Well, Hello there! Long time no see I know! But my New Year's Resolution is to rectify that and I can promise you a Poison chapter this weekend. What is this, you may wonder? Today is Twilover76's Birthday and a few weeks ago she told me she'd like a fantasy football fic. I had an idea on that for awhile so it wasn't too hard to get it down on paper. Those of you that don't like football probably won't care for this, so consider it fair warning. It's loaded with football talk :) Happy birthday, Heather! I hope you like it!

Living the Fantasy

"That's it, that's it! Go you son of a bitch, go!"


Shit. Caught again. I looked up from where I'd been watching highlights on my phone into the sour face of my very pissed off girlfriend, Jane.

"Sorry, honey, but it's almost time for the fantasy playoffs and I needed that touchdown from Peterson to clinch a bye and…" I trailed off when her face pinched up even more and her blue eyes burned into me. Perhaps now wasn't the time to rant about the fact that the Vikings had misused AP horribly this year and cost me first place because they insisted on throwing the ball with their shitty quarterbacks instead of letting the best player in the league carry the load.

"Hello, earth to Edward." She snapped her fingers in front of my face and I had to fight the urge to slap her hand away. Who did that? "I'll never understand why you're so wrapped up in some fake sports league when you should be focusing on me. Isn't this reality way better than your stupid fantasy stuff?"

I glanced around at the opulent country club she dragged me to every Sunday, insisting that we brunch with her family and then golf with her father instead of plant my ass on the couch and watch the only sport I truly loved. I'd done this bullshit all season long and as my fantasy app updated showing that I had edged out Calvin's Big Johnson for the win, I knew the answer to her question.

"No, it's not." Her lips dropped open and she gaped at me as if I'd just punched her in her judgmental face. "See you around, Jane, it's been real. Mind-numbingly real and boring. I'll just go back to my fantasy world now." And I turned and walked away.


"Priceless!" Emmett hooted with glee as I recounted the story for him and Jasper the following Sunday. Yes, I was planted on J's couch with a beer in my hand and The Red Zone queued up on the TV. Greatest channel ever invented, no lie. A fantasy geek's dream come true. I got to see every touchdown seconds after they happened and keep up with what all my players were doing.

"Seriously, it was about time you got rid of that wet blanket." J looked up from the laptop where he was locking in his lineup.

I shrugged. What could I say, they were right. Jane was hot but she was bitchy, rich, entitled, and more than a little snotty.

"I work for her father. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Ha! The time to schmooze the boss is after football season. Everyone knows that," Em informed me around a mouthful of Doritos. "Man, I'm starving. When is the pizza getting here?"

"Like you know about having a boss, dickhead." Emmett worked as a mechanic with his girlfriend Rose in their garage.

"Thirty minutes. And are you kidding? Rose has his dick in a vice."

That was actually true. Emmett nodded happily as he munched his chips.

"She does, but when she gets it in the vice she uses her tongue to drive me wild." He wiggled his eyebrows and dodged the pillow I hurled at him. The last thing I needed to hear about right now was his and Rose's sex life, not when I wasn't getting any. I hadn't been for weeks, actually. I was the one with his dick in the vice and no tongue action to make it better.

"Fuck you, Em. Let's talk about the playoffs instead." J and Em groaned and I grinned at their lack of enthusiasm. "Hey, you two still have a chance to win the consolation bracket. Best of the worst isn't that bad."

"Dick. Don't you ever get tired of winning?" Emmett scowled at me.

"Why would I? Everyone wants to win." Especially me. League champ three years in a row and running.

"Don't count your trophies before they're awarded, Ed," J told me with a grin. "Looks like you've got some real competition this year."

Just that reminder of that had my grin melting away. It was the first time I was going into the playoffs in second place and I didn't like it, but I was going to win when it mattered in a couple weeks.

"Who is that mother fucker you brought into the league anyway? Matthew Berry?" We had a twelve man league but this year Mike's wife was pregnant and scary and she'd made him back out. We'd all given him shit about it but there was no swaying him. J was our commissioner and he'd found someone at work to step in. At least he claimed they were from work. It probably was Matthew Berry, just waiting to dethrone me.

