eyes dart about the shop before landing on him. "Which is actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

Steve peers back in question, setting the cup down.

“What if I were to ask you-” you begin casually “-if you’d wanna maybe get away for a while.”

He only waits for you to continue.

“I was thinking we could take a road trip.”

A road trip?

Steve voices exactly that.

“We’ll get a car, drive it down to wherever you wanna go. Texas, Washington-” you speak a little faster, leaning forward to take his hand in yours “-hell, even fuckin’ Florida, I don’t care. I’ll plan it out, I’ll take care of everything."

His eyes flit down your hand on his, swallowing thickly. A break. A break. The idea makes his head spin and a laugh bubble out of him incredulously. But as soon as it arrives, it dissipates, leaving in its wake hesitancy and 'I'm sorry, I don't know if I can'.

“Why?” he asks instead, to squander any outright denial.

Why? He wants to smack himself in the head. Because best friends do that. Best friends take road trips together and host dinner parties and tell each other what’s on their minds and don't hide things, life-changing things.

You cage your bottom lip between your teeth, gaze softening. “I miss you.”

Steve feels the familiar sickness in his stomach, the same pit that forms every time he walks past the framed picture of you both in the morning.

“A road trip,” he repeats, testing it out for himself.

“A month, you and me. We're not leaving tomorrow or something, don't worry. Still gotta apply for leave and take care of some stuff, it'll take a while." Your eyes brighten when he doesn't immediately shoot it down. “I’ll even let you pick the music.”

“My taste isn’t that bad," he deflects offhandedly.

You give him a half-smile in response. “What d’ya say, Stevie?”

“A month?” Steve asks again, knowing that he was about to send Mona into an absolute panic.

“Just one," you swear.

A road trip. Across a country he was named after, one that he had never seen, save for in a state of destruction and despair.

"I'll have to check," he says. "Can I let you know?"

It's like you deflate, only by a minuscule amount but he catches it.

"Of course. No pressure, okay? It was just an idea."

"I know," Steve says quickly, flipping his hand so that it covers yours instead. "I promise I'll see what I can do."

You nod, a little uncertain before a smile overtakes your face.

It isn't a no. It isn't a flat-out refusal but he knows. He’s been pulling away and this is another attempt atit.

A cruel part of his mind says that it’s easy, it makes it easier for him and you later on.

"Something to eat?" you query, settling back into your seat. "I could go for some food."

The logical part says it’s because he’s a damn coward.

__________

Day slips into night and night slips into early morning faster than he anticipates.

If he didn't sleep, he didn't have to relive it all over again and the choice, therefore, was glaringly simple.

His phone shudders to let him know there's only 15 percent of battery left. Only then, when his neck cranes to reach around for his charger does he notice the time.

4:13am.

Steve stares at the phone for a while.

The light hadn't even come in yet, but with all the blinds in his house closed, he doubts they would have.

He blinks when he feels the familiar burn in his eyes.

4:15am.

Then he's made slowly aware of the dull ache in his neck he can easily attribute to sitting in the wrong position for too long. 

Did he eat dinner?

4:18am.

Steve stares at the lock screen. An urge suddenly tugs at his brain.

Change it, or change his phone, or remove the cover. Or throw it at a wall.

By the time he locks it again, it reads 4:21am.

He thinks it's good enough to get a shower in.

__________

"A road trip?"

"Yeah." Steve rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"Thought you left that life behind with your plastic dinner plate."

Steve winces at the thought of his ill-fitting velcro suit. “Shut up.”

"Suppose your metal dinner plate deserves the same honour," Bucky muses, looking down at something off-screen. "Are you getting a tour bus?"

"Just a car, m'afraid," Steve says wearily. "Maybe on the European leg."

"Tell Y/N it broke my whole heart when I didn't receive an invite in the mail for this trip."

Steve sighs. "Might wanna hold onto your tissues. I'm not even sure I'm going." 

"And why the hell not?"

"I don't know." He squints when Bucky ducks out of view, leaving him open to the attack of bright daylight through the phone. "I'm not sure."

"About what?" Bucky yells to be heard from off-screen.

"Got work to do."

Steve chews on his lip, letting his eyes close for a second in the silence.

There's a loud thud, and Steve opens his eyes to Bucky dropping a stack of files on the table in front of him. Brown, some sealed and others with corners softened from overuse.

"You're avoiding it," Bucky says flatly.

Steve's eyebrows furrow, more so in indignation than anything. "I am not."

"Shut the fuck up, Rogers," his best friend of many-- almost too many, he's beginning to think-- years tells him without even thinking twice. "What's your excuse this time, huh? Back pain? Senior's night at the country club?"

"Jesus Christ, Bucky."

"When's the last time you took a vacation?" Bucky's image is clear through the phone with no pixelation whatsoever. Steve can't imagine it's the same from his end, what with the crappy WiFi and sitting in the darkness of his bedroom.  

He blows out a breath. "Well, if you count th-"

"If you say the time you were frozen, I'm gonna hang up."

Steve shuts his mouth.

Bucky pauses to read something and Steve takes the opportunity to kick off the shoes he hadn't bothered removing before laying down.

Bucky peers up at the screen for a second. "D'you know where the-"

"Manila folder. Under the testimonials list," Steve completes.

He doesn't even look surprised, just nods and picks up the correct file before flipping through it.

"Have you gone through them all?"

"Should I?" Bucky asks wearily. "I mean, I lived through them, y'know."

Steve sighs, scratching his cheek, wincing when he comes across the tiny scab. "You need to go through the files, Bucky."

"I'm kidding," Bucky clarifies with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think people would cut me some slack after being imprisoned for sixty years, but no. Can't joke about torture, can't joke about forgetting what I had for breakfast."

Steve stares at him through the phone.

"It was eggs," he says slowly. "I had eggs. And juice. Orange."

The thin sheets rustle under Steve as he sits up straight. "This is why I'm not going on that trip."

Bucky drops the file he was holding with a loud scoff. "Now hold on there, Rogers. Don't you fuckin' act like you've got babysitting duty.."

It should be too early there for Bucky to be this confrontational and it was definitely too late for Steve to argue back. He makes a mental note to call him at midnight next time, but the bastard would probably be up and about then too. He wonders if Bucky ever sleeps.

"I'm not." Steve exhales. "I'm not. I'm just not going to leave you in the middle of your trial prep, Buck."

"In the middle of?" Bucky voices back incredulously. "There isn't even a trial yet and there is nothing more left to prep."

"There's gotta be more-"

"But there isn't," Bucky cuts him off. "Steve, we’ve been at this for years. We've gone through everything. Murdock's done it thrice, Nelson's done it, like, six times, bless his soul. Look at this file, Rogers. I've been through it twice since last night."

Steve's own copy of all the material sat at his desk, highlighted and annotated. The way the case was being dealt with was unusual, but the case itself was unusual. He didn't really know enough about the legal system to argue either.

"The only reason we're waiting is so that I can take some time off before we let the government know I'm here," he reminds. "Otherwise we're done, we just gotta get my ass back to the States and we're ready to go."

Steve bites the inside of his lip, out of Bucky's sight. The angle isn't very flattering. He's long given up on trying to look presentable.

"It's not right."

"Look, Steve." Bucky picks up a file again. "You've done enough. I can handle a month."

"A month and a half, maybe."

"Even better." He gives him a sly smile. "Shuri says if she has to see your dumb face moping around here anymore she's gonna get you banned from entering the country."

Steve rolls his eyes. "I don't mope."

"Sure ya don't. Gettin' sick of it m'self, gotta tell you," Bucky says blankly. "T'Challa's got all these people working on the case. Figuring out a timeline. Once we tell the authorities I'm here, I either gotta surrender myself or get extradited. Either way, I won't be back for another few months at least."

Steve says nothing.

"Go on your little road trip. Stop worrying 'bout me." Bucky shifts in his seat. "Technically I'm on vacation, too."

Steve says nothing.

"Once I'm back, you can help me move into my jail cell, how about that?"

Steve's silence only intensifies.

"You're a ray of sunshine," Bucky says. "Love how you can take a joke."

"Bucky."

"Steve," he mocks, voice low. "I've been on my own since '45. I can handle it."

Even if he doesn't mean it like that, Steve feels an ache shoot through him in embarrassment. Bucky doesn't notice; he probably didn't even realise what he said.

"Plus, it's not the stone ages. I'll call you if I need anything, but I'm tellin' you, there's nothing. You've seen all the evidence. Only thing that's left is prepping for the stand, and they're only doing it after the therapist gives them the go-ahead to start poking in there." His index finger points to his temple.

Bucky's hair had grown long enough to curl lightly at his shoulder blades. He usually kept it tied up and out of his face but it hung loose today, forcing him to push back strands that kept covering his eyes as he read. Even through the phone, Steve could tell he looked better, dark circles faded significantly.

"They'll call you too. Grill your ass 'bout how much you love me."

"I don't."

"Should be easy then," he replies breezily, leafing through a folder. “Did you know I was apparently in Paris at some point? You’d think I'd remember the tower, but no. Turns out I just got stabbed.”

“Buck,” Steve says sternly.

“Sorry, sorry.” He holds up the file. “I got shot too.”

"Bucky."

"Just go." Bucky grins. "You can come back here and look at all these fun numbers.”

Steve shakes his head, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes. The last two times he'd been to Wakanda, he had nothing to do. He met Bucky's goats. Ate a tomato he grew (it was still a little green but Bucky was damn proud of it. Best tomato Steve’d ever eaten). The rest was the same as the last few visits.

"If you don't wanna go for some other reason-" Bucky sneaks him a glance -"then don't. But don't let it be 'cause of me. Hell, I'd join too if I wasn't across an ocean. And gotten an invite."

He thinks it’s something to consider once Bucky can walk freely.

“You’re not doing a bad thing, Rogers," Bucky adds, tone a little more gentle this time. “You’re not a bad person. Stop beating yourself up about this and just go.”

Wasn’t he? He wasn’t a good person, that’s for sure. 

Who the fuck even is he anymore?

"You sure?" Steve asks warily, the unease still lapping at him. 

"Get me a souvenir," Bucky says. "Bet it'd look great next to my prison bed."

___

"Captain?"

Steve's eyes snap towards the person in front of him. Dark suit, hair brushed back.

"Yes?" he asks again and ignores the feeling that he's done this before.

"I asked if you'd gotten the email for the fundraiser."

Steve's eyes glance towards his left. It's almost like Mona reads his mind because she's already halfway through pulling out a folder from an even bigger folder.

"We did," she confirms. "We'll let you know about his availability. June is a tough month."

Steve looks down at his glass of water, determined to not let it show on his face that he's got no fucking idea what she's talking about.

The water ripples as Steve lifts it, but if someone were to ask, he isn't sure he ever drank it or not.

___

Steve stares at the red on his skin, wondering where it came from. It stretches down his skin like a long, raw scar before diluting at his jaw.

God, didn't that happen yesterday? Did he cut himself again? Or--wait, was it the day before yesterday? 

Where was the fucking shaving cream– why was he shaving without shaving cream?

His phone chimes with a text alert from Mona. He sees from the home screen that it's a schedule for today. It started the same as always, with her cheerful 'Good morning. Here's the plan for the day'. And usually, it could be boiled down to meeting people he couldn't stand, people he was still treading the fence about, and lunch.

When he looks up at the mirror, the red has begun to dry, forming little crusts that cracked when he opened his mouth.

Steve blinks and it's gone, and there's a wet towel on the sink.

Dinner is something. Chicken. Rice. Something healthy, there's some greens in there. He watches some sitcoms and laughs when the laugh track plays even when the joke isn't all that funny.

He eats his chicken and wonders whether 2am is too early to take a shower.

"You got any food in you or is that all you’ve been taking in all day?” He makes a mention to the cigarette that was almost halfway done.

“Jeanie managed to get us some soup. Should last us a few days if we divide it up real nice.”

“We got some extra bread.”

“Nah, Rogers.” The teen flicks the tail end of the smoke, getting rid of the extra ash. “We’ll be all right. Save that for another day.”

Steve jolts up when the familiar feeling of falling hits him. But the couch is still underneath him and the TV's moved on to another late-night rerun. The laugh track is mundane but feels like it's directed at him.

The plate clangs on the ground-- he's glad he's invested in metal ones after the first few times it happened.

He rubs his eyes, hand reaching out for his phone.

3:30am.

Steve pulls on a jacket and some well worn sneakers. It can't be too early for a run.

___

“Captain?”

Steve snaps back. “Yes?”

___

Dinner is lunch? Pasta? 

No, he ate rice for lunch. 

2:00am.

Why the fuck is he eating dinner at 2am?

___

“Rogers?”

“Please, it’s Steve,” he repeats, shaking hands with a polite smile.

“Steve. Thank you for the advertisement you did for us. Sales really rocketed.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Steve feels the scab on his skin. Scraped again?

___

5:20am.

Steve laughs with the laugh track.

Was this who he was? Laughing at some joke he wouldn’t be able to remember even with a gun to his head?

He shovels another soon of cereal into his mouth and discards the rest in the sink.

___

“Captain?”

“He’s not available, sorry,” Mona cuts in curtly as she walks swiftly beside him. “You can schedule a meeting with me, though.”

Steve looks at her when they round a corner. “Who was that?”

“Um–” Mona scrolls through her tablet. “Senator–”

___

“5am is not too early for a run,” he repeats to himself in assurance under his breath, tugging his shoes on. 

He stops to look in the mirror and it is empty. There should be dark circles and stubble and pale skin from not seeing the light of day. His skin glows. There is hardly a line on his face.

“Shave when you get back,” he says aloud, and his voice is hoarse from hours of unuse. 

He swaps out the elevator for the stairs, bounding down quietly. 5am was still early for his neighbours. 

He pushes open the door to his apartment and--

It is pitch black.

Steve takes a step outside, head turned up to the sky. 

It is dark, cloudy and deafeningly silent.

Steve’s eyebrows pull together.

He digs his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

2am.

He thought it was 5.

___

“Captain–”

“My opinion isn’t going to change, Senator.”

“What?” 

Steve’s attention drags him back to harsh fluorescent lighting and the smell of astringent hand sanitiser.

“I said you’re free to go.” The doctor flips the pages on his clipboard. “Good as new.”

“Serum, am I right?” he tries for a joke. It’s not even funny. He feels like a sitcom.

“Miracle of science.” The doctor graces him with a smile that seems almost pitiful. “Just try to get some sunlight. Your vitamin D’s a little low, but you’re cleared.”

“Great,” he says. Cleared for what, exactly?

___

“Mona.” Steve rubs his temples.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

___

Steve watches his food spin around in the microwave. 

It goes on endlessly, for ages and ages. He's mesmerised.

It finally beeps and he yanks it out.

He takes a bite. The center is still cold.

___

“Captain–”

“Senator.”

“It’s Councilwoman,” Mona whispers from beside him.

“Councilwoman,” Steve corrects. “My apologies. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“We’ve all been there.” She smiles kindly at him. He thinks she’s one of the only people he likes. “Now about your tweets, we’d really appreciate if you didn’t go against the organization that’s been, you know–”

He thinks he doesn’t like her.

Steve’s attention returns to his phone as she rattles on about why he should lend his public support to some fucking businessman who had stakes in some place for some reason. If he tweeted against him, it was probably for good reason.

You’ve sent him a meme.

The corners of his mouth curl up slightly.

“So we believe it’s in everybody’s best interest that you–”

“No,” Steve says resolutely, gaze rising up again. “My condolences, but I don’t think I’ll be doing that. Now can we continue to more important issues?”

___

Steve tries a drama for once, instead of a comedy.

Three episodes in and he has no idea what the hell has happened so far.

He checks his phone. 

12:43am.

Too early for a run. 

He gets ready for a shower.

___

Steve walks out, towel around his waist and hoodie covering his chest. His hair is slicked back, still dripping water down his back. 

His phone chimes with another notification.

1:40am

Steve waits for it to download, one hand on his waist.

From Y/N

(image attached)

From Y/N

Why on earth are you awake this late?

From Steve:

Could ask you the same thing. Don’t you have work tomorrow?

From Y/N:

Don’t you have an interview with CNN tomorrow?

From Steve:

Steve’s eyebrows furrow as he looks up, racking his brain to remember if he did have something lined up.

How do you know my schedule better than me?

From Y/N:

They tweeted about it, Steve

He smiles, barely listening to his dinner spin around in the microwave.

From Y/N:

Why are you up?

From Steve:

Got in late.

From Y/N:

Go to sleep

From Steve:

You first.

From Y/N:

What are you, my dad?

From Y/N:

Kidding, I’m going. Have fun in your lil interview. Give me a shoutout

From Steve:

Keep your ears peeled.

From Steve:

Goodnight.

From Y/N:

Better not see you awake after this, Rogers

Steve pulls his eyes away from his phone when the microwave beeps dramatically.

From Y/N:

Goodnight. Talk to you tomorrow ily

He pulls his food out carefully. It’s the worst looking slice of pizza he’d ever seen, but he drops it onto a plate anyway and walks toward his couch.

2:00am.

He’s seen these reruns before. Twice, actually.

Steve takes a bite. It’s stone cold.

The laugh track plays again. His lip twitches. 

Steve takes another bite and swallows it down without thinking too much. 

