#I went to the first one and it was life-changing for me

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Older"

ok yall! i couldn't stop thinking of neglected Reader falling for Clark Kent, so instead of writing a new chapter of "I bet on losing dogs" I wrote an AU!!! Batfam's neglect stays till reader is 18, Tiffany isn't exposed till later. I got kinda carried away tbh! Remember, THIS IS AN AU!!!! Ya'll aren't ready for this plot actually. Or who really steals readers heart. Thank you to the wonderful anon who sent me down the rabit hole of this man. Reader is 18 when the romance actually starts.

When you were younger, you had always idolized Superman. Clark Kent, the unassuming, nerdy reporter with glasses, was a far cry from the intimidating presence he became when he donned the cape. You first saw him when you were 9, during a charity event your father had taken you to. At first, you thought he was just another well-dressed man who smiled too much. But then, when he lifted a car to save someone from an accident, you felt something shift in your chest.

That’s it, you thought. That’s what I want. I want him.

From that day on, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he saved people with a smile, how gentle his voice was. You’d daydream about being near him, holding his hand, his deep blue eyes looking down at you with affection. But Clark never saw you that way. To him, you were always just Bruce Wayne’s little girl—the kid he barely knew.

Maybe it was a result of being neglected by every man in your life that made you so feral for Clark Kent. Maybe it was the fact that he was the only person you knew who didn't prefer Tiffany to you. Whatever it was, it didn't matter, he'd never feel the same.

So, you pushed your feelings aside.

Or at least you tried to.

You’d flirted with boys before. You’d flirted with grown men. With your powers, you needed an outlet, a way to let go of your frustrations, to feel good. You lost your virginity only days after gaining your powers. It felt amazing, during those moments you were in control of your body, the pain went away, the neglect went away and you were loved.

But nothing had ever been like the times you found yourself in Clark’s presence. At 16, you’d started testing the waters, teasing him with subtle remarks. You’d gotten a little bolder in your attempts over the years, but he always brushed them off as playful jokes.

"Don’t you think you’re a little young for me, kiddo?" he’d chuckle every time you got close.

You hated that. He saw you as a kid. That was it.

But you didn’t stop. Because you were determined.

And by the time you turned 18, the world around you had shifted. You had grown into someone new, more mature, more confident. Your body had changed. Your personality had changed. But Clark... he still looked at you like you were that little girl from all those years ago.

It hurt. But you told yourself, Just be patient. It’ll come around. I just need more time.

You soon realized time was too long. Clark would never see you as anything more than a kid, he literally had children your age. He was old enough to be your father. His youngest son had a crush on you and Clark is a good man. He would never consider you romantically.

You couldn't keep chasing after another unrequited love. Not after years of chasing your family's. Not after years of being pushed aside for an imposter who always outsmarted your attempts to expose her.

You wanted to move on. To leave everyone behind.

And that's what you did. There was no dramatic breaking point, no emotional stand-off. You were looking out your window one day and you realized you've done nothing. You've never been happy, never once truly happy, you lived for everyone but yourself. Not anymore. One random sunny Tuesday, the summer after you graduated highschool, you packed up and left everything behind, no goodbyes. Not even a note for Alfred. None of them deserved it.

You were tired, tired of chasing people.

You wanted to be chased and that's what you got. Every week it was someone new, your professor, your friends, your boss, anyone who was attracted to you, you slept with. It was so freeing. It was euphoric, making them fall in love, leading them into your bed, then kicking them out as soon as the next one came along.

The only thing that you truly loved now was music, it was all that got you through years and years of mistreatment. No matter what happened in the manor, you could turn your headphones on and forget. You could grab your guitar and strum your worries away.

College sucked. Long ago, you would've pushed yourself to go, even though you hated it, just to make your family proud. To chase approval you would never get. Not anymore, you knew you needed a degree to make a living, but a gap year never hurt anyone.

You began working as a singer in different bars. It let you write songs and make money. There was nothing more addicting than feeling eyes on you, enchanted by you. Your voice was magnetic, drawing people in, and like any good predator, you feasted on their hearts and left as soon as they stopped inspiring you. Yet, no matter how good-looking or good in bed they were, they would never be Clark.

One night, after a few months of your reckless, self-destructive pattern, you found yourself in a dimly lit bar on the outskirts of Gotham, a place where nobody would recognize you. You weren't gonna sing, not tonight.

You weren’t here to find love, you weren’t here to talk or connect. You were here to forget.

The clink of glasses and low murmur of conversation surrounded you, but it was the figure in the corner that caught your attention.

A man with a commanding presence sat alone at the bar, his back straight, eyes locked on the dim-lit television above the counter. His hair was peppered with gray, but there was something ageless about the way he carried himself; tough, confident, dangerous. The eyepatch over his right eye only enhanced the mystery, adding a cruel allure to his already intimidating presence.

You couldn’t quite place why you were drawn to him, but the moment you saw him, a spark ignited. Slade Wilson. He worked with Bruce somehow one time, everyone hated him, even Clark. You remembered him because he was the only man, other than Clark, not to fall for Tiffany's charm and that was a win in your book.

You’d heard of him in passing, mostly in rumors—whispers of a deadly mercenary, a ghost in the shadows of Gotham, a man you wouldn’t want to cross. But here he was, sitting like a predator in a place filled with prey.

You weren’t afraid. You never were. You’d been raised in the shadows of Gotham, after all, with men who didn’t even know how to love you. You’d seen dangerous men before. You knew how to handle yourself.

You sauntered over, taking a seat next to him, your movements casual but purposeful. He glanced at you briefly, his lips twitching into the slightest of smirks before his eyes returned to the screen.

"Mind if I join you?" you asked, leaning into the counter, placing your drink beside his.

His gaze flicked toward you again, this time a little longer. There was something predatory in the way he sized you up, assessing your every move. "Not at all."

You smirked, tilting your head slightly. "I’ve been told I’m a good time."

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, but it was cold, calculated. "That so?"

You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped briefly to your lips, but he didn’t let his attention linger for long. He took a long sip of his drink and leaned back, unbothered, as though you were nothing more than another fleeting distraction.

You were used to this, the indifferent types. But you weren’t going to let him slip away that easily.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who spends his nights in places like this,” you said, turning towards him with a sly grin. “I imagine you’ve got better places to be.”

Slade didn’t look at you when he responded, his voice low and smooth, like gravel being ground underfoot. “I’m where I want to be.”

You laughed, the sound rich and teasing. "So, what does someone like you do for fun, then?"

For a moment, the silence stretched between you, and then he finally turned to meet your eyes, the weight of his gaze making your stomach flutter for reasons you couldn’t explain. "Fun... isn’t what I’m here for."

You let out a slow breath, leaning in a little closer, just enough for the scent of his cologne to hit you, something spicy, with a touch of danger.

"Then what are you here for?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You could see the muscles in his jaw tense slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he met your gaze head-on, his lips curling up ever so slightly at the corners.

"Business."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Business, huh? I love business."

“I'm sure you do” he said cryptically, but his voice was thick with unspoken meaning.

The tension between you was palpable, electric. You couldn’t deny the pull you felt toward him. It wasn’t just his looks, though they were undeniably attractive in their own gritty, dangerous way. No, it was the way he carried himself, like he was someone who could destroy everything in his path if he wanted.

You weren’t intimidated, though. If anything, it intrigued you more.

You leaned closer, the warmth of your body pressing against his, your breath hot against his ear. “So, what do you do when business is done?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just stared at you, his eyes hard and calculating. And then, before you could react, his lips brushed against your ear, his voice low and dangerous. "You don’t want to know."

You shivered at his words, at the heat of his breath, but you were beyond caring. You were tired of being the one who was always desired but never loved, the one who always chased but was never caught. Tonight, you wanted to be wanted, and you wanted him to want you more than anything.

"Maybe I wanna find out" you breathed, your hand sliding down his arm.

His hand shot out like lightning, grabbing your wrist before you could make contact. His grip was firm, but not painful—just a reminder of his control, of how easily he could break you if he wanted.

“Not tonight,” he murmured, voice rough. "Not the way you think."

You stared at him, uncertainty flickering in your gaze for the briefest of moments. You had gotten used to men not wanting you the way you wanted them, it was all you knew growing up. But now things were different with your abilities. This wasn’t the first time someone had pulled away, but with him, it felt different, like he was holding back, just as much as you were.

You smirked. "What makes you think you can stop me?"

His lips curled again, this time with something darker in his eyes. "Because I’m the one who calls the shots."

A challenge. A warning. And for some reason, that only made you want him more.

Before you could react, he stood up, his hand lingering on your wrist for just a beat longer. "If you’re serious about this, I’ll be at the back exit in thirty minutes."

Then, without waiting for a response, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the bar.

You sat there for a moment, staring after him, the heat of the moment hanging in the air between you.

You weren’t sure whether to follow or not, but you knew one thing for certain: tonight was going to be a night you wouldn’t forget.

And so, you found yourself standing outside in the cool night air, your heart racing. You hadn't planned for this, but somehow it felt inevitable.

When you saw him again, waiting by the dark alley, it was clear this was a man who didn’t let anything slip through his fingers. And tonight, you weren’t going to let him slip away either. You approached him, your steps measured and confident.

He didn't speak immediately, just gave you a slow, knowing smile as you came closer.

This wasn’t the start of a love story. This wasn’t about feelings or connections. This was something darker, something more primal.

This was a game. And you weren’t sure if you were the predator... or the prey.

But you were ready to find out.

The cool Gotham air settled in your lungs as you closed the distance between yourself and Slade, your heels clicking softly on the pavement.

He stood by the alley entrance, leaning casually against the brick wall, his figure lit only by the faint streetlight behind him. The shadows clung to him like a second skin, making his presence feel like an almost dangerous secret—something you weren’t sure you were ready to unravel, but damn, you were more than willing to try.

Slade didn’t say a word as you approached, his one visible eye catching yours with that piercing, unreadable stare of his. You knew that look. It was the same kind of look your father gave you when he had to make tough decisions, when he saw things for what they truly were. Cold, calculating. But this? This felt different. This felt like a challenge. And you were more than ready for it.

“Still think you can handle me?” His voice was low, but it had that same teasing bite, as if he were daring you to prove him wrong.

You were close now—too close for comfort, but you didn’t care. You stepped into his space, the heat of his body now radiating against yours, his scent filling your senses. “I don’t need to handle you,” you murmured, your lips barely brushing his ear as you leaned in. “I think you need to handle me.”

There was a flicker in his gaze, something almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make your pulse quicken. He didn’t move away, didn’t flinch like others would have. If anything, the air around you both seemed to crackle with intensity.

“Is that what you think this is about?” Slade asked, his voice rougher now, as though the control he so carefully maintained was slipping just a little. “You’re not the first woman who’s come to me thinking they can make me want them.”

You were sure he was referring to Tiffany, there was no way a man like him ever forgot a name or face. Knowing he knew who you were and knowing he didn't care made you want him more.

You smiled, feeling that familiar rush of excitement surge through your veins. It wasn’t about making him want you. It was about making him need you.

“Maybe,” you said, leaning even closer, your lips almost touching his. “But I’m the first one who might actually make you lose control.”

For a heartbeat, you could have sworn the world around you stopped. Slade’s eye darkened, the intensity in his stare shifting from challenge to something sharper. More dangerous. But there was something else in his eyes now. Something that made your heart race faster than you cared to admit.

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a force that had your breath hitching in your throat. The familiar spark of danger lit up your skin, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let your body melt into his, feeling the pulse of raw, untamed power that radiated off him.

“You think you can push me?” he growled, his voice like gravel, each word like a warning and a promise all at once.

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you let your fingers trail across his chest, feeling the ridged muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. Your touch was deliberate, slow, each movement a calculated game of power.

“Maybe I want to push you,” you said softly, your breath a whisper against his neck, “until I break you.”

The grip on your wrist tightened for a split second, his muscles flexing with controlled restraint. For a moment, you wondered if this was where it would end, that he’d push you away, tell you it was all just a game. But when he finally spoke again, his voice was thick with tension.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Slade murmured, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for.”

You let out a breathy laugh, your body pressing even closer to his as your lips hovered dangerously close to his own. “Maybe I don’t,” you whispered. “But I’m willing to find out.”

Slade didn’t move for a long moment, just holding you there in that thin space between danger and desire. And then, finally, he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with the force of someone who had been holding back far too long.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was a brutal, desperate collision of mouths, a clash of power and need. You could feel the tension in every muscle of his body as he claimed your mouth, his hands gripping your arms, his touch insistent and almost hungry. But you didn’t break, didn’t pull away. Instead, you kissed him back just as fiercely, hands roaming up his chest to grasp the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer.

For a second, you wondered if this would be the point where you lost yourself to the heat of the moment, but the longer you kissed him, the clearer it became that this wasn’t just about passion. It was about control. About testing boundaries.