I mean really, the prick had taken Peyton Manning in the first round with the first pick. Who does that? I'd laughed when I saw the selection during our draft. Don't get me wrong, Manning's a stud and all, but first overall? I had him last year and he'd been serviceable, getting 20 to 30 points per game. Solid but nothing flashy. Who knew that he'd go off like a rocket this year, looking to break every record known to man? I knew the Broncos would be awesome and I had Thomas and Welker locked in as my starting WR's every week, but damn. Manning was out of control and making my second round steal of Brees look pathetic.

"Are you saying you couldn't beat Matthew Berry? Pretty sad, man."

I could. I totally could. His sleepers hadn't impressed me. Hadn't I been the one to pick up Cordarelle Patterson in the last round? He worked his way off my bench and into the flex position in recent weeks, despite the Vikings picking guys out of the stands to play quarterback. Isaiah Pead was a no-show at running back in St. Louis, but Zach Stacy was rocking, thank you very much. Damn right I could beat Matthew Berry. And I would in two weeks.

"Seriously, you have to introduce me to this asshole. Do you think he can come out of momma's basement to hang with us next weekend?" He clearly had no life. Only a true nerd could have foreseen that Jennings would unseat McFadden in Oakland. That had been another pick that I'd laughed at. The laugh was on me, clearly.

J chuckled. "I'm inviting the whole league over for the last game of the season. You can meet your adversary face to face in two weeks."

Good. Team Swan Song would go down live and in person. Hopefully I wouldn't make him cry as Team VD: Burnin' Like Vernon was officially crowned champion. There was no place for tears in fantasy football, not even from some momma's boy who might not be able to shave yet. I had no problem spanking an unruly child that thought he could take my title. My name would be etched on the championship trophy yet again.


"What up, bitches!" Emmett came into the room with a keg in tow. "The party can officially get started, I'm here!"

Of course he was relaxed and ready to have a good time. His team had gone down to J's and he had nothing on the line. It was me and Swan's Song vying for the title, as predicted, and Peyton Goddamn Manning was poised to break the all time touchdown and passing records this week. No way he wasn't going to put up numbers. Drew Brees better kick Tampa's ass up and down the field, not that it was hard to beat them but he was playing like shit on the road. I needed some points from his ass since I'd had to bench Peterson. Stacy and Lacy were carrying the load for me at running back. Thank God Rodgers was back in Green Bay. They might score now, but of course, was he just going to throw or would he feed the back I needed so I could retain my championship? So many questions.

And just where was my opponent anyway? Everyone in town was here. James and Ben were talking trash, as they were going head to head for third place. Tyler and Eric had crapped out like Emmett. Jake and Sam as well, but they were all here, lining up to get some beer and criticizing their shit teams, like that was hard to do.

"It's not my fault RG3 sucked this year. Shanahan broke him. I hope they fire that prick," Emmett told Jake. Yeah, like taking a flyer on a player who blew out his knee and wasn't named Adrian Peterson wasn't a stupid move? Though I agreed on Shanny, he had to go. I'd ridden RG3 to my championship last year and was pissed that he'd fucked up that knee in a game he'd had no business playing in.

"How am I supposed to win without Romo?" Ben moaned as James held his hands over his head in triumph.

"Isn't that the opposite of what Dallas fans usually say every December? Team Fire Crotch for the win!" James did a victory dance around Ben as he signaled his touchdown.

"Hey, Dalton may throw five picks today, you don't know."

"Keep hoping, Benjy. The Ravens D can't save you now."

I tuned it all out and studied the projections again on my app. Of course that shit was all wrong as usual. Peterson wasn't going to get 24 points on my bench. Those assholes wouldn't use him. Patterson was in, though. Never knew when he might break a big TD on a kick return. I was gambling a bit but it had to be done. TY Hilton had been fairly useless most of the year. Fucking Luck. Who were those receivers he was throwing to anyway?

J sat next to me and laughed as he saw me switch out my kicker for the fourth time.

"Haven't you tinkered enough?"

"Never. Where's the asshole I'm about to crush?"

J shook his head. "Getting a ride with Alice. They'll be here any moment."

I raised a brow at the mention of J's girlfriend. "What's she coming for?" Ali was cool but she wasn't into football, especially fantasy football. She tolerated his obsession but that didn't mean she wanted to be around on Sundays.

"Moral support, I guess. They're friends."