He switches the channel. Someone advertises something he doesn’t want. 

He switches the channel. His face. The channel changes faster.

Steve takes a bite. Winces and chews slowly, purposefully. The channel switches.

Laugh track. Steve bites the crust. His face.

3am? 

The plate’s discarded. He’s got a box of cereal. The channel switches.

Steve takes a spoonful. Advertisement. 

Interview today. Fuck. 

He takes a bite. Parade promo. 

___

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

___

Channel switches. CNN? Who the fuck was he talking to?

Steve chews on muesli. 

Laugh track.  

He swallows. Advertisement. Laugh track. He laughs.

Muesli. Interview at 9. 

____

Steve drags the razor over his chin. 

He swishes it around in the water, and there is red that mixes with dissolving foam.

____

He checks his phone. Muesli. Steve laughs.

It’s been half an hour. It’s still 3am.

Steve chews. Advertisement. 

He laughs. Muesli. He laughs. Swallows. 

Laugh track. Spoonful.

____

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

___

Dry pizza.

Steve laughs.

Steve pulls on his shoes and checks the time.

___

Something suddenly flips in him. He doesn't have a name for it.

Laugh track.

___

Fuck.

___

Steve exhales, tucking his phone into his pocket before he could send a retraction.

To Y/N:

Let's do it. Road trip. I'm in.

It was done now. 

He couldn't go back.

___

It hardly takes a few seconds for the notification to ring out in an empty apartment.

____

From Y/N:

Fuck yes. You won’t regret this.

As much as he wishes this trip is for you and for the two of you only, he knows it is simply one small part of it. 

Steve stares down at the phone, knowing he will.

Mostly, it drags him out of he darkness and into a spotlight. There was no turning back now, he couldn’t hide it behind absence. 

There is still time, though. To somehow conjure up a way to tell you about the dreams and the docks and the sun on his face. Of dog tags and disinfectant on his torn skin and toffee from corner stores.

It gives him time to tell you he’s thinking of going back to the past.

Next part

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #mcu fic #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #captain america fic

[hunieday]

Yuki – 16 IDOL ALBUM RabbiTV (part 3)

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access it, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Yuki: There are many people in this world who perform pleasantly. The sound that was being played that day made my heart dance.

Yuki: He wasn't a famous performer, I think he's retired now…

Yuki: But my father was a man who believed that what he believed was best, not what society thought was best.

Yuki: That idea is still alive within me today. I'm grateful to him for teaching me such important things.

[cut to the present]

Momo: What you believe in is more important than what others think of you, huh. That's so cool…

Momo: When I visited the café before, I could tell that he was a person who’s serious about music.

Momo: Ever since you were little, he hasn't changed at all.

Yuki: That's right. If anything, his looks haven’t changed either.

Momo: I think so too! He looks crazy young!

Momo: how do I put it… I thought he seemed like the kind of person who’d nurtured Yuki's musicality, or that he was the one who brought Yuki into this world in the first place…

Momo: Kind of like the God of all Gods? God of God (1)?

Yuki: Hahaha! Come to think of it, you said "Thank you for giving birth to Yuki." to him.

Momo: That was the only thing that came out of my mouth at that time! “I wasn’t the one who gave birth”, he replied with such a serious face too!… so embarrassing…!

Momo: Even so, when I told him that you were raised by him, he said, "He grew up on his own."

Yuki: How typical of him.

Momo: But, I think your father must have been happy that you were devoted to the same things as him.

Momo: He thought what he believed in was good, and you believed in it as well.

Yuki: ...Is that so?

Momo: That's right! Because he's your father!

Yuki: I don't really remember him doing anything particularly parent-like in general, but if Momo says so, then you must be right.

Yuki: As for me, I would've appreciated it if I were taught more about what it takes to live as a human being.

Momo: Ahaha! That's why you should be grateful to Ban-san!

Momo: When I was with him the other day, he said, "There were times when I felt like I was raising a child when I was with Yuki."

Yuki: Raising a child? What were you talking about to bring up such a topic?

Momo: It was from the story about how when Yuki becomes absorbed in composing, he stops eating and his life ability drops significantly, isn't it?

Momo: He had to forcibly put an onigiri in your hand because you were going to die if he left you alone.

Yuki: Tha- well, Ban shouldn’t be the one speaking!

Yuki: He used to lose track of time and skip meals when he was absorbed in guitar practice.

Momo: But he was skipping one meal, not the entire day?

Momo: In Yuki's case, even now, there are days when you don't eat anything at all for the entire day.

Momo: There are times when you come to work feeling dizzy…!

Yuki: …That’s right… On days like these, you wrap me in a blanket and drive me home after work.

Yuki: I will never forget the warm vegetable soup and the toast you prepared for me.

Momo: Uu… But the vegetables weren't cooked through properly, and the way I cut them was messy… I'm not as skilled as Ban-san and Yuki…

Yuki: What are you talking about? It was the best soup in the entire world.

Yuki: Thank you for keeping me alive, Momo. I am grateful to you.

Momo: Me…?

Yuki: Obviously.

Momo: Yuki…

Yuki: In Ban’s own words, you've raised a child with him at this point.

Momo: Wai…Wait a minute?! How come? Ban-san and I…raising…?!

Momo: Wait, let me think about it for a night.

Yuki: Think about what?

Yuki: But you two have a great balance between punishment and reward. I feel like Ban would be strict while Momo would pamper me.

Momo: ... Let me think about it for two nights.

Yuki: You added a day.

Yuki: How many days do you need to come to the conclusion that you need a locket pendant with my picture on it?

Momo: Is it a condition that I have to have it?!

Yuki: That's right. Isn't it too much of a one-way street for me to be the only one who has it?

Momo: Yeah… Even though you know that it's not a one-way street…

Momo: To me, Yuki is... Re:vale is like a god that allowed me to be born again…!

Yuki: …yeah. It was Dad who taught me how to enjoy music but…

Yuki: It was Momo that changed the way I thought about music, and changed me into a new person.

Momo: Yu-Yuki…What's wrong, you're more gentle than usual today…

Momo: I'm so happy right now that I think I would be able to run many laps around the apartment...!?

Yuki: fufun…Because you're always pampering me, I want to spoil Momo too from time to time.

Yuki, thinking: My songs, our songs, are loved by both gods and insects.

Yuki: Let's continue to sing many songs together, both of us.

[End of episode 3]

Momo says “God of gods” in Japanese at first, then repeats it in English

#idolish7 #idolish7 translation #idolish seven #16 idol album #yukito orikasa #re:vale #yuki re:vale #rabbitv #ainana #i7

[roseofdarknessblog]

Anatomy lesson (Reiner Braun x Reader)

Word count: 1 705

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Warning: modern AU, slight nsfw

Summary: Being a med student was never easy. But your beloved boyfriend Reiner Braun was eager to help you get your degree. Even if it involved long hours of helping you study and occasionally being your test subject. Or in this case, the best study partner for going over your old anatomy lessons.

Anatomy lesson

For someone who hated studying so much you chose the hardest degree in the entire universe. Medicine fascinated you your entire life. You dreamed of becoming a doctor since you were just a little girl. And now here you were... only a few months from graduating med school with amazing grades and a lot of opportunities for future residencies.  

Did it make you happy? Yes, of course.

Did it also ruin your life on a daily basis? Yes, of course.

„Hey there, sweetheart,“ said a familiar voice as soft lips kissed you behind your left ear. Strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you into a tight hug. Your back lightly bumped into a broad chest you loved using as a pillow. „Can I join you?“

„You scared me, where did you come from? I didn’t hear you unlocking the front door,“ you said a little shaken, looking over your shoulder at the familiar face. Hot water from the shower had already soaked his blond hair and made the longer strands stuck to his forehead. „How long have you been home?“

„Ten minutes maybe, don’t know. I wanted to wait for you in the living room, but you always take forever in the shower.“

„Yeah, I’m guilty of that,“ you admitted and gently brushed your lips against his mouth. „How was your day at work, darling?“

„Tiring as usual, but nothing a good warm shower with you couldn't wash away,“ Reiner said softly, his voice making you feel pleasantly warm on the inside.

You lived for long and impossibly hot showers. It was one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long and hard day. And today had been one of those. Even though you spent it at home, the last twelve hours were filled with studying, studying, and more studying. Just like the last couple of days. But despite that, you still felt like you knew absolutely nothing.

„And how was your day? You barely replied to my texts.“

„Filled with anatomy, mostly. I was going through old pre-recorded lessons from our professor, taking additional notes, making some new flashcards and stuff like that.“

„That’s why you’re listening to... whatever the hell you are listening to right now. Usually, you just blast some music while you shower and sing along, but today...“ said Reiner with a quiet laugh as the voice of your professor kept speaking from the laptop placed on the washing machine.

You felt guilty about taking a long break since you still didn’t cover all the study material you wanted today. Taking your laptop to the bathroom with you and leaving on one of the lectures was a fairly good tactic. But just until you almost completely zoned out and paid more attention to the water drops running down the walls.

„I don’t think I can contain any more information even though I am just going over materials I've already studied. But at the same time, I have a feeling that I know absolutely nothing. Like you can ask me about any topic and I’m just gonna blanky stare at your face like you were speaking in some foreign language.“

„You say that every time and then come home with the best grade possible,“ he says, leaning against your bare back and kissing you on the shoulder. „I'm sure you know everything you need, you've had anatomy before and did great. And the exam is next week you still have plenty of time to study some more.“

„I don’t think I have any energy left for that.“

„Come on, the finish line is just a few steps away. You made it too far to give up now.“

„I’m not giving up, just...“ you breathed and quickly turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. Your and Reiner’s height difference was all fun and games until you had trouble kissing him whenever you wanted. He needed to bow his head a little so you could reach his lips comfortably. „I’m tired, Reiner.“

„But you’re doing great, baby. I’m really proud of everything you do every single day. Even the tiniest, most ordinary things.“

„But the tiniest and most ordinary things are not gonna get me my medical degree.“

„Maybe not, but they are an important part of our lives. You can’t just focus on one thing and ignore the rest. Life comes as this one really big thing made out of million smaller ones which are all almost equally important.“

You smiled a little and placed another kiss on his soft lips. Kissing Reiner was one of the single best things in the whole wide world. And you had the privilege to do so for the last four years. The two of you met just before you started med school, so he’s been with you through it all. Your best and worst days. He helped you study for many exams and sat with you patiently when you needed a volunteer to learn anatomy for the very first time or practice clinical skills before your rotations in the hospital.

He was always there. Always. Supporting you and loving you every step of the way. Helping out with housework, mostly cleaning and cooking when he had time after or sometimes even before going to work himself. You couldn’t imagine your life without him by your side. Some days you were so overwhelmed by the love he made you feel that you couldn't even remember how you used to live before meeting Reiner.

Were you truly living or just surviving? Waiting in the shadows for the greatest gift the universe had to offer?

Med school was undeniably hard and it took a lot of your free time. You spent long hours with your nose stuck in books and study materials, and even longer hours in the hospital wards. But Reiner was patient. He planned cute small dates, waited for you after your unpaid shifts at the hospital, and planned his own schedule around your needs.

You viewed him as the most stable element in your life.

And for that, you were eternally grateful.

„I believe in you, sweetheart. You can do anything you set your mind to,“ he said lovingly, cradling you in his strong embrace, and pulling you even closer to his chest.

There weren’t enough words in this universe you could use to express your love for this man. You were just so unbelievably grateful for his presence in your life. He could turn even your worst days into ones with beautiful memories and lots of love.

„Do you want to study some more tonight?“ You nodded your head, gently brushing your lips against his collarbone. One of your hands travels up his muscular back, rubbing soothing circles on his warm skin. „And would you like me to help you?“

„You should rest, Reiner.“

„I have a day off tomorrow so I’ll have plenty of time to rest then. Tonight I’m all yours.“

„How did I get this lucky?“

Without an answer, Reiner made you take some steps backward until your back lightly hit the wet wall. His hands came down to your hips, gently squeezing them as his lips found yours again. His kisses became more and more passionate, loving, and tender at the same time.

„You look so beautiful with your hair wet,“ he whispered into your lips, proceeding to plant small kisses along your jaw and neck. „Just so so beautiful,“ he continued in a low, raspy voice. His lips swept over your collarbone, lovingly kissing one concrete spot before he sucked the skin between his teeth.

„Reiner...“

Your body tensed a little, and your breath caught in your lungs as a soft whimper escaped your mouth. Reiner smiled against your skin, sliding his right hand down your thigh, the other one still resting on your hip.

„You wanted help with anatomy, right? I think this is the best and most efficient way. Practical skills before theory, am I right?“ he asked jokingly before kissing you between your breasts and sliding both of his hands around your waist and down under your butt. His toned muscular arms picked your up with ease.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kissed his lips again, playfully taking his lower lip between your teeth. „I’m not so sure, Reiner. How should this help me pass my final exams?“ you asked just a little out of breath, gazing right into his golden eyes. Gosh, you loved their color so much. In the sunlight, they sometimes looked like pools of sweet honey.

„I’ll show you in a bit, sweetheart.“

„Oh, okay. Go ahead, big boy,“ you teased him and cupped his face in your hands. He didn’t have time to shave this morning, but you didn’t complain even a little bit. The slight stubble around his chin, and lips looked really good on him.

„But we should move to the bedroom, it has a better... vibe for this kind of activity.“

„As you wish,“ you whispered submissively, reaching out your hand and without looking stopping the shower. Cold air almost immediately brushed against your heated skin, making you shiver in Reiner’s embrace. „Just be careful and don’t slip on the wet tiles like last time. You almost broke my arm.“

„That was a stupid inconvenience, and it won’t happen again. I’m always being careful with you.“

„Just until you lose yourself in the heat of the moment.“ Your lips pressed a small kiss to the right corner of his mouth as he carefully stepped out of the shower. He was always very careful and gentle around you like he was afraid of accidentally hurting you in any way. „Shouldn't we grab a couple of towels or dry ourselves first? The whole bed will be wet otherwise.“

„Who cares,“ Reiner murmured into your ear and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Your laptop stayed in the bathroom, the professor's voice from the pre-recorded lecture still sounding through the apartment. His anatomy lectures were always one of your favorites. But they were just too theoretical.

Nothing could've compared to the anatomy lessons you taught yourself with the eager help of your boyfriend.

#reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner fluff #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot modern au

[intheorangebedroom]

Pleased to meet you, chapter 11

Summary: it's Sunday morning in the orange bedroom. You're at peace with your feelings, but Frankie's control starts to slip.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x French fem!Reader.

Rating: Explicit 🔞

A/N: Ngl I’m very nervous about this one. Nobody screams at me, please! They will be talking soon. I think 👀 (I'm working 6 days this week and the next, bear with me). Thank you to anyone still reading this story. My endless love and gratitude to @frannyzooey who saved my life with this chapter (and for a million other reasons ♥) Also, size kink like woaaa 🫣

Word Count: 2.5k (balancing last chapter)

[prev] * [series masterlist] * [next]

Chapter 11: Sunday Morning

It starts with a caress. The morning sun on your right shoulder. Followed by the soft, cottony fabric of the bed you’re lying on, on your left side. You slowly open your eyes to a sparsely furnished bedroom, bathed in mid-morning summer light, a pleasant ache between your thighs, your body heavy but rested. It’s nicely warm, the cacophony from a world outside the window distant and muffled, barely disturbing the room’s peacefulness. You can’t remember where you are.

You’re confused, but not alarmed. The room is alight with an orange glow. Orange like the curtains in your grandparents’ living-room, before your grandma died when you were five and a half and your mother had no other option but to take you back, before she married a wealthy man and you had to keep a low profile in your own home. Before your childhood ended. You feel safe, like you felt back then. You don’t know where you are, but you know that, for once, you don’t want to be then. You want to be now.

Your back is resting against smooth, solid skin, and you take in the lean, strong arms circling your waist. It swells inside you like a colossal wave, and you have to bite down your lips, for fear that your broad smile will tear up your entire face.

Frankie.

His chest rises and falls in an even, slow rhythm, so you remain perfectly still, not wanting to wake him, but his arms tighten their hold, drawing you closer. He nuzzles into your neck and breathes in your skin. A faint trace of you, something powdery and sweet, underneath the musky spice of him. You smell like him. He’s never experienced that before. Never fucked someone so much he’d infused them with his scent. He pulls you in closer, again, always, and you wrap your arms around his, your fingers entwined.

A kiss to your hair, and a sleepy, hoarse murmur as he asks if “you ok?” and you exhale your answer, “yes.” The word stretches in your mouth like a cat in the sun, like the last days of summer.

Yes. You’re more than ok, you’re dizzyingly content, while Frankie struggles to identify the uncharted warmth pleasantly numbing his mind, when your skin reaches out for him. Something he will never forget, something he will forever miss.

When you press your back against his chest, he brushes a smile in the crook of your neck, so you lean further back and the curve of your ass meets his hard length.

How long have the two of you slept? Long enough that his exhaustion is gone, and that the need to be inside you is gnawing at his insides again. A slumber so sound he didn’t notice when you crawled back into bed and tucked your body against his, wrapping his arms around your waist. A dreamless, peaceful rest, the first one since he enrolled, his mind a blissful void, barren of all ghosts.