And you were willing to play that game, because you were ready to win.

As the kiss deepened, Slade pulled away suddenly, his breath ragged, eyes darker now with desire and frustration. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to someone who didn’t give in.

“Not so easy, is it?” you whispered, your voice rough from the kiss, your body still pressed against his.

He glared at you for a moment, lips curling into a knowing smirk, the kind of smirk that made you feel like you were dancing on the edge of a knife.

“You’re not the first one to test me, Slade said, voice low and dangerous, his hands sliding down your arms with intent. “But you might be the first one who wants to."

Slade didn’t pull back, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm, but his gaze never left yours. His hand, still gripping your wrist, was no longer a force of restraint; it was an anchor, a silent promise of just how far this could go.

The weight of his stare sent a shiver down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was from anticipation or something deeper, something darker that he carried with him, but you felt it in every inch of your body. You weren’t here for games anymore, you were here because you wanted this. You wanted him.

But there was more to it. Something about the way he held you in his gaze told you that, for once, you weren’t in control. Slade Wilson was a man who played by his own rules. And now, you were learning the cost of trying to break them.

He released your wrist with slow precision, letting his fingers linger over your skin for just a second longer than necessary. You could feel the heat of his touch as he took a step back, eyes darkening with a new kind of challenge.

“You really think you’re the one calling the shots here?” His voice was low, rough, as though it had been soaked in whiskey and smoke.

You weren’t about to back down now. You smirked, leaning into him again, almost too close for comfort. “I think I’m just... along for the ride.”

Slade’s lips twisted into something dangerous, a mix of amusement and something else, something far more raw. He took a step toward you, crowding your space, his presence suffocating in the most exhilarating way.

“Not sure you know what that ride entails,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower, sending another shiver down your spine.

“I’m starting to,” you replied, reaching for him, but this time, you didn’t touch him the way you had before. You trailed your fingers slowly, almost teasingly, down his chest, feeling the firmness of muscle beneath the fabric.

Slade didn’t stop you. His body stiffened, though. Just enough for you to feel that tight pull of control he was holding onto. It only made you want him more. You pressed a little closer, your body brushing against his in a subtle reminder that you were still in the game, too.

“I like doing things i'm not supposed to” you said, your lips grazing his ear as you spoke. “And I think you do, too.”

He stiffened at your words, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, you thought you saw something flash behind his gaze—something far more primal than the cold, calculating predator you’d come to know.

Slade’s hand shot out, gripping your chin with surprising gentleness, forcing you to look up at him. The control was unmistakable in his hold, yet his eyes… his eyes were like a storm just about to break. “Don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

“I never said I did.” Your voice was steady, confident, even though the truth was you didn’t fully know what this was. But you knew what you wanted, and right now, it was him.

He searched your face, his gaze intense, like he was deciding something. just as you thought he might break, he leaned in, closing the gap between you both.

His lips brushed against yours, barely a touch, but enough to send your pulse skyrocketing. For a moment, it was almost like a game of cat and mouse. He was holding back, just enough to make you ache for more.

His lips moved to your ear, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “You should walk away now. Because once this starts, there’s no going back.”

You leaned into him, your breath shaky, but your resolve unwavering. “I never look back. Not anymore.”

Slade didn’t hesitate. His lips crushed against yours with an urgency that felt like a storm breaking free. There was no softness. It was rough, driven by something savage, and it made you lose your breath as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

You felt his hands on you, strong and sure, pulling you into him, his grip possessive in a way that made your pulse race even faster. You let him guide you, let him take the lead—because, for the first time in so long, you didn’t need to be the one in control. You didn’t want to be.

That night, Slade Wilson made you forget about every other man in your life, even Clark Kent.

For the next three weeks, you and Slade continued game of cat and mouse. Every other day, you would go to a bar to play and he would somehow appear in the crowd, like a sailor lured by a siren.

Yet everytime, in the morning when you woke, still hot after the previous nights activities, Slade Wilson was nowhere to be found.

You knew he was too old for you, too rough and unstable, but he could be kind at times, when he wanted.

And he was fun.

And you're sure your family would have a joint aneurysum if they found out.

It was fun until one night, he didn't find you.

Two months later, nothing changed. No word from your 'family' asking where you were, only Alfred's weekly check up, and Damian's insufferable posting of him, Tiffany, and the rest the family having fun without you on Instagram. He didn't even bother to block you.

No word from Slade either, yet you still hoped he would show one night. Seems like you had a thing for men ignoring you.

But tonight, something felt electric in the air.

Slade’s shadow stretched across the dimly lit bar, his presence pulling every ounce of warmth from the room. You hadn’t seen him in two months, not since he’d walked away without a word, leaving you to pick up the pieces of everything. You’d told yourself you didn’t care, that his absence meant nothing. But seeing him again, standing there with that predatory stare of his, you couldn’t help but feel the heat rise in your chest.

You were busy, sure, singing and flirting, giving the crowd exactly what they wanted. But you couldn’t ignore the sudden heaviness in the air. The way the music seemed to fade as his eyes locked onto yours from across the room. The same gaze that had always made you feel like you were his—like he could take whatever he wanted and leave you with nothing.

You kept the smile on your face, tossing your hair over your shoulder, a flirtatious laugh escaping your lips as you tossed a wink at one of the men leaning against the bar. You could feel Slade watching you, not just with his eyes but with every inch of his body. He hadn’t come to listen to the music. He didn’t give a damn about the crowd or the drinks. He was here for you.

And he was pissed.

He approached you with slow, deliberate steps, his frame imposing, his eyes cold with that familiar edge. When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble, almost drowned out by the noise of the bar, but it cut through everything like a blade.

“Well, well, well… look at you, darlin’. Didn’t take you long to move on, huh?”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your head high. ��Didn’t realize I needed your permission, babe.”

He ignored the jab, his lips twitching in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Haven’t seen you in two months, and this is what I come back to? You’re out here playing with the other boys now?”

You didn’t flinch. “You didn’t exactly leave me with much of a choice. You were the one who disappeared, remember?”

Slade's gaze hardened, and before you knew it, he was right in front of you, close enough that his breath stirred the strands of your hair. He leaned down, his voice dropping low, rough. “You really think you can just forget about me? Move on with them? Cute little act you've got going, sweetheart, but I can see right through it.”

You pushed back, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just having fun. I’m living my life, Slade. You should try it sometime.”

His smirk curled, but there was no warmth in it. “I don’t need advice from you. And I don’t give a damn about your ‘fun.’” His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a brutal grip, pulling you closer. “Where’s your old man? Where’s your daddy been? What about your brothers? Do they even know what the hell you’ve been up to?”

The sharpness of his words cut deeper than you wanted to admit. Slade always knew how to hit you where it hurt, and he wasn’t giving you any room to breathe. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped, but the defiance didn’t reach your voice the way you wanted it to.

“Funny, that’s what I thought you’d say.” He released your wrist, but not before giving it a firm squeeze. “I already know what’s been going on with your family. They’ve been too busy holding onto their precious Tiffany, haven’t they?”

You flinched at the mention of her name. Everyone knew Tiffany was the golden child, the one your family had actually cared about. The one they’d all protected, even when she turned out to be the one using them. You’d known for a while that she was a spy, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Slade’s eyes glinted with that sharp, calculating look. “You knew what she was doing, didn’t you? All this time, she was playing them like puppets, and now they’re gonna come crawling back, pretending they care. They’ll be looking for you soon enough, you know. Guilt’s a hell of a thing.”

The words sank into you, twisting painfully. You hated how right he was. Your family had always been so focused on Tiffany that they hadn’t noticed how you were slipping through the cracks. And now, with her gone, they were going to realize their mistake. They were going to come for you, but it wouldn’t be because they cared. It would be because they felt guilty.

Slade took a step closer, his hand lightly grazing your cheek, the touch cold and commanding. “They’ll come running for you when they realize what they’ve lost, sweetheart. But don’t fool yourself. It won’t be about you. It’ll be about guilt. About making things right because they fucked up. But you know better than anyone, those kinds of people always forget when the next shiny thing comes along.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. “What do you want from me?”

His smirk widened, his fingers trailing down your jaw with a casualness that made your skin crawl in a way you couldn’t quite explain. “What do I want from you, sweetheart? Maybe just the same thing I’ve always wanted. But let’s be clear: I’m not here to save you from them. Hell, I don’t even know if you want saving.”

You glared at him, feeling the bitter edge of your own anger. “Then why the hell are you here?”

Slade's eyes softened for a brief second—just long enough to make you wonder if this was something more than just a game to him. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the moment was gone, replaced by that familiar coldness. “I’m here because you’re a hell of a lot smarter than they’ll ever give you credit for. And you’re not stupid enough to think you need them. You know they never cared, not really.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat. He was right. You did know it, deep down. You’d always known. It stung, more than you cared to admit, but you were done being angry about it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing just below your ear. “When they come, and they will come, you can show them what it feels like to be abandoned. You can make them feel just how you felt. But don’t think for a second you can do it without me.”

You didn’t respond right away, your heart pounding in your chest. He wasn’t offering you a way out, he was offering you a choice. A choice between playing the victim to your family’s guilt, or standing beside him as he carved his own path. Neither option was a clean one, but something about him made it feel like the one you’d always been meant to choose.

Slade stepped back, his eyes scanning you as if he was trying to figure you out. “You’re not like them, sweetheart. And you’re not gonna let them walk all over you. Not this time.”

You finally met his gaze, the anger and frustration swirling in your chest. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Slade grinned, that predatory, dangerous grin that made you feel like you were in over your head. “Oh, I know more than you think.”

Slade’s presence was suffocating, his shadow looming over you like something darker than the night itself. He’d always had that effect on you, but tonight, with the way he leaned in so close, his words cutting through the air like daggers, you couldn't help but feel a chill creep down your spine.

His eyes never left yours, not for a second, his smirk tightening as if he knew exactly how to push every button. "You know, sweetheart, you always think you’ve got everything figured out, don’t you?” His voice was soft, dangerous, like a whisper in a dark alley. “But you’ve been running from something for a long time. Something you can’t hide from anymore."

You felt your heart beat a little faster, but you refused to show it. You’d dealt with him long enough to know that showing weakness only made him more dangerous. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Slade’s gaze slid over you, dismissive yet calculating. “I think you know exactly what I mean. But let’s not play coy here. You used to be close with Jason. Back when he was alive, at least. You were a team, weren’t you?”

The mention of Jason made your stomach twist, but you clenched your jaw and forced your face into something resembling indifference. You refused to let Slade see you hurt. “What about it?”

“Nothing, just... funny, isn’t it?” Slade’s lips curved into a grin that made your skin crawl. “You two were close. But then, Jason died, and who was left? The family? They couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to you. They didn’t notice when Tiffany came around, and they sure as hell haven’t noticed since.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the truth hitting a little too hard. But you kept your composure, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much it stung. “What do you want, Slade?”

His eyes softened just enough to make you think for a second that he might’ve been telling the truth—only for that same grin to return, sharper than before. “What I want? You're not getting it, sweetheart. It’s not about me. It’s about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out just how much of this conversation was manipulation. And how much was something more... personal? The tension between you two was so thick, it felt like it might snap at any moment.

Slade took a step closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’ve been wasting your time, haven’t you? Hiding behind that bar, singing, flirting with men who’ll never understand you. You could do so much more than this, you know. You’ve got potential.”

He said the word like it was something sacred. A promise or a curse, you couldn’t quite decide.

You shook your head, taking a small step back. "I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me what I can and can’t do."

Slade’s eyes darkened, his smirk turning predatory. “Oh, I think you do. I think you want to know. Deep down, you’re craving someone to show you how to unlock it. Your powers. Your real potential. You want something bigger, something more than this.”

Your pulse quickened, and a sickening unease washed over you. How the hell did he know about your powers? How much did he really know? The idea that he’d been watching you from afar, or worse, had been tracking your every move, made your skin crawl.

You tried to push that thought away. “I don’t know what you think you know about me, but you’re wrong. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Slade studied you for a long moment, his gaze never faltering. He was evaluating you, and you could feel the weight of it pressing on your chest. When he spoke again, his tone was almost... too calm, too casual.

“Let’s be real here, darlin'. You do need help. You’ve got power, and I’m not talking about the small-time tricks you’ve been playing with. You could be so much more. But you're stuck. Trapped in this little life you’ve built for yourself because you’re too afraid to face what's really inside you.”

“Why are you even here?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the edge was starting to creep in. You wanted answers, and you wanted them now. “You disappeared for two months, and now you’re showing up like you know everything about me. What’s your game?”

He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his figure blocking the dim light above you. “My game? I’m not here to play games. I’m here because I’m offering you an opportunity. An opportunity to stop hiding from yourself. To work with me. To really figure out what you’re capable of. I’ve seen the way you move. The way you think. And I know you’re capable of so much more than this little bar. But you’ll need training. You’ll need guidance. My guidance.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver that ran through you. He was offering you something, something you didn’t quite understand, but the implication was clear: he wanted you to join him. To work together.