"She's friends with the enemy?" I have to admit, I was a bit wounded. Ali and I had been friends even before she and J hooked up in high school. She should be rooting for me.

"Yeah well…" the room fell silent all of a sudden and Jasper chuckled. "You'll see."

I looked up to see what had everybody so quiet and that's when I saw her. Long, wavy brown hair, big brown eyes, a cute button nose, a bright, confident smile and a killer body that was poured into tight jeans and a form fitting Peyton Manning Broncos jersey.

"No fucking way," I murmured as Jasper snickered next to me.

"Oh yeah."

He stood and gave Ali a quick kiss before slipping an arm around the beautiful girl's shoulders.

"Everyone, this is Bella Swan, known to you as Team Swan Song. Bella, this is the gang." I sat there, staring, as she was introduced to everyone in the room. All of the fuckers, even Emmett, were drooling and dazed at the sight of her. Was I? Shit. It didn't matter how hot she was. She was going down. Although now images of a fat nerd who lived with his mother were replaced by an epically hot woman and instead of crying she was opening those perfect pink lips to…

"And this is Edward, your competition today. Edward, this is Bella."

She was even more beautiful up close. She smiled and held out a hand so of course I took it.

"It's nice to meet you." Was it just me or did she have a voice straight out of a porno? A glance around the room showed that it wasn't just me. They were all still drooling messes except for J of course. He worked with this gorgeous girl. How he got shit done was beyond me.

"So, why don't you tell Bella what you're going to do to her?" J asked with a huge grin. Asshole. I had plenty of things that I wanted to do to her, none of which had anything to do with winning fantasy football.

"Yeah, Edward, what are you going to do to me?" Fuckkkkkkk. Those words in that voice and we had lift off. I shifted and hoped to God she didn't notice as she moved to sit down beside me. I grabbed the stupid throw pillow that Alice had bought for Jasper and put it in my lap to cover up my obvious interest in this woman. Seriously, where had J been hiding her? He should have told me he worked with a goddess, it was only right. Bro code and all that shit.

I realized that all eyes were on me, including pretty, inquiring brown ones and figured I'd better answer.

"I'm gonna beat you."

Her eyes widened and she let out a cute, little laugh.

"I mean, you know, in fantasy. Not in my fantasies. I don't beat girls. I mean, women. I mean, you," I hurried to add.

She giggled and leaned toward me and damn she smelled sinful. I wasn't sure what that perfume was but I wanted to lick her and see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

"Maybe I'd like that."

What? "What?" I choked, gripping the pillow to me tighter as images that I didn't need assaulted my brain.

"I said, I'd like to see that," she clarified, looking at me with twinkling eyes. Holy shit, had I heard her wrong? Was my perverted brain making up shit? The image of her pert, sexy ass with a red handprint, my red handprint, faded as I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"You're going to need to perform your best to take me." Oh, I'd perform alright. She'd have no complaints when I pushed her against the wall and took her.

"Do you think your team is up to the challenge?" Damn it. She wasn't talking about me. I kept forgetting that.

"Of course. Locked and loaded." Just like my cock right now.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I guess we're about to see." Yes, we were. Kickoff had started on the early games, not that we'd know until later tonight who the winner was. She had McCoy and Murray in the late game. It was maddening.

"How'd you get Ben to trade you McCoy anyway?" I'd rejected that damn trade but apparently nobody else in the league thought it was unfair. Yeah, Gronk played well for a few games but anybody with a brain knew he'd get injured again. Then again, Ben was brainless, but the rest of these losers should have seen what I did.

"Gronk for McCoy was a fair trade," she said, all innocent smiles and shining eyes.

"For about two weeks," I pointed out, not bothering to hide my irritation.

"Which was when we made the trade." She shot Ben a smile that had him turning red and jizzing himself. Okay, maybe he only blushed but still, he may have shot a load. I would have at that look.

"We had lunch and agreed the trade would be mutually beneficial." No wonder the fucker made the trade. I was burning with envy that he'd gotten to be alone with her and pissed off that he'd let her take advantage of her hotness to get him to approve of that trade.

"I just bet you did." She only smiled at the sarcasm in my tone.

"Oh look, Garcon with a TD already!" Fucker. The Redskins were useless this year but of course she had the only one that performed worth a damn. RG3 and Cousins both favored the hell out of that guy. Fucking Dan Snyder. This was all his fault. Him and whoever helped her build a fantasy juggernaut. Maybe she was fucking Matthew Berry.