His right arm loosens its hold, so his hand can roam over the smooth skin of your curves and slopes, running his palm along your sides, around your hip, over your belly. He goes about your breasts easy, cautious, considerate, brushing the back of his hand along the swell of them. When you whimper quietly, your head tilted back, seeking the contact of his throat with your temple, he gives them a gentle squeeze, one, then the other. His.

You reach back and take him in your hand, taking in the heft of him, so smooth, so heavy, so perfect, the vein on the underside pulsating in your light grasp. Your thumb rubs lightly at his round head, smearing a bead of precome, and you bring your finger to your mouth to taste him leisurely. Heat flares up deep inside your core, spreading to your chest and neck. Arousal pooling down your folds, you untangle your legs from his in a wordless request, squirming between his arms, and his low “shhhh” pours liquid fire into your ear, doing nothing to ease off the longing.

Frankie’s learned you, and he knows he has to open you up for him. You took so much, yesterday. And he’ll make you take more. There's only one day left. He nips at your pulse point to chase the thought away, a hard suck on your skin, you can leave other marks, and your body goes slack in surrender.

He swipes his tongue over the fresh, dotted red fleck, and traces a line of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, unhurried and languid, licking his way back up, relishing the salty tang on his tongue, the unique taste of you and him. His right hand trails your body from your breasts to your folds, and when his fingers part you gently, he finds you soaking wet.

With anyone else, you would be mortified to be this exposed in your need, but not with Frankie. Frankie makes you feel safe, safe and wanted, like it’s ok to be you, more than ok, like he's chosen you for you. And you can’t find it in you to care that your feelings are deepening far too quickly. It’s all the better if he knows. Let your body tell him. You want to make him feel that way, too. Because, beyond the way he makes you feel, you've chosen him, too.

Again, you feel his plush lips spread into a wide grin against you, a barely there stubble scraping your neck, and that’s when he says it. His voice a whisper laced with want.

“Oh baby.”

A sudden, sharp inhale quakes tour chest, almost a dry and repressed sob. You thought you heard him say it last night, but did you really, you were drowning in ecstasy, in fear, in him, but this one is real. It's undeniable. Your heart rabbiting along your veins, you close your eyes and hold on to him. You might just drown again. Frankie’s “baby” is all you ever want to be.

You jolt when he slides a finger inside your warmth, and his left arm holds you down on it as he begins thrusting in and out, his strokes shallow at first, deepening until he plunges into you to his knuckle. When he adds a second finger, you start rocking into it, and with his mouth still suckling and nipping at your throat, you’re trickling down his hand.

You whimper feebly at the loss when he withdraws the digits, bringing them to rest on your lips and with a light pressure, silently prompts you to open up for him. Diligent, eager, docile for the first time ever, you lick your own taste, and he purrs in your ear, “easy, baby.”

Oh, he registered, you can hear the smug smirk in his voice, and you give the pulp of his fingers a playful bite. The teasing is gone from his husky tone when he adds, “I want some.”

The sounds he produces are explicit, obscene, wet noises and rumbling groans vibrating against your skin, as he sucks his fingers clean of your slick and your spit. You wish you could see his pretty face, choosing to close your eyes instead, smiling to yourself.

His left arm draped around your waist, he slides you closer, angling the curve of your ass higher up on his hips. The back of his hand grazes the cleft of your cheeks when he slides his length between your thighs, parting the lips of your cunt, the movement excruciatingly slow, the fat tip catching at your entrance.

“Baby, you’re so fucking tight, I can't even get in” he pushes farther past your entrance, skating through your folds, the tip of his length coming to kiss your bundle of nerves. You squeeze him between your thighs and he responds with a hissed curse in your ear that fills up your brain with static white noise. Reaching down again, he presses the heel of his hand to your clit, grinding against your ass, fucking whatever you’ll give him, you nearly dissolve at the thought, all the things I wanna do to you, your face turned into the pillow that swallows your breathless whine of “oh god.”

It’s soft, sweet and delicious, and for a while he just he rocks against you, at a slow, steady pace, the increasing pressure of his forehead to the back of your head the only sign of his impossible restraint. You cover his hand with yours, and you press harder, until he lets go to grasp your hip again, an imperceptible increase in the pressure, pinning you down as his cock rears back and this time, he slips inside you. Gradually, carefully, inch by inch, until the darker curls at his base scrape your cheeks.

It’s a stretch, a delightfully painful one that has you pushing down on his ass with your hand to urge him deeper, your breath coming in short pants, but Frankie remains in control, once more setting the pace.

He doesn’t move, giving you time to adjust, and when he starts nibbling your earlobe, your cunt floods and clenches around him tighter than a fist, you think you could come right then.

“You’re so tight,” he repeats, sweat pearling on his brow, and your skin quivers under his warm breath, but really what he means is you feel so good, the sensation of your silken walls fluttering along his cock is inebriating and his grip around your body tightens, your flesh gushing through his splayed fingers, his mind a swirl of you feel too fucking good you’re too fucking sweet, he wants to stay like this forever; but he starts moving, long lazy strokes, it is the best you’ve ever felt, even better than before, and you almost forget yourself before you realise what’s different, your head jerking forward with a strained “fuuuck.”

He pauses, hiding his face into your hair, his eyes clenched shut and his jaw flexing in frustration. “I know,” he breathes, husky voice heavy with regret, “wait,” and when the heat of his body leaves yours, you moan at the loss.

You don’t move, his left arm is still loosely around your waist. You just lie there. You want it just like that and so does he, so you don’t bat an eyelash as you listen to the nightstand drawer creaking open and the plastic fold reaping, you picture him deftly sliding on the condom with one hand, this man has such competent hands, aroused by the mental image and dripping.

When Frankie turns around, he lowers his gaze to your lying figure and sees his shadow undulating on your back. It’s a minute before he can draw himself from the vision, transfixed by the golden light reflected on your skin and the juxtaposition of the black cutout of his silhouette.

He pecks a kiss on your shoulder and sits up. His hand, gentle and firm, guides you onto your stomach. You love the way he handles you, like your size is inconsequential to his strength. It contradicts everything you’ve been led to believe about yourself. Between his arms, you don’t take up too much space. Under his touch, there’s never enough of you.

Straddling your legs, he traces a path of wet kisses along the back of your thighs, nibbles on the swell of your round bottom. You’re loose and pliant for him, sprawled out on the white sheets, extending your arms and hugging the pillow, your shoulder blades rippling under the gleaming hue of your smooth skin. He watches again, keenly, fascinated, what he does to you, what he can do for you. His cock, wrapped in latex, lies heavy between his legs, but his mind is foggy, he needs a taste before he can do anything.

He gently lifts your hips off the soft bedding, and licks into you, a wide broad strip, from clit to hole. His.

You whimper into the pillow as he closes his eyes. It’s that nasty thought again, skirting the edge of his consciousness, invading his mind.

One day left. How is he supposed to let go of you, tomorrow? What time can it be? He slept too fucking long. Will you even stay the day? You might have things to do, plans with your dark hair friend, what if you want to go home. Home. He grinds his teeth, shakes his head. Your home is Paris. It puts an ocean between you, dark and fathomless.

He kneads the flesh of your ass, the control over his strength brittle, you can leave all the marks, and you writhe under his touch again. What if he bites at your hip? Right above the bone? Traces a deep indentation in your flesh. Will you let him? Will you jerk and scream? I’ll take anything you give me.

Get a fucking grip, Francisco.

His broad frame covers your delicate one and all shadows disappear as he leans down over you, rolling you back with him onto your side. As he lines himself up, he briefly repeats his earlier motion, coating the latex covering his length with your slick, fuck you get so wet for him, he can’t stand that fucking layer between you and him anymore, and it’s a conscious effort to unclench his jaw.

It's a hard drive into you, burying himself to the hilt, filling you up in one hard thrust, a shaky exhale through his nose as you cry out his name, so full you can’t breathe, can’t feel your legs. “Yea,” he groans, strained, crushing you so forcefully against him, you think your bones will shatter in his hands, and it'll still be fine.

One day. Only one day left.

“I’m sorry, baby,” and you hear it in his voice.

“Make me come, Frankie. Make me give you that sound again,” you coo, reaching back and threading your fingers into his hair, the gesture intimate, tender and soothing.

You feel his shoulders slump down in relief against yours. He draws in a steadying breath. He slackens his hold. He starts moving into you. Brought back to now.

His thick cock languidly drags along your walls as he goes all the way out before thrusting back in as deep as your snug cunt will let him. Your body's moulding into his, one arm braced around your torso, the other down your folds, and with the way he’s breathing heavy into the crook of your neck, the way he strokes his fingers in circles around your swollen clit, the way his skin shudders under the scrape of your nails, his silken curls twisted around your fingers, the heat of him flowing into you, beads of sweat at the base of your spine dampening his hair, you’re afraid you won’t last much longer.

It begins with a numb sensation just below your navel, that sharpens like the pull of a string. It radiates from your middle and crackles along your nerves like firework, it reaches up and down your body, to your toes and fingertips and your tits and your neck is on fire, your eyes roll to the back of your skull, you arch up in his arms, trying to hold on to his hair, you’re drowning, you’re floating, your cunt’s an endless flutter, you hear yourself mewling as you try to call out his name just before your mind goes blissfully blank, and it’s your complete abandon that tips him over, he follows you, his hips starting to stutter, the muscles of his belly pulled taut, his body curled up around yours.

****

Taglist (thank you 💕): @elegantduckturtle @mashomasho @lola766 @flowersandpotplantsandsunshine @nicolethered @littleone65 @bands-tv-movies-is-me @the-rambling-nerd @saintbedelia @pedrostories @trickstersp8 @all-the-way-down-here @deadmantis @hbc8

#Francisco Catfish Morales #The Pilot™️ #Frankie Morales #triple frontier fic #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #ben miller #my beloved Yovanna #benny miller #santiago pope garcia #will miller #william ironhead miller #adria arjona #pedro pascal #garret hedlund #oscar isaac #charlie hunnam #triple frontier #feral frankie friday #francisco catfish morales #the pilot™️ #the husband one #the one and only #Frankie #Frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales/fem!reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/ofc

[dorotheafromthesea]

If Robin wouldn’t know better, she would describe Nancy’s expression as terrified when she enters Family Video. She tries to ignore it as she snaps a short “Steve stacks the new tapes in the back” at Nancy and continues to focus on the rewind in front of her without looking further at the other girl.

Nancy doesn’t answer and Robin is surprised to see her still standing in front of her when she finally lifts her head and meets Nancy’s eyes for the first time in weeks.

“I’m not here for Steve. Could we- could we two talk for a moment?” Nancy’s voice breaks at the end, but Robin only stares at her. She won’t make this easy for her. Not after what had happened. Not after a drunken Nancy had whispered in her ear that she liked her, she really liked her, not after Nancy had kissed her only to vanish the next morning before Robin is awake, not after she ignored all her calls and avoided her for weeks.

Robin had been surprised when Nancy and her became real friends after spring break without all the interdimensional monster hunting and saving each other’s lives. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. Beginning with an awkward encounter in Family Video, where Nancy invited Robin to a sleepover, the two soon spend more and more time together. At school they ate lunch together, they studied with each other and their sleepovers became a weekly date. And as if it was inevitable, after some time, Robin had to admit to herself that she once again fell for a straight girl. But their new friendship was too valuable for her so she buried these feelings deep down and hoped she would get over it eventually. And it worked, it worked until this party-

“Robin, please, only five minutes?” Nancy’s quiet voice pulls Robin out of her thoughts and her eyes look pleadingly towards her, slowly filling with tears.

Robin sighs, “Fine, five minutes, but no second longer!”

“Steve, I will take five” she shouts at the back and heads out, where she waits for Nancy with her arms crossed.

“Robin, I- “

Robin slowly raises one of her eyebrows and when Nancy doesn’t continue, she is about to go back inside, but Nancy catches her wrist and finally finds to courage to say the words she’s been thinking about back and forth in her head for so long.

“I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was scared. All these feelings were so new to me. Even with Jonathan I never felt this way. And in the beginning, I told myself that I just didn’t know female friendships anymore. That these were totally normal and platonic feelings for a female friend. That it is normal to wish to hold the hand of a friend, to wish to be close to you, to wish to touch your face and your hair. But when I imagined how it would be like to count all the freckles in your face and trace them with my fingers- I-“

Nancys voice breaks again, Robin can see the first tears falling down her face and thinks for a moment that she won’t continue. But once she began, Nancy wants to finish for what she came for.

“And then in that night, when I finally found out how your lips feel on mine, how soft your hair is and how warming your arms are, I was no longer able to hide from myself. Not that I didn’t still try. I left the next morning without notice because I wasn’t ready to dig in these feelings. My entire life my parents have been telling me that these feelings are wrong and I thought that I could forget them. But I can’t. I can’t get you out of my mind, I can’t stop thinking about us and I can’t escape from these feelings. I tried so hard only to fail again and again. I was so afraid. Please understand that I was afraid. I never meant to ruin things. I never meant to ruin us.”

Tears are now streaming down Nancy’s cheeks and her hands hover between them, not sure whether Robin would allow her touch.

“And now? Are you still afraid?” Robin’s voice sounds softer as it has before and her hands move slowly towards Nancy’s as she whispers the words.

“Yes” Robin shrugs at this and pulls back her hands abruptly.

“Why did you come here then?” her voice sounds sharper than she intended to, but the pain is still too much for her.

“Yes I am afraid. But I- I also want to be brave. I want to be brave for us and I want to give us a chance- if you want to give me a second chance?”

Nancy’s hand is still trembling between them as Robin finally decides to close the distance between them and accepts the touch. Her fingers cautiously wipe away the tears and she gently takes Nancy’s face in her hand.

“Are you sure about this? Because I really want this. I wanted this for so long and our first kiss was like heaven for me, but the weeks afterwards were like hell. You really hurt me and I don’t want, no I can’t go through this again.” Robin notices how desperate this sounds but can't help herself. Her eyes waver towards Nancy's and she silently pleads for the right answer.

“Yes Robin, I want this. I want you and I- Can I kiss you?”

“Y-Yes” Robins voice is husky as she replies and cautiously, Nancy brings her lips onto Robin’s. Their second kiss is wet and tastes of salt and begins careful as if both of them fear that the other one will disappear if they are too brisk. Slowly Nancy deepens the kiss and Robin slings her arm around Nancy’s waist to bring her even closer. When they finally pull back, Nancy rests her forehead against Robin’s and mumbles “I missed you Rob, I really missed you.”

“I missed you too”

#I'm not sure how I feel about this #But I had the: I never meant to ruin things. I never meant to ruin us. in my head and needed to write something with it #ronance #robin x nancy

[claymorexpunisher]

Poppin the Question (Ch. 9/10)(Werewolf!The Shield) (18+ Ship Fic) (Repost)

Summary: Jon and Seth have a proposition for Roman. One that throws him in for a loop … (this fic was first posted in 2018. I can’t believe.)

Tags: 18+, M/M, smut, fluff, angst, angst with a happy ending, hair-pulling, hair kink, Daddy kink, name-calling.

Word Count: 17,916

Nursing a hot mug filled with coffee in the kitchen of their temporary home, Seth thought back to the night before, absentmindedly running his hand along the bite mark over the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

The spot was still tender but it brought a warm and fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he wasn't quite used to.

The second the three of them finished the ritual of marking one another, it was like something shifted…

Their sex life had always been intense and passionate. And well, filthy most times.

But last night it was like never before and Seth figured he'd have more than just the bite mark to prove it for weeks to come.

As sore as his entire body was as if he'd ran a marathon, Seth felt…happy. The feeling was almost euphoric, and he never wanted it to end.

Seth was lost deep in his thoughts until he felt strong arms snake around his waist, instantly smiling as he looked down to see Roman's tattooed arm.

''G'morning..'' Roman sleep-laced voice rumbled in Seth's ear, making his body instantly react.

It was always surprising how quickly they all responded to one another, no matter the emotion. It was always instant and intense.

But after last night, the feeling had quadrupled and neither man knew what to do with themselves.

''Morning…did you sleep well?'' Seth murmured, sighing pleasantly and baring his neck to Roman as the Samoan's lips traveled softly against it.

''Mhm…was wonderin' where you ran off to when I woke up, though.'' Roman said, leaving soft nibbles against the sensitive skin of Seth's neck while his hands began to roam the man's firm torso. He loved how Seth seemed to almost melt against him.

Seth couldn't help but snicker under his breath.

''What- you thought I freaked out and took a red eye back home?'' He joked, feeling Roman hum softly against his skin.

''Honestly? The thought crossed my mind…'' Roman said, pulling his mouth away as Seth turned around in his arms.

Roman's fears made Seth's stomach clench guiltily but, Seth couldn't really blame him. His track record for freaking the fuck out when things progressed between the three of them wasn't exactly clean.

Still, Seth sighed softly and wrapped his arms around Roman's shoulders, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

''Well…I'm still here.'' Seth said.

'And I'm here to stay for as long as you'll have me,' he wanted to add. But he hoped that the completely earnest look in his eye told Roman everything he needed to know. And surprisingly it did- if the brilliant smile that bloomed upon Roman's features was any indication.

