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#should i write her a yellow blonde
suguruplsr · 2 months
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Suguru & Kento have been rotting my brain lately.
Can we get a writing about Geto, Y/N, and Nanami?
I feel like Nanami is definitely a soft Dom, but he isn't afraid to up the anti if you try to play with him too much. And Suguru is just already with it and just loves the face you make when you're tapped out. But both of them together? Good luck to Y/N
GIVE HER THAT V-DAY STUFFING
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✰ — who needs a husband for valentines when you have two perfectly good men to use?
,, royale au + masquerade ball , duke!nanami x countess!reader x knight!geto .
, mention of an age gap relationship (npc + reader, she doesn’t like him + more) , infidelity (reader) , use of a lot of pet names , degrading + use of “slut” , finger sucking + fingering , oral (f) , nipple play + sucking , unprotected , u take both at once , not proofread .
wc: 4.3k
divider @/hitobaby
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ah, an ever growing holiday was brewing in the cerulean nation on the 14th of february, as it was— ahem, is, becoming the day of love and kindness. celebrated by the prince himself with an annual masquerade ball.
“for he has no shame..” you mutter, adjusting your arm and fully holding up the lilac masquerade mask adorning your face. your husband, a count. who was of course, invited to the annual masquerade ball hosted by the prince of the nation, soon to be king. what was his name again? gojo something.. toru? no, close. but you can’t be bothered to remember his name when his personal knight, a highly respected and dangerous man, is staring at you from across the ball room.
your husband cocks a brow, “is something the matter, love? ” he whispers, leaning closer and trying to glance at whatever was bothering you. but you quickly bring his face towards you, a purple gloved finger beneath his chin. and of course, you wear that washed up and over-used smile as a blush settles onto his expression. “it’s nothing but some admirers. don’t worry your head.” you coo, standing up from the table and smoothing out your violet gown. cute and tight with a slit on your right leg, not to far up, just above your knee, classy enough to look good but simple enough for you to dance.
“would you like to dance? we wouldn’t want to bore all night..” you sigh, yet the sweet dull man refuses, abiet discreet, but still giving the impression of you casted aside as you walk among the crowds with no destination in mind. you can’t stand that heartless man! always isolated in work, so he could be noticed by the arrogant family ruling this very nation. even if it’s clearly a carefree party, stupid man. no wonder he’s brain dead and clueless to your suggestive advances, acting like a cute little virgin, despite his mature age. if he was going to marry some younger noble for better power, then he should at least have some abilities within his inventory! but oh, you aren’t surprised, especially with how difficult it is for him to please you after he’s done being abstinent for fives months in a row—
the cursing in your head, and clicking of your heels is stopped by a warm hand on your shoulder, quite familiar. but a frown forms out of frustration as the duke circles your figure to face you, your stunned expression under the accessory making the masked, decorated in yellow flowers and gold jewels, man smile, almost coyly. but you wouldn’t think of a man of his caliber to act like that sly fox from earlier. “oh.. duke nanami..” your voice wavers in slight confusion, holding up your dress a little and giving him a partial bow. the blonde shakes his head dismissively, gazing at you with more passion than your husband ever has.
“we speak of no names during this time, remember? countess.” you curse yourself as he chuckles lowly, flushed from your obliviousness, despite holding the wood of the very reason why you’re not allowed to say names. “ah, a slip on my part. i just feel so obligated to greet a dear friend of mines.” you recover, shame slowly leaving you as small conversation forms, him asking about your husband before questioning your recent endeavors, a sweet man indeed, but he’s as alluring as that man, nonetheless.
you don’t know when, but one of nanami’s arms eventually slipped around your waist, him behind you as he guides you to the many dancing figures around the ballroom as a slower song, compared to the awful music earlier, plays. “may i?” he whispers with a low timber in voice, lips beside your ear. you grip the decorative wood attached to your mask firmly, swallowing down the thick feeling rising within you as you hesitate. you couldn’t care less about your husband, more so the eyes directed towards you. perhaps you’ve gained some of his tendencies when it comes to public image.
but it’s just a little dance between friends, in a place meant for such activities. who’d question that? well.. other than the much older noble women with positions lower than yours, speaking over tea weekly as they reminisce about their past selves, wallowing in hatred.
you nod, “i would love too, but my mask isn’t one with straps.” you sigh. you did sacrifice your arm so you could keep your perfectly managed hair intact. but that seems to not be a problem for the man as he slips his off without a problem, “then we both can stay like this while we enjoy our night..” his hand reaches for your mask, smiling when you lend it to him, watching as he puts the two accessories in the pocket of his white vest. “if that’s okay with you?” his charm has you fighting a grin, eyes crinkling in amusement while he subtly admires the features of your face.
“i have no choice then.” you sigh, faux exasperation within your voice as you place a hand up onto his shoulder, “and i must say, my color makes you look dashing.” you poke at the violet mask poking out his pocket. that was no lie, the light shade of purple does well with his white and yellow scheme. “oh? i’ll consider your.. tastes more often.” nanami chuckles, his hands finding your hips, your bodies swiftly joining among the movement of others.
you two sway in perfect harmony with the rest, all thoughts of your face shown gone, and more focused on the hazel eyes that gazes at you adoringly. “i guess your earlier suggestion calls for an outing, no? i’d love to show you the many dresses i prefer.” you tease with a grin, gripping his shoulder a bit tighter as he sighs, a soft smile on his lips. “i hope im not the model for your trivial cloths, however..” his eyes drip down as he twirls you, taking the second to indulge in his more.. disrespectful fantasies.
you’re a married woman, he reminds himself.
but not a pleased one.
nanami, feels like one of those sleazy men at the round table, using excuses to have women with rocks and diamonds on their pretty little fingers, in the confines of their homes and secretly turning them away from their husbands. only to leave them on their own once the time comes of divorce, thinking they’d be treated lavishly in all types of ways with such notorious men.
oh but he wouldn’t do that to you, all pretty and daring. a woman with a spunk in her that never lets out. stubborn, he thinks. you just need the right person to lay you down and just fuck —
“well, the time of the ache in my feet and the horrendous song are parallel. a break please?” you look over at the artists disappointedly, blaring trumpets that did not suit well together, overcoming the sweet tunes of the pianist whose blues you adore. “of course, over here my lady.” nanami mutters, holding your hand and walking you off the ball floor. you two walk among the white clothed tables, chatter and hold light around you as you near what you presume to be nanami’s spot of interest, considering the familiar faces.
“would you like a drink?” nanami smiles as he pulls out a chair for you, setting your masks on the silk covering the small table as you get yourself comfortable. “an apple cider would be most appreciated, thank you.” you hum, feeling his fingers almost struggle to slip away from your hand before he goes. “of course..” he whispers, walking away to the large table across the giant ball room, which held the drinks and was lined up with staff of the royal family.
you sigh, almost dreamily, as you take time to recall the past moments. the charming man danced so eloquently that it was almost hard for you to keep up. but, you don’t really have outings like this often, so you’ll go easy on yourself for once.
you smooth out your dress, unconsciously looking up ahead. and just like that, your brief tranquility disappeared as annoyance seeped into you. all from the sight of that dark haired man.
geto suguru.
the damned man whose eyes have yet to leave your form all night. and the very man who strutted towards you with an air of superiority and cockiness. you hold your tongue, glaring hard as he takes the seat across from you that belongs to the beloved man who was here seconds ago. “such a.. roaring, attitude you have there my lady. but i couldn’t help but notice your beauty from across—“ you cut him off with a scoff, “cut it, geto.” you say sternly, holding back the harsh tone of your voice so no one would hear, or question who would dare have the audacity of speaking to such a respected individual like that.
oh but you do.
a hidden rivalry between the two of you has existed since the first ball the prince had ever hosted. at that time, you were but a fiance with no name for herself, hidden in the shadow of your husband and following behind him mindlessly. to which only the ever heart-stopping suguru interrupted, sneaking you into a little game of things you shouldn’t be doing. a game you play every year on the one fateful day you don’t wear that costly meaningless ring. it’d crude the outfit, you’d say every morning of every 14th of the month of kindness and love.
and that dumb man would believe it everytime.
but the thoughts of your husband are washed away as you shamelessly eye fuck the man in front of you. his thick noire hair pulled up into a ponytail, with his usual bangs left out, which makes him all the more attractive you think. he’s adorned in a basic black and white suit with a black mask that holds gems and dusted glitter. it baffles you how little effort he needs to look so beautiful, those small sunset-like eyes glimmering under the shining lights.
“where’s all that class gone my love?” suguru chuckles, leaning forward and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. you roll your eyes deciding to not respond and cross your arms.
suguru examines the expression on your face, all riled up for nothing. perhaps that dimwit husband of yours had and argument with you? maybe, he thinks. but a churning fills his stomach from the memory of you dancing with the duke earlier. good man. suguru unconsciously licks his lips from the exposure of your neck. nah, nanami wouldn’t be able to handle a sweet thing like you.
“my eyes are up here.” you say abruptly, clicking your tongue as heat rushes through you from his shameless staring, again. but the man bears no care for your words, sitting back in his chair and cocking his head. you can already read what he must be feeling, a man in slacks only ever spreads for one reason and one alone.
and with how.. big that reason is, you can only bite your bottom lip in anticipation, unfortunately, already thinking of ways to get away from nanami to speak of this reason with the man in front of you.
“i know sweetheart, just scoping my target.”
“you are so corny, please don’t ever say that again.”
“just military talk, my love.”
“to be sensual? it’s surprising how skilled you are in other things.”
suguru gives you a boasting laugh from your unamused responses, a grin sitting on those pretty lips of his. “yea, i’m sure you know all about those skills baby.” he speaks lowly, making you fight a flustering smile from the light giddiness in you. sometimes you forget how he pulls you into a state of calmness, like talking to someone closer than a friend.
well, considering you trust him with your body, more than your own husband, he’s pretty close.
but you’ve also seemed to forget the environment you two are in, as a filled glass cup is placed in front of you, a golden bracelet dangling on his wrist, “i didn’t know we were sharing our seats with another.” nanami holds his scoff, as the annoyed tone in his voice speaks enough to the two of you. suguru doesn’t appear to care, as he gestures to a free table, “i’m sure you can wait while the lady and i finish conversing, you—“
“i did tell you it was his seat.” you mock with a lie, gaining a faux flash of hurt from suguru as nanami groans. just one night with you was all he wanted, but of course, that womanizer just had to get to you. but he knows of the look in suguru’s eyes, one he harbors just for you. “so you decided to not listen to her? how.. shameful.” nanami tsks under his breath, avoiding the looks from an approaching couple as he swiftly steals a chair from the unoccupied table.
with suguru in front of you, and nanami on your right, you feel overwhelmed as tension rises, burning it down with the fizzy drink, but nanami’s next words almost makes you spit it out. “before you run off with that home wrecker, maybe you should worry about that husband of yours.” how did he know about you and suguru? shit, maybe you two haven’t been as discreet as you thought you were.
you didn’t even acknowledge the last part of of sentence, well you could care less, but you’re too embarrassed with your infidelity being recognized, “hm? oh— …he’s not lying sweetheart,” suguru pulls off his mask, setting it on the table and looking over at the direction of your earlier seating, catching a glimpse of your husband being sweet talked by some brunette, “seems he’s into even.. younger woman..” his voice falls into disgust, as he’s reminded of how your marriage started.
you were sent away to be wedded off just a few days after your 20th birthday, being a fiance for nearly two years until the 30 something year old man had finally taken interest in his relationship after being questioned by the queen. during that time, you had met the knight as a friend since he was somewhat around your age. well of course, that friendship grew over that small span of time.
and now, you’re pushing your late 20’s, your experience repeating itself.
“how disgusting.” nanami mutters, turning his head away to see your reaction. but you simply shrug, deciding to memorize the woman’s looks. you’ll warn her about the man later. “he can have his fun for now. but at the moment..” you sigh exasperatedly, looking at the two men with a needy look. “i think i’ve waited long enough, no?” your eyes flicker over to suguru’s, who smiles dangerously standing up and patting the dukes shoulder as he walks over to take your hand, you follow him.
“let us show you how we spend valentine’s.” he purrs. despite his morals, the blonde follows, only three masks left behind as evidence.
a empty unused room was the choice for this year. but the shimmering lights and porcelain all look the same, maybe you and suguru have been in here before.
the said man was on his knees, embracing the scent of your cunt while nanami was beside you holding, your now somewhat undressed, body against the wall with his lips over taking yours. “so pretty,” the blonde murmurs, holding your face by your chin as he kisses you passionately, but you can feel his fervor from how sensitive suguru’s breath on your panties make you. he kisses the ever growing wet spot on them, his tongue immediately laying flat as your thighs shake a little.
you moan into nanami’s mouth as his hands begin to pull at your nipples, grinding into suguru’s mouth, annoyed from the teasing of tongue. to which he clearly enjoys, from the vibration of his mouth to your pussy, a chuckle rumbling from his chest. “eager, huh?” nanami quips, amused, his open mouth kisses begin to trail to your neck, suguru’s fingers pull aside your underwear and the men finally work in tandem to give you what you want.
“mhm, just wanna come for once in my life.” you joke, impatience bristling among your tone, making suguru roll his eyes from between your legs, kissing your folds as one of his large hands push your thigh to fill the open space. “won’t hafta’ think about that tonight..” he huffs, his last words before his mouth began to suck onto your clit, making your back arch. but nanami redirects you, caring little for the triggered nerves in you as his own lips latch onto one of your breasts while he rolls your free nub under his finger.
your quiet moans fill the dimmed room as the men enjoy your body, all to give you a fresh high you haven’t experienced for so long. your thighs shake around suguru’s face once his tongue is inserting inside you, nanami’s groping and kisses making you all the more sensitive to them. you try your best to remind yourself of the hundreds of people downstairs, even the presence of the royal family on the floor above you. but the duke clearly isn’t satisfied with you trying to hide your sounds.
why not give you a better alternative?
his fingers clutch your face tight, words spurring together from your bunched up lips as he looks down at you, “open.” nanami whispers, letting go lightly, watching you obey, “good girl.” his praise goes straight down to your pussy, closing your eyes as you throb, taking his thick digits in your mouth while suguru’s tongue flicks around your folds. he eats you out like his life depends on it, sucking and kissing the gummy area with periodic smacks of his lips, nose deep. the way he was practically inhaling your pussy had his dick straining in his pants.
you almost choke on the fingers, bringing a hand up to nanami’s chest as he forces you to suck. your hums vibrate on his fingers, spit forming and your whimpers muffled as you wet suguru’s face. “sweet baby.” nanami coos, holding back a groan from the sight of tears beginning to prickle the corners of your eyes. suguru hums beneath you, nails digging into the plush of your thighs as your stomach coils, mind turning into mush as the men overstimulate you.
your body reacts heavily, unfamiliar with the simulations and you try to thrash around, spit drooling along nanami’s fingers as his mouth latches back onto your nipples, popping on the buds while suguru’s hand on your panties goes to your cunt, frustrated with the fabric but too hungry for your cunt to move them. he finally moves his head away from your thighs with a small gasp for air, a sick look on his face with the bottom of his mouth covered in slick. he quickly angles two big fingers in your cunt, curling them to make you break apart for the men to see.
“she looks like a fuckin’ slut.” suguru teases, licking your juices off his lips as you whine on nanami’s fingers, bucking into the ‘come hither’ movement of the digits inside you. the blonde pulls away from you with a pop of your nipple, “such foul language use for a lady like her,” nanami tuts, eyeing your puffy and ruined lips, “gonna cum for us? you can do it..” he smiles. his praises take you to cloud nine, mewling as your pussy throbs a beat from the way suguru presses the pads of his fingers deep in you.
you finally cum with a loud indistinct moan around nanami’s fingers, painting suguru’s white as your eyes roll back with tremors in your body. your orgasm makes you look so gorgeous to the two men, body shined in sweat and simply falling apart for them.
suguru pulls his fingers away, “can’t wait to feel you, fuck.” he whispers, immediately putting his slimey digits in his mouth, taking all he can of your sweet taste. your pussy looks almost battered, gooey and as puffy as your lips as cum soaks your messy undies. which he pulls down, helping you step out of them and sneaking them away as nanami allows you to open your mouth, bringing his wet fingers to grope your chest, the flesh spilling between his fingers.
“i’m sure you can take us both baby.” suguru parts from your pussy with a pat on your thighs, standing tall. mind slowly coming into focus, you look up at him with a frown, “what— no i can’t. you’ll break me.” you huff, slapping his chest as he shrugs. “stretch my love, we’ll stretch you. just don’t move too much, kay?”
his dangerous grin makes you turn away, looking up at nanami for help.
“you’ll be fine darling.” nanami disregards your pleading look with a smile, almost taking pleasure in the way your expression falls, huffing under your breath and complying with a reluctant ‘okay’. you stand still as the men undress, watching them without a care.
“the ladies weren’t wrong about you.” suguru blurts, examining the quite muscular build the duke has, almost similar to his own. but it surprises the knight considering how lean he looked underneath all that clothing. “don’t stare.” nanami throws him a glance as he kicks away his pants, both men fully bare to the cold air. suguru shakes his head with a smile as the other stands in front of you, him taking place behind you.
“c’mere.” suguru mumbles close to your ear, pulling you flush against his skin by your waist. he kisses below it as nanami greets you with a soft look, hands going below your thighs. “just let us do all the work.” he smiles, kissing the middle of your chest. which you’ve now guessed to be his favorite place.
somehow, the men were able to stuff their way in your pussy, holding you up with ease as groans revertibrated around the room. their cocks brushed together inside you, gummy walls clenching around them with its own heartbeat as you cried from the pain, and soon the pleasure.
“p-please— god, just move already.” you sob into nanami’s neck after five minutes of adjusting, your body too worked up to handle the stillness anymore.
your words make the two men give broken chuckles, “don’t cry if it hurts.” nanami mutters, giving the man behind you a look. and they both begin to slowly rock into you, breaths heavy and gasps leaving their lips as their fingers dig into your skin, holding your body tightly still.
suguru’s head falls onto your shoulder, letting his low groans reach your ears better as his hair tickles. “so fuckin’ tight, gotta loosen up baby.” you bite your lip from his words. it’s not like you can control it, they just feel so good. one of his hands goes up to your hickey covered chest, griping one of your tits. “might have to fuck her through it.” nanami groans. he couldn’t take it anymore, although he isn’t fond of the fox-like man, the way their tips rub in the home of your cunt has him fighting the need to rut in your cunt.
“thought you were treating her like glass.” suguru hums, pinching the nipple between his fingers, making a whine erupt from you. “i can handle it!” you begin to tear up, feeling suguru’s tongue lap up the small salty drops, “yea?” “yeah..” your meek response makes the two men adjust you just a bit higher, no words spoken between them, but moving together at the same time to fuck you with all their might.
you try to hinder your screams by biting down on your lip, but that does nothing, as the feeling of the two cocks hitting your insides is too good, you just hope you don’t get caught in such a state. head thrown back and slutting yourself out for the two men like some common whore.
you held onto nanami’s shoulders as suguru’s thrusts become harsh, his feet planted on the floor to fuck into you. nanami begins to match his pace, holding you up while suguru’s hands claw at your waist sloppily, too lost in the feeling of your messy pussy. “i know you feel it, c’mon, you can do it.” nanami speaks breathlessly, his perfectly styled hair beginning to stick to his forehead as he leans his head back. you nod your head mindlessly, throat sore and stomach turning.
“might just— f-fucking fill ‘er up.. sure that husband of yours won’t mind right, princess? definitely can’t handle ya like we do.” suguru’s nearly growls in your ear, biting on your neck as the deep smells of their cologne’s take over your senses. his words get to your head, and you feel like you’re melting into putty, reaching your high with each rock of their cocks, their tips hitting that spot inside you that hasn’t felt anythitng for so long.
“y-yea, wanna feel you two..” you can’t say the rest of your words, already too humiliated with the mere thoughts of their hot and ready cum spilling inside you, a married woman, and possibly getting you pregnant.
nanami grits his teeth, pushing into you, “say it baby, promise we’ll get you full if you do.” “yeah, we’ll stuff you all you want.” suguru follows, and their cocks move together as they pound you, a ring forming at their bases. “please, i wanna feel y’r cum.” you squeeze your eyes tight, body shuddering as the two men begin to kiss on your body, leaving marks that show your pussy isn’t the only thing they’re taking for grabs.
your mind swirls, limp in their arms with a cry as you cum on their cocks. your ears ring, a satisfied flow running through you as you feel spurts of cum filling you up, the men stilling inside you at the hilt to stuff you full. but your shared substances dribble down their dicks, slowly staining the perfect floors with evidence of your nasty actions.
..
from the cracked open door, a pair of wide eyes stare at the lewd sight, shocked. but too scared to say a single thing as his own jeans form a tent. a young brunette woman sneaks up the stairs seeing the man down the hall; her companion for the night. she notices a fallen ring beside his shoes.
“is something wrong?”
“ahem, it’s uh, nothing, let us return.”
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vettelsvee · 11 days
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BEE HOTELS | Sebastian Vettel
f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram
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sebastian vettel x wife!journalist!reader
summary: seb's suzuka biodiversity project goes according to plan... or will he have some surprises that he might reject at first?
word count: 1983
warnings: none of it really! just seb being the standard, as i always write him (almost always, oops). use of y/n y/l/n
taglist: @celemilii bc i wrote this for her as a birthday present! i recommend you to read her works bc she's just like me: we write about the oldies.
you can send your one shots requests here! feedback is truly appreciated!
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The painting in yellow and black tones increasingly filled his hands. Sweat dripped from his forehead, not only due to the sun that was blazing that day in Suzuka but also because of the stress he was feeling to ensure that the project turned out as planned: flawlessly.
Sebastian had spent months not only brainstorming and meticulously preparing for that Japanese Grand Prix weekend but also dedicating himself wholeheartedly the night before to build each of the hotels that his former colleagues were now painting.
He was exhausted, but the feeling of happiness he was experiencing at that moment was immense. The conversations among the other drivers couldn't be more positive. They seemed to be enjoying the process, constantly sharing laughter and jokes among them as they continued with their task the best they could.
While the German was focused on ensuring that everything was going perfectly, he could gradually see, out of the corner of his eye, a figure he knew perfectly well in any form.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" 
Her husband's tone surprised Y/N, who lowered her arms, disheartened, knowing that the hug she was about to give would most likely not be reciprocated.
"I came to see you. What else would I do?" replied the journalist, ignoring Seb's behavior. "And to interview you too, but you already know it."
The blonde frowned, feeling a bit confused by the situation. Interview him? How could there be nothing he wouldn't know?