But there was something... off. The way he was talking. The way he seemed to know everything about you, the things you hadn’t told anyone, not even yourself.

“How do you know all this?” You demanded, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to sound confident. “How do you know about Jason? About Tiffany? About whats happening to me?”

Slade’s grin widened, a strange glint in his eyes as he leaned in, almost as if savoring the tension. “There's nothing I don't know. I know more than you think. But here’s the thing: you don’t need to understand everything right away. You just need to trust me. Trust that I know what you need. And trust that I can give you what you’ve been searching for. What they could never give you.”

His words were like a knife, each one digging deeper. “I’m not asking for your loyalty. Not yet. But think about it, yeah? I’m offering you something bigger than this... this place, these people. I can offer you something real. Power. Freedom.”

Your eyes were still locked with his, but your mind was racing. You couldn't stop the unease creeping through you. There was a part of you that wanted to know what he meant. Wanted to know how far your powers could go. Wanted to trust him, even though everything in your gut told you not to.

“And what about Clark?” You blurted out, unable to stop yourself. “I’m supposed to just... forget about him too? You don’t think I notice? You think I’m some naive little girl who doesn’t know what’s going on? You think I can't see you using me? Trying to groom me?”

Slade’s eyes flickered, just for a moment, before his lips curled into a snide smile. “Clark.” He scoffed. “The big, shiny boy scout with all the answers. I wouldn’t worry too much about him. You and I both know how far that age gap really stretches. He’s too good for you, always will be.”

He took a step closer, his eyes glinting with something dark. “But me? I don’t need to pretend. I know exactly what you need. And I won’t keep running from it like your little superhero friend. I’m offering you something real, and you’re smart enough to see that.”

His words, sharp and possessive, lingered in the air. You swallowed, your throat dry.

“I’ll think about it.” The words came out more breathless than you intended, but Slade didn’t seem to mind.

“Good girl.” His tone was sharp, like an order, but there was something more in it, something possessive, like a claim. He reached out, his fingers brushing your arm as if he had every right to touch you. And the worst part was, you didn’t pull away.

“Don’t take too long,” he murmured, his lips close to your ear. “I’m not the patient type. And when I come back, you’ll have an answer. I’ll be waiting, sweetheart.”

You hated how that sent a chill down your spine.

OKKKKKK WHAT DO YALL THINK??? IS IT GOOD??? BE HONEST!! I BARELY KNEW WHO SLADE WAS BEFORE THIS SO IT MIGHT BE OOC! REMEBER THIS IS AN AU! SORRY IF THERE'S TYPOS I WROTE THIS ON MY PHONE IN BED. I FEEL LIKE IT SUCKS SO I MIGHT TAKE IT DOWN AND NEVER SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!!!!

[restless-soulz]

It was dark and boring underneath rubble. I don't know what else you were expecting.

I don't know how long it had been since that final storm, but it was long enough that I could feel roots and vines creep over the cool stone to make me colder. There's not much to do when you're stuck. I already recalled every book I've read, every invention humanity created, recited the history of the earth. I fantasized about using the roots on my left knee to make a crotchet needle, since all it did was hook into me.

And then the rubble started to move.

I held my breath, waiting for the sound to begin again.

There!

Above, the blackness grew infinitesimally lighter. And lighter. Sometimes, the noise stopped for a while before it began again.

The bits of light hurt my eyes. I was glad it was slow going, because my muscles were not great except for straining themselves for however long to see if I could move (I never could). Sound hurt too. I wept when it felt that the noise didntwouldntcouldnt stop.

And then something wet fell on my face.

I opened my eyes, confused as to how they closed in the first place only to freeze. I had never before seen this creature before. It had feathers and fur, like the dinosaurs replicas I saw in museums, but its mouth wasn't beaked. No, that was a little puppy dog.

"Hello." Disuse had my made my voice atrophy like the rest of me, but in time it would return. Probably.

The thing above me gekkered, and the ducked out of the little skylight it made. From that, I could see the blue sky again. And it was as wonderful as it had been before.

I named it Thing. Thing worked fast, and was very efficient for its presumable size. Sometimes, it dropped a few leaves and unidentifiable carcasses on me. The smell got bad for a bit, but then I couldn't smell it anymore.

When Thing got most of the rubble off, it chipped excitedly as I stumble to feet that hadn't been used in years. Breathing felt difficult, and I knew it was probably because of atmospheric changes. And less people. More oxygen for me then.

Thing was a cuddly creature, and it also smelled. The first nightfall I saw, it curled up into my lap as I kept watch for it.

The ruins of the city in the moonlight were...in a lack of a better word, shocking. Buildings were overtaken by nature, and in the distance, huge creatures could be seen eating from the rooftops of skyscrapers yet to fall. Bees that were bigger than I'd ever seen flocked to midnight blooming flowers, that were also enormous.

Thing wanted us to travel. I found a long piece of rebar and followed it. I told it stories about the Earth, anecdotes from long dead friends, and everything else that had been waiting to spill while I was alone.

It brought us to orchards gone wild, across hills, and once a lake. And then Thing reached the sea.

I stopped.

There, in the water, was a human. Or at least...something human-like.It waved at Thing, and it jumped into the water. A tail flapped behind the person.

They finally seemed to notice me because they stopped too. Their eyes went wide, I could see that from shore, and they turned back into the water.

I missed Thing and there was nothing else to do, so I made camp on the beach and waited. I didn't have to wait for longer than a day. The person (mermaid?) came back, and this time with a whole crew. And Thing.

Thing trotted from the shallows to shove itself underneath my hands, demanding to be pet.

One of the new species people swam forward.

"Flolo?"

"Hello."

They frowned. "H-h-" They gills fluttered and turned red.

"Try ello, then."

"ello. o are loo? Are loo sthe Eve?"

I stared in shock. How did they know my name?

They took my silence as an answer. "E ave been shearching forr more shmart life. Like ush. Come an teasch?"

The water was warm, and their hand was colder, but the place they gave me was nice. Someone came to speak with me at every hour. They brought astrological charts, devices that worked in ways I barely understood, and for some reason they had a bible. Heavily translated it seemed like since it wasn't made with wood paper, but with seaweed ground paper that could be wet. We compared knowledge, I shared everything that humanity had learned including all the languages that they had been unable to translate without a lot of guessing.

One day, I asked them why they called me Eve. How did they know my name.

Scal gekkered (where Thing had learned to laugh from it seemed like) and told me that they had been sending rescues onto land for a long time. Centuries. Trying to excavate fossils of a civilization long past when they found a heat signature in the center of an abandoned city. They weren't sure what it was, and began to scour their texts. The bible had their answer. The story of Adam and Eve.

"You were the one that left your garden. You are the Eve, mother of our people."

You're an immortal being who has been trapped deep under the rubble of a destroyed city for thousands of years after a series of natural disasters wiped out all of humanity. You've given up hope of ever being freed from this nightmare. One day, the rubble begins to shift…

[jinkoh]

pressure points

yunho x fem!reader

summary: your physical therapy is getting very physical

tags: physiotherapist!yunho, smut (mdni), reader is painfully horny (especially for yunho's hands), tension, kissing, teasing, fingering; feat. woosan as your bffs

wc: 3.2k

a/n: started writing this back when i went to physiotherapy--but i swear it's only partially inspired by real occurrences, my therapist was very professional

masterlist

Usually, your weekly meet ups with your best friends—or girls’ night as Wooyoung liked to call it, even when you were the only one who technically qualified—were your sanctuary, your safe space, your chance to decompress after a stressful week at work. But usually your non-existent sex life wasn’t the topic of the night, nor were you interrogated over your relationship to your new physiotherapist. You were quickly starting to regret ever mentioning him or his big hands or cheeky smile or— 

“I know I'm barely one to talk,” Wooyoung said, clearly amused over the whole situation and not at all willing to change topic, “but you’re like pathetically horny.”

“No, listen,” you started, pointing at him with the pretzel stick you’d been nibbling on. “Yunho just has—”

“Yunho?” Wooyoung snorted, “You’re on first name basis with your physiotherapist?”

“Don’t make it weird, that’s just their policy and it makes it more comfortable too.”

“Mhm, right. Except you’re maybe getting a little too comfortable.”

Before you could retort, San let himself plop onto the empty chair at your table. “What did I miss?” He asked casually while scanning the drinks menu (as if he didn’t already know his order).

“Nothing much,” Wooyoung replied, “I'm getting a promotion and y/n wants to fuck her physiotherapist.”

“Woo!”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “What, it’s true.”

“It’s not! He just—it’s not my fault that he touched my hips like that!”

“Y/n, honey, he was showing you an exercise.”

“Well, yeah, but his hands are just kinda sexy and—” you trailed off when you saw San pulling a face. “What?”

San shook his head with a sigh, “Girl, you want to fuck him so bad.”

Maybe your friends had a point, because despite your tiring work day and the way your joints were aching with exhaustion, you found yourself feeling giddy for your next appointment with Yunho. The only thing putting a damper on your mood was that after today you only had one more session left, when really you wished you could keep going forever. 

The clinic was rather quiet and the lights in the back were already off—you always had the last time slot of the day and you rarely met other patrons when you came in. Today was no different, the only people you could spot were Yunho and one of his colleagues.

“Hey,” Yunho greeted you with a soft smile, briefly looking up before focusing back on where he seemed to be typing something into the computer behind the counter, “On time as always.”

“Of course,” you replied with a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up for literally no reason at all. 

“Very commendable,” he grinned and then his eyes darted up to you once more, almost as if he was accessing you, “You can already get into room 2, I’m with you in a second,” he nodded towards a door before turning to his colleague, “Mingi, can you look this over for me?”

“Sure, no problem,” the other man replied, hovering over the screen of the computer too. Your gaze lingered on the scene a second longer, taking in how Yunho adjusted the glasses sitting on his nose, but when he looked up, meeting your gaze in a question, you quickly hurried into the room he’d pointed at. It was a smaller one than usual; the mirror, yoga mats and other equipment you were used to replaced by a massage table that you awkwardly sat down on while you waited. It only took another one or two minutes for Yunho to appear in the doorframe.

“You were looking kind of tired, so I thought it’s a good idea to do something more relaxing today,” he said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. He had your files in his hand, scribbling something down before leaving the clipboard on the little shelf in the corner, “But remember you still have to do the exercises at home though. And no slouching.”

“Aye, Sir,” you replied with a playful salute that got frozen mid-air when he met your gaze with a smile and a cheeky “Good girl.” Good. Girl. How the fuck were you supposed to survive this?

“Alright,” he continued, all professional, as if he hadn’t just hit you out of left field with his comment, “we’ll loosen up your muscles a bit, in the neck and upper back area, since that’s where you’re having the most trouble. Please lay down on your stomach with your head on this side,” he briefly tapped the head rest, “and it’d be good if you removed your top so I have access to your back—I can go out for a second if you prefer.”

You knew there were no hidden motives there, after all he was a professional and this was his job. But the thought of undressing in front of the guy you’d been having somewhat inappropriate thoughts of was still making your heart race.

“Uhm, no, it’s okay,” you stuttered, turning your upper body away from him as you slipped out of your shirt, holding the fabric close to your chest. “B—my bra too?”

“No, it’s okay, we can just—” he reached out and you felt his fingers gently brush your skin as he pushed the straps of your bra down your shoulders, “move them out of the way like this.” His touch left goosebumps in its wake and maybe it was your wishful thinking, but you thought his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary. Then he pulled away though, clearing his throat and stepping aside so you had enough space to lie down. He took a seat on a little rolling chair at the top of the table and you could see his legs through the hole of the headrest.

His hands felt warm and soft as he smoothed them over your upper back a few times before he started rubbing out the sore spots in your neck. You felt the way the tension was seeping out of you, making you feel relaxed and at ease. At least until he spoke up again with his sweet honey voice.

“It’s okay if it hurts a little, but if you’re in so much pain that you want to scream, do tell me. We don’t want that.” He let his hands move to your left shoulder blade, finding one of your pressure points, “For it to hurt that badly, I mean. I don’t mind if you scream.” He chuckled and you huffed out a laugh as well while your cheeks were heating up for nth time that day. It was a good thing he couldn’t see your face right now. “Uh, yeah, I’ll let you know," you replied but all you could think about was him making you scream. Your silly brain couldn't help but wonder if he liked a vocal partner. 

Yunho seemed blissfully unaware of your inner tumult, rubbing out the knots in your back completely unbothered. “This still okay?” He asked as he moved to another point and you felt yourself gasp a little at the initial pain. It wasn’t exactly a bad pain though. Something about the light sting was almost pleasurable.

“Still okay,” you assured and he hummed in affirmation as his fingers kept moving. He was skilled and precise in his ministrations, and you knew he had to be, with this being his literal job, but the thought that perhaps his fingers were skillful in other places too wouldn’t leave your mind for the rest of the massage. 