''Yeah. Like you had a choice,'' Roman giggled sleepily. ''Come back to bed…'' He whined against Seth's shoulder, to which Seth replied with a soft laugh and a quick nod.

''I will. Just let me finish my coffee, alright?'' Seth said, giving Roman a last kiss on the lips before turning back around toward the counter, his back remained pressed against Roman's torso.

Just as Seth was about to pick up the mug to bring it to his lips once again, he felt Roman's large hand reach around and palm his cock over his sweatpants. His hips instinctively thrusted against Roman's hand even as he admonished him.

''Fuck…! Roman!'' Seth gasped, making the larger man smirk.

''Is that distracting, Seth?'' Roman purred teasingly. He felt a spark of satisfaction in his chest when Seth shuddered in response, and goosebumps arose all over the man's arms.

''A little bit, yeah…'' Seth answered through clenched teeth. The mug filled with coffee was quickly moved aside and left forgotten on the kitchen counter and instead, Seth turned to face Roman again, watching him crouch down in front of him.

''Hmm,'' Roman hummed, now using both hands to stroke Seth. He looked up through his lashes to see Seth's head roll back for a minute before their lust-filled eyes met. ''Maybe you shouldn't fuck me as good as you do, then…'' Roman said, giving the head of Seth's cock a few open-mouthed kisses and he smirked against Seth's cock as heard him let out a series of shuddery moans.

''Yo! Are you listening?!'' Harper laughed, snapping her fingers in front of Seth's face to pull him out of his thoughts.

''Huh?'' Seth asked, blinking in his confusion. ''Oh, yeah. I was listening.'' He murmured.

''Suuure…'' Harper teased. She didn't buy it for a second. The faraway look in Seth's eyes told her as much.

''What're you thinkin about? Not more relationship drama, I hope.'' She said, now looking concerned.

Seth quickly shook his head, easing Harper's worries.

''Nonono..not at all,'' He chuckled. ''We're good. Better than ever, actually.'' Seth said, raising his brows almost as if he were surprised himself.

''I just…miss Cancun.'' He said, chuckling some more.

Harper giggled as the man blushed while he itched at the tip of his nose.

Seth wouldn't stop talking about his trip with his boyfriends the second they came back months ago.

Harper found it adorable, honestly.

She wanted nothing more than absolute happiness for the three of them.

''Aw! I'm happy to hear that things are goin well! I think that trip was what y'all needed.'' She shrugged, lightly tossing a half full bottle of blue raspberry Powerade between her hands.

Seth nodded in agreement. ''Yeah, it definitely was. Brought us closer in so many ways. Ways that I didn't even think it was possible.'' He gushed, looking down as a light blush spread along his cheeks making Harper nudge him.

'' You got it so bad, my dude!'' She threw her head back, laughing then she softened her features.

''It's cute, though,'' Harper said sincerely. ''Nice change from y'all at each other's throats.'' She chuckled.

Seth once again lifted his brows, looking at the spot behind Harper.

''Speaking of being at each other's throats,'' He murmured.

''Ay dios…'' Harper muttered under her breath, looking just in time to see Baron making a beeline toward her.

She braced herself for some kind of smart-ass retort, but that didn't come.

But what he did say made her stomach flutter nervously.

She had an interesting vision a couple days earlier, and her stomach bottomed out at the thought of that vision coming true.

''Mr. McMahon wants us both in his office. Not sure for what, obviously but… we should probably get a move on and not keep him waiting.'' Baron said, for once not sporting that shit-eating grin he usually directed towards her. Harper nodded in reply, giving Seth a nervous grin.

''See ya, Harp.'' Seth said, giving her a comforting smile in return.

''Where're those two runnin off to?'' Roman asked, coming up next to Seth as Baron and Harper walked off.

''Got called into the boss' office,'' Seth said with a grimace. ''No idea what he wanted them for. Where's Mox?''

''Catering gettin' a bite to eat. Wanna join him?'' Roman asked him, rolling his shoulders slowly.

Seth gave him a considering look before he shook his head.

The playful glint in his eyes made Roman instantly smile.

''What?'' Roman questioned through smiling lips.

His entire body went warm at the promise in Seth's gaze.

Seth's reply came in a lazy shrug as he brought Roman closer by the hip.

The flecks of gold that seemed to constantly swirl in the irises of Roman's coffee brown eyes never ceased to mesmerize Seth and before he could think too hard, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Roman's lips, pleased when the other man quickly melted into the kiss.

''What do you wanna do?'' Roman murmured against Seth's lips.

Seth smiled wider and pulled away to say, ''Whatever we have time for.'' and he led Roman to a more secluded hallway…

(Last Part)

#roman reigns #seth rollins #dean ambrose #jon moxley #wwe fic #wrestling smut #wwe smut #the shield #the shield smut #wwe fan fiction

[xplrvibes]

So, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I actually liked the Mizpah Hotel video of season 2, just as much as I did the Zak Bagans Museum Episode.

Mind you, this video was absolutely a filler episode, but sometimes fillers can be the secret bangers of the series, so...good for them.

Anyway, my review and thoughts are behind the cut, but before we get to that:

Disclaimer: everything below the cut is my opinion, and opinions are not law. The definition of opinion is: "a view or judgment formed about something, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge." Please keep that in mind as you proceed.

Here are the areas I want to wax poetic about this week:

We need to talk about Amanda

How to kick game to a ghost prostitute, featuring Colby Brock

The investigation/evidence

As you all know, I am not Amanda’s biggest fan.  I consider her to be what I always call a “boardwalk psychic:” which is to say, someone who really over-inflates their psychic abilities and uses a lot of psychological sleight of hand and tricks to make themselves look more psychic than they really are. 

The biggest and best example of this, with Amanda, is her constantly waiting until someone says something about an experience they had with something paranormal in whatever room they are in for her to suddenly step in and go, “I was just about to say I saw this thing you just described verbatim!”

She’s always just about to say, you know?  

Anyway, in her first appearances on the snc channel, I railed against this and her need to pretend like she was some kind of all powerful being that could control demonic entities with her words (I’ve written novels on the stupidity of the whole “left vs right” thing).  I found her to be kind of rude, at least 80% full of shit, and not credible in the least.

So, it’s been...surprising to me that the last three times she’s been in an snc video, she hasn’t been like that as much.

I don’t know if she’s read some of the criticism against her and decided to tone it way the fuck down, whether the boys have read some of the criticism against her and decided to tone her way the fuck down in editing, or whether she just suddenly lost all of this supposed flashy over-the-top abilities she possessed and is now just a run of the mill medium, but...whatever happened, I am vastly preferring her now. 

I’m also massively confused as to how, all of a sudden, she barely sees anything, but- whatever.  I’m picking my battles, and letting shit slide.

Let’s move on to more pleasant things: namely, our old friend Colby Brock and his on-fire paranormal love life.

Before we get to the love life- I just want to point out how objectively funny it is that Colby got nauseous to the point of almost puking, but his first thought was, “Keep filming, cause if I do puke, it’ll be great content.”

Now, I love me some snc content, but I’m not watching either of them release any kind of bodily function on camera, so I’m glad that never came to fruition.

Now, I found Colby’s demeanor in this entire video to be quite interesting. Of particular interest to me, is what was going on with him when he spent 15 minutes in the bedroom by himself and made contact with Rose.  The fact that he even said he felt relaxed, calm, safe, etc...and then was exhibiting signs of extreme relaxation (at certain points, he almost seemed stoned) was fascinating to me.  Five minutes prior to this, this man was contemplating puking on camera, and was talking about how he was feeling really hot and kind of feverish, and now he’s in a bubble of peace and serenity, with a warm back and a sleepy voice and he's feeling none pain.

Also, Colby’s way of flirting with a ghost prostitute is *chef’s kiss.* Some of my favorite lines include:

“Rose, I heard you like single men...I’m a single man.”

“Do you ever wish there were more clients that came your way? ...I’m down to be your client.” *instant regret*

(*my personal favorite) “I’d love to get to know you, I’d love to talk to you...I’d love to hear everything about your life, what you’ve been doin-” *realizes that he’s asking a ghost about their life and starts laughing* “I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”

When he opened the door to Sam and the girls afterwards, he almost looked like he was in a trance.  He legit looked like he was about 5 minutes away from falling asleep and taking one hell of a sweet 🍃 induced nap.  

Like, whatever Rose did to him, she did him goooooood.

He seemed to carry that relaxation with him to the Estes Method, because that was the calmest I have ever seen him during one of those.  I’ve spoken about Colby and the Estes Method before, and how it always feels really heavy and kind of freaks me out when he is the one doing it, because of the way he always exhibits signs of being anxious or almost in pain, and the way he almost adopts the tones and inflections of the voices he is hearing.  But this episode- man was cool as a cucumber the entire time.

And then he went and slept (naked) in that bed that night.  That whole room was Colby Brock catnip, and he was rolling in it.

Anywhosies, speaking of the Estes Method- let’s talk about the Investigation/Equipment. 

First of all, one tiny little thing that bugs me about these hotel investigations: if you know there are other guests in the hotel, any noises you hear from behind hotel room doors that you don’t have access to should be immediately discounted.  Yes, someone could easily be behind a door at 12:00 jiggling a door handle.  They could be doing anything. You’re out in the hallway with a spirit box at 12:00 at night, who are you to judge? 

Anyway, onto the main investigation.  I want to start by saying that I think their little REM pod thing is shot.  I truly don’t even understand what that thing is supposed to be detecting, and I don’t even necessarily know if I buy it- but the way it was hyper malfunctioning in this video really gave me “there’s a short in the system” vibes, not “there’s a ghost doing the hokey pokey all around it” vibes.  I think it’s time they use that Amazon affiliate link they have in their video descriptions and buy themselves a new one.

Also, as far as equipment goes: what happened to their thermal camera?  I actually like and am interested by that thing, but they hardly ever bring it along.

I found Mackie and Amanda’s experience here to be kind of interesting.  They both said from the jump they didn’t feel welcome there (meanwhile, Colby’s is happier than a pig in shit the whole time, lol), and they alternated between feeling their hair pulled constantly, or being completely ignored and not getting any substantial evidence. 

One thing I’d like to point out is, when they were in the basement and Amanda got her hair pulled- the tour guide (who btw, was exhibiting quite a bit of nervous energy) claimed there were finger prints on the shelf behind Amanda that weren’t there before.  That isn’t true- they were there before. Debunked.

They had some interesting things with the spirit box- for example, when Amanda said she heard hello, and Sam said maybe it was just her who heard it, and they immediately heard, “Just you,” through the spirit box- that’s some interesting stuff right there.  You don’t need to jump through hoops to connect those dots.  I like it.

The whacky flashlight tricks- eh.  I’m not a big fan of those (as you all know, lol), but they were at least coinciding with a lot of what they were asking, so that’s cool.

The teddy bear- also eh.  I don’t get it, don’t believe in it, don’t really need to see it again. 

Their alone time: I already talked about Colby’s, and not much happened during the girls’ time, but what I really want to know is, did Sam do any kind of research afterwards into who Terry was/could be?  I’m assuming not, since they didn’t say anything about it- but if they had dug some digging, and turned up a Terry at some point in the history of the hotel (or even in the legends), that would’ve been awesome.

The Estes was also kind of interesting- like I said before, Colby’s extremely uncharacteristically calm demeanor during the session was kind of jarring, but I think it actually made for a decent session.  He certainly got a lot of interesting answers, some that actually did match up well with what was going on throughout the night. It was also interesting that the girls eventually had to dip so Sam could continue to get substantial answers. 

I also don’t blame the girls for moving floors.  Who wants to sleep in a room where you’ve been made to feel unwelcome all night?  Colby seemed to be living it up in that room, so at least someone got use out of it. 🤣

Anyway, a few miscellaneous highlights:

Not having a “What’s up guys, it’s Sam and Colby” at the beginning kind of throws the whole thing out of whack, so -1 point for that.  Sorry, boys- you’re stuck doing that until you’re 80, at this point.

Colby equates amazing smelling areas with grandmas. *jots that down for future reference*

Sam trying to be serious and invite a bunch of miners to the Hotel, meanwhile Colby is having ptsd flashbacks to 2020/2021, when he was getting hardcore cancelled on twitter for such cancellable offenses such as *checks notes* going for a walk on Jan 6th and wishing women a Happy Women’s Day.  “Don’t cancel me on twitter.”  

The sexual innuendos in this one- 😘

I love how proud Colby was that he had a whopping $75 bucks in cash on him. 

Colby, to the other 3: “You guys all have the same hair color, it’s kinda beautiful.” This man.

Colby, to Rose: “Rose, we’re inviting you specifically to the 3rd floor, if you wanna come” 😏 No wonder she was all about this man, lol.

Sam should chill on the caffeine before these investigations, cause damn was he jumpy, lol.

Overall, I’m giving this one another solid 7.5/10.  So far, I’m definitely enjoying this season quite a bit!

Of course, that is going to change next week, because judging by the preview alone, I am going to haaaaate the special guest stars, so you may not hear much out of me on the next one, lol.  But still.  Solid start!

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #snc video review

[in-singh]

Peter & Sarah for the ship meme

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet? Collided on the sidewalk.

What was their first impression of each other? Peter thought she looked like a startled chipmunk.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Not to Peter's knowledge.

Who felt romantic feelings first? Sarah, probably. Peter’s far too aloof.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Peter, probably.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? Peter would be pleasantly surprised. Sarah's a darling woman.

What would their lives be like if they had never met? Ernest would probably actually like Peter.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? Both of them did, and it was awkwardly cute.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? Peter took her back to Gunter's for a real treat, not just tea.

What was their first kiss like? Slow, sweet.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Peter is fairly experienced, but this would be his first monogamous relationship.

What’s their height difference? Age difference? Sarah is almost an entire foot shorter than Peter, and he is three years older.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Neither have a close acquaintance with each other's immediate families, though his Grandmother finds Sarah lovely.

Who takes the lead in social situations? Usually Sarah

Who gets jealous easier? Maybe Sarah

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? Peter does this to get a rise out of Sarah

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first? They said it at the same time.

What are their primary love languages? Words of affirmation and Acts of service. Sarah aids him and he praises her for it.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? Peter

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? Neither of them are so affectionate, but Peter enjoys holding her hand

Who initiates kisses? They both do

Who’s the big and little spoon? Sarah is the little spoon

What are their favorite things to do together? Help others.

Who’s better at comforting the other? Peter's good at calming Sarah down, but she is warm and calming to him as well.

Who’s more protective? Peter, easily.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Verbal.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? For Once in My Life - Stevie Wonder, Enchanted - Taylor Swift, I Try - Macy Gray

What kind of nicknames do they call each other? Peter calls her Sare, Bear, and my beloved.

Who remembers the little things? They both do.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes? Peter, but it’s a whole mess.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends? Their immediate families, and close friends.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? They have five, the last two are twins. All are kind and intelligent.

Do they have any pets? No. They’re both allergic.

Who’s the stricter parent? Sarah

Who worries the most? Sarah

Who kills the bugs in the house? Peter

How do they celebrate holidays? With her family and his grandmother.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Peter

Who’s the better cook? Sarah

Who likes to dance? Sarah

#they would be so cute #answered

[intimate-confessions]

Woolfy & The Minx, Chapter VII - Will You Call On My Name

The sky is sunny and the air is pleasantly warm in this Eastern European town. It seems somewhat quiet outside with no commotion. This may be due to this town being in the midst of a worldwide pandemic that has stinted commotion everywhere. It’s almost as if the entire world has fallen asleep.

In a small rented flat not too far from the Adriatic coast, there lay two lovers who remain in quarantine from the world outside. They arrived to visit on holiday but have been caught in the middle of the pandemic itself. So much uncertainty and fear abound but not a single care in that apartment.

They sit reclined and together on the deck on the upper level. Being far from their lair was irrelevant, anywhere they go together is paradise.

It’s the mid afternoon and the sunlight is setting ahead of them. He moves His eyes form the horizon and drifts it onto Her precious hair. He strokes it and couldn’t help but smile at the comfort of Her lying close on His bosom.

This is where they want to be. This is their time and nothing in the world can take it from them.

He sees the side of Her face and observes how the light strikes Her features as if it was made to display Her to the world.

In this stillness of the day, It dawned upon Him that this would be the most appropriate moment to spill His heart:

He: “My Love…”

She: “Yes?”

He: “All my life I have always wanted to belong, endlessly chasing some sort of everlasting fulfillment, seeking for and grabbing everything I’ve ever wanted, but I was never satisfied.”

“Since my youth, I felt like I never belonged anywhere and with anyone. I never was able to share my heart and be close with anyone as I have wanted to. I did not know what I was looking for really. Feeling misplaced and lost, it was as if I were living a life without love while chasing the superficial things in life.”

“…that is until I met you…”

“The first time seeing you was like I grew a new emotion. Something indescribable happened in me while I was trying to comprehend who I just saw was real. Your shiny hair of mixed gold and earthen tones deserves it’s own love song, your skin is of the same ivory glow of the angels in Heaven! Your eyes struck me like a beam of light that is brighter than the sun. Your body is formed without a single inappropriate curve and in the most excellent way. Your hands and feet are the standard as to how those of a Goddess shall be. Your smile opened my eyes and woke this part of my consciousness that never saw the light of day until that minute. Suddenly it was as if nothing mattered more to me than to know more about you, to be a part of your life.”