"Interview me?" he innocently asked.
"Didn't Britta tell you?"
Sebastian shook his head once again. Y/N’s gaze shifted to Roeske, who averted his eyes at the mess he knew he had caused with the couple. The former driver's PR knew that if he had said anything beforehand, Seb would have likely rejected the offer and, most importantly, gotten upset. Besides, he knew that such a refusal would upset Mrs. Vettel, and that would end up in a pointless argument between the couple.
"Well, you know how Britta is. She didn't mention anything about interviewing me today, especially not by you. You know, with so many things she has to keep track of..." Vettel tried to excuse her.
The journalist shook her head and once again looked at the PR, seeking confirmation from his side. A single nod was enough to acknowledge that her client was right.
"Y/N, schön, we need to maintain professionalism," Vettel stated firmly, seeing that neither of the two women responded. "I don't think it's very appropriate to mix our personal life with the professional one. We've always done it this way, and we should..."
"To hell with professionalism, darling," she interrupted, raising her voice. "We've been pretending to be professional for too many years to keep doing it. You've been retired for almost a year, living the life you've always wanted with our children and me," she explained, trying to convince him. "It won't hurt if you let go and be yourself, if we just are ourselves."
Sebastian remained silent for a few seconds that felt eternal for the woman. He knew Y/N was right, he knew nothing would happen if they showed themselves as the couple they were in private, but his shyer side, the most introverted one, the one that wanted to protect his privacy above all and, above all, his family, felt a kind of fear that this would end up making him completely vulnerable to public scrutiny.
"Alright, let's do the interview," the German finally said, causing his wife to start hopping around before pouncing on him and kissing him all over his face.
"Where should we start, Mr. Vettel?"
"What about giving Mrs. Vettel a kiss?" he replied, playing along with the game the journalist had started. "You know, to help ease any tensions..."
Sebastian didn't need to say anything more for his wife to take his face in her hands and pull him towards her, giving him a kiss that lasted not only longer than they would have allowed on another occasion, but also longer than they themselves expected.
They ended up pulling away after a few seconds, just as they began to hear cheers, applause, and comments from the other drivers, who were watching the couple enthralled, as they had never shown themselves in such a way during their years in Formula 1.
"Carry on with what you're doing!" the four-time world champion shouted, trying not to sound angry. "I don't want anything left unfinished!"
Y/N couldn't help but blush and lower her head in embarrassment at all the attention she was drawing.
"Um... shall we start now, darling?" the journalist spoke again, trying to regain control of the situation.
"Yes, yes, of course. Go ahead, ask me anything."
She quickly pulled out her notebook, where she had written down a large number of questions to ask her husband as if she hadn't actually worked hand in hand with him on the project. She tried to maintain professionalism despite the still uncomfortable situation they were immersed in.
Seb, who seemed to notice how tense the woman was, decided to do things a little differently, although it was more than obvious that it took him some effort to take the first step.
Quickly and with trembling hands, he wrapped his right arm around his wife's waist and slowly guided her to sit on the ground next to him. She resisted at first because, deep down, she was also afraid to show herself as she truly was with the love of her life; but when she saw how the German also invited the cameraman who was filming them to sit on the ground, she knew there was no choice but to listen to the guy who initially meant nothing to her but ended up becoming her everything.
"More comfortable like this, right, schön?" Sebastian wanted to know, even though he already knew the answer.
"Yes, I think it will be more comfortable, darling," she replied, allowing herself to be guided by her husband's behavior, although once again blushing slightly.
With her head resting on his shoulder, the journalist took her notebook in her hands again, flipping through the page where she had the first question of what would undoubtedly be the most fake interview not only she had ever done but probably would do in her extensive career as a journalist.
"Well, let's start, darling. What inspired you the most to start this biodiversity project?"
"Well, as you know, I've always felt a special connection with nature and the environment. Do you remember the conversations we used to have, like, I don't know, about twelve or thirteen years ago?" she nodded. Of course, she remembered. How could she forget when he revealed to her how much the issue mattered to him at his home in Monaco, even before they had started dating? "I wanted to do something to show the importance of biodiversity, so these bee hotels seemed perfect to me."
"And why Suzuka, Seb?"
"Do you really need an answer to that question?" the man countered, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you already knew."
Now it was Y/N who looked less than pleased. Of course she knew why he had chosen Suzuka, it's just that the viewers, possibly, didn't.
"Suzuka is a very special place for me, both professionally and personally," the German continued. "This place has witnessed many important moments of my life, and I wanted to somehow give back everything it has done for me. Its people, I mean," he hastened to add. The journalist laughed at the incoherence of the response, earning herself a playful punch on the arm and some affectionate insults.
The interview continued in such a way that, more than a recording that would be broadcast on various media later, it seemed like one of those informal chats the couple used to have in their room, lying on the bed they both shared, after reading a story to their children and leaving them completely asleep.
Laughs, knowing looks, and even some intimate memories that ended up being revealed to the camera flowed effortlessly. Sebastian couldn't stop playing with Sally's hands and hair, caressing them so delicately that she seemed like a porcelain doll. The journalist, on her part, couldn't stop running her index finger up and down her husband's arm, writing invisible messages about how much she loved him.
"To finish I'd like to know something, darling. How was the process of designing and building each one of those bee hotels?"
"As you already know, and for those who are watching, I was lucky to work with a local carpenter yesterday. We worked on them all day long, and even part of the night. There are eleven in total: one for each team, and one for me," replied the German with a big smile.
His wife started laughing, and her lips twisted in a way that it wasn't hard for Vettel to recognize that his wife was hiding something.
"In fact, there are twelve, Seb," the journalist said with a playful tone.
"What do you mean twelve?" he asked, quite confused. "Love, you were there yesterday. There were eleven. One for each team, one for every two drivers, and another for..."
"I made one myself and I painted it too. Well... some parts are already painted because I asked the kids, secretly, to paint them so you could have a little piece of them here..."
The former driver was impressed by his wife's confession, and he couldn't help but feel emotional. Even a couple of tears threatened to leave his eyes when he saw Y/N, completely excited, getting up from the grass and fixing her clothes before reaching out her hand to him.
"What are you waiting for, Seb? Come on, you have to see it!"
Seb followed her, feeling a mix of very strange emotions after sharing life with this girl for so many years. When they arrived, they stopped in front of it, Britta taking photos from every possible angle and then starting a video call with the couple's children, who were staying with Seb’s parents.
"Schön, this is... God, I have no words. It's incredible."
Y/N smiled proudly before heading towards the structure and start explaining him everything.
"I've drawn us here, right in the front," indeed, there were two larger figures next to three smaller ones, surrounded by flowers and trees. "And here are the kids' drawings. Honestly, I don't know what they've drawn, but... I knew it would make you happy to have a little piece of them too."
The blonde bent down in front of the hotel made by his wife, examining it carefully as he traced with his fingers the strokes that Emily, Matilda, and Ben had made who knows when, and that seemed to have been well hidden. They were simple, clumsy, but he knew that behind them there was something much more important: the purest love he had ever experienced and that nothing and no one could surpass, not even his wife.
"It's wonderful, Y/N. You have no idea what this means to me."
Y/N could only approach her husband and give him a chaste kiss on the lips, not caring this time what happened next.
"I did it for you, Seb. I love you, we love you," she corrected herself, turning towards the mobile phone in front of them that Britta still held, referring to their children, who could be heard excitedly. "You are the sunshine of our lives and you deserve much more than this."
Sebastian didn't hesitate to, once again, kiss Y/N, and then hug her tightly, continuing to give her kisses on her temples.
"I wouldn't be the sunshine of your life if you weren't in it," he whispered in her ear. "You are the sunshine of my life. I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything."
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joshhutchersonsgf · 2 months
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“million dollar man.” a derek danforth fic ♡
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nsfw | mdni | switch!derek | president assistant reader | fem!reader | lots of plot | cursing | slight degradation | hair pulling | arguing | oral (f receiving) | derek cums in his pants | could write a part 2?
an: smut starts after the third separator for all you horny people (this: ♡•♡•♡)
“mrs. danforth? your phone is ringing.”
her phone vibrates in your hand as you walk toward the conference room, only a few inches behind the president.
being the assistant of the woman in charge of an entire country was not an easy job. her orders were often strict and precise, and dealing with her son was a whole other story. it wasn’t uncommon for her to ask you to “take care” of him when he’s around, unfortunately. you loved your job, of course, but some things (or some people) made it hard to enjoy.
mrs. danforth takes her phone from your hand and answers it with concern.
“yes, derek, what do you want?” her stern strict voice questions.
damn it.
you pray to whatever god was up there that you didn’t have to deal with another one of his messes he can’t seem to clean up himself. you continue your path behind mrs. danforth, hoping to hear what derek has to say.
“i’m at the beach house. you’re welcome to join if you behave.” mrs. danforth tells derek.
you internally curse yourself for ever agreeing to this job in the first place.
she goes quiet for a moment, taking in what derek has to say. your eyes don’t leave the back of her head as she continues her signature strut through the hall. with every step she takes, she radiates nothing but confidence.
the guards around the both of you seem to pay no mind to her or the phone, and you begin to wonder if your body language has changed at all since mrs. danforth took the call. you sigh and roll your shoulders back, trying to keep perfect posture with every step.
“fine. no drugs.. give my assistant the details. love you. i have to go.” mrs. danforth quickly hangs up the phone and stops when she gets to the room filled with important people.
she turns to you and places her phone in your hands, then says, “derek’s joining me this weekend, help me keep him sober for the party.”
“yes ma’am, i love babysitting.” you smile, amusing yourself. she nods you off and puts a smile on her face, turning back to the people she’s here to talk to.
“madam president, this is..” you begin to introduce the people in a sorted line, all eager to meet your boss.
you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and when you leave the conference room, you see multiple texts from derek. he informs you about what time he’s arriving, who will all be with him, etc. you roll your eyes at the text and put your phone back in your pocket without replying.
♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡
on the day of derek’s arrival, mrs. danforth is no where to be found. she told you she had an important meeting in the afternoon and she was sure to be back before the party started. did she really leave you to take care of derek by yourself?
you wait for derek and the others outside of the beach house, the sun shining in your eyes. you look up, eyes squinting, and see derek’s private jet flying overhead. you look back down and try to look as professional as possible, hoping he could take you seriously.
when the jet lands, you put your hand above your eyes to block the sun. you definitely should have brought sunglasses.
you scan the aircraft for anything you should take note of. after the guards gets out, derek slowly steps out with an unopened bottle of vodka in hand.
you take a moment to really take in his appearance, and you could almost laugh. he was wearing a green suit with a yellow and greenish button up underneath, and his hair had been dyed blonde at the tips. he’s always had a “different” sense of style, but this really takes the cake.
derek walks up to you and looks you up and down, then looks around the property. you felt small when he looks at you like that, but remind yourself that you’re supposed to be in charge. you straighten your back, and follow his gaze around the beach house.
“where’s my mother?” he questions, still searching.
“she has an important meeting but she should be back before the guests arrive. your mom wouldn’t want you to have this, anyways.” you reply, taking the bottle from his hand.
“well if she’s not here, then it doesn’t matter, does it sweetheart?” he says, smirking. you roll your eyes at the nickname and turn around to walk away.
“no, but when she gets here,” you start, turning your head to the side to make sure he hears every word, “it will be my fault. so until your mommy gets here, i’ll be in charge.”
derek scoffs at your answer, but when he sees how serious you are, he frowns.
“come on, she won’t be here for a few hours. let a guy have some fun,” he drags out, hoping you’ll give in.
you laugh at his words, and it must really get to him. but before he can open his mouth add any stupid remark, you’re both happily greeted by the people at the front of the beach house waiting to take his belongings.
“here, take this,” you say, giving the bottle of vodka to the woman closest to you and leaning in, “and put it somewhere he can’t find it.” you add in a quiet voice that you know derek won’t hear.
you turn back to him and smile innocently, then begin telling the woman you would like everything to be.
“what the fuck? that was some expensive wine, you know,” derek says to you. you couldn’t care less about the price of it, as long as it wasn’t in his hands before mrs. danforth got here. you were given an order, and you weren’t going to disobey it.
“derek?” you begin, completely ignoring his words. “tell this nice lady where to put your stuff, hm?”
♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡
derek seems absolutely miserable and he’s only been here an hour. you confiscated everything his mother ordered you to take the second he walked in the door, and of course he tried to fight to keep every last thing.
“i don’t understand what the big deal is. my mom won’t be here for a while, anyways.” he argues, watching you search through his last suitcase, frowning when you pull out a small bag of white powder.
“your mom may not be here, but i will.” you correct, turning behind you to give the last of his “hidden items” to the maid.
you glance over derek’s shoulder to check the clock behind him. you still have time until mrs. danforth gets here, so you might as well start getting ready.
“i’m going to go change, stay here.” you tell derek, smiling when he furrows his eyebrows at your order.
“i’m not a dog, stop ordering me around like one.” he grumbles with his arms crossed.
you give him a toothy smile and turn away, making your way up the stairs to the room you’re staying in.
you open up the door and immediately start searching through the top drawer of your dresser. you wanted to look nice, of course, but not too nice. you’ve done nothing but wear your absolute best business attire everyday for as long as you can remember with this job, and you finally got to wear something different.
you find the perfect dress that fits your body well, and you smile at your reflection in the mirror, seeing how well the dress looks on you. it’s been forever since you’ve let yourself wear anything other than the best, so wearing this felt so freeing. even though it was still pretty nice, it wasn’t business attire.. and you loved that. you take one last look at yourself then walk down the stairs.
you go into the main room and see derek sitting on the couch, talking to one of his colleagues.
you would have to be blind if you missed derek’s reaction.
derek’s eyes widen the moment he sees you and you thought they would pop out of his head. he sets down the glass in his hand after he chokes on the contents inside.
“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you taunt, sitting down next to him on the sofa.
derek scoffs at your comment and starts picking at the side of his face, another one of his habits you didn’t like.
“don’t do that,” you scold, swatting his hand away, “it will leave scars.”
“and why do you care what i do, sweetheart?” derek questions, even though he already put his hand down.
you roll your eyes at the nickname he knows you hate, throwing your head back against the cushion. derek’s friend dismisses himself and begins greeting others the hallway, leaving you and derek alone. you find yourself in the company of derek, finally enjoying a private moment together, free from any outside disturbances.
you glance over to derek to see him already staring at you, then quickly looks away when you make eye contact.
“are you seriously going to wear.. that?” you ask derek, pulling on his green blazer. he takes offense to your comment, ripping his shirt out of your grip.
“calm down, derek. i’m just kidding.” you say, smiling widely at him. he folds his arms and turns away from you like a child. you laugh at his reaction and close your eyes, leaning your head on your hand that lays on the armrest. the silence was nice.
your eyes furrow when you realize how quiet derek is being. you’ve known derek for as long as you’ve had this job, and him being quiet was extremely rare, almost impossible. the silence was wonderful, and you could actually almost tolerate derek.
your eyes flutter open and you see derek staring at the wall, deep in thought. you observe the way the soft glow from the sun outside the window dances across his features. it would be impossible to not realize how beautiful derek was. sure, he had an .. interesting way of expressing himself through his outfits (or hair), but his features were mesmerizing. you look down at his hands that now rest in his lap, and you can’t help your mind from wandering.
no, you can’t think about that kind of stuff with your boss’s son, you thought. but you really can’t help it. attempting to break the silence, you clear your throat to get derek’s attention.
“what are you thinking about, sweetheart?” you say, using his own stupid nickname for you against him. like you pulled him out of a trance, he looks up at you and shakes his head.
“sorry” he apologizes, cracking his knuckles against his thigh.
“i’ve never seen you so quiet, derek. what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” you question, suddenly gaining a new found sense of confidence.
derek cocks an eyebrow at you and smirks, but before he can say anything, a housekeeper walks into the room you and derek are situated in.
“excuse me, mrs. danforth is here.”
you thank the woman for informing you both and look over at derek, seeing that he’s already standing up. derek quickly dismisses himself and you sigh, the room feeling empty without his presence.
soon, the party will start, you thought to yourself. did mrs. danforth seriously expect you to be able to keep a man like derek danforth away from any drugs for the entire duration of the party? your tongue plays with the side of your mouth as you think, soon following derek outside.
♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡
once guests started arriving, you realized how out of place you felt. you wanted to enjoy the party on your own, but instead you have to watch derek like a child. you have not let derek out of your sight for the whole party, but when you realize you haven’t seen him for more than a few moments to get a drink, your heart sinks.
you quickly search around the party, desperately trying to find him. you ask people if they’ve seen him, and when they shake their heads, you feel a heat rush to your face.
why did you have to be his personal babysitter? if he can’t stay sober for one weekend, that’s completely his fault. it shouldn’t be your responsibility to constantly keep up with a twenty eight year old man all the time.
you stop in the middle of the crowded room and take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. when you spot derek, you’re not sure if you’re happy or angry. you see him leaning against the doorframe, talking to a girl you don’t recognize. feeling upset and relieved emotions intertwine, you walk over to him and grab his arm tightly. he jumps at the touch, but when he turns around and sees who it is, his eyebrows furrow.
“can’t you see i’m in the middle of a conversation?” derek asks, slightly annoyed that you interrupted him.
“i need to talk to you,” you scowl, completely avoiding his question. before he can pick a fight, you practically drag him by his arm into the hallway. you pull him into the first empty room you find and slam the door behind you, locking it just in case anyone decides to interrupt.
“what the hell, derek?” you scold, annoyed that he wandered from you, “why did you walk away?”
“i’m not some child that needs to be told what to do, I’m a grown man.” derek snaps at you.
even though you’re annoyed with him, you can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips at his words.
“what’s so funny? do you know how embarrassing it feels to have someone have to constantly watch me like i’m some child?” derek throws his hands in the air dramatically and stares at you sharply, waiting for a reply.
you honestly didn’t know what to say. you will admit that you’ve only thought about yourself today, and didn’t bother to think about how it made derek feel.
you walk closer to him and study his features for a moment. you see the way his jaw clenches slightly, and how there’s a hint of red in his face. you didn’t mean to upset him, but with his child-like temper, it’s really not hard to push his buttons.
“you know, i wouldn’t have to babysit you if you could just listen to what your mom says.” you argue, pointing a finger in his face.
derek’s voice is now filled with irritation and annoyance,“you might be my moms assistant, but I’m the one that decides what i want to do and what i don’t want to do. i don’t need to take orders from someone who only cares about what my mother has to say, not about me.” derek’s eyes narrow as he keeps eye contact with you, not wanting to look away.
your eyes widen as you look into his, shocked at what he had to say. you open your mouth but no words come out, and derek scoffs at you.
“don’t have anything to say?” derek taunts.
you stare into his eyes for a few moments more, then look at the ground in defeat. you look to see derek’s hands clenched, his nails digging into the palm.
“i do care about you, derek. but you have to realize that if your mom tells me to do something, i have to do it. it’s my job.” you explain, voice more calm than before. derek rolls his eyes and sighs.
“did my mother tell you that she’ll give you a raise if you pretend to care about me?” he asks, annoyance lingering in his voice. your face scrunches up at his harsh words. you couldn’t believe he thought so lowly of you.
“this might sound crazy to you, derek, but not everything is about money. i’m actually a real person with genuine feelings.”
the tension in the room is almost suffocating, and you can’t stand to see derek annoyed.
derek opens his mouth to say something back, but before he can get one word out, you cut him off with a kiss. he pushes you back slightly, confused as to why you just did that. embarrassment washes over you but before you dwell on it, derek grabs your face roughly and begins to kiss you again.
you knew that derek would not be a gentle man, but the way he was kissing you had you convinced your lips would be sore the next morning. he bites your bottom lip aggressively, pulling your lips apart so he can put his tongue inside.
derek groans when he first feels your tongue brush against his, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. he wastes no time exploring your mouth harshly, like the only oxygen left in the world was from your lips.
derek’s lips tastes slightly sweet and you swore you could get drunk on the taste.
even though his kiss was aggressive, he begins to rub soothing circles with his thumbs on the side of your face. the feeling of his calloused hands holding your face while he was kissing you had your mind racing and begging for more.
he pulls away from your lips, looking at how your lips are already swollen. he puts his bottom lip between his teeth, staring at you thoughtfully. derek softly kisses your lips a few more times, contradicting the previous kisses he left. he grabs you by your hips and drags you to the bed, pushing you on your back. you gasp at the impact, not expecting to be manhandled like the way he is handling you now.
“don’t know how long i’ve been wanting to do this,” derek whispers and crawls over you, situating himself between your legs. derek reconnects your lips again and it feels even better than before. his kisses are so hungry and desperate for yours. you felt like forgot how to breathe.
this is wrong, you thought to yourself. this is all wrong. you shouldn’t be making out with your boss’s son under her own roof. your mind keeps telling you to stop and leave him there, but your body is aching for his touch. if it was so wrong, why did it feel so good?
derek’s hips slowly rut against your clothed cunt and you swear you’re on cloud nine. everything was moving so fast and it felt like the room was spinning. you whine loudly against his lips and he swallows your sounds.
after breaking the kiss, he brings his head down and begins to suck dark circles into your neck. you put your hand in his hair and start playing with his bleached curls, tugging lightly on the ends.
when derek finds your sweet spot just above your collarbone, he abuses it with tongue and sucks on it harshly. while he does so, you accidentally pull his hair a bit too hard, but to your surprise, he doesn’t get upset. instead, he groans loudly and his hips jolt forward aggressively.
you smile at this new discovery and start pulling his curls harder, which quickly turns him into a mess. he can’t help the moans that come out of his mouth with every pull while simultaneously pushing his hips down to meet yours. he felt like a horny teenager, dry humping you for pleasure.
even though he didn’t want to stop, he also didn’t want to cum completely untouched. he wanted to hold out for as long as possible, but considering how much he’s daydreamed about this happening, he knew he wouldn’t last as long as he wanted to.
derek pulls away from your neck and looks back up at you, staring at your face in complete admiration. your lips are formed into a puffy pout while your eyebrows are pinched together softly. you looked so needy like this, and he was thankful he wasn’t the only one. he looks down at your body underneath him, eyes locking on the way your hips are angled up.
derek brings hand down to your aching cunt and pulls your underwear to the side. he runs his middle finger through your folds and his eyes widen.
“jesus christ, you’re this wet for me?” he smirks, his confidence skyrocketing.
you wanted to argue with him, but all you could do was shudder when his calloused finger began to circle your clit with slow, antagonizing circles. you didn’t want him to see how good he made you feel, so in an attempt to silence your moans, you put your bottom lip between your teeth. all this does is make derek move his finger faster. your mouth falls open in an ‘o’ shape, and derek feels accomplished when a loud moan leaves your lips.
derek replaces his middle finger with his thumb on your clit and slowly slides his middle finger in.