It was over too quickly for your liking, ended by him gently moving the straps of your bra back up your shoulders. “Alright,” he said, scooting away from the table to give you some space, “That’s it for today.”

“Thanks, I really needed that,” you mumbled as you sat up, just to immediately regret your words. You sounded like a pathetic, touch starved horndog. 

“Mhm,” he hummed and you couldn’t read his expression as he took a note in your files, “I could see that.”

“So, what if I do want to fuck him?”

Wooyoung let out a giggle, “Finally admitting to it, huh?”

“Just go for it,” San advised, “It’s gonna be your last appointment anyway.” 

That was a reminder you really didn’t want to hear, so you quickly shoved the thought aside in favor of more pressing questions.. “But what’s that supposed to mean? How would I even go for it?”

“Well, do it the way you normally would,” Wooyoung said matter of factly, “You know how to flirt, right?”

“I—I don’t. Not like that. I never really tried to get into anyone’s pants before,” you admitted.

San raised an eyebrow, “So you just had people coming at you without even trying? What a flexer.”

“Don’t tease me, Sannie, you know it’s not like that. It’s just that there’s usually dating involved. I’ve never slept with anyone I wasn’t at least casually dating.”

“Date him then,” San simply replied but Wooyoung shook his head. “Way too time consuming. She wants a quick fix, not a slow-burn romance. Take this as a learning opportunity, y/nnie.”

“Well, then teach me! What do I do?”

“Oh? Teach me?” San said with a smirk, “That’s kinda hot.”

“I gotta agree, but we’re getting off topic here.” Wooyoung fished a pretzel stick out of the glass on the table and took a bite of it before he continued, “So, the important thing is to show him you’re interested. But don’t make it romantic, you don't want a coffee invite."

"Actually I wouldn't mind a coffee—"

"Yeah, and you can have your coffee—after taking care of how fucking pent-up you are." He let the rest of his pretzel stick disappear into his mouth, still chewing as he continued, "He’s your physiotherapist, there’s gotta be plenty of chances for him to get his hands on you. Just subtly let him know you really like it.”

“Yeah,” San agreed, before coming back to his initial advice: “Just go for it.”

For your last appointment he sent you to room number 4, the one with the mirror and the yoga mats and other equipment that you knew all too well. After last week's session you found yourself filled with disappointment. For a moment you stood in the doorway, until Yunho came over, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Not going in?”

San’s words were ringing in your head: Just go for it. Wooyoung’s advice on subtlety must have gotten lost on you though, but who was Wooyoung to give that advice anyway?

“Uhm, I was thinking—you know I’m feeling kind of tired today…” You trailed off, your eyes darting over to room number 2, where the ajar door revealed the massage table.

He met your words with a chuckle. “Are you saying you want a massage for our last appointment? Did you like it that much?”

“It just seemed to really help with my sore spots…”

“Hmm,” he hummed, his arms crossed in front of his body thoughtfully, “I do think we should go through the exercises I taught you at least once—to make sure you remember them correctly and can do them at home. Don’t want you coming back here in another three weeks.”

“You don’t want me to come back?”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a moment there before he let out a chuckle, “Not if it means you’re in pain again.”

“Didn’t you say it’s okay if it hurts a little?”

He shook his head in disbelief, “I feel like I’m not getting anywhere here, so let’s make a compromise—first a quick run down of the exercises and then for the remaining time you can get on the table for me, hm?”

Get on the table for me. You tried not to think anything of the words he’d chosen, tried not to let your brain warp them until they held a different meaning altogether, but it was hopeless. The worst part was, that you couldn’t help feeling like he was doing this on purpose, reveling in the way your gaze turned feverish and your cheeks flushed red with heat.

The quick run down was almost agonizing. He did keep his promise to make it short, but every time he stepped into your personal space to fix your posture, you felt your skin tingling with anticipation and need. When you finally, finally went over to room 2, you were more than ready to skip the massage and go for other activities instead. You pulled yourself together though, and did not jump him the moment he closed the door. Instead, you took off your shirt and laid down on the table like last time. Yunho sat at the head end once more, working his magic on your neck and shoulders. When he moved his hands a little further down your back, they briefly got caught on your bra.

“Sorry about that,” he said, his voice calm and smooth.

You bit your lower lip. This seemed like a pretty good chance, didn’t it?

“You can take it off, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

He halted for a moment, and maybe if you could see his face you’d be able to read his expression, but with your eyes facing the floor you were stuck wondering what he was thinking.

“Are you sure?” Yunho asked after a moment and there was something in his voice that made it feel like his question wasn’t just about the massage.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It only took a second for him to unhook your bra, the fabric falling to the side of your body. His fingers seemed to trace the place where it’d sat, maybe following the light imprints it’d left behind. 

“You have pretty skin,” he said eventually, his voice just a whisper.

“Yeah?” Your heart was racing in your chest with nerves and anticipation of what could possibly happen.

“Yeah,” his index finger gently wandered over your spine, “It feels nice to touch.”

“It feels nice when you touch me, too.”

He hesitated for a moment and the brief silence was killing you. “I could do it more,” he finally said.

“I’d like that.”

“Turn around for me?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you immediately turned to lay on your back, losing your bra along the way. The moment you were facing up, he leaned down, crashing his lips into yours. The angle was kind of awkward with the way you were technically upside down from his point of view, but neither of you seemed to really care as you devoured each other in a kiss you’d been anticipating for weeks.

When he eventually pulled away, both of you breathless, there was a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Isn’t this kind of like spiderman?” he asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I didn’t know my hot physiotherapist was a nerd.”

“So, I’m hot?”

You rolled your eyes before your hand reached out to pull him close again, “Aren’t we kinda past that?”

“Right,” he grinned into your lips, “I guess so.”

He kissed you again before he pulled away to get up from his chair, the angle too awkward to really touch, and he was dying to get his hands all over you. You sat up on the table, letting your legs dangle off one side, and he swiftly moved to stand between them, caging you in with his hands  on either side of your hips. 

“We’re the only ones here, right?” you asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” he pecked the corner of your mouth before kissing his way to your jaw and then down to your collar bone, “Mingi left a while ago and the cleaning staff only comes in the morning.”

“Good,” you leaned back and tilted your neck to give him more access, reveling in the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin. 

His hands moved to your body, one of them keeping you steady as the other tugged at the hem of your jeans. “Can we take this off?”

You nodded a little too quickly, your hands immediately flying to the button to help him undo it. 

“So eager,” he commented with that smug smile of his before he helped you drag the pants off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let his thumb lightly rub over the thin and embarrassingly wet fabric, smile growing wider as you let out a little whimper. “Why do I feel like you haven’t been focusing on treatment at all and were instead thinking of—” he flicked his thumb over your clothed clit, “something else?”

“I couldn’t help it,” you whimpered, “not my fault your hands are—like that.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you whimpered once more when his long fingers started to run over your folds, pushing aside your panties to touch you directly, “sexy.”

“They are sexy? Like, when I fix your posture? Or give you a massage?,” he asked, leaving more bites and kisses on your neck, “Or when I do this?” He slipped one of his fingers into you without warning, making you gasp in surprise.

“Yeah,” you pressed out, your mind starting to lose focus as he was moving inside of you, “it’s sexy.”

“That’s good to hear,” he whispered into your skin before adding a second digit and curling them inside of you. You arched off the table at the sensation of it, your body instinctively trying to get away from the intense feeling, but his other hand on your hip kept you in place. He gradually increased his pace, his fingers mercilessly abusing the sensitive spots inside of you and you were already feeling like you were losing your mind. When he moved his thumb back to your clit, applying just the right kind of pressure, you snapped almost immediately, your high washing over you in a sudden and intense wave. Yunho wasn’t letting up quite yet though, still working his skillful hands and prolonging your orgasm until the over sensitivity made you whine. When he finally pulled away, he looked at his fingers for a moment, admiring your glistening juices on them before he licked them clean one by one.

“That was nice,” he said with a smile, as if you had just done him a service and not the other way round. Still, you agreed with a hazy nod. 

He pulled your panties back into place before leaning in for a kiss. “How about I take you out for a coffee sometime?”

“So, uh, what if I don’t want to just fuck him?”

“Weren’t we over this?” Wooyoung took a sip of his beer, before your words really registered, “Wait, are you saying you have feelings for him?!”

“I—I don’t know, he’s just—” you dropped your face onto the table with a sigh, “he’s just so charming.”

"See?" San said with a triumphant grin, "So much for a quick fix."

“Well, then I hope you at least got his number.”

Now a smile spread on your lips, too, “I even got that coffee invite.”

masterlist | pls consider reblogging if you enjoyed this~

[willowsnook]

off limits

joe burrow! x kelce sibling?????????

joe burrow x kelce!sister

Being Jason and Travis Kelce’s little sister meant that a life in the spotlight came naturally, and you took advantage of it. Let’s be real, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to be an influencer when it was served on a silver platter?

Once your brothers’ fames skyrocketed, you started getting hit up by brands for different sports-related shoots and loved it. Plus, after Kylie started her own podcast, she asked you to co-host with her. You were happy to help her bring more female audiences into sports, along with the aid of a hopefully future sister-in-law of yours. You also garnered a lot of male attention; the Kelce genes were certainly attractive, so much to your brothers’ irritation, you were constantly hit on on social media.

The most amusing guy that hit on you was Joe Burrow. You had met him a handful of times over the years but never really hung out; that didn’t stop him from constantly sliding up on your Instagram stories.

You look good. In Cincy soon? 🥵

You replied lazily every once in a while, but it made you laugh considering he would never say that stuff publicly because of your very overprotective brothers. You knew they both liked Joe a lot, but would they like him sliding into their little sister’s DMs? Probably not.

New Heights was filming a show in Cincinnati, and Not Gonna Lie was like the opener for it. You were excited, as this was the first live show you would be a part of and admittedly were a little curious to see a certain quarterback who was a guest. Time to see if his actions lived up to his words.

You landed in Cincinnati the day of the event, and it was a tad warmer than what Philly was currently like, so you were already enjoying the spring sunshine. You spent the day exploring the city before heading to the arena for a bunch of pre-show things before the evening. Kylie was wearing Jason’s jersey, so you decided to match the jersey vibe but wanted to stir the pot with Joe with your choice. You had gone to the University of Oklahoma for school and hung out with some of the players often during your time there, so it was easy to get someone to hook you up with an Orlando Brown Jr. jersey for the event. He was the other guest on the podcast tonight and one of Joe’s teammates.

The jersey hit mid-thigh, so you just opted for a pair of Nike pros underneath, paired with high boots.

“They are going to kill you,” Kylie said, amused after you came out of the changing room.

“You think so?” you asked innocently, giving her a twirl. She whistled loudly, making you laugh.

“Also, why the Orlando jersey?” she asked, and you shrugged.

“He went to OU,” you told her, and she smirked.

“So, nothing to do with someone else in your DMs?”

You flipped her off and headed into the hospitality area to grab something to drink. You already regretted telling her about how often Joe was DMing you.

As you entered the hospitality area, you immediately locked eyes with Joe Burrow himself. His gaze traveled from your face down to your jersey, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. You couldn't help but smirk as you watched his expression change from shock to amusement.

"Well, well, well," Joe drawled, sauntering over to you with a cocky grin. "I see you're repping the wrong player tonight."

You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes. "Oh? I thought I was supporting the Bengals. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "You know exactly what you're doing, Kelce."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Burrow," you replied sweetly, grabbing a bottle of water from the refreshment table.

He leaned in close, his cologne washing over your senses, and you tried your best to remain unaffected, meeting his stare head-on.

“You trying to make me jealous isn’t going to work?” he said cockily, and you smirked.

“Oh yeah?” you asked. “How do you know I don’t actually respond to his DMs?”

The look of confidence dropped off his face, and you smirked wider, patting his shoulders as you moved past him and to your brothers. They both noticed as you came over and immediately gave identical disapproving looks.

“Absolutely not.” “Change.” they said at the same time. You rolled your eyes, looking to Kylie for help, who was shaking her head, amused by the situation.

“I think she looks great,” Orlando said, coming up, and you beamed. “Good to see you, y/n, love the jersey.”

“Thanks, O,” you said, hugging him in greeting.

“I think she should change too,” Joe said from behind you. “A little showy.”

“Are you calling my sister a slut?” Jason deadpanned, and you covered your mouth to hide your giggles as Joe paled.

“Nn-no,” he stuttered out. “She might get cold.”

That made you laugh out loud, and you felt bad for him, so you stepped up in his defense.

“He’s just mad I’m not wearing his jersey,” you told them, but that didn’t take the suspicious look off Jason’s face.

“Do you two even know each other that well?” he asked, and you smirked up at Joe, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

“Yeah, Joey, why don’t you tell them how often we talk?” you teased, and he glared down at you before mumbling that he needed to make a call. Your brothers eyed you warily after he left, but you just shrugged.