“We spoke and I heard your voice as if it came from my deepest fantasies. I listened to you and took every word to heart. Then I got to know you so much over the course of the first few weeks after meeting you the first time. I saw these sides of you that made me feel like the only man in the world. I learned that you have the most amazing and caring heart, more than my own. This heart is also daring and wild to test my own. Your personality is attractive to the point that I want to listen to you all day, to know about your day, your thoughts and desires. I spoke of something and you fed off it and we carried on for hours. Same with the things you say, I fed off you, so time became irrelevant.”

“You have the soul of an angel with the heart made of fire. I knew I had to be consumed by it and I couldn’t hold back.”

“When I first kissed you, I immediately felt that heat inside you. That Minx who is relentless in finding that fire that she seeks. I know why you hide it, but it is a part of who you are, and I want to see it, I want to be immersed in it, who you are. I want all of you.”

“There is something that I cannot point my finger at or single out that made me know that you were so perfect for me and it was apparent from the very beginning. There was no reason to be so anxious to have you but I was.”

“At first, I didn’t know what I wanted from you, I fed off my selfish ambitions, then acted upon them with uncontrollable urgency. Then we became close, physically then emotionally. Wherever I was willing so were you. However far I went you came along, and every inch of our journey together felt so right. Every part of us was orchestrated so perfectly it was as if we were that rare instance in the universe where everything was just perfect! Nothing was missing. Everything was in its place.”

“The day I realized this was the day I felt like I belonged too. It is in you that I find myself whole. No matter what we went through together, nothing felt out of place, or as if I needed to be somewhere else. This was also the day I knew I loved you.”

She looked on at Him as He spoke then looked away as She tried to put some words together.

She: “I don’t speak of many words; I am not poetic or elaborate in speech. All I can say is what I know and what I feel to be true.

“I am not a native of my home, I was brought there as a child. As I grew older, I was I able to adapt to become the best I could be. I worked harder to be as educated and sophisticated as I can be. I came far and I have done much. I sought my own opportunities and I took them. I’ve had the warmest support from my family and my friends who I’ve acquired over time, yet there were instances where I felt alone and struggled with the sort of things that the others never had to deal with.”

“There were times I felt I would ever measure up. I succeeded in so much yet I felt incomplete, so at times I felt like an outcast”

“Eventually I found this job and then I found you. It was your friendly personality and outgoing demeanor that attracted me to you. I adored your comments and I relished in your attention. At first, I saw you as someone I could confide in a friendship, but eventually you sought me out and struck me at my core. We became something deep in a single quick moment.”

“When you kissed me, I didn’t know what to feel. I was shocked, so my initial reaction was to resist.”

“I knew this was wrong in so many levels, we should not have been doing this at all, we did not belong. It was all inappropriate and nothing made sense, yet at the same time it just felt so right.”

“Eventually we dove deeper into each other, I found this side I thought I never had, which was born of these experiences we shared. I just didn’t know how to see this side of me come out and I never knew it would feel so good to let it be free.”

“I not only was able to become my true self, but I had someone to support me all the while. This enabled me to accept myself as someone who did not have to conform to someone else’s standard but to be the person I am and be cherished for it, learning to love and be loved in return. So suddenly the focus was not on how I did not fit, it was all in adoring you and being adored.”

“I also learned to belong in you and let you belong in me.”

He looks toward the Sea while He speaks.

He: “So this is my privilege, to see you and know you as the woman you are, the precious Muse who became so sacred to me over this short period of time. This has happened so quickly, but it is as if it always was.”

“The reason I brought this up was because I wanted to talk to you about our future. Where I used to think of it as my individual desires which we may eventually do but it has come to this point where I cannot imagine spending another second without you in it. If I must do something apart from you whether at work or with friends, I find myself thinking of the next moment I will spend with you. This is something I want, something I crave. I feel as if I cannot consider anything without you as my soul would starve without.”

She: “It’s funny that you mention that because I was thinking about this the other day. I used to consider what I would do on my own but then things became of significance in terms for us, not just me. I can’t think in terms for myself anymore. It is not some sense of dependence rather than a voluntary want, or hunger, to have you involved in every part of who I am and what I do. I can’t imagine life without it.”

He: “Love, this pleases me so much! I never wanted you to be dependent on me, I know you are strong on your own, but at the same time you want to willingly consider me. This comforts me because it is also how I feel about you.”

She: “We are still young, with so much ahead of us. My closest friends would tell me this, but I already know that no matter how far I want to go that you’ll come along with me just the same.”

“At the same time, I feel as if you give me the freedom to choose as I want to. I know if I have decided to live my life apart, you’d respect it and let me be. I know your love is based on your respect for my will, even though it was something I gave to you as my Master, on that night, in that room.”

“I know it’s the same for you since you never hold back from your desires and try everything reasonable at least once. I know that you want to grow with new experiences, but I also know that you are willing to have me in all of them. Not only because you tell me but because I feel it. Our closeness and our bond. It is irrefutably strong. I feel like I can do anything I want yet I only want to with you along with me.”

In this serene pause He continues to look out to the vast scenery while still holding Her close, He then continues.

He: “Do you know of all the ways I love you? They are countless! Do you see this massive sea? We can count every single drop in it before I can fathom all the ways that I can adore you, devote to you and love you. Let me demonstrate to you how I may do these with every breath in my life…”

She: “Do you know how much I love you?”

She pauses to think

She: “I really love you. Really really. It’s a lot for me to say considering that I’ve only known you for a few months.”

She smirks with a blush as He giggles and looks at Her in adoration.

He: “You’re just so wonderful!”

She also giggles at His reaction as they find themselves holding hands. While their faces simultaneously approach each other, it only took to give each other that look to encourage the other provide a sensual and deep kiss. It is no less passionate than any other kiss they have shared before. While involving gentle lip biting and tongue suckling, they kiss for some time before parting between their noses but maintaining the stare of intention.

Their hearts begin to race as their body temperature begins to rise. These are the sort of things that they can never get over and used to. They feel as if it was that first time kissing in that office all over again, with Her bum placed on that desk, the monitor against Her arm with Her pictures displayed while He relentlessly grabbed Her to absorb Her own lips with His own.

He did not spare a single second before kissing Her again. Their eyes closed while tongues interlocking just as before. Their embrace with their hands let go and turned into a warm and firm grasp around each other’s bodies. She wraps Her long and slender fingers behind His head while He wraps His on the small of Her back. He grabs Her by the shoulder with the other while She clutches His bum with Her other grasp. They feel each other and it seems extra special in this instant. They both give a little extra drive from the occasion of engagement.

They kiss deeper and with more intention as He bends forward while steering Her body onto the bed surface. The sea view now glares behind them as they begin their intimate procession together.

His lips let go of Hers to allow for a quick breath before proceeding again.

In this gesture, She opens Her eyes and looks up at Him while rubbing Her hand from His bum onto His lower back. Her grip intensifies onto His warm body just to drive Her lips deeper onto His, pulling Her head closer to His with Her hand.

Time has frozen in Her mind, She thinks back of all She told Him and remembers those instances when life was less than ideal. Either in debt, working a dead end job, thinking of all the endless problems that lay on her shoulders, or sitting alone in Her room, wondering if there would be a moment where life would be better? But what would constitute as better anyway? It dawned on Her that even if She were financially well off and established in Her dream home and a great career, what then? Would She find some bloke stay with? What if he wasn’t supportive? What if the flame dies? Would they end up wandering off to somewhere else? Someone else? Or would She be better off living life alone? She would be Her own controller of Her destiny, but would She ever get by without that support, attention, love and respect that She yearned for all Her life? Who would She run to for that support? Who would look to Her to be inspired and loved? She resorted to fantasizing for a time when all these needs would be met. It was of absolute bliss and carelessness. Troubles come and go, but it was the yearning for the peace of mind and for that one who would be there for Her no matter what.

This dawned on her right as they were kissing. But now here it is, this moment. Here he is. The culmination of all her fantasies have come true. Right then and there.

His tears originated from the happiness of finding the love of His life, but it also stems from the memory from their conversation they just had. He recalled all the instances where He felt worthless and lonely and put Himself in His own shoes from then. He never thought there could be anyone who could relate and understand Him. There was nobody on earth, no relative or friend, who He was fully able to confide in. This often lingered over his head, so He decided to carry on and be his own person and became quite successful even though the loneliness was there, in the back of his mind.

He was in for the surprise of His life when He was proven wrong in the best way. This woman, who is perfection in His eyes, this was that one who He thought could never exist. She was better than that fragment of His imagination when He wanted someone as His everything. She was more than that. She was His other half and at the same time She was someone who challenged Him and complemented Him in their differences. Even more, She did not have to try or overachieve. This was about who She was and that is who He adored, She was who He had been looking for without realizing it.

He paused their impromptu kissing session before they engaged in intercourse.

He: “I do not think it can get any better than this.”

She: “Neither do I. I can be here forever.”

“I want to know something though. We are so tightly woven at this moment, but several years from now, maybe decades, if we begin to falter and lose this emotional high, if things begin to go sour, or if ever we were caught in trouble, would you call on my name?”

He: “Absolutely! I will call on your name decades from now as I would today.”

She: “If we find ourselves in a predicament where there is no end in sight. if we end up far apart and distant for one reason or another where there is nothing but the thought of each other to connect us, would you still call on my name?”

He: “Yes. Without a doubt. You wander in my heart as well as my mind. You are engraved into my very being.”

She: “Even if we grow older, saggy and demented, despite everything we were in the past or whatever we become in the future; will you call on my name even then?”

He thinks and considers for a moment before replying.

He: “Love, my want for you is driven by every part of who I am. I know someday my mind and body may not work as well as it does now and neither would yours, but even then, I will love you just as intensely and relentlessly by then as I do now. This part of me that will always be, this is the part that is made to love you, so I always will.”

She: “MyLove?”

He: “Yes.”

She: “Will You call on my name?”

He does not speak and neither does She. His glance veers down on Her body. His fore finger is lifted and lands on Her navel. The detail on Her skin there is so soft as She is adored there under this clear light. His cadence has changed dramatically where it is as if He is observing these details underneath His shadow. His face even approached Her navel close enough to find the tiny hairs that wave back and forth by the breath of His nostrils. His fingers follow the flow of these hairs that flow toward the center line of Her navel. This like goes up ward between Her breasts or down into Her flower.

She knows what He’s up to. This is a state of mind He enters where He ponders on the moment. He stares a bit further and is entranced by the soft movement of Her breathing, this navel that moves up and down with every breath She inhales and exhales. This gaze on His eyes moves to Her left hip and is followed by His finger while He traces the round but gentle protrusion of Her hip bone. It delights Him how perfectly proportioned She is.

His forefinger is followed by His other fingers that trace the edge of Her side then move up. He crawls upward to allow His hand to trace up to the outer edge of Her breast. This tickles Her slightly, not enough to bother Her demeanor, so She enjoys this as Her man does His thing.

He remembers their covenant and the name He gave for only Her to know and looks straight in Her eyes.

He: “Goddess Aurora…”

She: “Yes Woolfy?”

He gently reaches for His travel bag that is laid behind the seat they both are in and retrieves a tiny box. He places it in front of them both as She lays on Him. She sees this box and immediately recognizes what it is and sits up to turn and look at Him

She: “Woolfy? What is this? Oh my god! Really?!”

She places Her hand onto Her chest with mouth wide open while looking at His hands which open the box to reveal a small and sparkly engagement ring.

She: “Wow…Oh my god…Woolfy!?”

She takes her hand to cover Her mouth that gapes wide open. It takes a few seconds before He can muster a few words to speak. It is difficult finding the right ones.

He: “Would you trade your last name for mine?”

He picks the ring out of the box and lifts it closer toward Her face. She looks at Him and notices His eyes are beginning to water just as Hers.

She sits gawking and staring at the ring. It is solid gold of vintage and classic design with three diamonds as the centerpiece. She looks at Him as He takes Her right hand and slips the ring onto Her finger as He speaks.

He: “Marry me.”

She begins to tear up and cry as she shakes Her head.

He: “Is this too soon? We can take our time love…”

She sniffles as She puts Her words together.

She: “No, that’s fine, I mean it’s on the wrong hand.”

She attempts to pluck the ring out before He intervenes.

He: “Oh, sorry. Allow me…”

In His relief, He plucks the ring and slips it on the finger of Her left hand.

She wipes the tears off Her face and continues,

She: “YES, I mean to say yes! I’ll marry you. I want to, more than anything!”

He laughs to the rhythm of Her spontaneously joyful reaction

He: “I don’t think I want anything more than this either.”

Her excitement flows through Her voice. The couple both giggle and smile as they sniffle from each other’s emotional reaction. He looks onto face with a rosy red nose and eyes outlined in blush red adorning Her creamy complexion. He could not Help but adore Her as she appears. They smile radiantly and look into each other’s eyes. They both interlock fingers and hold them up as She looks onto the ring on Her finger.

She: “God! I can’t believe I’m engaged!”

Her voice drifts into laughter while She jumps up off His bosom and jumps happily on the floor. He just stays put and observes all She does. It’s another of His quiet ways of adoring Her.

She: “Can’t wait to tell Mum! My friends need to know…”

While She cheers from the occasion, She stops and looks on Her man. His eyes say everything, the happiness on His face is beyond words, though She suddenly has a surprise in mind to give back.

She: “You may not want anything more than this Mr. Woolfy, but I think there is something else You may enjoy quite a bit…”

He smiles with a slight confusion until She kneels down while spreading His legs. Her eyes never deviate from His while He realizes what She is about to do.

He: “Oh fuck yes!”

So He proceeds to slip a little lower onto His seat and lay His head back to close His eyes.

Purely by the intention to please Her man, She is excellent at what She does. Her long and slender fingers gravitate to His inner thighs over His shorts. Each of Her hands stroke Her nails down and under the short fabric of each leg then stroke up His leg underneath. She pulls Her fingers back a few times and repeats until Both of Her fingers approach His penis from underneath. She notices His stomach twitch and His muscles tighten as He is stimulated quickly.

He also takes deep breaths to fall into the mood to receive this sweet gift from His Love.

The tip of Her nails are able to tickle the underside of His scrotum from inside His shorts. It does not take long before She could notice a bulge grow underneath. Upon finding this, She gently wiggles the fingers of one hand around His cock while still tickling His scrotum with the other. She gently but swiftly pulls and flattens His cock parallel to the zipper of His shorts to relieve it of the tightness that developed around.

She looks at Him as His eyes remain closed. The speed of His breath accelerates with audible sighs along with the constriction of His abs under His shirt and around His arms. She does not need too much effort to arouse Him.

Her eyes drift down and onto the zipper of His shorts, Her hand that relieved His cock is pulled from inside and is placed on the zipper to pull another swift move, to unzip His shorts and undo the button holding it together around His waist.

He: “Mmmm that’s it Minxi.”

More sighs are breathed.

He: “Take me where I want to go…”

She pulls out Her other hand to part the fabric of His unzipped shorts. She takes Her long forefinger and strokes it along the outer edge of His underwear. His Muse knows that this sort of teasing is what drives Him crazy, although She feels that He is suppressing the sudden urge to pounce on Her, He is enjoying this one.

In consideration in what to do next, Her eyes veer onto His crotch while She places Her hand over His inner thigh again to tickle Him there. This interaction between them is gone from a point of trying to figure out how He likes it into a phase where everything She does is naturally the right move. Not only is Her presence the cause for His pleasure, but She knows Him, every point of arousal, every erogenous zone on His body, it’s in Her mind and it’s deeper than a map. The manifestation of His most intense stimulation is wrapped around her smooth and slender fingers. She can do no wrong since everything She does is so right, and She loves that.

Her fingers move back along the upper edge of His underwear, which is when He outstretches His legs and toes. He does this in preparation for what He is about to feel, so She notices and emits a wicked grin on Her face.

She gently peels the underwear form the top and lowers it enough to cause Him to gently lift His bum so She could pull it down with one steady movement. His penis is erect, firm and very warm. His breathing intensifies more than it is since the feeling of His genitalia touching free air causes Him to feel without seeing. He enjoys depriving the sight from His mind and just relying on the end of His nerves to know where His Minx takes Him.

She bites Her lip while placing Her fingers on His knees to slowly draw them up to His thighs and back down a few times. They go over and under His legs and eventually to the underside right where the seat meets His bum. The motion of His pelvis become more apparent as He moves upward then back down in sync with His intense breathing.

She notices a touch of moisture on the tip of His penis. It’s that bit of pre cum that tells Her that He is ready to receive Her as She is. This works as a cue of sorts to make Her next move with the steadiness that only His precious Minx can hold.

Her lips approach the tip of His penis, they pucker to provide a kiss that was very slow and sensual to the point where that action aroused even Herself. Her own heart began to pound and the breath from Her nostrils intensified where He felt it from the base of His penis. Her kisses turned into gentle suckling. With Her hands on His knees and the only movement of Her body was out of Her lips, She placed all focus on those kisses from this want She has to please Him. He felt this focus just from these kisses, which His arousal much more intense.