“you’re so fucking tight,” derek groans, watching as your pussy swallows his finger. he gives you a moment to adjust before he curls it a few times, perfectly hitting the spongey spot inside of you.
you pull him up by his collar and kiss him again, trying to hide your moans. derek muffles every sound you make and loving every second of it. he wishes he could hear every sound from you, but knew you wouldn’t let him hear you easily.
you were stubborn and he knew that. you didn’t want derek to know that you’ve been thinking about this as long as he has, but when he adds another finger, you’re falling apart.
his fingers feeling perfect inside of you, with his thumb massaging your clit. derek pulls away from your lips and looks back down at his hand, then back up at you.
“can i taste you?” derek asks, searching your face for approval.
you swore you could cum from hearing those words alone.
“yes, please. you whine a bit too loud, then quickly cover your mouth with your hand.
“you want the whole house to hear how much of a whore you are for the president’s son?” derek mocks.
you moan against your hand at his words, eyes rolling back when he curls his fingers in a certain way inside of you. you push his head down to your cunt, begging for him to eat you out. derek pulls his fingers out of you for a moment to pull your underwear off, and the coolness in the air made your hips jolt.
derek smirks at your action, then places his head between your thighs. you look down at him to see him already staring at you.
you push his head against your pussy, moaning when his nose brushes against your clit. you take your hand off your mouth and move both of your hands into his hair, guiding him through it.
derek licks your pussy from your cunt up to your clit a few times, tasting you.
“you taste so fucking good.” he mumbles against you, and the vibrations of his words have you a mess. you knew you wouldn’t last long with him like this, especially after he fingered you earlier.
you wrap your legs around his head tightly, trapping him between your thighs. he seems to pay no mind though, since he just continues to lap your pussy like his life depended on it.
the way derek sucks on your clit sends a shiver down your spine. you feel the bed shaking slightly, and when you look down, you see his hips rutting against the bed. your eyes widen when you see that, surprised that he can get off so easily just by eating you out. the thought has you clenching around nothing as he continues to suck on your clit, using his tongue to flick it harshly.
you arch your back against the bed, throwing your head back against the pillows. you pull on derek’s bleached curls and he moans against your clit loudly.
you cry out at the feeling, pushing your hips against his face. derek lets you get yourself off with his tongue, the bed only shaking more due to derek’s movements.
you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, taking in the feeling. derek’s stubble is rubbing against your thighs, and you wondered if they would be marked. you didn’t want to think about anything other than the feeling of derek eating you out though, so you quickly push the thought of your mind.
derek’s hands are gripping your outer thighs tightly, leaving crescent moon shaped marks.
the sound of the bed shaking is now evident, you and derek both rutting your hips for pleasure.
“derek— fuck, i’m gonna cum.” you whimper, hoping derek can hear you with how tightly your squeezing his head between your legs. derek only speeds up his movements against your clit, sucking on your clit harshly. he takes his two fingers he previously had inside of you and pushes them back in. the stretch around his fingers felt perfect.
he curls them up into you at a quickening pace, even moving them in and out of you for more stimulation.
after a few more curls of his moving fingers, you’re gushing around them. you lock derek’s hair in your fingers and pull up, moving his head in the way you want to. derek groans loudly and ruts his hips down a few more times. one of his hands is shaking on your thigh as the other continues to fuck you through your orgasm.
you see stars with how hard you came, completely going limp against the bed. derek doesn’t slow down, his tongue perfectly overstimulating your clit. soon though, it becomes too much, and you’re pulling him off of you.
derek slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you whine at the loss. he plops down next to you, breathing heavily. your slick is coating his face, and he looks beautiful. his curls were now all messed up due to you constantly pulling at them. there was a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead, and he was shaking slightly. you kiss him again, but not like before. you kiss him slowly, enjoying the moment. you gasp against his lips when you taste yourself on his tongue. derek lets you take control of the kiss, following your touch as you explore his mouth, continuing to taste yourself.
you pull away, putting your forehead against derek’s. you close your eyes, letting yourself fully relax.
“thank you,” you whisper to derek, who seems to be just as tired as you are. you look down at his pants, seeing a wet stain on the front of them. your eyes widen and derek follows your gaze, gasping when he sees what he did.
did he seriously cum in his pants while eating you out?
taglist: @xcherryerim @laurrrelise
221 notes · View notes
helloalycia · 1 month
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𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑
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one / two / three / masterlist / wattpad
summary: when Jackie gets into a fight with Eve, she stops talking to you before finally revealing a bombshell that changes your relationship forever.
warning/s: mentions of underage drinking and of cheating.
author's note: here is the long awaited part 4! glad to see this one got a bit more interest, it was a fun one to write. this particular part is longer than the others, but i couldn’t split it so yeah, enjoy :)
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After that random encounter with Eve at the arcade, I never really expected her presence to affect Jackie and I again. Oh, how wrong I was.
Jeff and I were at school to watch another Yellowjackets game, coincidentally against Eve's team, the Lions. Of course, I didn't think much of it as I was only here to support the team and Jackie. Jeff was waiting in the bleachers for me whilst I went to grab something I'd forgotten from my locker since I was already at school. It was on the way out and back to the bleachers when Eve found me, giving me a playful smirk.
"Well, if it isn't Y/N Sadecki," she said, eyeing me.
"Eve," I acknowledged with a nod.
"You here to support your little girlfriend?"
Knowing she was talking about Jackie, I felt my cheeks grow warm and tried to remain indifferent. "Jackie's just a friend."
"You should tell her that," Eve suggested with a knowing look.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, knowing she was trying to wind me up for whatever reason.
"It's unfortunate you have to watch me beat her," she said with a satisfied smile.
"You can try," I retorted, defending the Yellowjackets.
All Eve did was smirk before walking away to rejoin her team on the pitch. As I watched her go, I noticed Jackie in the distance, watching the two of us and glaring at Eve. The game was about to start so she couldn't do much, but I hoped she knew there was nothing happening between us. The last thing I wanted was for Jackie to think I liked her arch nemesis, especially after we almost kissed a year ago.
The referee blew his whistle, signalling for the players to get in position, so I returned to my seat beside Jeff as Jackie was forced to let it go for now.
"Popcorn?" Jeff asked when I took a seat.
I accepted it wordlessly, stuffing my face as I watched the game with anticipation.
The game started out pretty tense, with both sides getting close to scoring but eventually getting beat by each other's defenders. It was almost half time and everybody could sense a tension between Jackie and Eve, with the latter blocking every attempt Jackie made to score. She was following the blonde like a shadow, never giving her chance to breathe, and though that was expected, it was a little more extra than usual. Even from where I was sat, I could see Jackie getting frustrated by her presence.
Just before half time, Shauna was racing towards the goal, kicking the ball to Jackie. Everybody was on their feet as they watched her approach, ready to score, but out of nowhere, Eve performed a sliding tackle. Jackie hit the grass instantly, making everyone wince at how hard she landed on her knees.
The referee blew the whistle – possibly a yellow card? – and Jackie was sitting upright and fixing Eve with a glare. Then Eve must have said something to piss her off because before anyone could react, Jackie got up and shoved Eve backwards on the grass. She looked like she was about to go at her again, but Shauna intervened and held Jackie back as she yelled something at Eve. The referee was frantically blowing his whistle as a few more players broke up their almost-fight, and the crowd stared with surprise, wondering what was happening.
As Jackie was escorted off pitch by the referee, I could see Coach Scott scolding her, but she didn't seem to care. Very unlike her, she rolled her eyes and walked off.
"The hell was that?" Jeff muttered with confusion.
I shook my head. "I don't know... but I should see if she's okay." 
He nodded as I got up to leave, hoping Jackie was alright. Not only did that sliding tackle look painful, but clearly Eve had set her off, and Jackie wasn't easy to piss off.
I followed after her as she stormed inside the school, but she didn't get far when I called after her in the empty hallway.
"Jackie, are you okay? What was that?"
She didn't stop marching forward as she answered, "Leave me alone."
I furrowed my brows. "What? Jackie, I just–"
Suddenly, she stopped and turned around to glare at me. "I didn't ask for your help, now go."
Taken aback, I swallowed awkwardly. "I didn't–"
"Why the hell were you talking to her?" she interrupted, hazel eyes staring into my soul.
Feeling lost, I said, "What?"
She mimicked me, "What?" before scoffing angrily. "Don't play dumb, Y/N. Eve. Why were you talking to her?"
Unsure what this had to do with anything presently, I decided not to let her accusatory tone get to me. "She talked to me."
Jackie rolled her eyes. "How convenient."
Definitely lost, I asked, "You're mad at me? For that?" When she didn't answer, her jaw clenching, I said, "What did she say to you out there? Why are you upset?"
She shook her head, suppressing a frown. "Just leave me alone."
And with that, she stormed off towards the locker room, leaving me super confused and also super curious as to what Eve could have said to rile her up.
I hoped she'd calm down within a day or so and finally talk to me, but all weekend after the game, she'd been avoiding my calls. And if her mum picked up, she'd lie terribly saying Jackie wasn't there. I didn't understand why she was so pissed at me when Eve was the one who'd annoyed her. Could she really be angry at me for one conversation?
The only reason I finally got through to Jackie on the Sunday afternoon was because she picked up without meaning to.
"Jackie, wait, please!" I exclaimed, not wanting to lose her. "I don't want to fight. I just want to fix this."
To my surprise, she stayed on. "What?"
I swallowed hard. "You've been ignoring me. I... I know you're upset, but I just want to fix this."
I heard her sigh on the other side, but she said nothing.
"What did I do?" I asked in a pleading voice. "Tell me and I'll make it right." She fell silent and I sighed tiredly. "Okay, well, can you tell me what Eve said to upset you? You've never acted like that in a game before. You're supposed to be the team captain."
Just when I was convinced I was talking to myself, she finally spoke quietly. "She was saying how she was going to win the game." She paused, then reluctantly continued, "And you. Talking about how irresistible the Sadeckis were and how you were next on her list. That it was a shame she couldn't get to Jeff first."
My eyes widened slightly, not expecting that. 
Sighing, Jackie admitted, "It sounds stupid now I'm saying it aloud. I never cared what she thought, she's just some girl. But I... I saw her talking to you and I just– I thought–"
She didn't finish, and I tried not to hold my breath, not wanting to read into it.
"Jackie, that's nonsense," I assured her kindly. "She was just smack talking you to get to you and she succeeded in that. I wish you hadn't let her."
"I know," she agreed. A pause, and then: "I'm sorry for getting upset and yelling at you. I was just pissed."
"It's okay," I said, giving in. "Just..."
"No," she suddenly said, a little more confidently. "I wasn't pissed. I was jealous."
Eyebrows furrowing, I said, "What?"
Upset, she continued, "She doesn't get to do that! Everything I've ever wanted, Eve tries to take. Jeff. Winning states."
I wasn't sure what to say, sensing her frustration through the phone.
"You," she finished, making me second guess if I'd heard correctly. Judging by my silence, she added, "Yes, I want you."
Jaw dropping a little, I said, "What?"
"I don't want to do this over the phone," she said, exhaling deeply.
"Jackie–"
"I've gotta go," she said, and hung up before I could say anything else.
I couldn't move for a moment, reeling at what she'd just said. Did she just admit she liked me?
Jackie's words were on my mind for the rest of the weekend and well into Monday. I tried ringing her again, but there was no response so my only hope was to see her in school and talk it out there.
But at school, I didn't see her around like usual. At lunch time, I found Shauna eating, who redirected me to the library, and that was where I ended up finding her. She was tucked between some shelves, looking for a book, and I told myself it was now or never before approaching her.
"I've been looking for you everywhere," I said quietly, aware we were still in the library and also not wanting to startle her. Still, she jumped a little.
Recovering from her surprise, she remained focused on the bookshelf. "I was studying."
"You avoided my calls," I reminded her. "Dropped a bombshell then hung up."
She swallowed visibly, before glancing at me. "Sorry."
Her eyes didn't linger for long, and she was back to looking at the books.
"i just want an explanation, Jackie," I told her.
She shrugged nonchalantly. "There's not much to say."
Her feigned innocence was admittedly starting to frustrate me, and I frowned as she continued to avoid my gaze.
"What did you mean when you said you wanted me?" I asked outright, tired of beating around the bush.
She mumbled, "Nothing."
"Jackie," I pressed, impatiently.
"Really, nothing," she assured me with a quick glance.
"It wasn't nothing. Not to you. Or you wouldn't have hung up. Wouldn't have gotten so upset."
She pressed her lips together, sighing deeply, and I gave her the benefit of the doubt when I watched as she seemed to struggle with an internal conflict.
"Jackie–"
"Fine," she said suddenly, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "It was something."
I waited, heart sinking to my stomach the longer she took to speak.
"I want you," she finally admitted, turning to face me with a worried expression. "Because I fucking like you. And you make me happy. And I hate that I didn't see it sooner. But there it is."
It was as if someone was squeezing my insides, everything shrinking into nothingness as she said the impossible.
"But... but why is that a bad thing?" I asked softly.
She exhaled, shaking her head and looking away. "It's not. It's just... complicated."
I tried to meet her eyes. "Why? Because of Jeff?"
Saddened eyes finally met mine, accompanying a guilty nod. And it spurred me on for some reason, because the girl I liked actually liked me back, and how the hell was that possible?
"I don't really give a shit about what he would think," I said truthfully, surprising her. "What anyone would think."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
It was hard not to laugh as the realisation of my situation dawned on me. "I liked you way before he did, Jackie. I've had a crush on you for years. Why the hell would I let him get in the way of that now that I have a chance?"
The fact that she seemed genuinely taken aback by my admission made me wonder if I'd hid my crush well enough all these years, or if she was just terribly unobservant. Either way, she didn't know what to say as she tried to study my expression.
"I do have a chance now, right?" I asked with a shocking amount of confidence than I thought I was capable of.
As if the roles were reversed, she struggled for words. "I– yes, but–"
That was all the confirmation I needed when I stepped forward and kissed her, hoping to put her mind at ease. She relaxed against me, kissing me back slowly and carefully and in a way that made me forget anything other than her.
After a moment, I pulled away to speak, but she grabbed me by the shirt, tugging me back to her lips, and I didn't argue it. My arms wrapped around her waist, her back gently hitting the bookshelf behind her, and she didn't let go of my shirt as she held me in place, lips devouring mine.
My mind was spinning and my insides were humming with desire once we pulled apart for air, and I could still barely believe I'd just made out with Jackie Taylor.
"Now what?" I breathed out, eyes flickering between hers.
She caught her breath. "Well, I like you and you like me."
"Yeah..."
A ghost of a smile was on her lips as she let her head fall to my shoulder with feigned frustration. "Jeff is gonna be pissed."
I snorted with amusement, shaking my head. "He doesn't have to know. Not for now, at least."
She hummed in agreement, pulling her head back to look at me again, though this time truly looking at me. I grew nervous under her gaze, any confidence I had disappearing.
"Sorry, you were studying," I said lamely, though in my defence, I didn't expect to interrupt her by making out with her between the shelves.
She shrugged like it was a mere inconvenience before tugging me back to her lips, and of course, I couldn't resist Jackie Taylor's charm.
Sometimes I couldn't quite believe I was in a relationship with Jackie, albeit a secret one. But then she'd look at me in a way that only I knew meant more and I thanked my lucky stars she liked me back.
When we were in the presence of others, we'd act like we always did, though Jackie would sometimes leave lingering touches or stare at me for a little too long, and I always warned her not to make it so obvious but she seemed to take that as a challenge.
Not even Y/BF/N knew, and one time at school, she grew suspicious. Again, all Jackie's fault, but I'd like to think I denied it pretty well. I was at my locker talking to Y/BF/N about our Music class assignment when Jackie approached us with her usual smile.
"Hey," she said to us both.
"'Sup, Jackie," Y/BF/N greeted, returning her smile.
"Not much, just wanted to ask Y/N if she was still on for studying later," she said, glancing at me. Funnily enough, that wasn't code for anything – she was actually gonna help me study. But the way her hand rested on my forearm as she awaited an answer definitely earned a second glance from Y/BF/N.
I nodded, remembering I had her notes in my locker and grabbing them. "Yeah, that's fine. Can you take these? I'm just gonna forget otherwise."
She accepted the notes, finally letting go of my arm, stuffing them between her books in her hand. "Awesome. I'll catch you later then."
"See you later, Jackie," I replied, and her gaze definitely lingered a second longer than it should've, making my cheeks grow warm at the attention. I broke our stare and she chuckled before walking away, probably not even realising she'd done anything out of the ordinary.
I cleared my throat, about to resume my conversation with Y/BF/N, but she was glancing back at Jackie before quirking a brow at me.
"What?" I asked, closing my locker.
"The hell was that?"
I played dumb. "I don't know what you mean."
She looked at me with disbelief before tracing her hand up my arm exaggeratedly. With a high pitched voice, she mimicked Jackie, "Oh, Y/N, I do hope we're still on for studying later!"
I slapped her hand away, avoiding her eyes. "Oh, be quiet, that's not what happened."
She followed me as I attempted to walk away. "Isn't it? Girl, that was weird, even for Jackie." When I didn't reply, she asked, "Are you two together?"
I scoffed a little too quickly, glancing at her sideways. "You're kidding, right? She's Jackie Taylor."
Y/BF/N narrowed her eyes at me with suspicion. "You didn't say no."
I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Okay then, no, we're not. You done now?"
Thankfully she dropped the subject, but I was still a little nervous at being found out. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, but telling her just meant it was one step closer to getting to Jeff. And Jackie and I were still new – there was less pressure this way.
"Lottie Matthews is loaded," Tommy said what everyone was thinking.
The band and I were stood outside Lottie's house, a party which she had invited us to and was paying us to perform at this evening, thanks to Jackie's recommendation.
"C'mon, they'll be waiting," Y/BF/N encouraged us all, snapping us out of our daze of admiration, before leading the way.
We brought our equipment inside, past the few guests that had arrived a little earlier than they were supposed to, and Lottie and Jackie were there to greet us.
"You all look great!" Jackie exclaimed with a smile once she spotted us, before her eyes landed on me and her smile softened into one that was only reserved for me. "Love the coordination."
I rolled my eyes playfully, though felt my cheeks flushing at the attention.
"Thanks again for having us, Lottie," Aaron thanked her for all of us. "Where d'you want us setting up?"
Lottie began to lead the way to the gigantic living room, the others dragging their equipment with them, and I was about to join them when I felt Jackie tugging me back.
"Hello to you too," I said with a stifled chuckle as she pulled me into her, almost knocking heads.
"You look really good," she said quietly, eyes looking me up and down.
"So do you," I returned, squeezing her hand in mine before glancing around then sneaking a quick kiss. "I should go help the band. But I'll see you around, Jackie."
She sighed childishly but nodded, letting me go, and I tried not to laugh as I followed after the others. I'd like to say that she was good at keeping us a secret for the rest of the party, but every encounter we had went pretty much like that.
As more people showed up, the party was in full swing within half an hour, and what a party it was. Lottie's house was practically a mansion, with a games room, cinema room, a huge pool in the garden and more than enough rooms for people to sneak into. Between sets, the band and I promised we'd stay sober, only here for the music (and Jackie), but that didn't mean we couldn't witness some hilarious stunts pulled by other kids stupid enough to drink their body weight in alcohol.
It was quite the affair, and it was made even better when I remembered how much Lottie was paying us to perform. Her parents were filthy rich, so what was probably pocket money to her was going straight into my savings for college.
After yet another exhilarating performance, I was waved over to Jackie who immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me to the empty spot by the dining table to talk. We perched ourselves on the edge of the table, hands a mere few inches away from one another, and it took every ounce of willpower for me to not touch her. I couldn't help it, she just looked so beautiful.
"You guys are playing so well tonight," she complimented sweetly, before tilting her head to look at me with a cheeky glint in her eyes. "You finally gonna tell me who that last song was about?"
I rolled my eyes playfully, remembering the last time she'd asked me that at the fair. Except this time, she was definitely playing dumb to embarrass me. "Something tells me you know, Jackie."
"Yeah, but I have to hear you say it," she continued to tease, finally resting her hand on top of mine.
I gave her a knowing look, smile creeping on my lips. "You know it's about you."
She feigned surprised, hand to her chest. "Really? I never would have guessed! Gosh, Y/N, I'm so touched!"
I shook my head with dismay as she laughed at her own joke. We stayed there for a little longer, her catching me up with some dumb stuff she'd witnessed tonight and also pestering me about a date she wanted me to take her on, and I loved every second of it. Because everybody was stuck in their own world, the closeness between Jackie and I wasn't even suspicious.
Unfortunately, that got interrupted when some guy approached us, drink in hand and definitely a little tipsy as he struggled to stand upright.
"Hey, ladies," he bellowed over the radio playing through the speakers.
Neither Jackie or I said anything as we waited for him to either speak or leave.
"You're the girl who plays the guitar, right?" he slurred his words a little, meeting my eyes. "I never thought I'd like a lady musician, but there's something about the way you–"
"I'm not interested," I told him firmly.
He blinked, not expecting that, before looking to Jackie and trying his luck once more. "How about you? You're a–"
"Don't even think about it," she told him with a judgemental stare.
He rolled his eyes at the rejection before downing the cup in his hand and walking away.
"Y'know, I love that people are finally seeing how hot you are an' all, but I also hate it," Jackie admitted with a half smile, glancing at me.
I breathed out, chuckling at her honesty. "It's a good thing I've got eyes for someone else, isn't it?"
She pressed her lips together, bright eyes flickering between mine distractedly, and then her expression softened. "I really wanna kiss you right now."
I nudged my shoulder with hers gently. "Later. I promise."
She pouted adorably, only making me want to kiss her, but I managed to hold back. And this didn't seem to sit right with her as she jumped off the edge of the table and spun around to face me, holding out her hand.
"What?" I asked, resting my hand in hers.
Once she closed her grasp on it, she dragged me through the bodies of guests before pulling me into a room that I'd never been in before. It looked like some sort of pantry in the kitchen, well-stocked, I couldn't lie. But I barely got chance to ask her what she was doing before she pressed her lips to mine, kissing me hard.
All night I'd wanted to kiss her. but clearly she'd wanted it just as much as she pulled me close, barely letting me breathe as we made out between the dried pasta and sweetcorn cans. The party was merely a distant memory as I tuned out the chatter of the guests and the beat of the speakers, instead succumbing to the taste of Jackie's lips and the scent of her perfume.