The show went off without a hitch, and you found yourself enjoying every moment of it. The energy from the live audience was electric, and you felt a rush of excitement as you bantered with Kylie and people in the crowd, especially during the Q&A.

Throughout the show, you couldn't help but notice Joe's eyes constantly flicking towards you. Every time you caught his gaze, he'd quickly look away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. It was endearing, really, how this confident quarterback seemed so flustered around you.

The last question you got was who your prediction was for the MVP this year. You shot a look towards Joe, who was watching you intently, before answering with a smirk.

“I’m gonna have to go with Lamar,” you said to the boos of the Cincinnati audience. “I know, I know, I just think it’s his year. Unless I’m missing someone…”

You mocked being confused, looking around until you met Joe’s eyes and shot him a wink.

“Thank you, Cincy!” Kylie called out, and the two of you headed off stage to watch your brothers from the backstage area. They were amazing as always, and once everything was wrapped up, the whole crew headed out to a nearby bar to celebrate.

As you waited to order a drink, you felt a presence behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Joe.

"Lamar, huh?" he murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

You suppressed a shiver, keeping your eyes forward. "What can I say? I like a man who can run."

Joe chuckled, the sound low and warm. "I can run too, you know."

"Oh really?" you teased, finally turning to face him. "I thought you were more of a pocket passer."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm full of surprises, Kelce. Maybe you should give me a chance to show you."

You raised an eyebrow, a challenge in your voice. "Is that so? And how do you propose to do that?"

Joe leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Come home with me tonight.”

“Hmm,” you said, contemplating. “Might have to ask for my brother’s permission first.”

He rolled his eyes at your teasing, putting both arms against the bar, caging you in.

“Very funny.”

“I think so,” you countered, eyes sparkling with amusement. “What would going home with Joe Burrow even really entail?”

Bringing his lips to your ear, he whispered, “Well, first of all, I would take my time, cutting that filthy jersey off of you.”

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine. You tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how affected you were.

"That's a shame," you murmured, your voice slightly breathy. "I quite like this jersey."

Joe's eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly to look at you. "I'll buy you a new one. A better one."

You couldn't help but smirk. "Oh? And which jersey would that be?"

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You know exactly which one, y/n."

The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. You were about to respond when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

"Y/n! There you are!" Travis's voice boomed across the bar.

Joe pulled back from you, but you grabbed his arm, pulling him down to tell him something quickly.

“20 more minutes and then we can leave.”

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

pt. 2 here

[cissy0writes]

Little Matchmaker

Part 2

Jinx x gn!reader

Summary: The little girl you've been taking care of for a few months stopped showing up one day. A few days later she's on your doorstep once again, but this time she isn't alone... (angst & fluff)

Warnings: mentions of violence and death, selfloathing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, probably ooc Jinx

Wordcount: 2.9k

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait! I had a small accident at work and got a concussion, sadly I wasn't allowed to look at a screen for longer periods of time... But I got the okay from my doctor last friday, so I finished it in the last few days. It's not perfect in any kind of way and probably contains a bunch of mistakes, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Things have been harder lately; ever since Silco's death, Jinx has been worse than ever. She barely slept or ate; most of the time, you practically had to force food down her throat.

But what worried you the most were her hallucinations. They happened more frequently now, not a day went by without one. You tried your best to help her, but you quickly realized her hallucinations were an opponent you couldn't beat.

You've been patient with her, taking care of her needs all by yourself. It was hard; your assuring words and whispered promises just didn't do it anymore. But what else could you do? How else were you supposed to show her she wasn't alone?

Unknown to you, Jinx had already made her decision and had decided the best way to move forward was to leave you behind. It's better this way. She told herself. If she pushed you away now, you would never get the chance to leave, to betray her. And better yet, she wouldn't be able to unwillingly cause your demise.

You were working on a sketch for your next big project when she approached you. The way she said your name, so hollow, so emotionless, already told you that her next words would break your heart.

"This isn't working anymore. I think it's time to part ways." Her expression was grim, her tone nonchalant, as if the idea of life without you didn't fill her body with anxiety.

"What? No-" You quickly shook your head, eyebrows furrowed together as you stared at her, "no, you don't mean that."

She had scoffed in response, face hardening as her stare turned almost cruel. "I don't need you hovering around me like I'm some stupid toddler. I'm better off on my own."

You had feared this would happen eventually. You knew it would happen, but that didn't mean you'd accept it just like this. No, you argued, pleaded, begged. But she didn't budge; her mind was set in stone.

"I know I've been too much lately." You said with unshed tears brimming at your waterline. "But I can change, I swear I can change. Please let me show you that I can change."

"Don't bother." She replied with a roll of her eyes. "You don't have any use here any more. I don't need you anymore."

Her words cut deep, and she knew it. She knew how your past left you broken and believing you only deserve love if you earn it, if you're useful enough. She used this insecurity for her own gain; she thought if she just hurt you enough, you'd stop arguing and just accept everything.

But even as the first tears started falling, you still didn't budge. You frantically shook your head, "I can be useful again."

Jinx turned around and started walking away, so she didn't have to see your pained expression. She couldn't stand seeing you cry, and knowing she was the reason for the tears made it so much worse.

It's better this way. She repeated the thought over and over again. It's better this way. She can't leave me if she's gone already. I can't hurt her if she isn't around.

In one last desperate attempt, you reached out for her. "Please. Jinx, please, I love you." But the moment you touched her shoulder and she turned around, you knew you fucked up.

Her palm met your cheek with a loud smack, and for a moment, her expression mirrored the horror you felt. This never happened before; no matter how mad she was, she never hit you before.

She schooled her expression back to careful indifference and practically spat her next words. "I don't, and I don't want you here."

That's when you left, heartbroken and tears streaming down your cheeks.

Months passed, but her words kept haunting you until you met Isha. You always imagined meeting her again one day, but not like this, not while you looked like the mess you were.

You blinked, once, twice, then cleared your throat. "She's been with you?" The words didn't sound nearly as calm and collected as you wanted them to; instead, your voice came out shaky and uneven.

"Yeah," Jinx muttered out with a nod, her expression unreadable.

You didn't know what to say or do; thankfully, Isha seemed to pick up on the awkward atmosphere. She moved out of your hold and held out her hand, looking at you expectingly. You immediately grabbed her hand; you would never question her choices or decisions ever again. After you slowly got up on your feet, she reached for Jinx's hand as well. The blue-haired girl muttered weak protests but took her hand nonetheless.

None of you said a word as Isha marched towards the door of your shop, pulling you and Jinx along with her.

Once inside, Isha led you two up the stairs, and you started to wonder if this was a good idea. Jinx has never been here before, after all. Before she broke up with you, you lived with her. You were nearing your bedroom, and as soon as you were inside, Isha dropped your hands and walked over to the desk you previously sat in front of.

She stepped over the chair on the ground and rummaged through the papers on your desk. You and Jinx watched her with confused expressions, but when she turned back around with a drawing in her hands and a grin on your face, your face morphed into an embarrassed grimace.

The drawing was of Jinx; you had made it years ago, and after your break-up, you couldn't find it in your heart to get rid of it. It was a reminder of the good times and the happy memories you shared with her.

The picture only showed her face; she was laughing, her eyes squeezed shut, and her lips pulled upwards in a beautiful smile. It used to be taped on the wall beside your bed, a place where you could see it every night. You remembered the day you put it away, and finally, your mind began to put the loose ends of Isha’s disappearance and her return with Jinx together.

Isha was a very creative child; she loved to draw and paint. Whenever you had a client, you gave Isha a stack of paper and a package of colorful crayons. She would sit on the small table in the back of your shop and be entertained for hours. From now and then she would go to you and show you her newest masterpiece.

You kept every picture Isha ever drew in a box under your bed beside one. The one picture, a drawing of you and Isha side by side as stick figures, holding hands and smiling, was too precious to put away.

She was so proud when she showed it to you, her smile contagious and her eyes practically shining.

"Oh, this is beautiful!" You had told her with a wide smile, carefully taking the picture out of her hands. You ran your fingers over it, admiring it with a soft expression. "You know what? I'm going to hang this up beside my bed." You said to her when you looked up again.

Isha nodded her head frantically up and down, her expression filled with excitement as she ran past you up the stairs. You followed after her with a chuckle and a shake of your head.

Inside your room, you stopped in front of your bed, staring at Jinx's picture on your wall. You just stood there for a while, Isha’s drawing is still in your hands as you got lost in thought.

The pull on your shirt brought you back to reality, and you looked down at Isha, who gave you a curious look. You shook your head and gently pealed the taped picture from your wall, making sure not to damage the paper.

You placed it on your bed and went to your cupboard, rummaging through it in search of more tape. When you found it, you turned around with a smile, but Isha wasn't looking at you- she was looking at the drawing of Jinx.

She tilted her head to the side as she looked back up, pointing at the picture and giving you a curious look. You sat down next to her on your bed, taking the picture from her with a sigh.

"This is an old friend of mine, someone I really liked." You explained to her as you traced your fingers over the paper. "I haven't seen her in a long time... We had a fight, you know?"

Isha nodded in response, a look on her face as if she understood that you and Jinx used to be more than friends. You shook your head and put the picture away again. "It doesn't matter now. Let's put up your drawing, okay?"

You never mentioned Jinx again to Isha, and you were under the impression she simply forgot your talk. But now, as she pointed at the drawing and then at Jinx with a proud look on her face, you realized the reason she was gone for so long was because she found Jinx. She found her and brought her to you, and some part of you wanted to break down in tears again at this realization.

"You kept this?" Jinx asked with a frown as she turned to you, her tone skeptical, almost hesitant. "Why?"

Because throwing it away meant we were truly over. Because as long as I had this, at least a part of you was still with me. Because it reminded me of all the happy memories we had together. Because I still need you like I used to. Of course, you didn't say any of that; instead, you looked away from her and shrugged. "Didn't have it in me to get rid of it..."

You walked over to Isha and took the picture from her, putting it back on your desk and handing her a fresh sheet of paper and crayons. "Can you make me a new drawing?" You asked her with a smile, and she lit up with excitement at your request. She nodded and quickly left the room, no doubt going to her own room to draw.

"So..." You began as you turned back to face Jinx, feeling unsure if having her here was a good thing or a bad thing. "It's been a while."

Jinx nodded with a grim look on her face, scoffing out her words. "Yeah, but you seem to be doing well. Look at you playing happy family."

You shook your head with a sigh. "Do we really have to do this again? Can't we just for once talk like normal people?"

"Spoiler alert, sweetcheeks. We're not normal." She scoffed out with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

You sighed again, picking up the fallen chair and sitting down on it. You just looked at her for a moment, studying her from head to toe. She hadn't changed at all, at least not physically, you wondered how her mental state was. Did it get better or worse?

"Why did you push me away?" You asked after a while. You just couldn't help it, that question haunted your mind all this time. Why?

Jinx seemed caught of guard, her eyes widened for a moment before her gaze hardened again and she stared at you with squinted eyes.

"What's it matter now? It's been months, move on." Her voice quivered ever so slightly, her unbothered facade slowly cracking away.

"Please." You said as you looked at her with a frown, shaking your head at her. "I just want to know. I need to know. Why?"

Jinx scoffed, averting her gaze and shrugging her shoulders. "You would have left anyway, figured I make it easier for the both of us."

Your frown only deepened and you shook your head almost frantically. "That's not true- I would have never left you, never."

Jinx was quiet after that, her expression torn between regret and guilt. But she quickly shook the thoughts away, narrowing her eyes once more. "Yeah, that's what everyone always says. Let's be honest sweetcheeks, either you would have left or died. That's how it always goes."

"Why do you sabotage yourself like that?" You asked with a hint of disbelief. "Why can't you just accept that people actually care about you? That people love you?"

"Because I'm a jinx!" Her voice rose and she threw up her hands in exaggeration. She half expected you to flinch away from her -given how your last encounter with her ended- but you didn't even bat an eye at her small outbreak. "I destroy everything around me! I get everyone who cares about me killed one way or another!"

You shook your head at your words, looking at her with something close to pity and she hated it.

"You're not a jinx. You're just Jinx. People in Zaun die left and right everyday, that has nothing to do with you."

You hoped your words would soothe her, would make her understand how wrong her thoughts about herself were. She just gritted her teeth and looked away from you, not bothering to respond in any way.

You sighed and looked down at your lap. "Aren't I tge perfect example? I care about you more than anything and I'm still alive. I care and I didn't die, isn't that proof enough?"

"You still care?" Jinx asked hesitantly, her expression almost vulnerable as she studied you with her gaze.

"Of course I do." You said the words as if it was obvious and to you it was. How could she be so surprised about it? Did she really think your devotion to her just stopped?

"Why?" Her voice was uncertain, almost disbelieving.