"Who picked your team for you?" I blurted, causing all conversation in the room to cease.

"Excuse me?" The frost in her voice could have frozen J's hot tub.

Shit. "I mean, how could you possibly have known Manning would go off like he did? I know how you wrangled McCoy from Captain Virgin over there, but come on. Nobody picks Manning with the number one overall." Maybe she was related to him. Manning's Mom probably picked him first. Hopefully she didn't waste a late rounder on her other son, though. Talk about a waste of a pick, which was something Eli knew all about this year.

"Anybody who saw that Ravens game last year would know that Manning was going to kill it his year." Her tone was all ice and somehow it was still hot as hell. "He was pissed at that defense and knew he'd need to outscore all their opponents this year because that D wouldn't be any help. Nice pick there, by the way." Fuck. I winced at the memory of my late rounder on the Denver D. Now I was rocking with the Saints which wasn't much better. Fucking defenses.

"For the record, nobody but me handles my team." I wanted her to handle me. Somehow she was more beautiful when she was angry. It might help that her chest stuck out a little more because she took deeper breaths. She had a killer rack. I was dying to find out if it was real or not. I had a feeling she'd punch me in the face if I tried now, though. Time to backtrack.

"Who taught you about football?" I wanted to know more about this woman, this beautiful, feisty woman who knew nearly as much about football as I did, if she could be believed about choosing her own team.

"Because I couldn't have learned such a hard game on my own?" She batted her eyes at me before scowling. I fucked up again. "I played Pee Wee for a few years and got addicted. I watched every weekend while my Dad worked."

She turned back to the TV and nudged me when they showed highlights of Patterson's long catch and run. "Nice. Did you see how juked Jenkins right out of his shoes? Made him look like a little bitch."

Holy fuck. That was the hottest thing a woman had ever uttered to me in my life.

"Eddie's in looooove," Emmett shouted, sending the whole room into laughter. Bella giggled quietly next to me.

"Can't say I blame him. Marry me, beautiful," Tyler begged, dropping to his knees in front of Bella. I thought about kicking him in the teeth.

"Sorry, I can't marry anyone who was in the consolation bracket," she told him, laughing as he clutched his heart.

"I'm wounded. Damn, you're cold, woman. You and I both know that Cam Newton was out to sabotage me this year."

She shook her head. "Everybody knows Newton is a slow starter. You should have played your back up for the first few weeks and then put him in when he got hot."

Christ. I needed to marry this woman. And I couldn't because she was pissed at me for questioning her fantasy prowess. Tyler got up and staggered over to the keg, whining about Cam Newton being a cockblocker. I'd show him a damn cockblocker.

"I'm sorry." She just stared at me so I went on. "I'm not usually such a…"

"Sexist douchebag who doesn't think women know football?"

Crap. "Well, yes. I mean no. I mean, it's just that you're so pretty."

She glared at me. Fuck.

"So pretty women can't know football?"

"No, I mean yes, I mean…"

"Edward makes bad choices," Emmett supplied helpfully. Then he regaled the whole room with stories of Jane and the country club every weekend.

"You let a girl take you away from football?" The disbelief in Bella's voice had me hunching my shoulders as I nodded. "Damn, I hope the sex was worth it."

My head shot up as Emmett guffawed loudly. "What sex? That chick was locked tighter than my mom's liquor cabinet when I was in high school."

"Em, shut the fuck up," I yelled, causing Bella to jump a little next to me and her terrific tits to bounce a little. I really, really needed to get laid.

"Well, it's true. Nobody can blame you for walking away." And then he was off, telling them about the last time I saw Jane. I saw Bella chuckling out of the corner of my eye and relaxed a little. Really, could she think any worse of me than she already did?

"Sounds like you finally got your priorities straight," she told me quietly after everybody had had a good laugh at my expense.

I met her pretty eyes. "Yeah, it seems that I did." This sucked. I was usually good with girls but this one intimidated the shit out of me. "What about you? Do you spend your weekends with anyone?" Real fucking smooth, Edward.

She laughed lightly and shook her head. "No. Honestly I kind of prefer to watch alone so I can concentrate and see everything. I only came today because I wanted to see the people I'd been playing against, get to know everybody so I know who I'm beating next year."