We were breathless when we finally pulled apart, her hands encasing my face between them, my breath tickling her lips.
"You really couldn't wait, could you?" I spoke, a hint of amusement in my voice.
She scoffed lightheartedly, shoving me back. "Shut up."
I laughed quietly. "Bit desperate, isn't it? For Jackie Taylor?"
She quirked a brow, finger fixing her smudged lip gloss. "Really? Says the one who wrote a million songs about me?"
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Touché."
She smirked, before fixing her hair too. "I'm gonna go. You should too if you wanna make your next set."
"Yeah, yeah..."
She winked before leaving me alone in the pantry, and I made sure my own lipstick was fixed before heading out.
The party went on until pretty late into the night, and it was after midnight when Lottie and Jackie began kicking stragglers out. The band called it a night, but I felt bad leaving Lottie and her friends to clean up alone, so I stayed back to help out. By the time we were done, I offered to give Jackie a ride home, mostly because I just wanted to make sure she got back safely.
"Your mum knows you're with me, right?" she asked from the passenger's seat as I was driving.
"Yep," I said between a yawn. "You think she would've trusted me out this late alone?"
Jackie let out a tired chuckle, leaning against the door. "Yeah, she loves me."
I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Whatever."
"Sleepover at mine," she insisted. "It's already late. I don't want you driving back alone. You might as well."
I glanced at her. "You're sure?"
She nodded. "You're overdue cuddles anyway. It's only fair."
This brought a smile to my face. "It's only fair. Uh-huh."
Even tired, she was adorable, and I couldn't say no. Plus, I was exhausted and it was the weekend, so what was the harm?
Once I arrived at Jackie's, we headed straight to her room and collapsed in her bed together, tired but content as we wrapped ourselves up in one another. The perfect end to a perfect night.
I changed the notes on my music sheet, giving my composition another go on the piano. It sounded a lot better now, but I still wasn't happy with it. I was working on my assignment for Music class, having booked out the classroom and piano for today's lunch to hopefully get some inspiration away from my bedroom. It was working, kind of.
As I chewed my lip, tapping the same key over and over thoughtfully, I heard footsteps behind me and glanced over my shoulder.
"Jackie," I said, surprised but smiling at her presence.
"So this is why you ditched me," she said jokingly, before standing by my side and resting a hand on my shoulder.
"I'm working on my assignment," I reminded her with a knowing look.
"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, a ghost of a smile on her lips before she nudged me over and took a seat on the piano bench beside me.
She began to press some random keys with her finger, making me stifle a laugh.
"Like Beethoven himself," I teased, and she shoved me in the shoulder without looking up.
"You're shit at soccer, so zip it," she reminded me, making me groan.
"You're never letting me live that down, are you?"
Finally, she glanced at me with a quirked brow and an amused glint in her eyes. "What part? The bloody nose? The missing the goal a billion times? Or the breathlessness after running only one lap around the field?"
I pressed my lips together, narrowing my eyes her way. "I hate you."
She laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to my cheek before returning her attention to the piano. "Yeah, no you don't. Now, teach me how to play something."
I sighed, knowing she wouldn't leave me be if I didn't, so I taught her a few chords, enough to satisfy her urge to be skilled in something she really wasn't. Okay, a little mean, she actually wasn't terrible. But she was impatient and very easily distracted, and I was running short on time.
"Okay, Jackie, I actually need to do my work now," I said apologetically.
She sighed dramatically, giving me a doe-eyed look. "Fiiiiine, if you must."
"If you really wanna learn, I can teach you properly another time," I promised her, tilting my head towards her, mimicking her expression.
"Nah, I just wanted to spend some time with you, but I can see I'm not wanted nor loved," she said, keeping up with her dramatics as she stood up.
"Jackie." I laughed as she lingered, slowly approaching the door.
"Until next time, I suppose," she continued, and I rolled my eyes at her theatrics as she left the classroom.
God, she could be annoying sometimes.
It had been a few months since Jackie and I had started dating and I guess I was so enthralled with her that I never really considered how everybody else perceived us, particularly my brother.
I was certain we'd done a good job at keeping us a secret, but then Jeff was becoming suspicious, and I knew we couldn't keep it hidden for much longer.
Using our usual cover story of 'studying', Jackie was over at mine to hang out, though this time staying for dinner at my mum's insistence. Shauna was also over, since she was Jeff's girlfriend an' all, and it didn't make much of a difference since we were all friends, but then dinner actually happened and I felt stupid for thinking it would go smoothly.
"Y'know, I love how close of friends you and Y/N have become," my mum was saying to Jackie as she passed her the garlic bread. "Always inviting her over to yours."
"Just tutoring her for French class," Jackie answered smoothly. "Happy to do it."
"You're terrible at French," Shauna commented with furrowed brows, and Jackie almost faltered as she thought of a response.
"But better than I am," I filled in with an awkward laugh.
Jeff quirked a brow. "And your grade is improving with all this tutoring?"
I met his gaze, sensing his suspicion. "B average."
He hummed, glancing between Jackie and I curiously.
"You should invite Jackie here more," my mum said to me, thankfully interrupting whatever Jeff thought he was piecing together. "I don't want her family thinking we're not a good host." 
"Oh, they would never think that," Jackie replied with a laugh. "They love you."
My mum flashed her a grateful smile, eating out of the palm of her hand. I believed we'd gotten away with it, plus I now had more reason to invite her over. But when I looked back opposite me, I saw Jeff and Shauna studying the two of us curiously and I was never good under pressure. I focused on my dinner as my mum rambled on about something or the other, but the couple before me were watching me the whole evening.
Once the meal was over, Jeff went to drop Shauna home as I did the same with Jackie, though I was a little more distracted than she was.
"I love your mum, she's so cute," she was saying as I drove. "And you heard her, right? Gotta stop by more. Her words."
"Yeah, I think you're actually gonna have to start tutoring me French now," I realised.
She pulled a face. "What? Why? I suck at French."
I gave her a sideways glance. "Did you really not see Jeff and Shauna? They don't think we're studying, Jackie."
As if remembering, Jackie snorted. "Yeah, but who cares what they think? There's no proof otherwise."
I sighed. "I know, but I also know my brother. He's gonna be all over us. So, you're gonna have to start tutoring me French when you come over."
She chuckled quietly at this, unbothered. "Oui oui, Monsieur Y/N."
I tried not to laugh. "It's Madame. Monsieur is for guys."
Pursing her lips, she glanced at me. "Fuck."
I rolled my eyes playfully. "God, you're lucky I'm good at French."
Asking Jackie to actually tutor me for French class was easier said than done. Turned out she really did suck at French. I ended up teaching her more than she could teach me a lot of the times, and then there was the issue of how she kept getting distracted by random things because the last thing she wanted to do was homework.
The few times that Jeff 'accidentally' walked in my room, we were actually studying, which only reaffirmed my suspicion that he suspected something more between Jackie and I. After the first few weeks, he stopped checking on us, so I assumed he stopped caring. And I may or may not have let my guard down just a little...
"Okay, I just need to recite this to you," I told Jackie, sat cross legged on my bed, opposite her. "Follow along on the paper and tell me if I miss something."
She hummed, glancing at the paper before looking back to me. I could see she wasn't focused and gave her a knowing look.
"Please, Jackie, my test is next week."
She laughed. "Y/N, you know this paper front to back."
I didn't let up. "Jackie."
She sighed dramatically before straightening up and looking at the paper. "Okay. Go."
I nodded and cleared my throat, before reciting the paper in French. It was a speaking exam, and though I wasn't too worried, it didn't hurt to practice. Of course, as I was speaking, I realised Jackie was only looking at me, eyes on mine, and definitely not the paper in her hand.
"...Jackie!" I scolded her, making her blink. "How do you know I'm saying it right, huh? You're not even reading it!"
She bit her lip, trying not to laugh again, then tilted her head towards me. "I'm sorry. I can't help getting distracted. You're so hot when you're focused."
I sighed, though my cheeks were growing warm. "Jackie. Not the time."
"Well, if now's not the time...," she started teasingly, leaning forward on her hands so she was directly in front of my face. Her eyes flickered between mine flirtatiously as she continued, "Then when is?"
I tried to hold my ground, refusing to let her win just because she was stupidly cute and stupidly kissable right now.
"Y'know what I just realised?" she asked rhetorically, hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "Teasing you is pointless. One kiss and you're mine."
"Jackie–"
She silenced me by doing just that, pressing her strawberry-flavoured lips to mine, courtesy of her favourite lipgloss. Unfortunately she was right, and as soon as she kissed me, I melted under her touch, eyes fluttering close. Her hand rested on my neck as she tilted my head up, having the perfect gap to push her tongue into my mouth.
As we made out, studying long forgotten, my senses were overtaken by all things Jackie, so much that I didn't hear anybody come in my bedroom until said person cursed out loud.
Immediately pulling apart from Jackie, I looked to the door to see Jeff standing there with a shocked expression.
"I knew you weren't studying!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at us. Then it seemed to dawn on him what we were doing instead, and he glared at Jackie. "Seriously?!" With a lower voice, he whisper-shouted, "You're sucking face with my sister?!"
Embarassed, I scolded him. "Jeff!"
"In case you forgot, you cheated on me with my best friend," Jackie retorted, standing up to face him.
"So you make out with my sister?!" he repeated, hysterical.
Jackie scoffed. "You don't get to be mad right now! You literally–"
"That doesn't give you the right to–"
"–and you cheated on me for fucking months–"
"–my little sister isn't your–"
I sat there awkwardly as they bickered over the stupidest things, still flushed with embarrassment.
The sound of my mum calling all of our names, followed by the promise of lunch, silenced Jackie and Jeff long enough for me to stand up off the bed, subtly wiping Jackie's lipgloss from my mouth.
"This... this isn't over," Jeff said, looking between us, before storming out of my room and downstairs.
Jackie clenched her jaw before glancing at me, expression softening. "You okay?"
"Yeah... I think. You?"
She nodded. "Let's go eat."
The two of us trailed in after Jeff, taking a seat beside each other at the dining table where my parents were waiting already. Thankfully, Jackie was still her easygoing, talkative self and made conversation with my parents as we ate. Jeff and I were quiet, occasionally glancing at one another before looking the other way if we accidentally caught each other's gaze. I still couldn't believe he'd caught me making out with Jackie. This wasn't how I wanted to tell him about us.
"...Y/N, Jeff, you two are oddly quiet today," my dad noticed, making everyone look to us.
When Jeff didn't speak, I answered, "I'm just a little tired. Lots of studying."
Jeff choked on his water and I instantly regretted my choice of words. Jackie looked between us before changing the subject with my parents, saving the moment. Thankfully, they didn't try to talk to me again, and Jeff still didn't have much to say.
After a horribly awkward lunch, I left to drop Jackie off home, glad when we were finally away from Jeff's judgy eyes.
"So... you think he'll get over it?" Jackie asked me in the car.
"Probably," I answered. "Eventually."
She nodded slowly, glancing at my house as we drove away, before saying, "Sorry if it's awkward between you both now. It wasn't my intention."
I sighed, a small smile on my face when I glanced at her. "It's okay, Jackie, it's not your fault. Besides. You're kind of worth it, so."
"Oh, really?" she asked, quirking a brow playfully.
"Just a little," I played along, and she laughed.
"That's good to know, yeah," she said, before squeezing my knee gently.
I wanted to talk things through with Jeff as soon as possible, but when I returned home after dropping Jackie off, he was in his room and I figured it was best to give him some space. The next morning, he was already out the house when I went downstairs for breakfast, so my only hope was to find him at school.
I wasn't sure if he was actually annoyed at me or not, since he hadn't spoken to me since yesterday and I didn't really see him around much. I put it down to needing some space again, giving him the benefit of the doubt considering he saw his little sister and ex-girlfriend making out.
After school however, I was surprised to find him waiting for me by my car in the lot. He didn't look annoyed or upset, which was a good sign, but I was also planning to wait for Jackie just now, so I hoped this wouldn't go down badly.
"Hey, Jeff," I greeted as I approached him, a little confused.
"So, I've thought about it," he said instantly, hand clutching the strap of his backpack as he paced a little.
"Uh-huh..."
"I just needed to process it all," he continued, stopping his pacing but struggling to stand still.
"Right," I acknowledged, patiently waiting for him to finish.
"You don't need my permission, obviously," he disclaimed quickly, before saying, "but I'm okay with it. You and– you and Jackie."
I raised my eyebrows, surprised at his reaction, or at least witnessing it so soon.
"It was just strange," he admitted, finally relaxing once he'd gotten his words out. "My ex moving on with my sister."
I couldn't resist reminding him, "You literally moved on with her best friend."
He winced slightly, but nodded. "Right."
I chewed the inside of my cheek as we stood there, neither of us saying anything.
"Okay then...," I started, once I realised he was done. "So, we're cool?"
"We're cool," he agreed, before reluctantly asking, "Out of curiosity though... how long? Y'know, you and Jackie?"
"A month? Maybe a little longer?" I answered truthfully.
He nodded, letting that digest, then said, "You seem to get along well. I'm happy for you, Y/N."
I began to smile, despite his awkwardness. "We do."
He smiled too, albeit a little uncomfortably, and mine soon turned into one of amusement.
"Hey," Jackie finally arrived, looking between Jeff and I, though unsure how to react as she was as surprised as I was upon seeing him.
"He's okay with it," I told her, making her eyes widen slightly, taken aback.
"Oh."
"I'm happy for you both," Jeff added, nodding at Jackie.
She recovered from her temporary stupor quite quickly and began to flash Jeff a mildly condescending smile. "Well, that's very mature of you, Jeff. Thanks."
He seemed a little embarrassed, but nodded before glancing at me. "Catch you later, Y/N."
"See you later," I confirmed, watching as he left us to it.
Only when he was out of hearing distance did I look back to Jackie, who was stifling her urge to laugh.
"I guess that's that then," she said what we were both thinking.
"It is," I confirmed with a hidden smile.
Her green-golden eyes met mine with a hint of mischief. "That means there's no need to hide this anymore, right?"
Realising she was right, I nodded. "Guess not."
A grin appeared on her lips, but before I could question it, she yanked me forward by my jacket, pressing her lips to mine in a brief yet passionate kiss that had me floating and forgetting what my name was.
She flashed me another smile before getting into the car, and I was left speechless, before a grin appeared on my own lips. No more hiding anymore.
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cosmichearter · 1 year
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I imagine him as kind of like the devil on her shoulder
[Image ID: Michael, a white man with very long blonde hair, looks over the shoulder of Lydia Halligan, a brown woman with red hair and blonde tips. She says “Maybe I should sleep,” and Michael replies “haha nooo girl you don’t need that I have fractals for you.” Lydia is writing while holding a coffee cup. Lydia is wearing a white button-up shirt with a green sweater vest. Michael is wearing a brown coat over a black waistcoat over a tie-dyed sweater and black pants. Some yellow spirals dance around Michael. /. End ID]
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13uswntimagines · 10 months
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Promises We Make (Lindsey Horan x Soulmate!R)
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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
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thirstydiglett · 2 months
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@pinkished ITS HERE
Love is Poisonous
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Summary: Zoro has been in love with Sanji for a long time. When Sanji is poisoned in a fight and truly needs him, will it be enough for their love to come to fruition?
Pacing: After Water 7, before Thriller Bark
Pairings: Zosan!
Warnings: Near death of a major character, seizures, vomiting, other symptoms of poisoning, kissing
Word count: 3k (I am incapable of short stories lol)
Author’s Note: First time writing Zosan and I’m so fucking excited!! These two are just so perfect together. A small disclaimer: in the story Sanji is poisoned by death-stalker scorpion venom. I have taken extreme liberties with the symptoms. If you get stung by a death-stalker scorpion and you use this fic instead of going to a hospital you will probably die. So don’t do that. Thanks to pinkished for requesting, this was so much fun to write. Anyway, onto the story!!
“Luffy, you idiot! Be more careful!”
Zoro watched as his captain was knocked back, the blow he’d sustained catapulting him high into a nearby tree. But with a glance upward, Zoro caught the dark-haired man’s signature smile. Luffy was going to be fine.
“Sorry Zoro! Let me just get myself down from here…”
Zoro was not normally the type to worry when it came to battles with rival crews. But this group was tough. Tougher than Lucci and CP-0, even.
The Death-stalker Pirates. The captain had eaten the Death-stalker Scorpion Model Zoan Fruit, giving him the lower body and sharp pincers of a massive yellow scorpion. And his crew was as tough as he was.
A burly bearded man was taking on Franky and Robin in hand to hand (to hand to hand to hand) combat. A pair of twins with perfect balance was expertly dodging Usopp’s stars. Chopper had had to transform into his Monster Point form and was indiscriminately kicking the shit out of the lesser crew members. Over his shoulder Zoro caught a young woman with bright blonde hair and long, sharp nails challenging Nami. Sanji, of course, was simping over her in between fending off blows from the captain—
Oh shit. The captain.
Zoro never should have let his guard down. The captain’s long scorpion tail wrenched Zoro’s swords from his grasp before he even realized he was behind him, bending the steel as if it was foil.
“Shit! My swords!”
He turned for a split second to watch as his precious damaged swords were tossed far out of reach. But a split second was all it took. In a heartbeat, the scorpion captain’s tail was plunging through the air, drops of some sort of venom oozing from the tip.
There was no time to dodge.
“Marimo!” A sudden flash of black suit and golden hair, and Sanji was in front of him, shoving him out of the way. Zoro could only watch, as if in slow motion, as the venomous tail stabbed deeply into the cook’s leg.
Zoro tried to shout, but no words came out. He stood motionless, his heart racing, his stomach turning.
Please, no… Anyone but the cook.
He’d kept his feelings about the young man silent for a long time—since the East Blue, really. Talented, smart, loyal. Handsome. God, so handsome…
How the fuck do you tell someone you’re in love with him when he’s clearly straight, when he annoys the shit out of you just for fun, when you fight every other day? When you know your feelings won’t be returned?
You do it with your actions, Zoro had always supposed. So he defended the cook when the cook needed defending (not often), he ate every bite of every dish the man made, and on the best days he would simply stand in silence next to him, listening to the waves hit the ship and gazing out at the moon.
Would he ever be able to do that again?
In a flash, he was moving, wrenching the scorpion tail out of Sanji’s leg. Holding tight, he mustered every inch of his strength and flung the man hard into the trunk of a nearby tree. A sickening crrrack reverberated through the area as the captain’s back bent unnaturally. Hopefully that would keep him down for a while.
“You idiot cook! Why the fuck did you do that?” He shouted, putting Sanji’s arm around his shoulders to help him up even as he did so.
“Dunno…” Sanji managed. Already his speech was beginning to slur.
“Sanji!” Luffy had made it down from the tree. “What happened?”
Robin, leaving Franky to take over their fight, came running over. “This doesn’t look good. That’s some of the most poisonous venom in the world.”
Luffy swallowed, for once seeming uncertain. “So what do we do?”
“I think Chopper has some antivenom in the sick bay. But he can’t administer it like that…” she gestured to Chopper, who was 30 feet tall and in the process of stomping all over a couple of lackeys. “Someone else would have to do it.”
“I’ll do it,” Zoro grumbled, trying to sound annoyed instead of terrified. “The motherfucker bent my swords, I’m useless out here anyway.”
Luffy nodded, his mind made up. “Zoro… don’t let Sanji die, ok?”
Zoro smirked a bit despite himself. “I couldn’t if I tried. Someone has to keep this idiot alive.”
“YOU’RE A IDIOT, MARIO!” Sanji grunted.
“You mean Marimo?”
“Heh. You admitted you’re a marimo.”
Robin turned to Zoro, her expression serious. “You don’t have long. First, the neurotoxins will start affecting his thinking—he’s going to act like he’s drunk. In fact, he most likely won’t have any memory of anything after getting poisoned. Then he’ll start seizing, vomiting and coughing up blood. If he experiences paralysis in his feet, you’ll know you’ve got only minutes left before it kills him. Find the antivenom and use it fast.”
Zoro nodded. “Come on, love-cook. Let’s go save your stupid life.”
“YOUR life is stupid!”
*****
The pair hurried through the woods. Thankfully Sanji was still coherent enough to give directions back to the ship, because Zoro would have been totally lost otherwise.
“Turn lef’ at that boulder..” the cook, now on Zoro’s back, commanded. “This’s fun… ridin’ you like a horse…”
Zoro flushed at the sudden thought of Sanji atop him, riding him in a very different manner. “Shut up! Fucking dumbass… getting yourself poisoned…”
A moment of silence passed.
“Why’d you… why’d you do that anyway?” Zoro continued. “I could’ve handled it as well as you can.”
Sanji didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he spoke.
“‘Cuz we need you.”
Zoro’s cheeks reddened, and it took everything in his power not to look back at the man on his back.
“Yeah, well—we need you too.”
“Awwwwww!!! Little baby mosshead needs me!” Sanji teased. And with that, he promptly vomited the entire contents of his lunch onto Zoro’s shoulder.
“Fucking disgusting, dude! What’s wrong with you?” Zoro nearly dropped Sanji in his attempt to take off his shirt, forcing the blond to lean against a tree for a moment as Zoro threw the shirt to the ground and revealed his muscular brown physique.
“‘M poisoned, remember?” slurred Sanji. “Think we go left here…”
“You are going to owe me so hard when you’re better,” Zoro growled, picking Sanji back up and taking the turn.
“Damn, your skin is so warm. I’m really cold allasudden so that’s nice…” Sanji continued to ramble. Glancing down at Sanji’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, Zoro felt his stomach turn. The chef was slowly turning blue.
“Jesus Christ, Curly, we gotta get you back. Are we close to the ship?”
“Almost there. Jus’ past the tree line up here,” Sanji murmured, but his voice was softer now, and his grip weaker.
“Just hold on, ok? You’re gonna be ok.” As the words escaped Zoro’s mouth, a spasm wracked Sanji’s body, causing the man to cry out in pain. Zoro held him tighter against his back, willing himself to move faster. Please, please, please…
And then, like an answer from God, they broke through the tree line to reveal the rocky coast and the Sunny moored only about 100 yards away.
With a burst of strength, Zoro sprinted for the ship, holding onto Sanji for dear life. They cleared the gangway in record time and made it to the sick bay, Zoro dropping Sanji on the bed to rummage frantically through Chopper’s cupboards.
“Hey, be gentle, dumbass!” Sanji said weakly, unable to put any real force behind the insult.
“You can argue with me when you’re better, how does that sound?” Zoro said distractedly, reading the names on the vials and jars. Lyfitol, Wormwood, Queensblood… nothing even resembling an antivenom so far.