His leg drew close to Her as She remain knelt. It rubbed against Her skin enough just to give Her that silent assurance that He loves everything She is doing. She does not need that as much as He does, as this works as a motion of appreciation for everything, this moment, Her presence, and Her choice to love Him and be with Him.

The kisses on The tip move to the underside of His shaft. These are given in the same manner, with puckers and suckling throughout. She provides them slowly as a gentle tease but also as a way to prolong the moment between them. Time means nothing to them. There is no need to rush through a moment they been fleeting for all their lives. As Her hands move from His knees to the underside of His thighs, She approaches His body closer and puckers down His shaft with more kisses and alternating licks while going around and below. The warmth of His veiny penis has increased as it also becomes much more rigid than when She first felt Him under His shorts.

Her lips wrapped around His shaft from the side, She strokes Her lips up and down the shaft in another continually steady movement. At this point the breath from Her nostrils becomes just as warm as His shaft. She closes Her eyes just to enjoy the texture of the smooth and soft veins under Her lips along with the thick underside that pulsates every time His muscles constrict. To feel His movements and relish in the power to please Her man, this is what She adores and gets lost in the sensation momentarily.

Before long, She gathers enough saliva along His shaft to thoroughly lubricate it. With one gentle kiss, a nice loud smack is emitted which inspires Him to emit another audible hum. She exhales a hum of Her own as She looks on His moist shaft before wrapping Her mouth around His penis. Her breathing pace increases.

Her: “Mmm…”

He replies with some “ohs” that are released with every exhale from every wave of arousal She provides. With eyes closed, She wraps one hand around the underside of His leg while placing Her nails under His scrotum. She tickles it gently while She suckles forward and back. There is a rhythm to it that she has mastered enough to give attention and focus to both movements. These movements produce a subtle squishing sound that increases the arousal of both these lovers. The feeling of His leg under Her fingers pleases Her, it is the constriction and tightening of His muscle that influences what She would do next since it indicates how intense He receives it. She already knows that He enjoys that fluid combination of softness and speed in Her approach as well as a significant amount of play with Her tongue. She is careful enough to not allow it to gag Her although a few instances never hurt.

Since the subject of tongue play entered Her mind, Her oral stroke is finished with Her tongue pulling back in Her mouth and wrapping over the tip of His penis. She wipes it while feeling the mere girth of Her man. The firm but elastic sensation of it in Her mouth pleases Her even more. So much of His perception of beauty has rubbed on Her to the point where She has learned to admire certain aspects of things that are otherwise rushed: His penis rubbing everywhere from Her lips all through the back of Her mouth. Just as He basks in the moment while feeling Her, so She takes in every living second of this instance to immerse Her lips and mind in it. He exhales more “ohs” that become longer and louder, arousing them both. She resorts to take Her own hand and slip it under Her panties so She may please Herself in this process.

While pulling back enough to remove Her lips from His penis, it creates another kissing and smacking noise while drawing a string of saliva between them. His breathing becomes the most prominent sound in the room while She looks at the treatment She is providing for Him. She also turns Her eyes to Him just enough to observe His silent yet intense reactions. So in opening Her lips and engulfing His penis again, She flows Her way down to the base of His shaft to drive it against Her own nose. While following this with short periodic strokes, He feels the tip of His penis in the rear of Her throat and moves it softly as to rub it in the roof of Her mouth. She is close enough to approach His scent of cocoa butter from the area of skin from the base of His penis.

As She pulls back, He places a hand over the crown of Her head to clinch a bunch of hair under His fingers. It is a gentle push, a bit more than suggestive. Just enough for Her to also receive the pleasure of His suggestive motion that says more than words “This is how I want You to have me.” “I’ll take You so You can take me.” Please me, my Minx…” She slips Her slender fingers deeper around Her clit and then inside, pleasing Herself as a reaction to His assertion.

With all the trust from Her heart, She happily obliges to the manual direction taken from the tips of His fingers. He pulls Her head so the wrap of Her lips is formed around the top of His shaft, right below the tip. He suggests short strokes, pleasing that area that stimulates Him the most.

Without a single word, She knows what He wants, how he wants it, and how He wants to finish. She administers these short strokes that are accompanied by a significant amount of tongue play. This is followed by suckling that requires Her to open Her mouth a little wider while keeping Her lips sealed firmly around His penis, which allows for Her tongue to move a bit above and then below. This way Her tongue stimulates the shaft below with short fore and aft strokes as she suckles with Her lips.

While He moves His legs then eventually constricts them, She begins to kneel higher while bending Her head down so She may suckle down instead of forward. He feels the hair on the palm of His hand and remembers the tenderness of how He touches Her which serves as the default approach to do so. His clutch softens before eventually dropping His hands oh His sides. This is when He lets Her do Her thing and when She carries on with the cycle of suckling and oral movements.

He: “Yes Precious, oh yes!”

She speeds up. The sounds become louder. Her eyes close as His shaft is stimulated before the nectar of His body is released. She listens to Him as He moans in pleasure and strokes Her finger inside and around Her erogenous spot to please Herself just as intensely. His buttocks constrict, His legs and arms straighten as the sensation of His semen flows through His penis and out into Her mouth.

He lets out a loud but smooth moan with every ounce of air in His lungs.

Her: “Mmm”

She wraps a hand around the base of His shaft to stroke it upward. She continues to suckle just for a few seconds while He releases every bit of climactic strength He has left. She suckles all the nectar He could muster before wrapping Her tongue around the tip to wipe it one last time.

His breathing de escalates and He begins to relax in euphoric pleasure. She kneels back down while wiping Her lips with Her finger. She then stands up to approach Her man from one side to lay beside Him. She drives a finger on the edge of His cheek to caress Him and finishes off this session with Her sly but sexy words

Her: “Thank you for my treat, Sir.”

He breathes heavily while looking up. The mutual pleasure is shown with a glow on her face that only an angel can hold. He looks right at Her, in Her eyes and grins happily.

She grins right back at Him so He extends both His hands out to hold Her face by the cheeks.

Every moment in time becomes a moment that makes their lives more full, only since it is spent together with the incredible perfection and coordination of everything that has transpired to place them here.

Not a single word will be muttered between the two as He sits up. His hands never leave Her face, Her eyes never deviate from His. His gaze alone shows Her that He is not done with their intimacy that afternoon.

His hand extends up over Her temple then travels down along Her cheek and to Her jaw. He continually strokes Her with such tenderness that it does not feel as if it is coming from human strength. She holds His waist to squeeze His sides, holding Him close enough to allow these touches but as to let Her continue this gaze into His eyes. His lips begin to move slowly while He approaches His head closer to Hers. Their foreheads meet while maintaining that look and their tender touches onto each other. He closes His eyes and draws His lips on Her forehead before whispering these words but not loud enough for Her to hear. She does not wonder nor is She feeling anything but satisfaction that She is right where She belongs. In fact, She is beginning to feel a bit of arousal, for She knows Her man will come after His prize so Her spirit and body are willing and ready for that.

He kisses Her forehead, His lips move on Her nose then down onto Her lips. This continues with one soft kiss, then another that pushes deeper and closer into Her mouth. She does not react so She may just focus in feeling Him and the want He expresses through His mouth. It feels like He wants Her as if He needs Her to live. She kisses in reciprocation and in the same way as He does, with such tenderness and love, one of the most intense ways which they can demonstrate it.

He places His hands on the back of Her head to invest these efforts into these kisses. She feels His tongue slide in meeting with Hers. It’s a kiss that She thoroughly recognizes as that of Her man.

He moves His knees to the side so She is positioned over Him to eventually lay Her down on the bed. He hovers over Her with His back against the light of that sunny afternoon behind Him.

This day is just like any other in a warm eastern European town. Birds chirp while they sit on the branches that move serenely from the gentle breeze that blows through the village and the rented flat which our two lovers currently remain united. The curtains that cover the doorway halfway sway in this wind that happens to blow in the same rhythm as the way these two lovers move. It is as if even nature and all surrounding elements have made this moment possible, where this made everything in the universe so right. Nothing feels more appropriate in their hearts than this.

He places His knees on each side of Her on the bed below. His hands cradle Her head with the same tenderness that shows that He has His most precious in His arms. They keep their eyes closed as He rubs His pelvis over Her. It is still very warm and slightly moist from earlier and ready to receive Her.

It was as if they communicate telepathically where She instantly slips Her panties from Her legs and onto the floor. She opens Her legs slightly to allow for Him to enter Her and feel the possession of Her body around His.

He takes one hand to guide His newly hardened penis inside the moistened warmth of Her flower. The first instance of contact increases their arousal even more, further intensifying the burning in their hearts. His penis slides in so comfortably that He does it slowly to enjoy that sensation. As they kiss with intention, Each pucker becomes longer and deeper with prolonged interlocking of their lips and tongue. His body moves closer over Hers, it becomes close enough so She may be able to feel His heart beat. They both feel it, that their hearts beat in perfect syncopation with each other, as if it were one and the same but in two different bodies.

The astounding notion that their bodies have united in a way that can never be united any closer than this. As one hand still cradles Her head, He moves the other around the small of Her back, bringing Her closer but allowing to thrust into Her gently. He moves upward and down as well as a bit higher and lower simultaneously. He finds and stimulates Her point of stimulation inside Her through the tip of His penis. She moans and hums without the realization that She is even doing so, since even Her body wants to express it’s own pleasure aside from Her soul.

The way they are intimate at this moment, it requires very little physical effort. It almost seems as they are moving effortlessly except for the fact that it really is involving everything of who they are. They are pouring their hearts, souls and minds into each other in such an inexplicable way, like an entry into another dimension that transcends words or explanation. So they don’t speak, they don’t express any other effort other than the want they have for each other.

She lifts Her knee to nudge His body slightly close more, then with Her other foot She rests it on the lower side of His calf. He senses Her touches to move His waist up a little higher, adjusting His pelvis. They breathe harder and into each other mouths at times until She begins to straighten Her neck to lift up Her gorgeous head. Every successive beath from between Her lips is a soft moan, He Kisses Her cheek before moving His lips down to Her neck, taking the opportunity He has to do so. He places one hand on Her neck to hold Her down firmly, which causes Her to constrict Her neck and moan louder in arousal. He takes His other hand over Her breast nipple to squeeze it with a balance of this same softness and firmness from the craving of Her list in this moment.

He enjoys every second of His senses becoming drenched in Her. He sees the texture of Her ivory skin in the softened light with the subdued shadows that define Her toned body, He tastes Her lips and now the smooth sweetness that can only come from Her skin. Touching and feeling Her with His hands and the rest of His body simultaneously. Smelling the distinct aroma from Her body that only emanates from His woman and when She is aroused, thus triggering His arousal further, and then listening to these moans in Her pitch of voice that also can only manifest when in Their special occasion of passionate intercourse.

She relishes in the moment as much as He. Her own senses know that everything She ever wanted in a lover is manifested and guiding Her along to their mutual ecstasy. She looks up and notices the serenity and perfection of the moment through their own environment lit up in calm daylight, She tastes His body that still lingers on Her lips that tastes oh so good, quenching this hunger in Her being. She Holds His head and clinches on His back with every muscular movement He makes being translated through His muscles under Her fingers. The scent of cocoa butter lotion that She was immersed in stays prominent against Her nostrils as an ever-present reminder of the treat She received. She listens to the smacking and suckling noises coming out of His lips along with the thrusting noises going on between them. 

With the combination of the immersion of Her senses along with feeling His thrusts and tender clutching, She could not help but reach a point of arousal where a flooding of Her nectar takes place. This warmth increases between them though He does not stop. He does move His lips from Her neck to Her shoulder, suckling and kissing. He stops just for a second to sneak in a finger underneath and to the outer edge of Her clit. He nestles a bit of Her nectar between two fingers to draw it into His lips for a different sort of taste. While lifting His head, He wraps His lip around His fingers and visibly enjoys every drop of Her sweet flavor. She looks on and is treated with the same flavor from His finger, She grins along with Him.

This grin on His face demonstrate the extra push He provides against Her pelvis, continuing the thrusts and stimulation. The grin never leaves His face even as His finger grips tightly around Her mouth. She moans through His grip with eyes of intent that tell Him that She wants more, deeper, harder. He obliges willingly.

While squeezing the small of Her back, His thrusts accelerate again as He lays His chest on Hers. Without outright putting His entire body weight on Her, their chests rub together in their thrusting and they clutch each other as She wraps Her legs around Him. Eventually She extends Her beautiful legs once He reaches Her spot again. His breathing becomes vigorous with the same intent She has in Her moaning.

They speak it ever y day, but this time their bodies told them, that they want each other, they hunger for each other, constantly. A bit of moisture had gathered between them as the efforts they expel amount to a bit of a workout. His deep breathing intensifies even more as Her moaning becomes louder and louder. That tone of voice which She breathes as She is about to hit Her climax is an arousing sound on it’s own. It happens again, where He is about to reach His own again, purely by the moment of being this close to Her and through the sound form Her voice.

He nestles His head on Her shoulder and she buries Her nails on His back. He handles Her with the same care as ever but with this hot grip around His Minx.

Over the course of a few seconds while feeling like time diminished completely, She reaches Her climax first. The moan She lets out sounds like a wailing scream during a loud exhale. That’s His cue to slow down and take Her in and inject another load of His own warm nectar into Her sweet body.

She still moans in Her breathing but this time She sounds as if She’s expelling every bit of left over energy in Her chest. While listening to Him exhale, She closes Her eyes and just savors this moment as well. They released this want through their bodies, so it’s time to rest and let go of the rest of this afternoon. He crawls beside Her and takes the bed sheet to cover them both. He closes His eyes and breathes out in assurance. His voice sounds as if He is speaking a prayer of deep devotion.

He: “I love You Aurora…”

She: “I love You too Sir.”

These words are different. They usually say it to assure the other of what they mean to them, but today, in this pleasantly warm afternoon, they both say it as an assurance to themselves. Where nothing can take them away from this moment. Not even pestilence or plagues can influence the certainty that these two are inseparable.

Nothing except one thing…

At that exact moment, British forces move into a makeshift prison in the Afghan desert. The sound of high-powered rifles is deafening where the assailants on the receiving end have no choice but to give into the mercy of the firepower that eventually take their lives. The forces move through the building quickly and make their way into the cellar where about a dozen of their own soldiers have been locked up for an extremely long amount of time.

One of the rescuing men move toward the cell with a cutting tool to unlock the gates to free up the men who were locked inside. Each one is guided out of the cell and then out of the building and onto the brisk wind of a landed helicopter.

This all happens so quickly as the entirety of the forces and their incarcerated men move into the unit and fly away.

One soldier who was incarcerated looks seriously famished and beaten, so is injured to the point of requiring immediate hospitalization. He can barely open his eyes as a paramedic on board the helicopter treats him for these injuries.

“We’re out soldier, we’re taking you to base camp where you will be debriefed and received appropriate medical care”

“Thank you! Thank you so much” The soldier sheds a tear for he knows that the impending freedom means he will no longer face the torture he had been bearing for years and he can finally go home to visit the love of his life.

The medic replies “Everyone thought you were dead! What’s the first thing you want to do once you make it home?”

The soldier does not hesitate to spill the first thought in his mind:

“I want to see my wife.”

“I want to see Elena…”

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

HI HELLO I WOULD LIKE TO EXPRESS MY LOVE AND ADMIRATION FOR U AND BOW DOWN TO UR CREATIVE WRITING GENIUS AND GODLINESS IN AN EXTREMELY LONG ASK

i would also like to say, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGJJGSLJJSKDJJJFJKSDFJSJFJSODJFDFJ”

that was live footage of me reading wrong number asshole bECAUSE THAT SERIES WAS JUST SO ❗️❗️❗️DAMN ❗️❗️❗️GOOD❗️❗️

Everything. the nervous and overthinking reader. bakugo being a major douchebag tsundere. wingman kirishima. the GOD-TIER HUMOR. THE POP ROCKS!!!!!! EVERYTHING WAS ABSOLUTELY SPECTACULAR.

I’ll be honest, when i realized it was part smau i was like ehhhh i dont rly know BUT U BLEW MY EXPECTATIONS COMPLETELY OUT OF THE WATER. you ... YOU are such a RARE tumblr gem and i say that bc there are only a few select people who have the ✨quality✨ of writing that you do. And I’m a very picky reader, so that’s saying something. I really, REALLY loved the way u portray bakugo. Because he’s more than just an angry Pomeranian, he also has his own insecurities and things that he genuinely really cares about. And i think it just goes to show how good of a writer you are because i can tell you really did a deep character analysis of him and it was anything but superficial.

i read wrong number for the first time back in may and was secretly reading it during math class AND SO many hours of sleep were lost over this but it was 100% worth it 😁😁😁

at the end of pretty much every chapter was me just screaming into my pillow in the darkness of my room at like 2 am. i also just recently reread it and OH MY GOD i forgot how funny the first few parts are. Also !!! The way i fRICKIN RELATE TO Y/N JESUS CHRIST I FELT EVERYTHING IN MY SOUL

here are some of my favorite lines from the series:

“But I also think you tend to fixate on reasons to leave instead of looking for reasons to stay.”

Yeahhhhh, when i read this for the first time I literally said oof. out loud. because that’s literally me. This line just,,, hit me yk.