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head and getting up. You walked slowly towards her, doing your best not to startle her as you reached for her face. She flinched away for a second, her gaze looking haunted before she took a shaky breath in.

"I love you Jinx, that never changed. I don't even think it _can_ change." You told her quietly, gently cupping her face in your hands as her lips began to tremble.

It only took two seconds before the first tears rolled down her cheeks. Her body shook as sobs escaped her and she threw her arms around you, clinging desperately onto you.

"I'm sorry. I- I'm so sorry." She cried out against you, pressing her nails uncomfortably into the skin of your shoulders. You could feel her tears soak the front of your shirt, could feel the pain in your shoulders, but you didn't mind. You never minded.

You rubbed her back up and down in a soothing way, whispering soft assurances in her ear as you felt yourself tear up as well. "It's okay... it's okay..."

"I... I- I'm sorry... please don't leave." Jinx's voice sounded almost like a whimper and you held her a bit tighter.

"I won't. I won't." You promised her, voice thick with emotion and you squeezed your eyes shut as the tears became too much. "We'll make this work."

"H-how?"

"I don't know," you mumbled with a slight shake of your head, "but we will. I swear we will."

You don't know how long you two stood there, just holding each other, but no matter how long it was it didn't feel long enough. You finally had her back, she was in your arms again... For months the mere idea of this seemed impossible, but this was real. She was really here with you again.

You only pulled apart when Isha pulled on the fabric of your pants, you hadn't even noticed her entering the room again.

Your left arm was still around Jinx, not daring to let go of her just yet and you could see her looking away out the corner of your eyes. You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, wiping away the tears before looking down at Isha with a smile.

Isha stared at you with a frown, obviously concerned about you. She glanced at Jinx for a moment and then back at you, tilting her head to the side and giving you a questioning look.

"Everything is fine." You told her with a smile before your attention got pulled to the piece of paper she was holding in her small hands. "Did you finish your drawing?"

Isha seemed a bit skeptical for a moment but she shrugged it off as soon as you mentioned her drawing, instead she nodded excitedly and held it up for you.

You carefully took it from her to look it over. You couldn't help but smile brightly as you saw what she drew. Three stick figures, one that looked like Jinx on the left and one that looked like you on the right. In the middle was a smaller figure, Isha, both you and Jinx were holding one of Isha’s hands. All stick figures were smiling and over them were big red hearts.

"It's absolutely beautiful." You looked back at Isha and reached out to run your hand through her hair.

Isha beamed at your praise and you let out a chuckle before tapping Jinx's arm to get her attention.

You handed her the drawing and watched her expression. She looked so much younger right now, her eyes tearing up again and her lips quirked in a wobbly smile.

At that moment, as you watched Jinx carefully tracing the figures with her fingers, you knew everything would be okay.

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

Whoever created the saying ‘you can cut the tension with a knife’ had never been more wrong. Someone would need a power saw to cut the tension between Bucky and I. After the little disagreement we had, we both went to sleep with our backs turned towards each other. It was well into the morning and not one word had been spoken between us. 

Bucky was in the bathroom, getting ready for our market trip, while I was standing at the counter with my back turned towards the bathroom and making a list of everything we needed. Despite the bad end to my night, I had managed to make decent money at work so we were able to buy more than usual. 

Sensing Bucky’s warmth behind me, I continued to ignore him as I double counted the money. It became incredibly hard to ignore him when his scent filled my nose, sending chills throughout my body. We stood shoulder to shoulder as he looked over some of his knives before pocketing them. 

“You haven’t brought your knives with you in almost a year,” I spoke softly. 

He shrugged and I felt him slip one into my back pocket. His hand lingered for a quick second before pulling away. 

“I have a weird feeling.” He admitted. 

Bucky went to walk away but I placed a hand on his broad chest to stop him. His eyes looked into my own and I could sense the disappointment lingering off of him. 

“I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’ve been so upset with what Hydra did to me that I forgot for a second of what you went through. It was wrong of me to be so ‘woe is me’ when you’re going through the same thing; only worse.” 

He sighed and placed his flesh hand over mine that was still placed on his chest. He gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have shut you out the way I did. The past few days I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that something is going to happen.”

I looked at him confused. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “We should get going.” 

Bucky dropped my hand to place his hat over his head and he went to hand me mine but I declined. 

“I think my new hair color is going to be enough of a disguise,” I joked while throwing it up into a messy bun. 

“I still can’t believe it changed that quick,” Bucky said. 

A large groan left my lips. “I know. I thought about dying it to my original color but who knows that it won’t change back.” 

Bucky shrugged. “I kind of like it.” 

“Oh you do, huh?” 

I could stop the small giggle I let out as the air around us shifted. The anger between us dissipated and was replaced with sexual tension. Bucky closed the distance between us in one large step and his metal fingers tangled in my hair, releasing it around my face. 

“I also like it when it’s down,” Bucky mused, his voice getting deeper. “Easier to grab.” 

His fingers gently grabbed the back of my skull and pulled my lips closer to his. 

Clearing my throat, I tried to think of something to say back. But with the intense sexual feeling that was warming my insides, my brain went to mush. Lust clouded around us, creating a small bubble with only the two of us. We were blocked out from the rest of the world. I stumbled over my words and could feel Bucky’s warm breath fanning over my lips. 

“Y/N,” he breathed. 

“Yes?” 

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to say. But he wasn’t able to speak because my phone ringing from the counter brought us back to reality. I felt him start to pull away so I gently grabbed his hips. 

“I have voicemail,” I reminded him. 

He shook his head, embarrassment causing his cheeks to turn red. “It’s okay. We should really get going.” 

And suddenly the bubble around us popped. 

Letting out a sigh, I reached for my phone. Bucky slipped on his glove over his metal hand so he hadn’t noticed the look of shock on my face when I read the new text message. 

Make sure to bring an umbrella today. I’m seeing a chance of rain.

The number may have been unknown but I didn’t matter. I knew who it came from. 

“Who was it?” Bucky questioned from behind. 

“No one,” I shook my head while pocketing my phone. “Ready?” 

Bucky knew I was hiding something but thankfully he decided not to press the issue. We both walked out of the apartment and I suddenly had the same feeling that something was about to happen today. 

Something we weren’t prepared for. 

Giving the old lady a quick smile of thanks, I placed the bag of apples in the one I had brought from home and looked around for Bucky. He mentioned that he needed to run a personal errand once but that was a while ago. I started to worry that something might have happened to him, especially after receiving the text message earlier. 

“Looking for someone?” 

Jumping at the deep voice, I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Bucky. “Find what you need?” 

He nodded before slowly pulling out a small box from his pocket and handed it towards me. I took it without saying a word and when I opened it, a small gasp left my lips. Inside was a small necklace. A black gem shaped as a circle was in the middle and gold surrounded it. 

“What is this?” I asked. 

“Happy Birthday.” 

My eyes snapped away from the necklace and over to Bucky. His hands were deep in his pockets, something I noticed he did when he was nervous. 

“You remembered?” 

It was right when we first arrived in Bucharest, one of the earlier nights, we stayed up as he listened to me go on about my life before SHIELD; my childhood, my family, and the time I spent in the FBI and SWAT. 

Bucky nodded. “I know it’s not much but it’s all I could afford.” 

Immediately shutting him up, I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “It’s absolutely perfect, Bucky. Thank you.” 

Tears brimmed in my eyes as I turned my back to him, allowing him to place the necklace on my neck. Bucky’s breath fanned over the back of my neck and chills took over my body. His hands rested on my hips from behind and his soft lips left a kiss on the side of my neck. 

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m taking things slow between us. I’m trying to remember how to do all of this.” Bucky admitted with a hushed tone. 

“It’s alright. I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. 

My fingertips played with the necklace and my heart warmed with the thought that Bucky had wanted to get me a present. 

Bucky brushed his lips against the side of my head and motioned towards the plum stand that was a few feet in front of us. 

“Alright, let’s get some plums then head back home.” 

His metal arm wrapped around my shoulder as he led me towards the stand. I remained quiet as I watched Bucky converse with the lady in Romanian, asking if the plums were good today. After he bought five, he looked down at me with a small smile. 

“What?” He asked.

“I like it when you speak Romanian,” I admitted while biting my lip. 

Suddenly the air around us shifted and Bucky noticed it as well. He pulled me closer to him and looked around the market. His body went rigid with tension and I quickly took the bag of plums from the lady then we both rushed our way home. 

We came to a stop as we were getting ready to cross the road, however, Bucky’s eyes landed on a man that was working at a newsstand. The man watched our every movement with fear in his eyes. 

“We’ve been made,” Bucky muttered. 

My eyes doubled. “What? Are you sure?”

He discreetly nodded towards the man, who now left his stand, and we both crossed out way over to it. Bucky looked around while my eyes went straight to the newspaper from today and what I read on the front page dropped my heart straight to my stomach. Even though I couldn’t read Romanian, the only words I needed to know were Winter Soldier. 

“Bucky,” I stammered while showing him the front page. “What does this say?”

“I’m wanted for bombing the U.N in Vienna.” 

His heart hammered in his chest and his breath quickened. After he threw the paper back on the stand, he brought me into his chest and started walking back towards our apartment. It was only a few minutes from the market so thankfully we could get out of hiding fast. 

“What are we going to do?” I trembled. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky reassured me. “Let’s just get home. We’ll figure it out.” 

Once we were safely inside the complex, Bucky and I both rushed up the stairs but he came to a quick halt right outside the door. His shoulders went straight and he brought out a knife from his pocket. 

“What is it?” 

“Someone’s inside,” he muttered nodding towards the door. 

“Seriously? Who found out where we live?” I thought mostly towards myself. 

Bucky went to go inside but I stepped in front of him to stop him. “Let me go first. Police are looking for you, not me. If they’re inside, I can distract them long enough for you to make a run for it.”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you, Y/N.” 

“I’ll be okay. We’ll meet at that place in the mountains.” 

We had a small house up in the mountains that we were using as a safe house in case something like this were to happen. Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, I entered the apartment with the knife clutched hard in my hand. I sensed a body as soon as my feet crossed the threshold and once I saw who exactly was in the apartment, the knife clattered to the ground causing him to turn on his heels, shield drawn high ready to fight. 

All of the past feelings slammed into me like a brick wall and even under the mask, I could tell that his face was showing the effects of how tired he was, his eyes shined a little less than they used too. 

We stared at each other for a few long moments before he placed the shield on the counter. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” 

Swallowing the very large lump in my throat, my voice had come out way more shaky than I had intended. 

“Steve.” 

[pleasantspark]

The DIFFERENCE between Pink and Lucifer

While both were essentially the runts/children of their oppressors, one at least had a reason why they didn't stand for what happened.

Themes of Mental Illness

Pink Diamond

Growing up in an oppressive empire that coddled her and treated her like a kid, Pink always wanted to be something else, and make something out of herself, but due to her status as "the court jester" she was increasingly sidelined and often ridiculed by her sisters and mother for being what she is, a child.

Pink had self worth issues, she as emotionally abused, neglected and even abused in general. Being locked up in a tower whenever she had done something a child would do made her feel alone.

Due to the mistreatments and lack of acknowledgement or care, Pink began to regress to the only thing she was known for, which caused even more negativity, even if she was getting attention she didn't care if it was negative or positive she wanted people to notice her.

It all accumulated when Pink finally got Earth and set her sights on what she was put on Homeworld for, but when she decided to check Earth herself and saw all the life forms on the planet she quickly changed her mind wanting to instead save the Earth.

Due to her oppressors being very strict and literally predicting what they said that she would do, she created a distraction, Rose Quartz which led to her doing a be all end all to The Diamonds interest in Earth and ended up ending herself to make someone who could not live through the mistakes she made, she thought by ending herself and rebirthing herself that she would mean something.

Rose was a complicated character with severe issues, that suffered from self-esteem and abuse but we learned all of that backwards while the same can't be said for Lucifer.

Lucifer Magne/Morningstar

Compared to Pink, Lucifer grew up well, although he always thought outside the box and due to this, caused annoyances in the long run. In the sense he stole Adam's first wife Lilith and caused ruckus throughout Heaven, while the show tries to paint Heaven as bad as Hell, it's no way in comparison to what Pink went through at all, due to the fact of one thing:

Lucifer brought most of his actions onto himself.

Lucifer actively acted beligirent as an adult, while causing disruption and unlike Pink had deserved his punishment one way or another, even if he was ambitious Lucifer lacked the reasoning behind his "ideas" other than LOLXDRANDOM SPUR OF THE MOMENT! >-<.

The final straw that ended up happening to Lucifer was being sent below after trolling Eve and this finally ended with Heaven sending him down.

Now the narrative basically tries to claim this man who MOST CERTAINLY older than the VA for him, was or is depressed. The problem?

Depression is poorly added in.