Sanji seized again on the bed, coughing hard. “Marimo…”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Zoro paused, his heart pounding in his ears. “What do you mean you’re sorry?”
“‘M sorry you hafta go to all this trouble cuz I did something stupid. I’m not worth it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You could find a way better chef than me if you knew where to look. And a better fighter. Looks like you’re gonna get that chance…”
“Sanji!”
Zoro turned to the bed and grabbed Sanji’s shoulders, leaning over him to look him directly in the eyes.
“We don’t want anyone else. We want you. Just…stay alive for me, ok? Even if you don’t think you’re worth it. I do, you fucking idiot. I need you to stay alive, cook. Even if you annoy the shit out of me sometimes.”
Sanji was silent, his unfocused eyes attempting to take Zoro in. Finally, he managed to whisper. “Heh. You like me.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Zoro returned to the cupboards. After another silent moment of rummaging, his hand brushed a vial containing a silvery liquid. Turning it to reveal the label, Zoro’s heart leaped. The print was clear as day.
All-purpose antivenom. To be injected diluted with water at a 2:1 ratio.
Fuck, more to do. He grabbed a needle quickly and ran to the sink, getting some fresh water. His hands shook as he measured the correct amounts in the first small container he could find. Fuck, too much water. Better try agai—
“Zoro.”
He turned his head, annoyed at the distraction. “What?”
“I can’t move my feet.”
Zoro’s blood ran cold. Robin’s words echoed in his head. If he experiences paralysis in his feet, you’ll know you’ve got only minutes left before it kills him.
“I’m gonna save you, Curly, ok? You’re gonna be fine.” His voice broke even as he tried to comfort his friend, and he could feel tears streaming down his cheeks. God, he couldn’t lose Sanji. Anyone but Sanji.
Finally, blessedly, he managed to figure out the ratio. Drawing it into the needle, he ran to Sanji’s side, grabbed his arm. Finding a vein was easy—they were bulging all over Sanji’s body as the venom pulsed through him.
Taking a deep breath, Zoro leaned down, brushed his hand against the cook’s paling face, squeezed his arm
And
Injected.
*****
After Sanji’s color had evened out and the seizing had stopped, Zoro found himself sitting on the bed. He was somehow unable to take his eyes off the man. Near death’s door less than ten minutes ago, now as rosy-cheeked and handsome as he ever was.
Sanji’s eyes were closed, his sweaty hair swept back from his face, but he was breathing steadily. Zoro wasn’t sure he was even conscious until the blond suddenly spoke.
“I embarrassed m’self in front of Nami-swan and Robin-chan, actin’ all stupid like this, didn’t I?”
Zoro snorted despite himself. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”
“ ‘fcourse. My beautiful ladies needa see me as a proteccor. Not some kinda loser that gets poisoned an’ acts like a drunk moron.”
Zoro couldn’t help himself. Their usual casual animosity had boiled down into something entirely different in the last hour, and maybe…
He touched Sanji’s leg.
“You’re not a moron, curly. No one on the crew thinks you’re a moron.”
“‘Cept you.”
Zoro swallowed. “Nah. I’m no exception.”
Sanji opened one eye, appraising the situation. “What the hell do you think of me then?”
Zoro looked away, removing his hand. Why was it suddenly so hard to speak? “I told you, cook. We need you.”
A long silence floated pregnant in the air.
Finally, Sanji was the one to break it. “If I get married ta Nami I think it’ll be unner those tangerine trees on ‘er home island.” The chef smiled at the thought, closing his eyes. “Errything’ll be so expensive, bes’ of the best, jus’ how Nami-swan likes it…”
Zoro had no response. Sanji’s intellect was obviously still dulled from the poison, but why the fuck had he suddenly started talking about weddings?
“An’ if I get married ta Robin-chan, we’ll hold tha reception inna library, an’ all the guests’ll get books as wedding favors, an’ I’ll serve a hunned million types of sandwiches cuz that’s ‘er favorite…”
“Yeah, dream on,” Zoro managed, attempting to sound aloof, like he wasn’t bothered by the thought of the man he loved at the altar with someone else.
“But that’s never gonna happen.” Sanji suddenly propped himself up to look Zoro dead in the eyes. Zoro had the distinct impression of having been dipped in something very warm, feeling it drip over his body and seep into his bones.
“I’m gonna marry you.”
The earth stopped turning.
Zoro looked away to hide his reddening face, but he was aware of the chef’s serene smile boring into his being.
“Gods, cook, that poison did a fuckin’ number on you.”
“No.” So confident, so sure of himself. “Gonna kill ten different sea kings for a buffet jus’ cuz you like it. You wear a black tux, I’ll wear a white one. An’ we’ll exchange rings on the tip of your sword.”
Zoro turned back to meet Sanji’s gaze. “You’ve really thought about this?”
“ ‘f course. Isn’t that what you do when yer in love with someone?”
Zoro’s heart was pounding mercilessly in his ears again, his skin was flushing, his stomach flipping like an acrobat. And the chef was leaning closer, and Zoro should have stopped him but he wasn’t, and their gazes met like fire and water.
“You’re… you’re really in love with me?” Zoro breathed.
A small smile, and Sanji closed the distance between them.
The kiss was soft, gentle, but as unyielding as Sanji ever was. He brought his hand to Zoro’s cheek as their lips touched, the other snaking around to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. Zoro was amazed by the sheer confidence in it, as if Sanji had been waiting an awfully long time to do this, as if every fight between them was just an overture to this moment.
And he knew it was wrong. He knew Sanji wasn’t in his right mind, knew the effects of the poison were far from wearing off. Knew he should pull away.
He couldn’t.
Finally, Sanji broke the kiss, his grey-blue eyes piercing into Zoro’s as he pulled away. “I gotta sleep.”
“….You just kissed me and that’s what you have to say?”
“Sleep with me, marimo.” That confidence again, that soft smile.
“Look, love-cook, that was…nice (amazing incredible otherworldly heavenly perfect), but you’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow. I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re like this.”
“Then just cuddle with me?”
Zoro should have said no.
But he always did make one hell of a big spoon.
*****
The morning sunlight, fresh and crisp, shone in Zoro’s eyes. He blinked for a moment, deliciously warm and comfortable, before he noticed it. The smell of good tobacco. The warmth of another body pressed close to his own. The blond hair tickling his face.
The events from the previous night came flooding back into his mind all at once. The poison, the antivenom, the talk about marriage, the…
The kiss.
“Mmm… Nami-swan, you’re so big and strong…” The cook, still snuggled closely into Zoro’s arms, was murmuring. Then he turned his head to look back.
“MARIMO!”
Zoro was shoved unceremoniously out of bed and hit the floor with a thud. Above him, Sanji had sat up and was regarding him with a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“What kind of freak are you, sleeping in my bed with me? Who—wait, why are we in the sick bay?”
“Christ dude, don’t be such an asshole! I saved your life yesterday, after all!”
“What the hell are you talking about?!” There was no spark of recognition in Sanji’s eyes, and Zoro could feel the disappointment washing over him. He really didn’t remember…
“SANJIIIIII!”
A voice from outside the door, and suddenly Luffy burst in, all but throwing himself onto the bed beside Sanji and flinging his arms around him.
“Sanji, we thought you were gonna die!”
“Ok, seriously. What the fuck is everyone talking about.” Sanji’s voice was serious but still confused.
“You really don’t remember anything, do you, cook?” Zoro asked, still rubbing his shoulder from where he’d hit the floor.
The rest of the Straw Hats poured into the room, each of them eager to tell Sanji about the battle, the venom, the way Zoro had saved his life. Sanji sat in silence and listened to everyone in turn, amazed that such a significant event had occurred. One that he had no memory of whatsoever.
Finally, he climbed out of bed. “Let me make you all breakfast then, as thanks for keeping me alive. I’ll meet you all in the kitchen in five minutes. How do omelets sound?”
“Yahoooooo!” Luffy cheered, leading the crew out of the sick bay and leaving Sanji and Zoro alone together again.
Sanji turned to face him, and Zoro prepared for a fight. After all, they’d woken up in a bed together—Sanji was doubtless going to be furious now that he was sober.
But instead, the man did something that took Zoro by surprise. Closing the distance between them, Sanji suddenly pulled him into a brief but heartfelt embrace.
When he pulled away, both of their faces were red.
“Thanks, Zoro. For saving my life.”
Zoro opened his mouth, but no words came out.
As the chef turned away and headed to the kitchen, Zoro stared after him. Maybe, after all this time, maybe there was a chance.
He moved to follow his nakama, and as he did so his foot brushed something on the floor. The vial of antivenom, empty and discarded. Not knowing exactly why, Zoro picked it up. On the back of the peeling-off label, the side effects were listed. One sentence in particular caught his eye.
Patients will lose their memory of the events that happened after their poisoning, but may recall them weeks or months after the event.
Please, Zoro thought as he left the sick bay, headed for the best omelets on the Grand Line.
Please.
__________________________________________
If you’d like, I can tag you the next time I write a story! Just send me a message!
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cardibgans · 1 year
Text
SMILES AND LOOKS | eddie roundtree
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. ˖࣪ ⚝ cute (none warning)
. ˖࣪ ⚝ eddie roundtree x fem!oc
. ˖࣪ ⚝ 965 words . .
Y/N: Well, how I met Eddie... It's kind of funny.
EDDIE: She was still working as a waitress in a restaurant that we all went to frequently.
Y/N: And he never looked away from me, sometimes it was a little weird, because he never took any action. Until I started talking to him and found out that he had just moved to LA and was in a band.
EDDIE: Who can blame me? Have you guys looked at Y/N?
Y/N: That was right before I was working as a songwriter for the new band Teddy was creating.
EDDIE: But one day I decided to try my luck.
It was the hottest day Los Angeles had seen in years. And as it turned out, all the Californians were on the beaches to cool off. On the other hand, the Six were in the coffee shop next to the record label where they were supposed to be writing songs at that very moment, but it was too hot to think about anything.
── Here are the lemonades. ── The waitress in the vibrant blue and yellow apron took the glasses off the tray and left them on the table in front of her for all six friends.
── Thank you, Y/N. ── Eddie smiled. Of course they had talked several times, but that doesn't take away from the fact that it was funny when Y/N catches him looking at her.
── What are you guys doing today? ── S/N asked as he was tucking the huge metal tray under his arm.
── We don't know yet. ── Camila replied, shaking the straw in her glass.
── We should be working on a song, but in this heat it's almost impossible. ── Graham said.
── I'm going to have to agree. ── She gave a low laugh. ── Don't worry, folks. Soon a melody and some cool lyrics will appear for you.
── Hey. Don't you want to go to the beach with us after your shift? ── Eddie asked.
── Sure! That would be great. ── The blonde gave a big smile.
── Right!
EDDIE: It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn't a real date, but it was a good start, right?
Y/N: What he didn't know was that I had a little crush on him at that time.
EDDIE: Wait, she said that?
After the end of his workday, which on weekends was shortened to after noon, Y/N was already heading down to the beach. His house was not that far from there, so it was easy to leave to change and not take so long to do so.
Karen was the first to see Y/N, he waved for her to see them and she returned the greeting. Camila pulled Eddie close to her and before the woman could reach her, she managed to whisper in his ear.
── You better act today.
EDDIE: It sounded like a threat to me... But what matters is that in the end I got the girl. Thanks, Camila, for the little push.
Y/N: Cam has always been there to take care of everyone.
After a few beers and cigarettes, Eddie and Y/N were left alone by their Roundtree band mates. Just the two of them enjoying the beach breeze hitting their faces and hair.
── And that's how he ended up with the hotel bathroom. ── Y/N gave a loud laugh. Eddie should be telling about their idiocy on The Dunne Brothers tour. ── It was good while it lasted.
── I'm sorry about that, Ed. ──── He shook his head and took the last sip of his beer.
── On the bright side, I never would have met him if the band had worked out. ── The level of alcohol in Eddie's veins was having an effect on his behavior and his attitude.
Y/N smiled watching Eddie gazing at the sunset. She gave him a slight nudge with her arm. Roundtree looked at her with a smile on his face.
── What? ── He asked, confused. Now she was looking at him in that strange way.
EDDIE: I could only think of one thing.... "Who's looking in a strange way now?"
INTERVIEWER: Is that where you knew you loved him?
Y/N: I knew the first time I saw him… Despite the strange looks we were giving each other.
EDDIE: That is still the case today, as incredible as it seems.
── Nothing. Just let it go. ── Y/N turned her gaze to the sea. But Eddie asked with his eyes that she say something. ── Thank you for inviting me, Eddie. I really needed that. ── She smiles again, looking at his face.
── God, stop doing that. ── Eddie brushes his hair back, receiving a confused look from the woman beside him. ── Every time you smile at me like that, my mind locks up and I don't know what to say. ── Y/N felt her heart racing so fast she couldn't hear anything but him. She let out a low laugh and moved closer to him.
── So you don't want me to smile closer to you? ── She whispered, looking into Eddie's eyes and then into his mouth.
── Please don't. ── He answered in a whisper, before he glued his lips to hers.
EDDIE: I kissed her. And if it were only up to me, we'd be married the next day.
Y/N: Eddie is exaggerating. He still took a long time to propose and even longer to get engaged.
EDDIE: What can I do? I wanted to keep her with me as long as possible. And it worked.
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miyaur · 7 months
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mmmm i can only think of hsr men dancing with me in masquerade ball a.u
twirling and dancing about and then w take a break and sip some wine ARGHH
╭╯ ❝ 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞? ❞ ✦
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┊𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱﹕ an anonymous man asks you for your hand at a masquerade ball that your friend hosted. originally you never liked going to parties, hell why even attend a ball when you can take a rest at home?! but, you know, 1 ball isn't that bad.
╰ ꒱﹒ 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞﹕ no warnings, just masquerade ball shenanigans :3
一 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬﹕ i've been pondering, and pondering, and pondering when to write on this account istg.. anyways im back and school was great?!?! also YES NEW LAYOUT WOOO
一 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧﹕ luocha, welt, blade x gn!reader (seperate)
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luocha 一
he really knows his way around the dance floor, whether or not it's his first time, in his free time definitely learned how to dance! so graceful with it too. amazing hand placement 100%
he knows very well on where to step, on where to place his hands on you, makes sure you're comfortable with what he's doing as well!
genuinely loves to twirl you around when you dance with him, like he finds it so amazingly satisfying for some reason, so expect quite the smug smile whenever he does twirl you
as for his outfit, the classic all white suit decorated with gold on his jacket and tie. and doesn't wanna be so anonymous, but probably lets his hair in a low ponytail and a mask that only covers his green eyes. the mask is white and like gold on the very edge of the mask, ykwim?? like the brims of the mask are with yellow, gold, all that good stuff
will make sure you both have very often breaks, he knows how tiring dancing can get, whether your forehead is covered with your mask or not, by the end of the night, it'll be kissed <3
and for the matter that you both stop for wine, he controls his alcohol very well! considering he is a doctor, he knows the amount he can handle.
probably the type of guy to hug you from behind every chance he gets.
originally tells you, you should go with your friend who got an invite that mentions they could bring a plus one, just for him to end up going and steal you away to show everyone what a true star you are, and how bright you can really be.
a blonde-haired man, his hair was in a low ponytail, walked up to you. disguised with a beautiful mask, approaches you from behind, and whispers into your ear, "may i have this dance?"
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welt 一
same as luocha, he knows how to dance, and to add onto that, he dances very well. probably the one who invited you to the ball with him, helped you decide on what you'd wear since he wanted, or atleast hinted he wanted to match with you
matching masks as well>>> it's a need to him!!
literal blushing mess as soon as he sees you wear what he suggested for you to wear to the ball, he's genuinely a blushing mess, like his legs lowkey tremble
i like to hc that he writes a ton too
so like he'd write about the moment you stepped out of your room
he's giddy about the idea
literally in love with you all over again
would definitely have you in his arms, as in his arms around your waist, his head on your shoulder hugging you from behind, while it's just the two of you out in the balcony of the place where the ball was held ahh <3
literally just wants to show you off to everyone.. nicely. like he'll sway you all around the dance floor and everyone else attending the ball is watching how graceful you both are, and he's just smirking, all smug n shit behind his mask.
easily calms himself down, and knows the way to truly embrace you and your beauty as you glide on the dance floor, would probably carry you by the end of the dance, and kiss you on the nose, and lastly hug you close.
himeko took pictures of that exact moment, nonstop teasing from her as well.
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blade 一
lowkey shy, but confident at the same time, acts like he doesn't know who you are, but at the same time, he knows what colors fit you, and colors you prefer on your clothing
if you took his suggestion on what to where to the ball when you asked him, will lowkey blush too一 really subtle, but since his mask would only cover his eyes, you could see a subtle blush on his face. you might not see it, but its there.
of course, kafka probably helped hum pick stuff out for his outfit, even though he knows what he clearly would like on his suit. probably waa flashier than expected because kafka is so cool
recognizes you instantly, but like i said, he'll act like he doesn't know, just asking a random person onto the dance floor, very well aware that he's dancing with you.
so i headcannon him to be a man with spectacular taste in fashion, knows exactly what fits a person, probably only the closest of his friends or loved ones knows this.
fast forward to the next day; you are talking to your close friend, blade, about going to a ginarmous masquerade ball last night, he'd just nod and be an active listener to your story, amazing listener to all your stories actually.
while you ramble about the man you danced with at the ball, saying how well he swayed along the smooth, and shiny tiles of the ground, and probably was the best dancer in the room. to your shock, he mentions he attended the ball as well as his business genius friend; Kafka's assistant, to follow along with her.
kind of just is flushed while you find out he was the one you danced with. will slightly hesitate if you ask him to teach you to dance like him, but will dance with you either way.
10/10, would dance with again fr
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一 took me 1 month to write again, lmao
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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months
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Related to my prev post:
I don't give two shits if Bruce is written like a bad dad if it means we get good writing for everybody else since i think minorities are more important than a white cishet male nepotism baby unlike his butch lesbian counterpart who's judaism is an actual fundamental part of her character and since he's been written as abusive so consistently over the years it's in-character anyway
Dick can be both bi/pan and demisexual and there's more evidence for the latter than the former so making him be sexually loose is aspec erasure and mspec stereotyping and he dosen't have a thing for redheads,he has a thing for black women and to me the only guy he seems to like romantically is Roy and that adds on to his demisexuality since they're childhood best friends
'Catholic guilt Jason' is a shit headcanon that misses the major and critical part of him being Red Hood that he didn't feel the slightest bit bad about killing people and the point of his redemption was learning remorse,afrolatino Jason isn't based on stereotyping but him filling out so many black and latino cultural aspects and if any hcs for him are stereotyping it's the one that he's a slut because he's a very handsome and hot and cute goth punk man
Tim is perfect the way he is and dosen't need power ups or to get 'punished' for the oh so horrible crime of being a realistic teenage boy,he's not JUST huge a loser or a super cool dude but both at once and it's bad writing and fetishistic to ignore his wide range of relathionships that consists of mostly of women to make him a 'guys guy'
Stephanie is heavily autistic and bpd-coded so she's far from a 'normie',much less an 'it girl' but people see blonde hair and blue eyes and throw away everything else about her because that's all she's worth to them or call her an abuser and a pick me just like they do irl bpdtistic women and she's also canonically pastel/indie punk and a Team Mom but gets her presentation switched to basic and made out to be a womanchild instead
Cass had a million times more moral conflict than Jason ever did,would never in her LIFE wanna be feminine even in the chinese way and would be butch in it instead,turning her scattered speech into sign language is ableist not unlike(but not on the same level as)changing Babs' type of wheelchair disability and she'd be a better Batman than any male character in existense
Duke is only a golden child in the sense he has a yellow motif and is as disruptive and authentically quirky as his siblings,We Are Robin is a better team than the canon Outlaws,his powers are cooler than any Al-Ghul ones you could come up with,he has more femme energy than Tim does and Carrie Kelley ain't shit and only gets brought back to replace him because DC is antiblack
Damian's introduction mentality was a result of not only child abuse but also psychological grooming to get him to dehumanize himself and all his bigoted comments are explained either by him being like 12 or his writers trying to demonize brown people and anybody who thinks he's a bad person is a super-sized pissbaby with no sympathy for kids of color,shipping him with Jon is making a bisexual man into a ped0phile and Jay is good even if aging Jon up wasn't and he should be friends with Maya,Suren,Nell,Colin,Kathy,Maps,Tai and Miles,Gwen,Peni,Pavitr,Hobie and Margo from Atsv and Nico and Hazel from Pjo instead of Billy Batson or Danny Fenton or ANY Mcu characters
Talia is super hot but should be drawn in accurate arab clothes instead 'sexy assasian gear'(not that these two can't co-exist but you get what i mean),her personality is extremely rich and her stories are mega interesting,she's a good mom to Damian and literally never 'took advantage of Jason' seeing as That Scene In Lost Days was decanonized by it's writer who said it was ooc for her on his part,she should've been a mom figure to Stephanie in her Robin Days too since they would get along and she deserved her own run where she takes over Lexcorp to transform it into a force for good and become Superfam-adjacent to free herself from having only male connections
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ruh--roh-raggy · 4 months
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Heart of Wires (Sundrop/Moondrop x DCA!OC Piper)
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Hello hello! Welcome to something new and different from me!!! This is my first time writing Sundrop, this is also my first time making an OC! It is with my greatest pleasure that I introduce you to Piper Belle Healy! This whole fic is going to be slow burn, super tooth rottingly sweet fluff. I'm just enamored by these big Bois, I wanna hold their hands and kiss them on the cheek. SO THATS WHAT IM GUNNA DO!! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!
WARNINGS: None
You can find my Masterlist here!
Word Count: 3,985
Part 2
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“Good morning!” The chipper blond welcomed her with a gapped tooth smile as she sang her greeting. “Piper, right?” The red head nodded in confirmation. “Perfect. I'm Meredith, everyone calls me Merry, I'm gonna be the one showing you around the Pizzaplex!” She motions for Piper to follow her, pushing through the turnstiles with ease before walking into the main lobby. “I’ll give you a more thorough run down after your shift, they never listen when I tell them to have you come tour the place beforehand.” She sighs, stepping onto an escalator and casually leaning up against the railing. “You’re going to be in the daycare, so you’ll be working with Sundrop. It should be pretty easy; arts and crafts, making sure the kids don't hurt themselves, nap time, nothing too crazy. Sun can walk you through it, anything you need, just ask him.”
“Some interesting nicknames around here.” She remarks with a lopsided smile. “Merry and Sun.”
“Oh, Sundrop is his real name!” She responds with a laugh. “I take it you haven't gotten to meet any of the animatronics yet?” Merry gives her an excited glance.