It was an insecurity of yours, always believing that you had to be the one in the wrong. That the only reason someone could ever be upset was because you made them that way.

YEAH REMEMBER HOW I SAID I RELATED TO Y/N. YEAH. IT”S THIS.

Instead of him, it was just you- alone and waiting and etched with a ugly tattoo you should’ve never expected to guarantee forever.

ok so i rly like this line partly because again, i relate, but also just the WORDS. UGHHH that last part “you should’ve never expected to guarantee forever’ STOP EYE-

It’s strange- the way your heart seems to be breaking entirely and rebuilding itself completely all at the same time. It’s a wave crashing against your ribs- pushing and pulling and tumbling and pushing and pulling and turning and twisting and- calming when you look at his face. When you look at the way his hair sits and the way his jaw slopes and the way his eyes meet yours. It’s death and completetion and rebirth and red, red wildfire.

It’s your old life scorching and curling and burning up. And it’s your new, better, warmer life rising from the ashes.

AAAAAAASKDFJSDKLFJDS THE IMAGERY THE RHYTHM OH MY GOODNESS THE TALENT

Something in his eyes seems so tiny and small and unsure at your words, and it breaks your heart. There aren’t enough words in the world for all you want to say in that moment, so you just take his head in your hands, kiss him with every bit of care and concern you hold for him.

When you pull back, he won’t look at you, his cheeks gone nearly as red as his vulnerable eyes. His shoulders shake, and he takes a deep breath, turning his head to place a tiny little kiss into the palm of your hand. He doesn’t say anything, but the tiny action communicates almost everything you need to know.

PLS BC I AM VERY TOUCHSTARVED SO JUST THE IDEA OF BAKUGO KISSING MY PALM AAAAHHHHHHHH

Bakugou fights it, going rigid and stiff and resitant at first. He hardly looks at you, just barely, but you catch his gaze and nod. It’s all it takes before he’s allowing himself to sink into you, his arms pulling you closer.

It’s hesitancy, than acceptance and than desperation, and suddenly he’s holding you so tightly, clutching at you like you’re gonna fade. Like you’ll slip through his calloused fingers. It makes you ache. Sends volts of throbbing pain through your chest that have you squeezing him tighter.

It makes you want to sob- the way he seemed so resistant to softness despite being so obviously starved for it. You wondered if anyone else had stuck around this long; if anyone else had noticed just how desperate he was for someone to finally hear him.

again. THE IMAGERY. JUST SEEING HIM SLOWLY MELT INTO A HUG AND THEN SQUEEZE YOU AS TIGHT AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE AAAAAAAAA SOMEONE GIVE THIS TOUCHSTARVED BOI A KISS ON THE FOREHEAD oh wait y/n already did that ahaha

The completion you’d felt from this kiss far surpassed the charged kisses from earlier. This was kissing him just because you could, because you wanted to, and you were sure this was heaven- at least, as close to heaven as any one human should ever be allowed to get.

It felt like flying, like hurtling above the earth and surging through the clouds. Like you were Icarus and you breached the atmosphere to soar against the surface of the sun. His hands fell to the base of your spine, pressing you firmly against him, and suddenly you knew. Knew it for sure, in your bones like it’d always been carved in there-you might’ve been Icarus, but he’d never let you fall. You would get to blister and scorch and burn for as long as you’d wanted but your wax would never melt. There was no fear when falling with him. Falling for him.

You pull away, but you don’t go too far. Don’t think you could separate even if you tried. Katsuki was an addiction, a powerful, potent thing and the only salve for that itch in your skin was being close to him. As close as you could possibly manage.

NOT THE ICARUS METAPHOR PLS ARE U TRYING TO MAKE ME FALL EVEN MORE IN LOVE WITH THIS SERIES EYE- ONCE AGAIN UR WRITING TALENT BLOWS ME AWAY

“Good.” He mumbles juvenilely, looking anywhere to avoid your eyes. “Die then. Fuckin’ burn, you witch.”

I remember the first time i read this i FRICKIN DIED OMG IT WAS SO FUNNY i was crying at like 3 am

Grabbing his chin, you pulled him in, guiding until his lips met yours. You felt him smile as you kissed him, and you realized you were wrong. That first real kiss might’ve been nice; but it wasn’t heaven- itwas only the gateway to paradise. But this? This was the real Elysium.

His body moved against yours, so close and warm and pliant. He was letting you set the pace, without resistance or force or argument for the very first time. There had been a lot of past kisses, you had hardly been able to keep yourself off of him, but none of them had never felt like this before. He’d never trusted you like this before. You got to be the one taking and taking and taking where’d you spent so long giving.

It was consummation. Finality. Your perfect ending.

*SCREAMS*

AGAIN WITH THE GREEK MYTHOLOGY THIS REALLY IS THE PERFECT FIC ON GOD

i’ll have u know that this is my Official Designated Comfort Fic (insert trademark symbol).

THANK YOU. YOU ARE A WRITING GOD. I BOW DOWN TO YOUR GREATNESS. Also sorry for this extremely long ask and the overwhelming use of caps lock

have u ever,, have u ever read something that brings literal tears to ur eyes. that brings so much serotonin that its almost criminal

bc this, this ask is everything for me. u rllY SAID THAT MY FIC IS UR DESIGNATED COMFORT FIC?? THATS MY FAVORITE THING ANYONE HAS EVER SAID TO ME

YOU HAVE FAVORITE LINES?? FROM SOMETHING I WROTE??? DO U- I literally cannot even begin to describe how much this means to me.

@ur-local-reality-shifter , i adore u my lovely

#this ask brought me back to life #ive literally been down with covid for the last 4 months #but i think this just cured me #revitalized #rebirthed #rejuvenated #incredible #tysm for this ask #i have never felt more pleasantly warm in my entire life

[evening-starlight]

Daddy’s Best Friend

This took two hours to write and it FILTHY lol

All Works Master List

DBF Master List

10

Word Count: 2401

T/W: Smut, protected sex, degradation, honorifics (Pet, Doll, Sir), absolute FILTH, Oral (Male Receiving), cheating, hair pulling, spanking

    Amaris knew this was wrong, coming back to the scene of the crime, but that didn't stop her from knocking on the front door. She hadn't stopped thinking about Tom, about how his lips felt against hers, and how she was curious how the rest of him felt.

    Tom was pleasantly surprised when he opened the door and found Amaris standing there, looking frustrated. "Mari? What's up?" He asks, gesturing for her to come inside. She steps inside, close to Tom.

    "Look, this is embarrassing, but I just want one night with you. I need to get you out of my system if I'm going to have a proper relationship with Armel. That kiss we did was a mistake, but I can't stop thinking about it. So, one more mistake, and we're done, understood?" Amaris rants, shocking Tom at her boldness.

    She was always a bold character, but not this bold. Of course, they shouldn't be talking about this, but the thought of Amaris screaming Tom's name replays in his mind and has been for the last week. Thinking about Amaris's soft lips around him made him harden in his sweats.

    Tom's silence makes Amaris backpedal. "We don't have to. It was stupid to ask. I'll leave, and we can forget I even," She's cut off by Tom's lips on her, shutting her up. They kiss for a second before Tom pulls back.

    "This stays between us, yeah?" Amaris nods frantically, dying to have Tom's lips on hers again. He grants her wish, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. Their lips work together, creating an emotional frenzy between the two. Amaris's guilt subsides when Tom starts kissing down her neck, slowly pushing her back until she hits the wall.

    He settles a knee between her thighs, sucking a spot into her neck. Claiming her as his, at least for the night. Amaris's hands grip Tom's hair, breathing heavily as Tom runs a hand up her shirt, resting on her waist.

    Her skin is soft and smooth to the touch, and Tom can't keep his hands off of her, growing increasingly frustrated with the shirt blocking his assault. "Fucking hell," He mumbles before pulling her shirt off in a haste. Tom stares down at her. Amaris's chest heaves, lifting and dropping her perfectly sculpted breasts that are shielded by a dark red push-up bra. "Did you wear this for me?" Tom asks, palming her over the cup.

    Amaris lets out a pathetic whine, wanting nothing more than Tom to touch her the way she desires. His hands across her body send fire to her heat, growing with every touch. Tom chuckles, snaking an arm around her back while his lips find hers again. He unclips her bra with one hand and uses both to pull it off her shoulders and onto the floor carelessly. Tom's hands find the mounds and massages until he finds her peaked nipples.

    When he tweaks one, Amaris moans loudly into Tom's mouth. His hands make her feel like she's been struck by lightning, amplifying every touch and movement he does. Tom's tongue slips into Amaris's mouth as she continues to moan. She feels like she's on cloud nine, having never felt this horny with anyone before.

    "Bed," Tom huffs, grabbing Amaris's hand and dragging her across the house and to his room topless. He picks her up and tosses her onto the bed, earning a giggle in return. Amaris won't admit it out loud, but she loved being manhandled. "Are you certain this is what you want, Mari?" Tom asks again, anxiety seeping into his mind.

    "Just shut up and fuck me already, Tom," Amaris says, lifting herself onto her elbows. Tom pounces on top of her, causing yet another giggle to escape the girl. The chemicals pumping through her system make her feel dizzy in the best way possible. She has Tom kissing along her body, and it's everything she's ever dreamt of.

    Tom sheds his shirt quickly as Amaris tugs on his, begging him to be as vulnerable as she was. Her mouth goes dry, watching as Tom's abs ripple with a flex as he pulls the shirt entirely off. "Fucking hell," Amaris whispers, reaching up to pet his stomach. Tom chuckles and presses his hand over the top of hers as he leans back down to kiss her.

    Her hands on Tom's skin make the man groan. This is what he's been thinking about for weeks, and it's better than he could have imagined. He settles a knee between Amaris's thighs again, pulling a small moan out of her. "Tom, please do something. I want to feel you, please," Amaris begs, desperate for more of Tom's skin on hers.

    Amaris's pants are pulled down to her knees as soon as she finishes her sentence, on the floor seconds after. Tom stares down at her dark red panties. "They were a matching set," Amaris says, smiling at Tom. "But someone was too impatient to see them together."

    "If I recall correctly, you were the one absolutely begging me to take you, weren't you, Doll?" Amaris whines at the condescending tone Tom uses. His eyes light up at the noise. "Do you enjoy that, pet? Do you enjoy the way I talk to you?" Amaris whines again, not daring to answer when he's exactly right.

    She loved being degraded and belittled, and the fact Tom did it without hesitation makes it even more enjoyable. Tom's hand wraps lightly around Amaris's neck, not enough pressure to be considered choking, but enough to show his dominance. "Use your words, Pet. Or you don't get what you came here for."

    "Yes, sir. I love everything you're doing. You're making me so wet," Amaris says, hoping her honesty will get her something. Tom hums, running his hands over her body, snapping the panty line against her skin. "Please fuck me, Tom," Amaris begs, rutting her hips against Tom's still clothed leg.

    "Patience, pet. I want to enjoy it." Amaris whines in protest at Tom's words. He chuckles and presses his leg against her core harder. Amaris can't help but rut against it, needing some kind of relief from the pressure building inside of her. "Look at you, so fucking desperate for my cock you're willing to fuck yourself against my leg," Tom whispers, bending down to nibble on Amaris's earlobe. His lips find her weak spot, pulling a pornographic moan out of Amaris as he sinks his teeth into the flesh.

    His cock was throbbing in his sweats, begging to be released and fuck inside Amaris, but Tom ignored it the best he could. He wanted to enjoy the only time he'd have Amaris in his bed. Enjoying the moans and whines coming from the girl, Tom continues to leave marks up and down her body, Armel be damned. Amaris was his for the night, and he was going to give her reminders of her betrayal. A betrayal she made just for him.

    When both adults were verging on frustrated, Amaris reaches between the two and cups Tom's cock through his pants. The animalistic groan Tom emits causes Amaris to whine in response. "Fuck, Pet. Rollover," Tom demands, pulling off her and off the bed completely.

    "What? I don't get to see your cock?" Amaris asks, eyes wide and innocent. Tom could see through it. She wasn't as innocent as she let on, even to him. Tom curses, grabbing a fistful of Amaris's hair, guiding her off the bed and onto her knees in front of him. Amaris sits on her knees, eagerly waiting for Tom to pull out his member.

    Amaris knew precisely what she was doing and how to get what she wanted. She wanted Tom to fuck her, yes, but she also wanted to know what it would feel like to have her mouth stuffed with him. And the quickest way to get Tom to do as she wanted to was to suck him off.

    Tom shimmies out of his sweats and undergarments, letting his cock stand full and erect. Amaris can't help but lick her lips before looking at Tom through her eyelashes. "Look at me like that, pet, and you're not going to be able to walk for the next week," Tom threatens, feeling his cock twitch as he looks down at the woman submitting to him fully.

    "Isn't that the point, Sir?" Tom moans lowly at the name that drips from her lips. He didn't think he was a person who would love honorifics so much, but here he was, cock harder than he thought it could get as she calls him 'sir.'

    His cock slowly disappears into Amaris's mouth while she maintains eye contact. She was going to absolutely wreck Tom if it was the last thing she did. Tom moans and rests his hands in her hair as she bottoms out. "Holy fuck, Pet." He breaths out, throwing his head back in ecstasy. Amaris continues to bob her head up and down his cock, watching as his breathing picks up and fists tighten in her locks.

    Tom was in heaven at the moment. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this treatment, but he's thanking every god he could think of while Amaris sucks the life out of him. Her mouth was warm and soft, her tongue swirling around the tip when she comes back up. This was the most perfect blowjob he's had, and he doesn't want it to stop.

    The blow job is cut short when Tom pulls Amaris off, panting as he feels himself being too close to the edge. He wanted to finish inside of Amaris. "Bed. Now." He demands. Amaris stands up and climbs back on the bed slowly, swaying her ass as she does. A loud smack echos through the room as Tom's hand collides with the supple skin of Amaris's rear.

    Amaris moans in response before dropping into doggy position, just as Tom had ordered before. Tom rummages around the bottom drawer of his nightstand before coming out with a condom with a victorious smile.

    The tension between them was deafening as Tom rolls the condom down his shaft before positioning himself behind her. Amaris whines pathetically as Tom teases his head against her clit. "Look at you. Fucking dripping for my cock." Tom says, collecting juice on his cock. "Fucking pathetic," Amaris whines again, pushing against Tom, which earns another spanking. "I decide when you get my cock, Pet."

     Tom continues to run his cock up and down Amaris's slit, saying filthy things that would make a professional pornstar blush. "I want you to fucking beg for me, Pet. Beg for me to fuck you better than anyone has before." Tom barks with a slap on Amaris's ass again.

    "Please, Sir. I want you to break me. I want to feel your cock in me for days after. Please," Amaris's begging is cut short when Tom thrusts his entire length inside her, enticing a loud moan. He stretched and filled her like no one else has, or ever will. His cock fit perfectly inside of her, hitting the right spots in just one movement.

    Amaris clenches around Tom, earning another moan from the man. She wrapped around him like no other has, and he wanted to savor this moment. But his cock begged to differ. Tom starts a slow, rhythmic pace as he fucks into Amaris from behind. The moans leaving her mouth egging him on to go faster.

    As Tom's pace picks up, Amaris starts to lose all earthly grounding. She grips the sheets for some sort of stability but can't get any as Tom rams into her at an ungodly pace. The sounds coming from the room could be heard throughout the neighborhood. Tom's moans push Amaris closer to the edge. He sounded angelic and animalistic at the same time.

    Tom wraps a hand in her hair and pulls Amaris up to her knees, continuing his brutal pace. "Look at you. Moaning for me," He grunts. "Who makes you feel this good?" He asks, using his free hand to wrap around and play with Amaris's clit.

    "You," She moans out, closing her eyes as the pleasure builds inside of her. She's so close she can taste her orgasm.

    "What's my fucking name?" Tom continues, feeling Amaris flutter around him. He knows she's close and wanted to get her over the edge. It isn't until his teeth sink into her neck that she screams out his name as she cums around his cock.

    The slick feeling and fluttering walls push Tom closer to the edge. His thrusts falter as he finishes inside the condom. Tom lets go of Amaris's hair, and she falls onto the bed, panting like a dog who's been left outside all day. Tom flops down beside her, catching his breath before he cleans them both up.

    Amaris is the first to speak. "That was, without a doubt, the best sex I've ever had." Tom laughs at her confession, resting a hand on the back of her sweaty thigh.

    "So why make it a one-time deal?" Tom asks. Amaris shifts her head to look at Tom, a serious expression adorning her fucked-out face.

    "Because I'm still with Armel," She counters. The guilt starts to come back. She shouldn't have slept with Tom, but this was the best she's felt in years after sex. Well, the best she's ever felt after sex.

    "So? Keep him, and when he can't fuck you right, I'll be here," Tom says cockily. He knew this was wrong, but this was hands down one of the best times he's had sex. It was also the fact that Tom didn't want to lose this post-sex feeling. He felt like he could conquer the world in one breath.

    Amaris sighs and moves so she's looking away from Tom again. She wanted to. The sex was amazing. The after-sex feeling had her walking on air. But she was cheating on Armel by fucking Tom behind his back. It's not Amaris's fault that Armel only wanted boring vanilla sex, but it did put a damper on her mood afterward.