I scoffed at her confidence. "What makes you think you're coming back?" Jess wouldn't be pregnant and Mike would return and I'd be unchallenged, the way it should be. Why didn't that make me feel awesome like it usually did?

"According to Jasper, Mike's out for good. Weekends are for family." She rolled her eyes at that crap and I wanted her a little bit more, if that was even possible. "I'm back, unless the group objects."

Considering that everyone in the group wanted to bone her, even the guys with wives and girlfriends, I didn't think she'd have a problem getting a majority vote. Even I kind of wanted her back.

"I suppose I could use more of a challenge."

She laughed. "My name's going to look really nice on that trophy and I have just the place for it on my mantle."

My heart clenched a little at the thought of not returning home with MY trophy. But I had to admit the idea of her name being with mine held some appeal.

"You haven't won yet, honey."

"But I will, baby." She purred the word and I didn't even hide my groan.

Fuck it. Might as well make it more interesting. "Want to bet?"

Her eyes sparkled with mirth. "The trophy and bragging rights aren't enough for you? What do you have in mind?"

Many things, all of which involved her being naked, or maybe just wearing her jersey. It was hot as hell.

"The loser has to take the winner to dinner?" Please say yes. I needed to get to know more about her.

She laughed and shook her head, cracking my heart in two. "Sounds an awful like you want to go out with me but don't have the balls to ask."

Before I could refute that, she stood and I got a view of her fantastic ass. My hands actually twitched with the need to cup those perfect cheeks and pull her onto my lap where I wanted her. Instead, I grabbed her hand and stilled her before she could walk away. She eyed me, cocking a hip and an eyebrow.


"And if I did have the balls?"

She smiled slowly, licking her lips as she leaned toward me, giving me a great view of her rack.

"I'd nail them to the mantle next to my championship trophy, of course."

Burned. Hard. But I wasn't giving up.

"That wouldn't be so bad if you kept the rest of me around, too."

She laughed and tossed back her hair, in that way girls did that was awesome and annoying at the same time.

"You'll lose a lot more than a game if you come after me," she teased, with a glint in her eye.

"It'd be worth it." I was halfway lost to her already.

"Yeah, it would."

She walked away and I watched her instead of the games for the rest of the day as she chatted, laughed, drank and flirted with everyone in the room but me. I stopped caring about winning somewhere about halfway through Manning's record breaking game. Brees did kick Tampa's ass but it didn't matter because the rest of my team decided to fuck me, only the Broncos showing up and getting me some points which only taunted me all the more as I eyed Bella in that sexy little jersey.

Guys started leaving by the end of the second round of games, nobody really expecting Dallas/Philly to be any good without Romo. By halftime, I was officially cooked, because McCoy decided he needed to run his ass off for some fucking reason. Where was that last year when he took like the whole year off for a concussion and I had to drop his sorry ass? Prick.

"Looks like it's official! The winner of this year's trophy is Bella."

J handed her MY trophy and she held it aloft as Emmett, Tyler, Alice and Ben cheered. I lifted my beer in her honor and got a smile in return. I pushed myself of the couch and went to grab my jacket out of J's closet. Before I could step out, I was shoved from behind and the door closed. Great. Now I was getting hazed for being a loser. This day officially fucking sucked. I lost the trophy and a shot at Bella. They couldn't fuck me over any harder than I already had been.

"To the victor goes the spoils."

Before I could comprehend what was happening, hot lips were on mine and that rack I'd been fantasizing about was pressed against my chest. I found her ass and got two perfect handfuls. Thank fuck. I didn't know if I could live without touching her at least once. Kissing her was better than anything on earth, except for maybe fucking her, which I hoped to do really soon.

Long before I was ready to stop, Bella pulled back and took her lips from mine. "Friday, seven o'clock. Loser, that would be YOU, buys."

She slipped a piece of paper in my hand and was out of the closet before I could grab her and kiss her again. It didn't matter, though. Friday night I'd be the most gracious loser she'd ever met. I'd never been so happy to lose in my entire life.

I glanced at the paper as I stepped back out into the hallway. It had her address and said: Let's see if we can make reality better than fantasy. Maybe we'll both win. I had no doubt that we would.