“No, I've seen the posters and stuff, pictures of them in the office when I went in for my interview, things like that, but I haven't, uh, met them?” She says giving the taller blond a look of confusion. ‘Why would I have to introduce myself to a robot?’ She thinks, quickly shaking the thought as she rushes to keep up. She approached a set of large, wooden double doors, the gold handles glistening in the low lighting. She holds the door open for her with a smile, motioning for Piper to walk in ahead of her. Piper fidgets with the sleeves of her sweater, looking around the room to see shoe cubbies and hangers for coats and bags about halfway up the wall. The faded paint was covered in drawings of kids standing next to who you were assuming to be the daycare animatronics. Both of them are tall and slender, one with a sun shaped head, the other a moon. The sun wore yellow and red striped pants that billowed loosely down his legs, you noticed most of the kids had drawn what must have been bells on his wrists and ankles. The moon was dressed similarly, only his pants had white stars against a dark blue background, a matching sleep cap sitting atop his head. She smiled, breathing out a soft laugh as she ran her finger over the waxy artwork.
“We could take the stairs, but the slide’s faster.” Piper jumps as Merry suddenly starts talking. She chuckles seeing the shorter woman’s expression, pointing to a tube that must have led down to the daycare.
“Slide it is.” Piper giggles in response. Merry grabs onto the railing above the slide, jumping slightly before flinging herself down the plastic tunnel. Piper hears the clatter of plastic below before Merry calls for her to come down. She excitedly hops into the slide, unable to stop herself from smiling as she rushes downwards. She yelps slightly as the slide abruptly ends and she’s flung into the waiting ball pit below.
“Sunny! I’ve got a new friend for you to meet!” Merry cups her hands around her mouth as she calls out in the massive playroom.
“A new friend? Oh, how exciting!” Piper hears a voice call from above. Her eyes widen as she sees a large clown with a sun shaped head spin out onto a platform overlooking the daycare. In one swift motion he dove from the platform and into the ballpit, mere feet in front of her. Piper scrambled to find solid ground, hoisting herself up onto the rubber mat covered floor, her foot slipping on one of the yellow pool noodle covered edges. Two sets of articulate robotic fingers wrap around the foam in front of her before the robot hoists himself up to his full height, she scrambles backwards, screaming as she bumps into Merry.
“It’s alright! Piper, this is who you’re working with!” She drops down to her side, shaking her slightly in an attempt to break her out of her panic. She froze, her chest heaving as she watched the golden points whirl around his face.
“You said he was an animatronic!” She exclaims, motioning rapidly to the human-esque figure in front of her.
“He is!” She exclaims. “The technology for him is very advanced, it’s something the owners have been perfecting their entire lives.” She explains with a smile. She looks between the animatronic and the nearly shaking girl in front of her. “Sundrop, this is Piper, she’s the new daycare attendant.” He stands there for a moment. His unreadable expression makes her heart race.
“New daycare attendant, hm?” He suddenly speaks, his voice was so expressive, if she wasn't so terrified of his monstrously tall stature Piper would've been amazed. He slinks closer to her, kneeling down to bring his face directly in front of hers. “I’ll warn you now, the daycare isn’t a place for amateurs.” She furrowed her brows at him.
“I’ll have you know I’m wonderful with children.” She sits up, he jolts back as she suddenly gets close to him. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t make assumptions about me considering you just met me a few seconds ago.” He seemed a bit taken aback at her sudden change in demeanor. Just a moment ago she looked so timid and scared, but now she looked like she was ready to bite his head off.
“I’ll let your work speak for you then.” He stands, grabbing her gently by the wrist and hoisting her up with him.
“Sun, play nice, she’s the best resume that’s applied for the daycare in a long time. Who knows, maybe you might even like her.” She smiles and winks at him. She turns to Piper, “I’ll swing back by here at lunchtime, I’ll help you find your way to the cafeteria.” She offers happily. “And don’t let him make you nervous, he’s a drama queen anyways.” She teases, making Piper giggle.
“I wonder why? It’s not like my programming was originally meant for the theater or anything.” He responds sarcastically.
“Show her around the daycare, give her a run down of the schedule, don’t kill each other.” She counts out the tasks on her fingers. “Think both of you can handle that?” They both nod. She gives both of them a wave over her shoulder as she heads off to get ready for her shift.
“So, we start off with free play.” He motions for her to follow him as he prattles on about the schedule for the day. He shows her where all the craft supplies are, where to find the adult-only tools like sharp scissors and permanent markers. He explained that during naptime is when she would meet Moondrop, “let him handle putting the kids down, he doesn’t like it when someone interrupts his system.” He explains. “Other than that, if you’ve worked with kids before, you should know what you’re doing already.” He sighs, obviously expecting her to fail from the start.
“I think I can handle it, don’t worry.” She squeaks with mock confidence, trying to find some way to change the animatronics tune towards her. “Sundrop?” He turns to her. “I’m really looking forward to working with you, I’m sure I can learn a lot.” She noticed how the whirrs and pings of his internal mechanisms grew slightly louder at her compliment. His eyes flicker over her face for a moment.
“Thank you, Piper.”
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Piper watches as child after child comes down the slide into the Superstar Daycare. “Friends, if I could interrupt your playtime for just one moment, I have an important announcement to make!” She was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the screams and laughter of the children died down, Sun easily able to catch their attention. “Some of you might have noticed there's a new face around the Daycare today. I would like to introduce all of you to Miss Piper.” There was a chorus of small hello's and hi’s from the group. She jump as Sun suddenly claps his hands together, telling them all they could go back to playing. He strides up to her, her eyes trailing up his long thin frame as he stretches farther above her than anyone she had ever met. She guessed that Sun stood somewhere around 7 feet tall, compared to her short stature he looked nothing short of a gigantic. “Go grab the markers from the supply closet, I'll take care of pulling out the tables and chairs.”
“You know it wouldn’t kill you to say please.” Piper huffs before turning on her heels and hurrying off to get set up for drawing time. Sun can’t help but watch her retreat. Out of all of his time in the Pizzaplex he had never met anyone like her, staff member or otherwise. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, that was apparent from the small little quips she had spit out at him. Granted, he knew he had a tendency to be a bit harsh towards new hires, but that was only because almost everyone they sent him was incompetent. It's not that Sundrop was mean, he was just a perfectionist. The Daycare Attendants he has worked with in the past didn't care about the kids like he did, they didn't have the same passion for the glitter covered stick figures they would be presented with. But there was something different about Piper. Sun saw how you immediately stopped when one of the kids ran up to you, stooping down to scoop the small boy up in her arms to head in the direction he was pointing in. A ball had gotten stuck in one of the rungs on the play place, too high for any of the kids to reach safely. He watched as she maneuvered herself carefully up the brightly colored structure, wiggling the ball loose before climbing back down. She hands the ball over to the boy, giving him a high five and praising him for asking for help. She smiles as the boy runs off to play with his friends. Her eyes meet Sun’s, causing her to freeze. She lets out a sigh of relief, smiling softly as he offers her a subtle thumbs up. Sun walks away, going to set up the tables for the next activity.
“What do we have here?” A voice purrs in Sun’s head.
“There's a new Daycare Attendant.” Sun mutters quietly out loud.
The voice groans, “another one? They keep sending us these stupid humans-”
“I thought the same thing. But she seems… different.” He explains, sliding the tables across the floor.
“So that's what woke me up.” He lets out a raspy chuckle. “I guess I’ll have to see what she’s like in a couple hours.” The warmth in the back of Sun's head dissipates as his counterpart returns to sleep.
“Sundrop?” He's snapped from his thoughts by her melodic voice. He turns to find Piper standing there with multiple bins of art supplies stacked in her arms. “I have all the crayons, markers, glitter, stickers, glue sticks, and stamps.” He smiles as he listens to her list off everything he would have grabbed. “I'm having some trouble finding the paper.” She admits bashfully.
“Here, let me take these.” The cold tips of his metal fingers brush against hers as he takes the stack of containers from her. He spreads them out across the tables before turning back to her. “Let’s go look for that paper.” She was a bit shocked by his response, she was waiting for him to start yelling at her. He didn't seem too keen on working with someone new, her not being able to complete such a simple task should've set him off. She follows him into the supply closet, he lets out a soft hum as he scans over the shelves. “Here we go.” He pulls out a pack of paper and hands it to her. It appeared to be at the back of one of the very top shelves, a place she couldn't have reached if she tried. “I'll make sure to get all the paper moved down to where you can get it.” He states simply before walking back out into the daycare, leaving Piper to watch him duck out of the closet in a state of confusion. He had seemed to completely change from the animatronic she had met earlier this morning, and she couldn't figure out just what exactly had spurred the sudden shift. She got everything set up for drawing time; separating the stack of paper into smaller piles to make it easier for all the kids to share, opening all the containers and removing a couple markers that had been left uncapped and had dried out. You heard the excited screams and talking of the kids as they ran over to draw. Sun had a child in either arm, a third clung to his leg as he moved in your direction.
“Miss Piper?” Her attention was caught by a girl with strawberry blond pigtails as she tugged on her sleeve.
“Hi honey, what’s your name?” She asks cheerily, kneeling down to be closer to the girl's eye level.
“Haley.” She responds with a huge smile, her two front teeth missing.
“It’s nice to meet you Haley, what’s up?” She looks bashfully over at Sundrop before her eyes immediately dart back to Piper.
“Do you think you could help me draw a picture for Mr. Sun?” She holds out the orange crayon she had clutched in her fist. “I want to make something for him but he’s really hard to draw.”
“Of course I can.” Piper smiles brightly at her, letting out a soft chuckle at her excited expression. Haley grabs Piper by the hand, tugging her back to where she was sitting, telling all of her friends that Piper would help them make pictures for Mr. Sun. She couldn't help but smile as her time was filled with giving high fives to all the excited kids as they showed off their drawings to her, drawing a quick Sundrop head for the kids to color, and being asked a million questions about her bright colored jewelry and fun outfit. Little did she know, the whole time Sun was keeping a close eye on her, absolutely delighted by what he saw.
“How’s everyone doing over here?”
“Sunny!”
“Mr. Sun!”
“Sundrop!” Piper looks over her shoulder to see the large animatronic had made his way over to where she was working.
“Is it okay if I sit here Miss Piper?” He asks with a smile, motioning to the chair next to her. He noticed how some of the kids must have placed stickers on her cheeks, her freckles laced with sparkly stars and neon smiley faces.
“Sure, Sundrop.” She smiles sweetly at him. He crouches into the comically small chair, his knees pressed to his chest.
“Miss Piper’s been helping us draw you Mr. Sun.” Haley exclaims, giggling when the animatronic gives her an amazed expression.
“Really? You all wanted to draw me?” They all clamored over to him, wanting to show off their pictures, most of them drawings of Sundrop holding hands with that child, ‘best friends’ scrawled across the bottom in messy script. “These are so wonderful!” He leans in closer to the group, they all copy his motions with wide eyes, waiting eagerly to see what he would say to them. “How about next you guys draw some pictures of Miss Piper?” They all silently agree before hurriedly turning back to their papers and crayons. He leans back in his chair. “I'll have to admit Piper, you're doing an amazing job.” She found heat settling behind her cheeks at the compliment, her eyes darting over to meet his glowing white ones.
“Thank you, Sundrop.” She smiles shyly.
“You can call me Sun, less of a mouthful.” He chuckles. “If Moon likes you you'll have passed your trial run.” There was a slight teasing tone in his voice.
“Well, lets hope for the best then.” She smiles at him.
She was grateful for nap time once it rolled around, with so many kids it was hard to find a moment to catch her breath. “Go pick your spot.” She shoos off a small boy into the other room, dimming the lights as they all settle in. She softly shuts the door, tucking herself away in a corner so she wouldn't get in Moon’s way. She wondered why she hadn't seen any sign of the animatronic all day. Her eyes immediately drifted to Sun as he stepped in the room, as he shut the door you watch his face spin around, all of the points surrounding his head getting tucked away as a sleep cap appeared. She blinked, the gold and red stripes on his pants suddenly turning to stars.
“You must be this new Daycare Attendant I heard about.” His voice was much raspier than Sun’s, he turned to face Piper, a noticeable difference in his face from the animatronic that had just stepped in the room in front of her. The moon on his face was much more prominent, the other side of his face being blacked out save for his glowing white eye. She was amazed at the complexities of their system, not to mention the immediate difference she noticed in their personalities, if she hadn’t just seen the change in front of her she wouldn't have believed this was the same animatronic. “You just sit back here, I’ll make this quick… and try to stay awake.” He chuckles before slinking off into the dark room. She heard the soft gasps and calls for Moon that he gently shushed, patting each child's head that greeted him as he made his way to the center of the room. The soft sounds of a music box beginning to chime filled the room, a tapestry of stars slowly rotated around the ceiling. Almost like magic Piper noticed the kids near her fall asleep one by one, every one of them in the room asleep by the time his song ended. She found herself yawning, pushing her round, wire framed glasses onto the top of her head as she wiped her eyes. She stretched, her spine letting out a soft pop as she pulled her arms over her head. Her eyes fluttered open, her hand immediately clapping over her mouth to suppress the scream that had welled up in her throat. Moondrop’s face was mere inches away from her own, he studied her closely, slowly crawling around her with almost spider like movements.
“I'm assuming you must be Moon?” She whispers nervously, his gaze didn't feel as judgemental as when she first met Sun, but he still made her nervous nonetheless. He offers her a small nod in response. “I’m Piper.”
“Sun seems very impressed with you Miss Piper.” He coos softly. “I do have to say you're definitely a lot prettier than the usual Daycare Attendants they send us.” He chuckles at her flustered expression. He runs a finger over one of the star stickers on her cheek. “The kids seem to like you too, that’s good.” He carefully maneuvers around her, propping himself up against the wall at her side. “How are you enjoying your first day?”
“It’s been good, definitely not what I was expecting.” She giggles, Moon felt a strange pang in his chest at the sight of her smile. She looks out over the group of sleeping children. “You know, that?” She makes a vague motion to the room. “Very impressive.”
“I have a bit of a talent.” He chuckles in response.
“Do you only come out for nap time?” He was a bit surprised by the genuine curiosity in her tone.
“I can only come out when the lights are off.” He explains. “Nap time, sleepovers, Sun and I switch off after hours.” She sat and quietly chatted with Moon for the rest of nap time, Piper found herself a bit sad to see him go.
“It was wonderful getting to know you.” She smiles softly at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Piper.” The lights gradually grew brighter as nap time came to an end. The sleepy yawns of kids and soft giggles of them talking amongst themselves filled the room.
“Well, good morning!” Sun greets the kids cheerfully as they head back out into the main play area. She timidly makes her way up to his side, feeling a bit awkward standing next to the tall robot. “I take it everything went well with Moon?” She could tell by the softness his expression held that he already knew the answer to that.
“I hope so.” She smiles at him. “I don't want either of you to think I'm an amateur.” She mocks his assumption from the morning with a wink, making him chuckle.
“You definitely proved you're not an amateur Piper.” His hand gently comes to rest on the top of her head. Piper feels a blush spread across her cheeks as he pats the spot between her messy, copper space buns. “I'm sure they're all hungry, let's get them set up for snack time.”
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“He hasn't been giving you a rough time, has he?” Merry asks as she hands you a tray.
“No, I've actually been having a lot of fun working with him.” She admits with a small shrug and a bashful smile.
“What about Moondrop?” She follows up.
“He was also wonderful.” You reassure her.
“I'm impressed.” She mumbles as she starts to grab things to eat. “The last three people they hired had already been run off by now.” She chuckles. “I guess they did end up liking you after all.”
“I can't get over how much personality they have.” Piper smiles excitedly.
“I mean, they might as well be people with how complex of a machine they are. They're fully articulate, their AI lets them experience emotion, they're pretty much just like us without the internal organs.” They both pay for their lunches and sit down. “So, now that you've spent a couple hours with them, do you think you’re going to keep the job?” She seemed almost nervous as she asked her.
“Oh, absolutely!” Piper beams. She hurries through her lunch, exchanging goodbye’s with Merry before she heads back to the daycare. So she wouldn't cause a disruption she decided to take the stairs down to the main play area.
“Welcome back.” Sun smiles at her as she approaches. The rest of the day flew by as Piper got dragged off by a small group of kids to go play. She couldn't help but laugh as she caught sight of a girl wearing pastel pink fairy wings riding around on Sundrop’s shoulders, pretending like she was flying. Slowly your group became smaller and smaller as parents arrived to pick up their children, before you knew it you and Sun were alone, cleaning up the disaster left behind. “I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot this morning.” He suddenly apologizes, nervously tapping the curled golden toe of his shoe on the floor.
“It’s okay, from what Merry told me they threw in some real pieces of work before me.” She giggles in response. “We can always try again tomorrow.” He pauses, straightening up to look at her.
“Piper?” She hums softly, her blue eyes landing on him. Sun felt the words catch in his throat for a second. He takes a few steps closer to her, retrieving a yellow sun sticker from the booklet he kept in his pocket. He presses it to the apple of her cheek, her soft warm skin squishing under his finger as she smiles at his action. “Welcome to the team.”
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Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @twelvelevens
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sl-newsie · 11 months
Text
Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Ch. 1: Control
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“Ouch! No no no- definitely too much moon powder!” I hastily wipe my hands on my dusty skirt as I attempt to put out the purple flames coming out of my cauldron. I’m attempting a healing potion for my cat Twilight, but accidentally misread the spellbook. Mom’s spellbook.
But I’m too late to cover my tracks- I can already hear footsteps approaching outside!
“Magica! What have I told you about practicing magic?” My father yells from the doorway.
Twilight hisses and scrambles out of the kitchen, leaving me to fend for myself.
I cringe and turn around slowly. “Not to?”
My father, a tall buff man wearing a hunter’s cap, stomps into the room. “Yes! What if the Royal Guard was passing by? I don’t want you getting locked away!”
“But I don’t live on the Isle of the Lost, so magic is allowed here!”
“They don’t know-!” He sighs and rubs his head. “Since they don’t know about your mother, it’s best to just keep your magic hidden.”
“But dad, I’m finally getting the hang of this! I think I might write to Fairy Godmother and tell her about my magic-!”
“No!” My father stomps forward and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Magica, you’re my only daughter. If they found out you’re the descendant of a villain they could lock you up. I- I only want what’s best for you, understand? I know you’re proud of this gift and are a very talented witch, but sometimes it’s best to be normal.”
“But- but-!” I can feel my aunt’s temper boiling inside me. “Why should I be different?”
I wrap my cloak around me and storm out into the woods. There’s a secret spot I have near the stream that runs into the Enchanted Lake. It’s a small clearing big enough to practice my magic safely. After I sit down on a boulder I start tearing up, torn between being mad at my father for silencing my magic and being ashamed of being the descendant of an evil witch.
Yup, that’s me. Magica Sanderson, secret daughter of the infamous Sarah Sanderson. From what I’ve gathered, my mother seduced the Evil Queen’s Huntsman so Winifred Sanderson could steal one of her potions. The Huntsman became my father, and when he found out about me he immediately brought me to Snow White’s kingdom to keep me from becoming a VK. But the one thing he couldn’t avoid was the fact that I inherited my Aunt Winnie’s magical talent and my mother’s bewitching looks. I have my mother’s pale fair skin, white-blonde hair, and slim figure. I also inherited my Aunt Winnie’s bright green eyes and Aunt Mary’s love for Cheetos. I can’t help it- I’m a halfblood witch!
Father has tried to suppress my family ties by homeschooling me in our woodland cottage and dressing me in flowy pink dresses just like the goody-two-shoes kids wear at Auradon Prep. When I was old enough to control my powers, father brought me to the Auradon kingdom to meet Prince Ben, son of Beauty and the Beast. Immediately we became inseparable best friends, always causing mischief despite our parents’ disapproval. One time we slipped a hiccup potion into Chad Charming’s drink during a gala social, and spent the next half hour trying not to burst out laughing when he tried hiccuping at Audrey to ask her out! I told Ben about my powers, and he promised to keep it secret. He knows I’m nothing like my mother or aunts, and that I’d never try to hurt anyone.
But even so Ben’s acceptance can’t help fill the gap that separates me from the other kids in the village. I’m still different no matter how hard I try because I don’t have the arrogant, uppity attitude that the other kids have.
Mother, why do I have to be so different? Could I have at least one true friend who won’t disappear?
“Meow?” A voice calls.
I look over and see that Twilight has returned with another black cat- one with recognizable yellow eyes.
I sniff. “Hey, Binx. How’s it been?”
The two felines slink between my legs and rub their noses on my boots.
“Been fine, but from what Twilight’s told me you’re in a bit of a pickle. I know your dad means well, but even I agree that suppressed magic is never a good idea.”
I stop twirling pink sparks on my fingers and give Binx an odd look. “Why?”
Binx glances around nervously. “Well… I’ve heard stories of past maidens that try to bottle up their magic until any sudden breakdown can cause an outburst. Do you remember Elsa of Arendelle?”
The memory of seeing former Queen Elsa’s meltdown on tv runs through my head, and I have to agree that holding back my magic could lead to something worse.
“You’re right, Binx. But I can’t just do some tricks and expect the whole kingdom to be ok with it. I could be sent to Auradon Prep, or worse- the Isle of the Lost! And magic’s forbidden there so I’d be powerless! That and I’d have to live with-” I shutter. “My mom.”
Binx hisses and Twilight swipes a paw against my cheek. “No you won’t. We wouldn’t let that happen, and your father would protect you. I suggest you cool down a bit and then go back to the house.”
I sigh. “I guess so. But how long will I have to hide like this? All my life I’ve followed the rules and been nice, so I’m not wicked… am I?”
“No, no,” Binx assures with a soft voice. “It’s not that, it’s just that normal folks are unsettled by the strange and unusual. It’s like you said, you’ll be sent to Auradon Prep. You don’t want that, do you?”
I gag. “Ugh, no! Ben says all the people there are stuck up and half-witted fools! I would rather eat a toadstool dipped in boysenberry sauce than associate with those idiots!” I stand up and start walking back to the cottage. “Sorry Binx, but right now I better head back to father before supper. I’ll save you some fish!”
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maracujatangerine · 1 month
Text
82. Taking Note
CW: mental health issues, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump
The pale light of an overcast winter’s day flattened all the colours; the yellow curtains, the violet saintpaulia on the windowsill, the pet’s own blonde hair, everything taking on a washed-out tinge of grey. Coriander sat at the kitchen table, pen in hand, staring at a blue notebook. Miss Lydia had asked it to choose one of the notebooks at her bookshop yesterday.