    Tom helps Amaris get cleaned up, smiling proudly as her legs shake unsteadily as she stands up. They say nothing more to each other as they get dressed, and Amaris leaves with a thousand thoughts going through her head.

Taglist: @queenofallhobos @kingtwhiddleston​ @cynic-spirit​

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #i got 99 problems and tom hiddleston could fix everyone of them #tom hiddleston smut #smut #au #Daddy's Best Friend #twhiddleston #tom hiddleston story #story #og #oc #Original content #original character #paris #affair #love affair #tom hiddleston au #alternate universe #study abroad story #ya #young adult #y/a

[dickwheelie]

*breaks into your inbox* i already asked for two prompts but please. martin’s tits. that’s the prompt.

an excellent prompt that I kind of ran away with lmao, but I hope you enjoy this anyway!

__________

Martin was a lot of things, some of them better than others, but one thing he definitely wasn't was naive.

He noticed the way Jon had stared when, after arriving at the safehouse, Martin had peeled off his travel-grimy shirt and the sweaty binder underneath it, and plopped himself down on the sofa for god and all to see. Jon's eyes had widened, and then flicked away, and he'd managed to busy himself in the kitchen for over two hours.

Martin also noticed that when they brought up their sleeping situation that first night, Jon was quick to agree to Martin's suggestion that they share a bed. And afterwards, when they crawled in together, Martin saw Jon reach, across the covers, just for a moment before pulling back, and retreating to his side of the bed as though scared to cross some invisible line.

He noticed how, the next morning, Jon was too sleepy to stop himself from openly admiring Martin's bare torso as he stretched out of the covers.

Martin wasn't naive, and he could add up two and two just fine, thanks very much.

Martin started forgoing his binder around the safehouse more often, and his shirt, too, if it was warm enough. It was nice, letting the guys breathe, so to speak. They'd been needing it. He'd spent much of the past year alone, but so little of it had been comfortable; he'd rarely taken his binder off even when he was alone in his flat. For some reason he'd always felt that taking it off was something he didn't need, a frivolous, pointless attempt to comfort himself when comfort was something that wasn't for him. But now, in the tiny cabin with Jon, he felt unaccountably safe, and secure enough to sit around bare-chested and just . . . be. And Jon's flustered little glances were a nice bonus.

He didn't mind the attention; it was nice to be stared at, especially after the past six months of his life. He knew Jon was ace, but he had never said anything about a lack of aesthetic attraction. Feeling Jon's eyes on him was a nice reminder that he was not only seen but appreciated, that Jon found him appealing in more ways than one. And Jon's gaze was . . . sweet, in a way, almost shy. Like he wasn't entirely sure if he had permission to stare or not, but he wanted to do it anyway.

Neither of them said anything about it, but they didn't have to. Martin knew he'd been backing the right horse when Jon crawled into bed one night and, instead of plastering himself to the far edge like he'd done before, cuddled up close to Martin and laid his head on his bare chest. He was pleasantly warm and soft all along Martin's side, and he fell asleep faster than Martin had ever seen him do before.

The next morning, Martin woke up to find Jon sprawled across him, his face half-hidden in the middle of Martin's chest. He had the look of someone who had just found himself the world's fluffiest pillow, and was not keen on giving it up.

"Morning," Martin said, amused. "Sleep well, then?"

Jon stirred against him, but didn't relinquish his hold. "I'm not moving," Jon said, his voice muffled. "This is the most comfortable I've ever been."

"Can you breathe down there?" Martin said.

"Don't need to breathe," said Jon, his voice vibrating through Martin's chest. "Don't need to eat or drink either. Just need to lie here, on top of my very comfortable boyfriend, for the rest of time."

Martin patted his back and stretched over the covers a bit, making himself comfortable. "Whatever you say."

"I mean it. This is where I belong."

"Between the boys?"

That, of all things, made Jon glance up. He looked disappointed. "Is that what you call them?"

Martin shrugged. "When I call them anything, yeah."

"That's an awful name, Martin."

"It's better than the alternative!"

"Good Lord," Jon groaned, and finally rolled off of Martin, landing on his back in the bed next to him.

"Oh, don't be like that," Martin said, grinning. "Come back here and cuddle."

"No, it's too late now, you ruined it."

Martin propped himself up with an elbow and stretched a bit theatrically, doing his best to show off his assets, as it were. Jon glanced over at him and blushed, quickly looking away again.

"You can stare, you know," Martin said, smiling. "I don't mind."

"It's rude to stare," Jon mumbled. "And I don't like leaning into the whole Eye Avatar thing."

"Nope," Martin said, shaking his head. "To both of those."

Jon huffed a laugh, and turned back to face Martin, staring at him across the bed. His gaze was warm and careful, like the rest of him. "Well, now I've got no excuses."

Martin opened his arms. "That mattress can't be more comfortable than me. You said it yourself."

"No," Jon relented, "it's not. There's a distinct lack of Martin softness I'm missing here."

Martin reached out and tugged Jon close again, Jon putting up the weakest of protests before eagerly curling up against him. "There we go," Jon murmured, satisfied.

There was a long pause, and Martin had almost managed to drift off when Jon spoke up again. "I want you to know . . . I think you're very attractive, Martin. I--I mean you're handsome. And I like looking at you, and being close to you, like this." Jon shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm not great at this. Just . . . thank you. For letting me be close to you."

"Sure," said Martin, after a quiet moment. He pressed a kiss to Jon's forehead, which was in easy reach. "Thanks for getting close, Jon."

"Ha," Jon said softly. He burrowed himself a little closer, and Martin tightened his grip around him, making sure he stayed right where he belonged. "Anytime, Martin."

#tmabodypositivity #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #gwyneth writes

[t0wnspersonb]

Rest (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,515

Warning: SMUT, LANGUAGE

I’m literally in love with Bakugo Katsuki. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and I might make this a small series, I love me some domesticated shit and I hope you guys do too. This is the first smut I’ve ever written so please keep that in mind as you’re reading lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugo sighed deeply as he dropped his duffle bag to the ground with a soft thud. His red eyes burned with exhaustion, his body felt incredibly heavy tonight after his shift. 

It wasn’t that he disliked being a top pro-hero, far from it. 

In fact, if someone were to ask him if he hated or loved being a hero he would scoff at them and blast their ass.

Of course he loved his job.

Becoming a pro-hero was his dream, the ultimate goal in his life. The amount of hours, blood, sweat, and tears he had put into his training was not for nothing.

Of course he fucking loved his job.

But sometimes. 

Sometimes he wouldn’t mind being able to rest.

Like now.

Now, all he wanted to do was eat and sleep.

Bakugo flipped the light on in the kitchen, taking notice of the just washed dishes in the dish rack and the scent of cleanser lingering in the air.

Y/n must’ve cleaned up before she went to work. He thought briefly before opening up the fridge to see what was available to eat. 

His expression softened once he laid his eyes on the plate of food wrapped up with a note on top.

Missing you a lot today, don’t overwork yourself.-Y/n

After reheating his dinner he sat down at the table, sighing deeply once more now that he was finally off of his feet.

It had been a long couple of days. A couple of weeks of nonstop back-to-back hero work. Which meant that Bakugo was rarely home, either arriving far too late into the night, or leaving far too early in the morning. There were only small traces that he had actually been there, a coffee cup left in the sink, the bathroom being damp still from a shower.

It was weeks like this one that were incredibly taxing on Bakugo, and that was because he never got to see you. 

His wife. 

It also didn’t help that your work schedule at the hospital was just as busy. Almost seemingly as the exact opposite of his.

He figured you had another night shift tonight as he headed to the bedroom.

But he froze at the doorway.

The tightness in his body melted completely as he gazed at your sleeping figure. 

You were curled up under the blankets, fast asleep, and completely unaware of the tall man staring at you.

Bakugo couldn’t move fast enough.

All he could think about was curling up against you tonight, holding you close, and burying his face into your hair.

He had missed you too much.

He stripped down to his underwear and moved to slide under the blankets, his expression further softening as he noticed that you were wearing one of his t-shirts.

Carefully coming up behind you, he moved to wrap one of his arms around your waist. He pulled you in close, tucking you into his chest easily.

But you were roused awake from the sudden movement.

“Katsu?” you mumbled softly, eyes still heavy with sleep but you shifted your body so that you were facing the warm solid man now next to you.

“Go back to sleep.” he grumbled, both of you settling down against one another. He peered down at you with a gentle expression.

He had never seen anything more beautiful. 

“How was it today?” you hummed softly, slinging your right arm around his broad shoulder, your leg kicking up to wrap around his waist. 

Bakugo wrapped his fingers around your thigh, tugging you closer. His hand was big and warm, the roughness of his palms and fingers felt perfect against your soft skin. 

A touch you were desperately craving the past couple of weeks. 

“Dumbass Deku got overrun with the villains we were chasing down, I had go and save his stupid ass.” he grumbled, moving his hand up to slide into your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns into your back.

“Hmm.” you sighed softly, nuzzling your nose against his collarbone, inhaling that familiar burnt caramel scent.

Both of you were quiet for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. It was clear that both of you were exhausted, but neither of you had gone to sleep just yet.

There was a hum in the air.

A familiar one.

You looked up at the man that you’ve known your entire life. His eyes were closed, but you knew that he wasn’t asleep.

Your gaze started at the top of his head. His spiky hair was more disheveled than usual, but you knew that it was incredibly soft and perfect beneath your fingers.

Moving your eyes further down you took in his perfectly arched eyebrows and long lashes, but beneath that you noticed the dark circles framing his lower lids. 

Frowning softly at your husband’s apparent lack of sleep you continued your search against his face. 

His nose was perfect, and just below it, those soft full lips.

Your stomach flipped pleasantly. A familiar feeling bubbling in your lower stomach.

He was fucking beautiful.

And that was just his face. You knew that his body was just as perfect, if not better.

It was as if Bakugo Katsuki was sculpted from the gods themselves. 

How you were married to such a beautiful man, you didn’t know. It was then that you started to be more aware of those muscular arms that were wrapped around you. Those strong, thick fingers gripping your upper thigh tightly.

Your heart rate picked up, and you shifted slightly, attempting to get closer to him.

“Stop staring at me, shitty woman.” he grumbled, cracking one eye open to peer down at you. “It’s fucking creepy.”

Now you remember how you ended up with this beautiful man. His shit fucking personality. 

I guess it’s true when they say you can’t have it all, you thought dryly. Of course your husband couldn’t be a gorgeous man without having some kind of flaw. 

It was actually a wonder how you guys had been together so long. 

Childhood friends turned lovers.

You had been by his side since birth it felt like. 

Considering your mother and his mother were good friends, it was bound to happen that you two would be as well. 

You were the complete opposite of Bakugo. 

Kind. Sweet. Gentle. 

You weren’t in the hero course when you had gone to U.A., rather you had gotten into the support course.

Which wasn’t a problem for you. You didn’t want to become a hero. Rather, being able to help behind the scenes and being able to support those that wanted to be on the front lines, protecting and saving people, like your husband.

“Don’t be mean Katsu, I haven’t seen your grumpy face in weeks. Can’t a wife just look at her husband?” You grumbled pinching and pulling his cheeks.

He huffed angrily, grabbing your wrist and attempting to pull your fingers away from his face. “Let go, that fucking hurts.” he growled. “Stupid woman, you think I want to come home and be pestered like this?”

You snorted, an amused expression on your face as you ignored Bakugo’s increasing insults and attempts at stopping you from pulling his cheeks, increasing the pressure of your fingers on his face.

“You little shit.” he growled. He gripped your wrist tightly and shifted one of his legs to be between your thighs and moved, heaving you onto your back. Your wrists were pinned on either side of your head, Bakugo above you.

Oh fuck.

The position you were in caused your heart rate to pick up once again. Your eyes flickered down his body, appreciating the bulging muscles and the way his boxers now hung lower on his hips. 

The smirk on his face wasn’t helping the situation either. 

“Like what you see?” he sneered.

You rolled your eyes and moved your leg, shifting it up so that you could press your knee carefully against his crotch.

You could feel his growing bulge. You felt the rising blush in your face and looked away from him, going to move your leg down from its current position. But Bakugo was too fast for you, he grabbed your leg and hitched it over his hip and settled himself between your legs. Pressing himself to your center.

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips. 

“Why are you getting all shy now?” he teased, rolling his hips against yours. 

“Sh-Shut up.” you gasped, lips parting in arousal. “You haven’t even kissed me yet Katsu.”

He chuckled slightly, and released his grip on your wrists, allowing you to slither your arms around his neck, sliding your fingers into the back of hair. He leaned closer down to your face, one his hands grabbing at your jaw, the other one propping himself up to keep most of his weight off of you.

And then he was kissing you. His lips hot and urgent against yours, his tongue already poking through your lips, eager to taste the inside of your mouth.

You moaned softly, arching your body into his as your grip in his hair tightened. 

Bakugo growled against your mouth, grinding into your core harshly.

All thoughts of sleep are now gone. All Bakugo could think about was you, and how much he wanted to be inside of you. It had been far too long since the last time he'd had you, and now, he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

“Fuck, what do you want?” he growled, pulling away from you and seeing your swollen lips. Your eyes were wide and bright, full of want and need. 

His stomach churned pleasantly.

Before you could answer him his fingers were already where you wanted them the most. He rubbed at your clit in harsh controlled circles, his red eyes dark and filled with need as he gazed at your moaning flushed face.

“K - ah - Katsu. Please,” you whimpered, gripping his hair tightly between your fists. Your hips moving along with his fingers.

“Please what? What do you want?” he sneered, applying more pressure before he pushed your panties to the side, his middle finger sliding against your wet slit, but not fully penetrating you.

You felt tears gathering at the corner of your eyes, it had been too long. All you wanted was him to fuck you already. 

“You. I want you please.” you moaned out, bucking your hips up, urging him to enter you already. “Please Katsu, I missed you so much.”

Fuck. 

He missed you too. He was tired of the foreplay already, he needed to be inside you. 

Snarling loudly he all but ripped the clothes off your body before removing his boxers. His member stood tall and gorgeously thick against his stomach.

Your mouth watered at the sight, you wanted it in your mouth.

“Later.” he growled, noticing the look on your face. “I want to fuck you already.”

He spread your legs apart, gazing at you hungrily before taking his cock and rubbing it against your glistening slit, and then he rammed into you.

You cried out loudly as Bakugo set a brutal pace. Hard and fast, and incredibly deep inside your pussy.

It had been too long, your body needing time to adjust to his intrusion, your walls stretching to fit his thickness.

But he wouldn’t let you. Bakugo gave in to his desire and set a pace that had you gasping to keep up. 

Fuck did it feel good though.

The familiar pressure building up within yourself, ready to snap at any minute.

Bakugo was snarling above you, lost in the pleasure of your warm, wet walls gripping him tighter and tighter. He knew you were almost at your limit, he was too. 

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, it had been too long since the last time he was inside of you, but he needed you to cum first.

His grip was bruising on your hips; his mouth sucking and biting at every inch of skin that was within his reach. You knew you were going to have marks in the morning, but you didn’t care. 

His cock rubbed into the deepest parts of you, leaving you breathless and shaking. He always made you feel so full. 

“You gonna cum on my cock princess?” he growled, reaching down and rubbing your clit again. 

Your back arched, your head thrashing against the pillows as your pleasure began to build further up. “Katsu - ngh - I’m close.” you whimpered out.

He smirked, pulling out of your pussy before slamming himself back in.

And that was it.

You came hard, crying out and trembling beneath him, your wetness gushing out and staining the sheets below.

He snarled loudly, jackhammering his hips into yours as he chased his release before groaning lowly in his throat and spilling himself inside of you.

His hips finally stilled, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against yours softly before trailing delicate kisses against the bites he had left scattered across your throat and collar bone. 

He stayed buried deep inside of you as he continued to soothe your battered body.

Bakugo knew that he was never gentle when you guys made love. He knew that his pace was always rough and harsh, but the aftercare was a different story.

After the intense fucking he always gave you, it was important for him to take care of you tenderly. He carefully pulled his softened cock out of you, hushing you softly as you whimpered from the loss.

He watched as his cum seeped out of you, smirking slightly to himself before he pressed a gentle kiss to your hip and got up to the bathroom to get a warm wet cloth to clean you and himself up.

When he came back you were already on the verge of falling asleep again. He sat near your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your knee as he cleaned up the mess he made between your legs.

You hissed softly, your lower body sore and sensitive. He hushed you once more as he finished cleaning up, tossing the cloth somewhere behind him, he’d take of that in the morning.

Starting at your hips he trailed his soft lips up your body, pressing the sweetest kisses into your skin, gazing at you with gentle eyes.

The aftercare was his favorite part.

You were so fucking beautiful like this, completely drained after all the pleasure that he had given you. Your skin littered with his marks, your lips red and swollen from his intense kisses, your hair a ruffled mess around your head after moving it back and forth so much. 

He pulled the blankets over your bodies as he settled next to you, wrapping his arms around your body tightly.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, your eyes closing automatically, sleep ready to take you under.

“I love you Katsu.” you breathed softly, pressing your face into his chest. “So much.”

“Go to sleep.” he grumbled tenderly, placing another kiss to the crown of your head. “I got you."

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