I feel like the depression was added in to add sympathy points with no better way of giving him fake brownie rep, as someone with depression the inclusivity of depression was just as jarring as Pentious attempting suicide in the leaks with the fact and knowledge that Pentious was based off of someone who tried to attempt and the fact Pentious DIDN'T succeed in the end is what makes me mad.

The fact that the person who made this show cannot understand mental health while causing the most amount of K/D in a Fandom because of her stans being rabid is enough to tell me she does not care for mental health.

VivziePop made Lucifer unbearable for me for that exact reason, instead of interviewing or getting to know people (like me) with depression , she portrayed him as a sad miserable old man trying to get by without his wife and daughter when he could just reach the fuck out.

Ruling over their respective empire/kingdom

While Pink was a child, she had no idea how to run an empire which landed her as a jester for important ballroom events, and when she was given Earth she was finally able to do her actual job until the reveal she was killing lifeforms on Earth decided to beg them to stop it, but her pleads fell on deaf ears and she took matters into her own hands.

Lucifer's ruling ended just as he started, his "depression arc" ended up happening and left the work to his wife because he didn't want to be responsible for his own actions. Lucifer is a lazy bum who did something bad, instead of being received the applause he wanted, was banished from Heaven alongside his cronies and now he is depressed.

[curly-fry-3]

𖦹An Old Friend𖦹

summary 𖦹 dean is worried for sam and calls up and old friend to talk some sense into him

pairing 𖦹 Sam Winchester x reader (platonic? might change in future chapters)

word count 𖦹 1,282

notes 𖦹 this is my first time writing soooo give me tips and stuff

Dean was worried. Sure, he's always worried about something, but right now he's extremely worried for sam. Sam’s drinking demon blood. It's not right, no matter how much Sam thinks it is, no matter how much Ruby tries to convince him it is. Dean can't trust Ruby– how could he–he'd be stupid if he did, but Sam trusts her, and Dean knows it's leading him down a dark path. But Sam wont listen to Dean, Sam thinks he knows better, he just keeps telling Dean that he's fine (when is that ever true), he keeps saying that this is a good thing. Dean needs to get through to him how wrong this is. So Dean calls you.

You and Sam had been friends since diapers, both of your fathers dropping you off at Bobby's periodically. You two had been attached at the hip, never scared to tell eachother anything. You and Sam would sit on the hood of one of Bobby's scrap cars talking about everything, both dreaming of having a normal life. After Sam went to Stanford you stopped talking but you never resented him for it, you were happy he got out of the hunting life. You got out too, went to college, got a degree, got your dream job, and lived a normal life. You never expected to get a call from Dean after not talking for years.

When you picked up you could immediately tell that something was wrong.

“Dean?” you ask concerned

“Hey Y/N….I- I hate to ask this, I know you have a normal life now…” Dean starts

“What's wrong, are you ok, is this about sam” you ask hurriedly

“Actually yeah, it is…I need your help talking some sense into him…im worried, he’s…god he's…he just need some guidance…he won't listen to me” dean says, struggling to find the right words

“What…i'm comin- where are you” you respond immediately, already packing a bag

“Im sorry, I know its a lot to ask” dean blabbers 

“Shut up, it has to be serious if you're calling me…i'll always come to help you…to help sam” you respond, knowing dean feels bad bring you back into the life (his words not yours)

“Thank you” Dean guiltily accepts your help

After Dean explained Sam's situation, you sped over to the motel Sam and Dean were staying at. None of this sounded like Sam, working with a demon, trusting a demon. What had he been through in these past couple years. You wish you were there for him sooner, who knows what the blood is doing to him. Sure it's giving him powers but what else could it be doing to him, you've never dealt with this before. All you knew is that Sam needed help, and Dean seemed to think you were the only one Sam would listen to.

So here you were, outside the motel door. You knock and wait for an answer. Dean cracks the door open and when he sees it's you, quickly lets you inside.

You stand in front of Dean for a couple seconds, taking in his appearance, noticing how much he's changed. He looks tired, stressed. You hug him “long time no see….I missed you” you say sincerely.

He quickly hugs you back, “missed you too, Y/N/N…im glad youre here” he mutters fondly.

When you pull away you take in the state of the motel room, messy beds, empty food containers, no sam. “Where is he” you ask

Deans expression hardens “I don't know”

“What…what do you mean” you question

“I mean, he left in the middle of the night–no note” Dean answers

“Its after noon…why is he not back yet”

“I assume he's doing some top secret shit with Ruby”

You shake your head “Some peoples kids” you reply trying to lighten the conversation 

You both turn your heads when you hear the door handle jingle and Sam steps into the room. The second Sam steps into the motel room the mood shifts and Dean steps outside to give us some space 

Sam freezes, “Y/N?”

You smile when you see him, how the hell was he taller? “Sam.” You respond and take in his change in appearance. He's different, definitely been through way too much shit, he looks exhausted, god when's the last time he slept, he definitely looks like he needs help.

“What are you doing here? I thought you lived a couple states away?” Sam asked, worried.

“I do….uh…Dean called me.” you answer.

Sams expression shifts “why would he do that, he knows you stopped hunting, i'm gonna have a word with him, i'm so sorry-” He starts going off

“Sam” You interrupt ”calm down…I missed you” you bring him into a hug.

Sam reciprocates your hug immediately and pulls back to look down at you, “I know you didnt come all the way out here just cause you missed me”

You pull away from the hug and look up at sam “no I didn't…Dean told me…about Ruby” 

“What about her?” He asks defensively

“Sam shes a-” You start

He quickly interrupts you, “All she's done is help us. She's never lied to us…never given us a reason to distrust her-”

“She's a demon, that should be enough reason” You state firmly

“She's helping me be stronger, I can kill demons like nothing..this is good, why can't you see that” He tries to justify

You start getting frustrated with him. Has he always been this stubborn? “You don't know what it could do to you! Sure you can kill demons now but you don't know the long term effects.”

Sam looks away with anger, not knowing how to respond.

You move and force him to meet your eyes “You know I'm right sam. I don't want you to get hurt…I care about you….youre still my best friend”

Sam still doesn't meet your gaze, he's still angry but his features soften when you express your concern “I'm finally strong enough”

You sigh frustrated, “You've always been strong, your built like a damn moose…I know you're trying to do what's right…it's always what you're trying to do…but I don’t think this is right”

He quickly gets angry again, “How do you know what's right…you don't know what's going on…I haven't talked to you in years and you show up telling me what to do with my life…I don't need your guidance…go back to your picket fence and perfect green yard.”

Your jaw drops at his harsh words “Sam…you don't mean that” 

He looks away from you defiantly, refusing to respond

This time you don't try and meet his gaze, “Fine…you know I thought maybe we could start talking again…but I guess you want nothing to do with me…Dean was right…this Ruby is no good for you…you would have never been this mean to me, or Dean…you should listen to him…I get you don't value my opinion, i've been gone, but dean has been with you this whole time–and he's usually right” 

Sam continues to avoid your gaze “goodbye” he says curtly.

You sigh and except he isn't gonna change his opinion on this, “Wow ok… goodbye sam…call me when you realize how wrong you are”

You start to reach out to hug him goodbye but awkwardly retract your arms and step outside to hug dean goodbye then you head back home. You had hoped Sam was better than this, that dean was worried over nothing. God you wish it was nothing, but this is bad, and it isn't gonna end well. You know Sam wont listen to you, he's in too deep, you just hope he'll listen to dean and dean will keep you updated.

ok I think I'm gonna make this a series um sorry if there are any typos please give me tips

also should it stay platonic or do we want to see sam and reader get together let me know

hope y'all enjoyed<333

@uranometrias

[inkieflame]

ZITS are all immortal.

They all made the ruin structures.

Ruin Down portals? Someone got lost, and had to build another portal to get faster travel back to group.

Buried Treasure? Tango hid one of the others’ stuff and they all went searching to never find it again.. He always feel so bad.. for a bit.

Sand Temples? Skizz made them as shines to Impulse. No, Impulse isn’t a creeper hybrid. Why did he chiseled Creeper heads on the sand stone?? “It looks GOOD! Off my back, Dipple Dop!” And why in the desert? “You’re hot! ;)” “Tango is literally on fire.” “But only you make me dry in the mouth” Confused noises, flustered noises, insulted noises

The Jungle Temple: The first attempts with redstone. ZIT learned a lot and got sentimental to keep them there. Skizz forgot everything.

As Impy is a dragon, so they made the strongholds to ensure that he can go home whenever he wants. (I’ve heard that he doesn’t like horns, heard that he changed his mind, he said it’s fine but the way he said it sounded like he minds— no straight answers, haven’t found proof of any of this: so I’m just assuming that he’s like Tango and doesn’t like being associated with demon regalia, so dragon instead, still horns and parts but more cooler!)

Zedaph made the underwater monument because he wanted to see if he could. Tango and Impulse worked together on the guardians, the literal, and this is canon to Minecraft, robots. Skizz was happy to be Zed’s lab rat. Especially as he can be sure that Tango doesn’t attempt to go in water. (They later made Tango basically immune to water, but not during that period)

And no, no one is sure how Tango is… still alive. Blazes don’t live forever. In fact, they have short life spans, that transfers over to the hybrids- but he’s still here! Skizz and Impulse, the immortal beings, don’t mention it as they are afraid that if they say something, it’ll magically correct itself and he falls over dead like a Cartoon.

Zed is still here because there isn’t thing he hadn’t experimented with. And his main thing to experiment on is himself. So, they just agree that Death is afraid of him. That or he altered his DNA so much that he made himself immortal. The Goat/Sheep thing- He was originally a white goat, now he’s at least partly a pink sheep now- and no he didn’t use dyes to dye himself once he was sheep no- he’s terrifying. And no, Zed did not make Tango immortal. Mr. Tek let’s Zed do so much to him but definitely not enough to accomplish what Zed did to himself.

No one knows

Well

Tango does. But he finds it funny to not say why.

Anon this is absolutely hilarious. I would watch a whole sitcom based around these four immortals and their shenanigans XD

[harleykeeners]

how can I fear any hurricane? (my life was a storm since I was born)

Evan Buckley has always dealt with big emotions. However, none on the positive scale. Maybe for once something will change. 

-

Evan Buckley could count the number of people he’s felt truly loved by on one hand. His most confident one was easily Maddie, followed by Bobby, Christopher, and Jee. He noticed how half of that list consisted of people without fully developed frontal lobes, and he fears it would be shortened once the children came of age. He was too young to remember Daniel, but he likes to think he would have loved his older brother, however, that isn’t enough evidence to be added to the list. So for now, Evan Buckley is loved by four people. He notes how his parents should be on that list. Key word: should. The sinking realization he had when his mother looked at him with such disgust at Maddie’s dinner table quickly removed both of them from his mental list. A thick black line crossed over their names. He tries to not eat off Maddie’s table anymore, the mood sours the food. 

More under cut

Of course, the 118 loves him, however it often feels conditional. When Buck messes up, he feels like a wounded dog being called bad. Sometimes, he feels like he isn’t allowed to make mistakes with them. His rationale doesn’t allow him to believe that many people could love him, it isn’t right. The 118 care for him, they like him, but Buck doesn’t think they love him. At least, not in the way his list of four do.

Previous relationships were nothing past the surface for Buck. An attempt was made with Abby, but that resulted in him being left high and dry, forcing himself to stare through glass doors at the airport, watching her walk out of his life with nothing in her heart for him. 

He was told ‘never to cross the glass doors.’ He still hasn’t. 

Evan Buckley had since then given up the idea that he was lovable. It was different with children, different with Christopher and Jee. To them, Buck was a superhero. They were too young to carry his baggage, to see the scars littered across his chest and heart, and too young to see him for the broken man he pretends not to be. Buck loves them both, but the fear that one day they will truly see him frightens him. 

That is what Evan Buckley has told himself. That is what Evan Buckley knows to be true. That is what Evan Buckley believed… until Tommy kissed him in his kitchen. 

“Are you with me?” a voice asks as it snaps him back to the present. In the darkness, illuminated by only a bedside lamp, Tommy lays on his side, hand resting softly against Buck’s cheek, cradling his face. “You went somewhere, just now.” 

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around what you just said,” Buck whispers, words only for him and Tommy to hear. He’s never felt so warm, so close, so safe. It’s such a 180 from his previous relationships. Buck equates some of that to the fact that this is his first time with a man, but it goes deeper than that. Right here, with Tommy, feels different than the rest. He’s always known that. From the moment Tommy first kissed him, Buck knew it would be different. 

“Did I say it too soon?” Tommy says, and Buck stops thinking to study his face. Chiseled, and strong, with his stubble that pokes the pillow Buck can’t help but be mesmerized by him. Was this what it felt like, to be held? Buck wouldn’t know, no one had ever wrapped their arms around him and told him he was safe. He’s been that person for many people, but sometimes a man wants to fall apart. 

Buck often wants to fall apart.