“Perhaps you would like to try writing down your thoughts?” She had suggested, gently. “It is not for me to read. I promise that I won’t. Cross my heart, and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!”
She laughed, but the look in her brown eyes was serious.
“You can write down anything you want, and it will be for your eyes only, okay?”
The pet had nodded and told her that it understood. Now, Miss Lydia was out. She had gone for coffee with Cecilia, and the pet had elected to stay at home.
The notebook it had chosen had a Japanese-style drawing of a cresting wave on the cover, the white tips of the wave rendered with splashes in glossy silver. The white pages were neatly lined in black.
The radio was on in the background, a piece by Händel tugging at some half-remembered string at the back of the pet’s mind. Cory knew that Miss Lydia had left Radio 3 on for the pet’s sake, but that she wouldn’t mind if it changed the station, just like she hadn’t minded that the pet had chosen to stay behind when she went out.
It used to agonise endlessly over such small decisions. Did Miss Lydia want it to say yes or no? Would this thing make it a better pet, or would that?
Nowadays, more and more, it felt like it could trust that its owner said what she meant. If she needed it to come, she would let it know. If she gave it a choice, she truly wanted it to make up its own mind.
That was an unprecedented freedom. Generosity beyond its wildest dreams. It knew it was extraordinarily lucky.
It should be happy, should it not?
And it was grateful, it was!
But happiness eluded it
In the beginning, everything had brought it joy. Or, well, at least relief.
Having its wounds treated, feeling its body healing, aches and pains receding to the back of its mind and gradually fading away.
Hunger, the dull gnawing of an empty stomach, the weakness and loss of focus that comes with days and days without enough food to eat. The terrible fear of feeling your own body consuming itself to stay alive. No more!
In its life with Miss Lydia, Coriander could still feel hungry, sometimes. At the end of a long day, before lunch at work, out on a hike in the woodlands. But it never felt truly hungry. That bottomless need for sustenance was a thing of the past.
These things brought relief. The joy came later.
Miss Lydia gently petting its hair, and Coriander genuinely wanting - and daring - to lean into her touch.
Playing the tin whistle for Miss Indira and the doctor responding with enthusiastic applause.
Laughing together with Miss Lydia without the pet having to carefully guard every word to avoid angering its owner.
Working at the shop and being given a nod of approval from Miss Carla at a job well done.
Sitting in the garden and watching flowers bloom from seeds they had sown together.
These were all things of joy, of beauty. Miss Lydia was consistently fair and kind. The pet felt healthy now, strong, even. Its damaged shoulder still impeded its daily life, its scars ached sometimes, and the nightmares refused to go away, but these were mere trifles in the grand scheme of things.
So, why wasn’t it happy?
It should be. It had been.
But now, lately, it was like some undefined malaise had taken hold of the pet. A depressing weight that suffused everything, that stole joy out of everything, just like the grey winter light leaked the colours away.
Looking down on the pages, the pet realised it had written the same sentence over and over.
Why did this happen to me?
Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning
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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years
Text
Awake My Soul • 11
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
WC: 3.9k
Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.
Chapter Warnings: Canon level violence. Mentions of death, blood, injury, torture.
Series Masterlist / Series Playlist
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“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Bucky growled, throwing his cards on the ground and crossing his arms in a huff.
Steve chuckled, grabbing the pile in front of him and reshuffling the deck. “Face it, Buck. You’re shit at this game.”
“It’s fucking War, Stevie. There’s literally no strategy to it, just chance.”
The blond cocked his brow. “Then how come I keep kicking your ass?”
Bucky glared at him, a smile creeping up his face. “Alright then, if you’re so good, how about this? If I win this round, you finally have to ask Nat out on a date.”
Steve stopped shuffling, his shoulders rising and falling as he let out a deep breath.
“Buck, I’m not going to ask someone out based on a bet.”
“Then what the fuck is it going to take to get you to do it? You gotta tell me man so that I can be put out of my misery after watching you two pine over each other for years. Should I write her a note with those boxes to check off either yes, no, or maybe? Should I ask Lena to ask her out for you? Honestly this would be so much easier if we still had phones and could text each other-”
“Alright, alright, enough already,” Steve groaned as his friend resolved into a fit of laughter at his obvious annoyance. “I just…I don’t want to make things weird. Besides, she’s amazing. What would someone like her want with a Brooklyn schmuck like me?”
Bucky softened, leaning forward to lightly shove Steve’s arm. “Hey, don’t talk about my best friend like that. You’re the best guy there is, and anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Steve smiled, resuming his shuffling and dealing out cards for the both of them. “Alright, tomorrow, I promise I will seriously consider asking out Natasha.”
A beam lit up Bucky’s face and he clenched his hand into a fist in victory. “With that attitude,I bet  you two will be married within the next decade.” 
Steve rolled his eyes. “Hopefully by that point, you’ll have found someone for yourself, bud.”
Bucky sighed, shaking his head as he collected his cards. “Nah, I don’t think so. I feel like I’m gonna be a lone wolf kinda guy. Makes things easier, you know?”
Steve shrugged. “Might be easier, but I think you’d be seriously missing out on a chance at something amazing. I can’t think of anyone else who deserves to be happy more than you, Buck.”
“Alright, Romeo,” Bucky said, chuckling, “where is this hopeless romantic side of you when it comes to allowing love into your life-”
The overhead lighting in the bell tower flashed off suddenly, the bulb shifting from a faint yellow to a bright, unforgiving red.
Steve and Bucky looked at each other, dropping their cards on the ground.
Bucky grabbed his binoculars, scanning the perimeter of the church. “I don’t see anything,” he murmured. “I’ll go down and do a sweep.”
Steve nodded, tossing him a flashlight. “You know the drill. Twice, false alarm. Three-”
“Three times, shit’s going down,” Bucky finished, saluting his friend and leader before grabbing his gear and climbing down the ladder.
“I’ll keep watch up here,” Steve added. “Be careful.”
“Always am!”
“You never are, Buck.”
“Sorry, can’t hear you!”
Bucky pulled out his machete as soon as he got to the bottom, cautiously making his way down the sanctuary of the church. It had to have been around 3am, so the rest of the camp was sleeping in their quarters in the dorms previously used by the nuns who worked here when this used to be a functioning religious establishment. 
He heard steps coming from behind him and whipped around, ready to swipe his blade at his attacker.
His body relaxed instantly at the sight of his friend, a smile spread across his face in relief. “Ward, what the fuck are you doing up so late-”
His question was cut off as Ward walked up and landed a right hook across his jaw, body falling over until his head connected with the corner of one of the pews.
That’s when everything faded to black.
Bucky woke a few minutes later as a bright light burned through his closed eyelids. He slowly opened them, the sanctuary spinning for a few seconds, a sharp pain in his head. 
It only took a few seconds for him to make out the image before him, and he jumped into action.
The church was on fire.
He looked around, finding the place empty, then ran toward the main doors.
Coulson was laying on the steps of the church entrance, a bullet in between his eyes.
When he looked up, he saw Laura being dragged away by two men in all black, and he sprinted toward them.
One of the men let go of her and pulled out his gun, taking a shot at Bucky, but he missed.
Which allowed Bucky enough time to take the man down with one swing.
Laura - now able to use the right side of her body - grabbed a dagger and plunged it into her other attacker’s neck.
Bucky grabbed her by the arm. “Are you okay?” She nodded. “Where are the others?”
She let out a sob. “Maria, Tony, and Nick are down. Steve ran to the dorms to grab the others. I saw Pepper and Morgan head to the woods.”
“Laur!” Clint ran up to the both of them, face nearly crumbling with relief as he wrapped his wife in his arms. He turned to Bucky. “It’s a shitshow. I don’t know where these guys came from-”
“It was Ward,” Bucky growled. “He led them here.”
Clint’s eyes widened. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
Bucky shook his head. “Not today. The two of you, go find Pepper and Morgan. I’ll send anyone else toward you. If things go bad, just run. Get to the nearest pharmacy.”
Laura gave him a quick hug and the two of them sprinted toward the woods, and Bucky turned his focus back on the dorms.
He could see through the windows that most of the building was up in flames, and the closer he got the more his face burned.
But he couldn’t stop. He had to make sure everyone was safe. He had to find Steve.
Just as he began his ascent up the stairs into the building, Sarah emerged, holding a bloody, unconscious Carol at her side.
Tears streamed down her face. “Bucky,” Sarah cried out, “help me.”
He took hold of Carol's other side, helping to carry her down the stairs.
Sarah jumped up, eyes on the burning building. “My boys,” she sobbed. “They’re still in there. Steve-”
“I got it,” Bucky yelled, already running in. “Get to the woods! Find the others! We’ll get AJ and Cass!”
Tears burned in his eyes from the heat, and Bucky hovered his arm over his face to block it off best he could.
He just had to get to the boys. To Steve.
Little did he know that he was just about to lose any lingering sense of hope that he might have still possessed in a matter of minutes.
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“Bucky?” you said softly after a minute of him staring blankly at you. “Are you okay?”
He blinked. “What…what did you just say?”
You swallowed, thumb stroking his cheekbone.
“Steve. I think he’s alive. He was…Hydra has him.”
Bucky shook his head. “That’s impossible-”
“Blond hair? Blue eyes?” Bucky’s own blue eyes widened. “He was taken in four months before I left, meaning it was right around the time you guys said you were attacked. I hardly ever saw him, and they never called him by his first name, I only knew him as Rogers.” You breathed out another small sob. “If I had known, I would have-”
Lips crashed against yours in a needy, feverish kiss.
When Bucky pulled back, his eyes were alight, a small smile creeping on his face. 
Your brow furrowed. “You’re not…you’re not mad?”
He shook his head, expression unchanging.
“Steve’s alive,” he stated.
You nodded, a hopeful smile growing on your own face. “Steve’s alive.”
And then you were moving, his metal hand tightly gripping yours as he dragged you out of the building.
Within minutes, you were with Sam in the meeting room, relaying your story to the camp’s new leader. A restless Bucky stood by your side, trying to keep still as his body jittered with nervous and excited energy.
“We have to go,” he blurted out once you were finished. “Now. I’ll let the others know and we can head out by nightfall.”
Sam’s mouth pressed into a thin line, hands tightening around the edge of the desk he was sitting against. 
“Bucky,” he said slowly, sternly, “you know it’s not that simple.”
Bucky scoffed. “We can’t just sit here and wait for him to fucking find us, Sam. We have to get him!”
“I’m not saying we sit back and do nothing. Obviously I want to go out and get him just as badly as you do-”
“Then what the hell are we still doing standing here-”
“-but, this is a big thing we’re going up against. We have to come up with a plan. This is a powerhouse you’re suggesting our team - which is much smaller than it was when we first fought them - try and fight on their turf. Yes I want Steve back, but the last thing he’d want would be for us to put our family at risk because we weren’t prepared. Bruce tells me he’s almost done with the blaster weapons, we could start strategizing and Y/n can give us intel on their base.”
You could see your partner shaking his head from the corner of your eye and you turned to look at him, his jaw clenched in frustration. Your arm wrapped around his in comfort.
“Hydra is at least a week away, and that’s if we’re lucky and find horses to ride. Otherwise it’s a month on foot. He could be dead by the time we get there.”
Sam let out a long sigh. “He might already be dead, Buck.”
His body stilled against you. “Do you even fucking care Sam? What the hell is this?” His voice grew louder, angrier.
“Bucky-” you whispered.
“Of course I fucking care!” Sam shouted, standing straight. “And hell, if it were just me I had to worry about I would have left five fucking minutes ago! But it’s not, and I need to look out for what’s left of our pack. I have to make sure Morgan, Cass, and AJ have parents that will return to them! I have to make sure that we can even make it to the Hydra alive so that Steve doesn’t rot in there because we had no idea what we were doing.”
“But-”
“Drop it Bucky,” Sam said with finality. “We’ll meet about this tonight after dinner to discuss next steps.” His face softened. “As soon as we’re ready, we’ll leave. I promise you that. We’re gonna get him back, but we have to ensure that everyone else gets to come back, too.”
Bucky opened his mouth, ready to say something, then shut it, and you wondered if he was going to have any teeth left from how tightly he was clenching them together.
Without a word, he gently released himself from your hold and stormed off, punching a hole in the wall with his vibranium arm.
You flinched, tears welling in your eye from how upset he was.
Maybe you shouldn’t have told him…
“It’s good that you did,” Sam responded to the thought you had apparently said out loud. You turned to him and he gave you an understanding smile. “He deserves to know, and though he’s mad, this is great news.” He sighed, expression now painted with guilt. “I hope….I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to save Steve as soon as possible-”
The hitch in his voice pulled your feet toward him until your arms were wrapping him in a tight hug.
“I know,” you whispered as he returned the embrace. You pulled away. “You’re our leader for a reason, Sam. We trust you, and that includes Bucky. What was it you all kept telling me when I first got here and I thought he hated my guts?”
Sam breathed out a small laugh. “Just give it time.”
You nodded. “Just give it time. He’ll cool off. 
He squeezed your arm. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here.”
Another nod. “Me, too. Now, let’s go talk to the others and finally get Steve back.”
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Bucky kept to himself for the rest of the night.
Right after you left the meeting room, you went to his, only to find the door closed.
You knocked.
Silence.
You attempted to turn the handle.
Locked.
You tried to ignore the ache in your chest, trying to tell yourself that he needed time. He’d come to you when he was ready.
So with a heavy heart, you stepped away and began telling the group to meet with you and Sam after dinner.
It took a few minutes for the shock to wear off once the two of you laid everything out, but as soon as it did, everyone got to work forming a plan.
Bruce and Peter were finishing final prototypes for the new blasters, and if they passed their tests they could start producing more for at least a few members to hold onto. 
Laura and Clint would go out and start collecting horses and board them at a nearby farm to shave off travel time.
Dum Dum would start meal prepping so that the gang had enough food supplies for the journey there and back. Him, Pepper, and Bruce would stay back with the kids.
Yelena and Kate would get to training everyone full time, individually and in groups.
You’d be working with Sam - and hopefully Bucky - to give them details on the Hydra base so that you could plan your attack.
In two weeks, you would be on your way.  
Two weeks before you’d be heading back to your prison.
That was the thought constantly nagging you in the back of your brain. Don’t go back. Don’t go back.
You could have stayed behind as the others left. Sam continuously reminded you of that. It was your choice to go or stay. The ramifications of you returning to Hydra were much more dangerous than anyone else.
If there was even a chance that this plan could fail and they could capture you once more, you’d be right back where you were, and they’d be one step closer to finding out how to develop a cure to gain even more power.
It would be very very very bad.
But this was Steve. Shield’s family. Bucky’s family. And that made him yours.
And if there was anything you could do to keep your family safe, you would.
Even if the nagging thought persisted.
Don’t go back. 
Don’t. Go. Back.
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Bucky stood outside your bedroom door, hand hovering over the handle, fingers twitching as he debated his next moves.
You were most likely asleep, getting some rest in before the two of you were supposed to be on watch.
He just wanted to see you.
One last time.
Before he did something really stupid.
Bucky took a deep breath, closing his eyes as they began to sting with tears, hand going back to his side.
It was too risky.
Too selfish.
It was also unnecessary, because he saw you everytime he closed his eyelids. Could recreate every single detail of what you looked like because it was permanently seared inside his brain. 
He took a step back, finding it painfully difficult to walk further away from you.
But this was how it needed to be.
He needed to go save Steve.
If he waited any longer, he could be dead by the time he got there.
He needed to go.
His metal hand tightened around the strap of his bag and he descended down the stairs.
All that was left to do was run to the arsenal room to go grab the bag of food and extra weapons he had packed during the group’s meeting, and then he’d be on his way.
Bucky stopped short when he reached the back corner of the room where the bag was supposed to be hidden, but instead he was face to face with an empty spot.
“Looking for something, Beefcake?”
He stilled, body tensing before slowly turning around to find you leaning against the door frame, his extra bag around your shoulder, arms crossed as you looked at him like he had just got caught looking through his Ma’s wallet.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, though he knew it was a stupid question.
Your eyes went to the ground and you stood straight. “Welp, I had been looking around for a brooding, ridiculously attractive man who I felt needed a hug or something. When I checked in here a few hours ago to try and find him, I noticed a few weapons were missing…” Your brows rose as you gave him a knowing look. “That’s when I found the bag. Wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.”
Bucky’s head hung low. “I wanted to tell you,” he mumbled. “I just-”
“We can talk about it on the road,” you said casually, and his head shot back up to look at you, eyes wide. You leaned down to grab something behind the wall, holding it up for him to see.
It was the blaster Bruce and Peter had been working on.
Realization sank in and Bucky began shaking his head fervently. “No. Absolutely not. You’re staying here.”
Your lips twisted to one side. “Sorry, Beefcake, but no can do. I gotta make sure your ass makes it out alive.”
He walked over to you, jaw clenching. “You know it’s too dangerous for you to go back there.” It made him sick to think of the things Hydra could do to you if they caught you again. He had half a mind to blow the entire operation up while he was there.
You nodded. “I also know that there’s almost no chance that you’re going to be able to stay here for two more weeks to wait for the rest of the group to prepare.”
Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head in agreement.
“I gotta get him.”
Your hand reached up to rest against his face. “Then let me help you.”
“No.”
“Bucky,” you pleaded, any trace of humor or sarcasm in your tone gone. “Please. If you go there by yourself, Hydra will have you in a cell before you can even get through their first border patrol. I know the place, I’ve escaped it. I can keep you safe and we can finally save Steve. Together.”
There was a tremor in your voice as you said the last sentence and concern rushed through Bucky. He held your face between his hands. “Hey, hey,” he soothed. “What’s up? What am I missing?”
You leaned your head into his hand, eyes closing for a moment as you gathered your thoughts.
With a sigh, you opened your eyes to meet Bucky’s.
“Steve…Steve was the one who helped me escape.”
He furrowed his brows in confusion.
You continued. “That day, there was an uprising in the prison. Someone had managed to unlock all of the doors to let people escape. It was chaos. I was still strapped to one of the chairs for testing when the guards ran out to investigate, but they had left their….tools close enough for me to grab. I cut myself free and ran.”
Bucky continued staring at you, his body growing tense at the idea of you being tied down for them to do their bidding.
“I was running down one of the hallways when two of the guards managed to grab hold of me. I started screaming for help, trying my best to fight back. Suddenly, I was free, and I looked down to find them both on the ground. When I turned around, there he was. Rogers - as I knew him then - his face covered in dirt, fists clenched. He asked if my name was Y/n and when I said yes he just grabbed my hand and led me down various hallways until we were in the basement.”
His chest swelled. Only Steve could have managed to save the woman who now owned Bucky’s heart without even realizing.
“Eventually, we were at a large tunnel, one that Steve said would get me outside. I tried asking him questions, but he cut me off, saying I needed to go.” Your voice began to tremble as you continued. “He…he must have known about my blood and knew I needed to get as far away from Hydra as possible. He saved my life that day, and I just left him behind-”
“Hey,” Bucky leaned forward to wrap you in a tight embrace, cradling your head against his chest. “Steve knew what he was doing. He needed to get you out and keep you safe.”
“But that means that your best friend is still there being tortured. He deserves to be here, not me.”
Bucky felt his heart break in slow motion as he pulled back to meet your eyes, his own stinging with tears.
“Listen to me, Sweetheart. Never feel like you don’t deserve to be here. As much as I fucking miss Steve and wish that he was safe, if he hadn’t gotten you out then I wouldn’t have you in my life. And now we have a chance to save him..”
You blinked a few times, the right corner of your lips quirking up ever so slightly.
“So you agree, then? We should both go save him?”
Shock crossed over his face, followed quickly by the scowl that was uniquely yours.
You never ceased to amaze him.
Before he had a chance to argue, you continued on. “I swear to you that if there is even a chance that I’m in danger of….being taken again,” you closed your eyes for a moment before looking back at the storm of blue in Bucky’s eyes, “I’ll get the hell out of there. But just know that I’m dragging you out with me. And then you have to swear to me that if this doesn’t work that we will regroup with the rest of camp and follow the larger plan.”
Bucky stared at you, rushing through a million scenarios in his head of what could go wrong.
Or what could go right.
No matter the scenario, though, he realized he couldn’t imagine one without you by his side.
So, with one last exacerbated sigh, Bucky nodded.
Before you had a chance to give him a smug grin that was so uniquely his, he pulled you close and crashed his lips to yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. He tried to pour every ounce of comfort, need - and something else he wasn’t quite yet ready to admit to you out loud - into it. Everything he wanted to say in this brief moment, he said in this kiss.
Your eyes were still closed when he pulled his head back, mouth open slightly.
When you finally opened your eyes and closed your mouth, your expression shifted into that smug grin he had memorized long ago.
“Alright, Beefcake. Let’s go save Steve.”
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Chapter 12
567 notes · View notes
krillissue · 4 months
Text
Forbidden Fruit
I took a look at my Vampire Vash and Vampire Wolfwood and thought, "Hey, I should write something with them together!" And then a friend jokingly suggested an X Reader so, here it is! A Vashpire/Vampwood crossover sandwich.
Reader uses he/him pronouns but I tried to keep everything vague (this is my first try at an x reader so please be kind) There is no use of y/n, I use instead nicknames (little lamb, sweetheart, darling, baby)
No major warnings, other than blood drinking and shady make outs in a dingy alley. There's gratuitous flirting, praise, slight possessiveness, mild public indecency, alcohol. 4K words
M for Mature content
It was a still night, the rain-soaked streets reflecting the streetlights and made anyone out scurry for cover. You ducked into a seedy-looking dive bar, the red neon sign by the door a fangy smile but no name you could see. Shaking out your damp hair, you take a glance around. The interior was dim with numerous neon signs shedding different-colored pools of light around the patrons. No one seemed to pay you mind as you slowly made your way to the bar, figuring you might as well get a drink while you wait out the rain and warm up. 
“What’ll it be?” The bartender was a stern redhead, her piercing blue eyes seeming to look straight through you. You search the chalked menu behind her, looking for anything that sounded good but there were too many options. You opened your mouth to order but a gruff voice cut you off before you could get a word out. 
“Don’t order off the specials, darlin’. You won’t like ‘em.” The man that had slid up next you was tall, dark, and handsome. You could smell his leather jacket and musky cologne even without the arm boxing you in. He was pressed close to your ear, leaning down to whisper. “What’s a lost little lamb like you doing in a place like this?” 
“Take it easy on him!” Another man took up position on your other side, this one blonde and smiling. “The poor thing probably just wanted out of the rain. Isn’t that right?” His blue eyes were hidden behind yellow shades but they were open and earnest. You trusted him a bit more than “dark and broody” beside you. 
“Yeah...do you have any recommendations?” Blondie gave you a sweet smile and it filled you with warmth but not to be ignored, you felt a rough finger trace lightly across the back of your neck. 
“Spikey always wants something sweet. Are you sweet, little lamb?” 
“That’s enough, Wolf. Back off.” The bartender shooed him off with a cold glare before her features softened towards you again. “I can mix you whatever you want. And we have beer on tap if that’s more your speed.” You nod, grateful to have some breathing room. The so-called Wolf was gorgeous in black leather and an open dark red shirt, most of his hairy chest on display. Being the target of his attention had set your heart racing like a frightened rabbit but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the sexiest man you’d ever seen. You ordered and took your drink to a small round table, just planning on people-watching. A particularly rowdy table near the back kept catching your attention, the group all yelling excitedly about something to an almost frenzied level. 
The longer you sat however, you noticed several patrons watching you back. Not all of them looked friendly. Curiously, Wolf and Blondie kept close but still gave you space, always in your periphery. It was starting to set your nerves on edge, everyone eyeing you like a piece of meat. 
“Can I sit with you?” Blondie was smiling still, pointing to the chair beside you. With the neon pink and blue lights on his pretty face you finally noticed, he had a nice smile. Why were these two gorgeous boys wanting to sit with you? They clearly knew each other but weren’t mixing with anyone else at the bar. It wasn’t exactly suspicion at their intentions giving you pause but something felt off. 
“If you want to. Your friend going to join us, too?” 
“He’s not so bad, is he?” He took his seat and smiled toothily, his own drink dangling by his fingertips. “My name is Vash, it’s nice to meet you.” What a weird name. You told him yours in return and took a sip, waiting for the looming shadow of the Wolf to appear. 
A large cool hand settled on the back of your neck, gently squeezing. It could only be one man getting so friendly with you. He leaned down over your shoulder to grin, his dark eyes mostly hidden behind his shades. Why were these two wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? 
“You looked lonely all by yourself, little lamb.” You stiffened at his presence behind your back but he moved to the seat on your other side, his posture relaxed and open. “You gotta be careful wandering into a place like this. Not everyone’s so friendly.” 
“Like you?” The alcohol gave you a boldness you wouldn’t normally possess but his cocky grin was starting to get under your skin. He chuckled, unphased. 
“You’ve got better chances with the wolves than these fine folks, I’ll tell ya that.” He took out a heavy silver lighter and started flipping it open and closed, the light catching on its shiny surface. You thought you’d smelled cigarette smoke clinging to him earlier. 
Taking another glance around, there did seem to be some pretty hungry-looking characters lurking around. A sharp-eyed lanky figure with too many silver chains and black clothing was chatting up an equally intimidating red-haired fox-faced person, both of them smirking like the cat that ate the canary. And a white-haired man with his finger hooked through the collar of the person beside him kept winking at you, a cocky grin to rival Wolf’s. 
They all seemed to shy away with Vash and Wolf on either side of you, though. Scary dog privileges? Well, at least one scary dog. Vash was more of a golden retriever than anything. You could practically see his tail wagging as he smiled at you both. 
“You’re scaring him!” Vash playfully chastised his companion, leaning forward on the table. “They aren’t so bad. They just aren’t used to...someone like you coming in here.” You bristled at his implication but he was so sweet and unassuming. It didn’t seem like he was trying to insult you. 
“Sweet little thing like you, you should be grateful we picked you up.” He swiped Vash’s untouched drink from his dangling fingers and knocked it back before offering his hand to shake. “Nicholas D. Wolfwood, at your service. I specialize in looking after lost lambs.” You took his hand and noted again how his skin was cool to the touch. Shouldn’t it really have warmed up by now? The strangeness of the evening was starting to make your head spin but it really did seem like these two were looking out for you. They were subtle about it but both were giving little warning glances at anyone that got a little too close or stared too long. 
“Do you want another drink?” Vash snapped you out of your thoughts with a point to your empty glass. You nodded stiffly, wanting something to settle your nerves a bit more. 
“So...why’s everyone staring at me? Are you all in a club or something?” Wolfwood smirked at your question, flicking his tongue out to lick his lip. 
“In a way.” He gestured to a pale blue sign on the other side of the bar in the shape of a blinking eye, or maybe it was winking, there was only the one. “Most people who come here are part of the Eye. We all know each other, more or less. You’re a fresh face.” 
“And that’s bad?” 
“Oh, no, it’s good. Everyone wants a piece of fresh meat.” He licked his teeth then, his canines a little sharper than they had any right to be. You had to admit he lived up to his “Wolf” nickname well. “Blondie and I just wanted to make sure a pretty thing like you didn’t get torn to shreds.” The thought sent your heart racing but not from fear exactly. You couldn’t stop thinking about those fangs of his at your throat. 
Before your thoughts could get away from you too much, Vash returned with a refill, the glass held in a strange metallic hand. A prosthetic, you assumed. It was a work of art, really. You wondered what it would feel like against your skin. You tried to shake your head clear of that particular train of thought. Sure, these two were handsome and friendly but nothing was going to happen. Not with you. 
Right? 
The three of you chatted while you sipped your second drink, your thoughts only getting more muddled the longer they kept giving you their attention. You felt a bit like a rabbit caught in a snare, their sharp grins and teasing remarks going straight down south. Vash was friendly and asked you endless questions, and as he got more comfortable, he started finding excuses to touch you. His fingers were just as cool as Wolfwood’s but you didn’t have much room to wonder about it when he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room. 
And Wolfwood, he refused to be ignored. Anytime Vash had your attention too long, he’d drag it back to himself. He was bolder with touching you, unsurprisingly. But you found yourself leaning into it the more he did it. It started to feel like the two of them were playing a game, trying to one-up the other. All you cared about was that you seemed to be the prize. You’d happily get out of here with either one but it seemed they wouldn’t be satisfied until you chose. 
“Do you want another drink?” Vash turned your face back towards him, his fingers gently hooked under your chin. His big blue eyes were half-lidded and his smile sly. You were practically melting in your seat but shook your head. The last thing you needed was alcohol loosening your lips any more than they already were. 
“You’re really pretty,” You found yourself saying anyway, Vash’s angelic face tinted in pinks and blues and the orange of his glasses. His eyes got all squinty with his warm smile, his thumb gently brushing your bottom lip. 
“You’re sweet, aren’t you? But I think you’re the pretty one here. I could just eat you up.” Vash started to pull you closer and for a moment you thought he’d kiss you but Wolfwood’s hand rested on your neck. He pulled you back towards him, his fingers scratching pleasantly into your nape. 
“What about me? Am I pretty?” He said it with a big enough smirk that you could tell he was teasing. But fuck it, you’d compliment him too. Didn’t want the big guy feeling left out. 
“You’re sexy.” Your face flamed for the boldness but you might as well go all in. “Like, you look like a mistake I’d happily make.” 
“Oh, sweet thing. I don’t bite. Not unless you want me to.” His dark eyes peeked out over his shades, his fangs glinting in the red light pooling over him. Fangs. Fangs. At last, your overheated brain connected the dots. Too late, you realized what all of these feral grins turned your way meant. 
“I wouldn’t complain.” What had gotten into you? Alcohol makes you too honest. Vash chuckled beside you, leaning in close to your ear. 
“I wouldn’t be so quick to volunteer. He’s greedy.” They met eyes, Wolfwood glaring. 
“And you aren’t? I spotted him first.” 
“He likes me better,” Vash sounded smug, pressing a soft kiss near your ear. “Don’t you, sweetheart?” 
“H-hey, you’re both hot as fuck! I don’t think I could choose.” Wolfwood took you from Vash’s gentle grip and nipped your ear, his fangs just barely scraping. 
“But you’d choose me, right?” This was quickly getting to be too much. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, these two gorgeous devils driving you crazy. You stood, planting your hands firmly on the table to steady on your slightly unbalanced legs. 
“I think... I should probably get some air.” 
“We’ll join you.” Vash stood as well, his lanky height suddenly making you feel smaller than you are. 
“I could use a smoke.” Wolfwood got to his feet as well and stuck an unlit cigarette between his teeth. “Lead the way, lamb. We’ll follow.” 
This hadn’t exactly been your plan but it didn’t seem like you were getting away from either of them any time soon. You made your way carefully towards the door, the two vampires flanking you. That’s what they were, you were certain of it now. Everyone in the bar was probably nonhuman, now that knew what to look for. The air outside had grown colder with the rain, and the drops were still pattering softly. You shivered, but continued around to the side where there was a bit of an overhang and Wolfwood’s smoke wouldn’t be right by the door. 
He lit up, his dark eyes pinning you to the wall over his shades. Without the lights from the signs in the bar, you could tell there was a red glow deep in them. Wolfwood offered you the pack with a smirk. 
“You want one?” 
“No, thanks.” I just wanted to follow you into this dark alley, you thought to yourself. Vash sidled up to you, leaning his back against the chilly brick wall. Wolfwood politely blew his smoke downwind from you both, unbothered by the rain slowly weighing down his shaggy mane. 
“Are you cold?” Vash’s pretty face was pinched in concern and before you could answer, he slung his arm around you. He wasn’t much warmer than the air around you but his torso blocked some of the biting wind. Pressed so close to him, you could finally discern his more mild scent. It was something citrusy and warm, maybe oranges? You tried not to give away the deep inhale but he just chuckled and hugged you a bit tighter. 
“Are ya feelin’ better, lamb?” Wolfwood joined you both, his cigarette forgotten dangling from his lips. “Your head feelin’ a little clearer?” You did feel more sober out here in the crisp air, the hazy lights and hypnotic music from the bar just an afterimage in your mind. But these two still had an intoxicating presence to them, especially when they kept speaking to you in their soft sweet voices. 
“I know what you want from me,” You mumbled, shrinking further into Vash’s jacket. It was warm, the rough canvas thick and comforting. “I figured it out, you’re both vampires, aren’t you?” You expected them to laugh or refute you but they just shared a smile, both of their fangs on display. 
“Very good, sweetheart.” Vash thumbed your chin again, turning your face up towards him. His blue eyes had a kind of glow to the irises, shining through his orange shades. “You wandered into the wolves’ den without realizing. You’re lucky we were here tonight.” 
“Plenty of them wouldn’t be so careful with a pretty little thing like you.” Wolfwood had propped himself against the wall by his arm, effectively blocking you in against Vash’s chest. He loomed over you but kept enough distance to not touch you for now. 
“You just want my blood, right? That’s what all of this is?” You started to feel anger bubbling up. Not just because they’d been toying with you all night but because you had started to believe it. But they were just hungry and you should leave. You shoved away from Vash and got a few steps down the alley before you stopped and looked back at them. 
They weren’t chasing after you. They were having a quiet exchange you couldn’t hear, both of their expressions disappointed but not at all what you expected. Maybe you had wanted them to come after you, just a little. It stung, the thought that they didn’t even want your blood. You turned again to leave but Vash called out your name, his shuffling footsteps bringing him closer. 
“Wait, it’s not what you think.” You whirled around, catching him by surprise. 
“Then what is it, huh? Explain it to me.” You crossed your arms as you waited for an explanation. Vash looked sheepish, glancing back at Wolfwood who gave him a “go on'' gesture. 
“We do want a drink, that’s true. But we aren’t monsters, we aren’t going to take you by force.” 
“So the flirting was just a lie? To convince me to let you bite me?” 
“Not entirely!” Vash held up both his hands, smiling nervously. He looked again at Wolfwood for help but he seemed pleased just watching. “I-- We both like you. You’re not just a meal we’re trying to share.” 
“You don’t even know me,” You said with an eye roll. 
“Call it a feeling, then. I can tell you’re something special.” Vash offered his gloved hand then, looking all the world like an apologetic angel. “You can always say no, we won’t force you.” You looked at Wolfwood over his shoulder and he beckoned with his hooked finger, making your stomach clench. You wanted to believe their honeyed words spoken with their forked tongues. Sure, maybe it was a little exploitative, but you weren’t getting nothing in return. Call it mutually beneficial. 
You took Vash’s offered hand and he pulled you back towards where Wolfwood was waiting. Vash backed up against the wall but pulled you against his chest this time, his long-fingered hands resting on your waist. His usual big sunny smile had turned more sultry as he leaned in, nosing gently against your throat. You melted into his touch, a whimper escaping without meaning to. Wolfwood pressed against your back, pinning you both to the wall. His hands were a lot less gentle with you, manhandling your hips to push them back against his. You felt his teeth against your neck before his tongue, his lick making you shiver. 
“W-wait, wait,” You pushed against Vash’s chest, trying to get some room to breathe. It momentarily distracted you that Vash’s chest was a lot firmer and broader than it looked under his bulky turtleneck. “You’re both going to bite me?” 
“We’ll be careful with you, promise.” Vash was quick to reassure you, rubbing your sides with his thumbs. “You’ll like it, trust me. But if you want us to stop, just say so.” 
“Can you-- Can you kiss me? Please?” Vash looked at you fondly, biting his lip to hold in whatever he wanted to say. But he still leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and cool. It was nice but not what you wanted, especially sandwiched between them. You grabbed his shirt to pull him in, deepening the kiss until he gasped into your mouth. He tasted metallic and sweet, his sweet little fangs just barely dragging against your lip. You wanted more. 
“Oh, what a hungry little lamb you are,” Wolfwood praised in your ear, his hands dragging up your shirt, his rough hands scraping over your overheated skin. Or maybe his was just cold? You couldn’t tell anymore, not with Vash’s tongue in your mouth. Wolfwood brought his hand up to cup your throat, not grabbing it hard enough to block your air, and kissed the side, sucking little marks you’d hate him for tomorrow. Maybe. It felt so good, you relaxed back against him. His gruff voice in your ear started murmuring directions, telling you where to touch Vash. 
You broke away from his lips when you dove in for his ear, nipping his gold loop earring. He squeezed your waist in his surprise before retaliating with a hand hooking behind your thigh to pull it up around his hip. Like this, you were pressed firmly between them, trapped by both. Vash’s hand squeezed your thigh as he held your leg in place, joining Wolfwood in kissing your neck. 
“Stop hoggin’ him, Blondie.” Wolfwood griped over your shoulder, shoving Vash in the shoulder. 
“Oh, feeling left out? Jealous he likes me better?” Vash smirked as he pulled you back against his chest, making Wolfwood draw in closer as well. 
“You wish, give ‘im here, I’ll show ya.” Wolfwood yanked you by your hips, threatening to rip you from Vash’s arms. “Don’t you wanna kiss me, darlin’?” His voice had tipped a bit into whininess, something that spun your head. They let you turn in their grip so you could face Wolfwood, Vash taking up the task of kissing your neck in his place. It was easy to slip your hands into Wolfwood’s open shirt, his necklaces clinking together pleasantly as you buried your face there, just taking a moment to savor his ample pecs. 
When he grew impatient and kissed you, his big hands held your chin and neck in place. He tasted like cigarettes and smoke but you didn’t mind, he devoured your mouth in the sweetest way. His scruff tickled at your skin but you didn’t care, he bit you like he meant it. 
“Don’t I get a kiss?” Vash’s soft voice filtered in slowly, your lungs starting to cry out for air the longer Wolfwood took it away. But he broke away to give a sloppy kiss over your shoulder, letting you suck in much needed air. 
“Little lamb,” Wolfwood tipped your chin back towards him, licking his lip. “Can we have a taste now? I bet you’re as sweet as you look.” Your thoughts immediately went to your arousal, absolutely nowhere to hide it with them so close. But they meant your blood, obviously. You nodded stiffly, slight disappointment in your eyes. “Oh, that won’t do. I need a verbal agreement and less sadness in those pretty eyes. What’s wrong, baby?” 
“Is it too much?” Vash hugged you, resting his chin on your shoulder. 
“N-no, it’s just that-- It’ll be over. I don’t want it to be over.” 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Vash’s voice was sweet as honey in your ear, his soft lips brushing the shell. “We can take you home, if that’s what you want. All you have to do is ask.” 
“Yes! Yes, please? Please, I want that,” The pleas fell from your lips embarrassingly fast but you’d do anything to keep these gorgeous boys kissing you. You grabbed Wolfwood’s shirt to yank him closer, presenting your throat to him. 
“Such a good boy,” Wolfwood kissed your neck before finding the place to sink his teeth in. It burned for only a moment and then the warmth started to bloom in your gut. You threaded your fingers into his damp hair, the moisture giving you a firm grip on it. He grunted when you pulled on it, his sucking growing more insistent. But Vash didn’t want to be left out, he was nosing the other side of your neck. He pressed soft kisses before his fangs sank in, the sweet heady warmth making you floaty and limp. Their combined sturdy frames kept you up, but you were certain without them you would have tumbled to the ground. 
They drank messily, Vash’s moans breathy and high, Wolfwood’s low grunts. Blood trailed down your neck and made a mess of your clothes but that was the furthest thought from your head. You were pressing your thighs together, desperately trying to relieve the almost-painful building pressure. Vash and Wolfwood were close enough to grind against but it wasn’t enough, far from it. You wanted them inside you. Vash pulled away from your neck first, lapping the little pinpricks closed. Wolfwood needed a bit more convincing but eventually left a farewell kiss there as well. 
“Please, please,” You pressed your face into Wolfwood’s chest, legs shaking with how badly you needed something. It was Vash’s hands that found your hips, his slim fingers teasing at your waistband. 
“Do you want some help, sweetheart?” You nodded before grabbing Wolfwood’s cheeks, pulling him for more kisses. He happily obliged, occupying your mouth while Vash opened your pants and slipped his hand inside. He was slow at first, casting glances around. But Wolfwood’s mouth muffled your moans and their bulk hid you almost entirely. Vash urged you on with muttered praise, peppering kisses everywhere he could reach from his cramped position. Too quick, you felt your orgasm building, and you desperately gripped at Vash’s wrist. You wanted him to give it to you, you wanted him to draw it out. But he promised, he promised. It wasn’t over with this. You let yourself tip over the edge, making a mess of yourself. 
Vash happily licked his fingers clean, holding you up while Wolfwood gave you soft kisses. They let you come down and find your footing again before they stepped away, both smiling wide satisfied grins. 
“What do you say, little lamb?” 
“Let’s go home, we’re not done yet.” 
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morallyinept · 2 months
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A full character analysis on MAXWELL LORD from the film WONDER WOMAN 1984
I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤
FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED
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FULL CHARACTER STUDY:
Basic Details:
Full Name: Born Maxwell Lorenzano, known as Maxwell Lord (he changed his last name to Lord when he created Black Gold Cooperative)
Nickname(s): Max
Appears in: Wonder Woman 1984, 2020 (voice heard on screen via TV screens at approx. 11:15. First appearance on screen at approx. 31:41)
Age (if known): Unconfirmed, suspected late thirties/early forties, based on appearance
Sexuality: Straight - Max was previously married and had a wife
Nationality: Not confirmed. His original surname Lorenzano is of Italian origin, however it is never confirmed in the film Maxwell's nationality. He appears to live and work in Washington DC in the United States.
Family: 1 Son, Alistair
Spouse/Partner: No mention of a current partner
Relationship Status: Divorced, he and his ex-wife share custody of Alistair
Current Living Status: Alive
Languages Spoken: English
Education: Presumed at least college educated as he started his own business
Occupation:
Job Role/Title: Owner/Director of Black Gold Cooperative, a failing oil company
Special Skill(s): Granting wishes
Notable Colleague(s): Barbara Minerva, Diana Prince (Wonder Woman)
Distinguishing Features:
Tattoo(s): None
Piercings: None
Scar(s): None notable
Other Markings: None notable
Prominent Feature(s): Clean shaven face
Injuries: Maxwell is drained each time he grants wishes becoming weaker. His eyes become bloodshot in the scleras and he suffers intolerable headaches and nosebleeds
Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Caramel/honey blonde
Personality:
Traits: Unlucky, persuasive, misguided
The film is primarily set in Washington DC, where Max's Black Gold Cooperative Offices are.
Max Lord is famous for being an extremely charming, charismatic, and powerful individual as well as a motivational-esque speaker with addition to being highly manipulative and cunning in order to obtain what he seeks, using his vast influence over people to get them them believing him and his words.
Max's original surname is Lorenzano which is Italian, however his nationality is not confirmed in the film.
Max comes from a poverty stricken family background with a violently abusive father. Max has a son of his own, Alistair, whom he seemingly pushes aside for the Dream stone and it's power, fearing that Alistair will see him as a loser father figure without it, only to realise in the end that his son loves him regardless of how successful he is, and he should be a better father to Alistair rather than seek success and fortune.
Max feigned interest in Dr Minerva to gain control of the Dream stone by tricking her into giving it to him under the guise that he could "help her in her research.” Max then wishes to become the embodiment of the stone itself, granting him its wish-granting powers, but at the price of draining his lifeforce with every wish he grants.
Due to it being the 1980's, the fashion back then for men's suits were larger padded shoulders in the suit jackets, of which is evident in Max's suits.
Fashion/Outfits:
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Outfit 1 - (Opening scene on TV commercial) Light grey/cream suit suit, white shirt with red stripes, red, black and grey tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief (On the boat in the commercial Max wears a open collared white and blue striped shirt)
Outfit 2 - (Meeting Dr Minerva scene) Blue pin striped two-piece suit, white/pink striped shirt, silk tie and matching breast pocket handkerchief, gold tie clip
Outfit 3 - (Museum benefit party scene) Black tuxedo, white shirt, dark gold bowtie and matching breast pocket handkerchief, black dress shoes
Outfit 4 - (Simon apology scene) Blue three piece suit including waistcoat, white pinstriped shirt, yellow patterned tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief, black shoes
Outfit 4 - (In Egypt scene) Cream plaid patterned two piece suit, white shirt red patterned tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief, dark shoes, sunglasses
Outfit 5 - (In office capturing wishes scene and remaining film scenes) Grey three piece striped suit, including waist coat (which he is later seen not wearing with the suit), white shirt, navy pattered tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief, black shoes, blue patterned braces
Accessories: Gold Rolex watch, gold ring on left pinky finger, sunglasses when in Egypt
Weapons Used:
Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)
Maxwell's main weapon is the Dream Stone, which he becomes himself. Through the power of wishes he is able to garner strength, more fortune and becomes almost invincible.
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Modes of Transport:
Vehicle(s):
Maxwell's personal chauffeur driven car appears to be Lincoln Town car
Dialogue:
🗨 See Maxwell's full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.
Further Character Links (if any):
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Wonder Woman 1984 Behind The Scenes, Meet Maxwell Lord, Max Lord DC Wiki Page
Info on ring & watch via Styleofpascal IG
FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED
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