“Did I ever tell you about my brother?” he asks, avoiding Tommy’s question. “I thought it was just you and Maddie?” Buck shakes his head and breathes as he repositions himself between Tommy’s arms. He doesn’t even have to ask as Tommy wraps his biceps around his chest, placing his hands over his heart. 

“He died before I could remember him.” Tommy tightens his grip around him, securing him in bed. “I never knew about him till a few years ago. Turns out it was cancer,” he stops. That word, cancer, makes the situation all the more real. Not some blaze of glory death like a lighting strike or meteor ball, but the slow painful thief of life that Buck couldn’t stop. He doesn’t know why he’s telling Tommy this, he just wants to. It’s not him looking for pity, or words of comfort. He just wants Tommy to know everything he can about him, because selfishly, Buck wants the same. The good, the bad, the nightmares that haunt him, Buck wants to hold Tommy’s heart and soul in his hands. 

Not many people know about Daniel, none of his exes do, and maybe that’s why he wants to tell Tommy. He wants this to be different. He wants it to count. 

“Do you miss him?” Tommy asks, making Buck think. Can he miss someone he didn’t know? Was it possible? He recalls how Bobby often misses God, so it must be. “Sometimes. I think so. When I was struck by lightning last year, my coma left me in this weird dream, almost like a parallel universe,” now he can’t shut his mouth. Not even Bobby knows about it, but something about the low glow of the lamp and Tommy’s cologne that lingers on the sheets makes Buck want to spill his guts.  “It was all kinds of messed up, but the one thing that brought me joy was seeing my brother. He was all grown up and…” his voice cracks a little. 

‘This is so stupid’, he thinks. ‘Tommy does not want to hear about my dead brother right now. I need to stop avoiding the elephant in the room’

“Did it make you happy to see him?” Forcing his voice to straighten out, Buck lets out a shaky breath as he looks up at Tommy and sees him actively listening. “Yeah, it did. It felt like I had someone who truly loved me. I know it sounds weird, but I’m not close with my family, aside from Maddie,” “That’s not weird,” he feels Tommy’s voice get closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of Buck’s neck. God, everything about him consumes Buck. He never wants him to let go.

“It sounds like you haven’t always had it easy,” Tommy says between kisses on Buck’s shoulders and neck. “But I meant what I said,” the kisses stop and Buck is spun around to face Tommy. “I love you, every part of you,” he pauses and looks at Buck, truly looking at him for a minute before saying, “and whatever baggage you're willing to let me carry for you, I will.”  

‘It’s too much’, Buck thinks. However, when in his life is it not? He’s never had it easy, he doesn’t think he ever will. Since he could walk, Buck’s life has been nothing short of a storm. He can barely count the number of people who love him  and he has much less wins in his arsenal as well. So maybe, just this once, he shouldn't be afraid. This feeling, this ever-consuming feeling he gets when he hears Tommy speak, will never go away. He doesn’t want it to, it’s for once something he wishes to hold. Looking at his eyes, then down to his lips, Buck tries to reciprocate. The kiss is softer than usual, tender in ways unfamiliar to Buck. Unfamiliar but not unwanted. 

“No one’s ever offered that before,” he says. “Then let me be your first and last, because you are something I’m sure about you,” Tommy says, pressing another kiss to his lips in a manner somehow more gentle than before. Buck wants to cry. 

Halfway through another kiss, Buck realizes he should probably answer him. “I love you, too.” Maybe it’s not as scary as he thinks. His list grows to five.

[slater-baby]

Texas Red Update!!

Okay guys let's FINALLY address the elephant in the room. First of all, I wanna get your most burning question out of the way: I HAVE BEEN WRITING IT THIS WHOLE TIME LMAO Like I said, I don't abandon works. I might let them sit for a while, but I have never thought of abandoning Texas Red, nor will I ever. That being said, however, I have some relatively important reasons for not having released the next chapter yet. Here they are so that you guys understand!!!

Okay so, in terms of story creation, we've gotten through the first arc. We're entering the second (which will have some important changes to the first). However, for those of you that aren't aware, I've written Texas red entirely without any planning. Everything you've read thus far? Made it up as I went along lmao. Usually, it can work out pretty well. However, we've reached a part of the story where there actually needs to be concrete plans and resolutions, and I hit a goddamn wall on that front.

I changed the ending of the book (and, yes, it's literally novel length already--my estimates place the final word count somewhere between 250-350K words in total). My original thoughts about what the ending were had to change given what was already written, so.....basically had to refigure how I'm gonna get us from point A to point B in the story. NOTHING ABOUT WHATS ALREADY WRITTEN HAS CHANGED!! It's only future events that I've had to reconsider.

Idk if any of you have picked up on the messaging I'm trying to convey through the characters just yet, but in the second act, the theme of the story is a BIG, BIG thing!! Like, it's both fun, exciting, adventurous, and complicated. On one hand, it's going to be a lot of action, but on the other, it requires creating caricatures I've never considered before--mostly in reference to moral concepts.

My real life is HELLA complicated. Writing isn't what I do for a living, and sometimes, finding the time to be online is pretty difficult. Basically, I'm busy as fuck, this year is crazy for me, and I've been dealing with helllaaaaaa writer's block.

So there you have it folks!! There is good news though. Why, you might ask yourself, did I wait so long to make this post? Why didn't I make this post like a month ago? Well, I have an answer for you.

Chapter 20 will be released VERY soon!

I've rewritten it several times over, still don't exactly like where it is right now, but this chapter has been a huge work in progress. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to things like this, and I'm not going to release a story/chapter to all of you people if I don't believe in it. Your passion and support guys are my biggest motivation for writing, and to do that enthusiasm justice, I won't lie to you if I think my own story craft isn't up to par.

So, in short, I'm sorry for making y'all wait this long, but!!!

We are back!!

[apomaro-mellow]

The Road to You 1/? Read on AO3

Another one from the steddie fic adoption community!

A lot of things happen after beating the Upside Down for good. Somehow the most surprising part of it all for Steve is becoming Eddie's roadie.

“They’re singing about infidelity, Stevennnn.”

“Play the tape again and actually listen to it. They’re singing about how they’re not gonna cheat.”

Eddie was laid up in a hospital bed. The stereo was seated on the table next him and Steve in the chair next to the bed. Robin was in a chair at the far end, her feet propped up onto the edge of the bed. All three of them were eating jello.

“They said they’d marry this chick if they were free. What d’you make of that?”

“IF they were free. IF”, Steve said, finger wagging to make his point. “They wanna marry Girl #1 but they’re gonna stay loyal to Girl #2, their wife.”

“See, it’s the fact you think this hussy they’re singing to is Girl #1. Why isn’t Girl #1 the wife? Pretty reductive if you ask me, wouldn’t you agree, Bucks?”

Robin snorted. “You just called one of them a hussy, so I’d find that pretty reductive. If we really wanna get into it, let’s talk about the women in this song. One’s living in a loveless marriage and the other’s got this guy pining after her, basically telling her, he’d leave his wife for her.”

“It’s Bay City Rollers, you guys. It’s not supposed to be a sad song”, Steve said.

“Copacabana is an upbeat song and it’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard”, Robin said while Eddie nodded in agreement.

Steve threw his hands up and his eyes went to the sky. “What’s sad about Copacabana? You literally can’t sing it without dancing.”

“Steeeve Harrington dancing to Barry Manilow? This I gotta see”, Eddie said, searching through the tapes that were sitting by his legs. 

“Don’t have the tape, but apparently Steve knows all the words”, Robin grinned.

“Don’t challenge me with a good time Robin”, Steve said. “It’s about a club in Havana.”

“It’s about what happens IN that club. Go ahead”, Robin urged. “Start from the part about Rico.”

Steve hummed the tune, starting from the first chorus. “~His name was Rico~He wore a diamond~” He mumbled through more of it, shimmying a little in his chair as he went through the song. “Hm~hm~called her over~But Rico went a bit to far~Tony sailed across the bar…holy shit.”

“You get it yet?”, Eddie grinned.

“Tony got shot!”

“That’s not something you’d like to hear in a hospital”, Dr. Hudson said. She came to the empty side of Eddie’s bed.

Eddie might’ve thought twice about letting himself be bat bait if he knew how much recovery he’d need. He’d still do it, but he’d at least give it a second thought. Doing so meant two weeks in a coma, extensive surgery and another two weeks basically strapped to a bed after that. And of course, in all that time, he was banned from eating all the things that made him happy. All his nutrients were from a tube. Today was the first time they let him eat anything solid in a whole month.

Steve and Robin got out of the way for his check up. They weren’t expecting much of a change. Eddie was healing, but it would be slow. Steve still had to change his bandages. He could go longer without a change than he needed weeks ago, but still, his sides were fragile. Every time he visited Eddie, he was shown how much worse it could have been had he and the others not arrived in time to save him.

Life had gone back to a weird sort of normal for Hawkins after beating Vecna. An earthquake explained away everything but people still left and there were plenty who still stayed in shelters, having been displaced from their homes. School held out for the rest of April, but it was decided that since the senior graduation was set for May, they may as well let out the schools then, just to have more space for the people living in the gym of Hawkins High. Doing this would also open up the middle school for shelter space too.

No one had brought up graduation around Eddie. Steve and Robin talked about it a lot, mostly to help her work through what she was going to do after. She’d been accepted to three colleges. But fall seemed so far away and she couldn’t imagine leaving Hawkins right now. Especially when Steve himself didn’t seem to have any plans.

Family Video had been miraculously spared from the damage. They’d quit in unison anyway. It all just seemed so trivial in the aftermath. Robin had asked what Steve was going to do once she went off to college. He’d given her a joke of an answer but she knew how to read between the lines. She knew he had no plans beyond what he did each day. And that worried her. Made her feel like if she left, he’d fall apart.

Sometimes it felt like the two of them against the world. If that was true, maybe he wouldn’t be opposed to following her to college? The idea seemed novel, almost romantic, and it would definitely give people the wrong idea but she didn’t care.

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

After dropping Robin off, Steve got to his house. He could hear his mother’s heels clicking on the wooden floors and her berating someone before he even opened the door. He sighed before opening it just in time to see her slam the phone back onto the hook.

“Unbelievable!”, she said to herself, hands on her hips before she realized Steve was home. Then she turned the conversation towards him. “Well we can’t sell the house. The market is in shambles.”

“The inspector said our house is fine though, right?”, Steve asked.

“No one will buy a house in a town of murders! That Munson boy has ruined what little dignity Hawkins had.” She shook her head. “We’ve always been too good for this town and now we can’t leave.”

“What about the cabin?”

“Steven, that’s a vacation home. It’s not meant to be a permanent residence.” She sighed just as Steve’s father came downstairs, loosening his tie.

“Sounds like bad news from the realtor.”

“I’m not taking that price. I’ll burn this house down with all of us in it before I take that insult!”, his mother shouted, walking off and into the living room. His dad followed, already starting to soothe her.

Steve headed straight to the kitchen. Jello could only satisfy one so much. He could hear his parents talking, but not make out the words. He stopped mentioning how lucky they were to still have their house, to be alive, and that Eddie wasn’t responsible for any of this. His parents didn’t care about any of that. He made two quick sandwiches, grabbed a bag of chips and a soda and disappeared into his room, lest his father ask about his job prospects again.

Standing behind a counter again didn’t sound appealing. And he knew his dad was getting to the point where he might just give him a job, but standing behind a desk wasn’t what he wanted either. Steve didn’t know what he wanted. He knew what he liked. He knew what made him happy. Somehow, talking to Eddie almost everyday became one of those things. But no one was paying him to talk to his friends.

But for now, spring would be turning into summer soon. Steve could focus on that, Eddie’s recovery, Robin’s college prep, and helping turn the freshies into sophomores. The Upside Down was gone, all the monsters were dead and all his friends were alive. Life couldn’t throw anymore curveballs his way. Right?

Part 2 coming soon

[clairewritesandrambles]

'Tis the Damn Season - Scott Miller

Summary: After the dissolution of your long-term relationship, you find yourself starting over in your hometown. When you see your childhood best friend, Scott, for the first time in years, how will things change between the two of you?

Pairing: Scott Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY), cheating (not involving the main pairing), anxiety, negative self-talk about the reader's body, nosy small town people, rough-ish sex (nothing crazy), choking, talk about deepthroating, Scott is 31 years old

A/N: Only a month late lol, sorry everybody. I really hope it's worth the wait. Thank you to @hederasgarden for beta-ing!

Music flowed softly through your room as you completed the finishing touches of your outfit. You had spent years dreading your mother's Christmas parties with her friends, having been forced to spend too many with her as a teenager instead of hanging out with your friends. This was the first year in a long time that you were truly looking forward to spending time with your mother, though you knew this would be the worst year for the looks and comments from her friends curious about your return to her house.

The faint sound of a knock at the door sounded through the house, followed quickly by the low rumble of voices as your mother greeted whoever it was. Probably just one of her friends from work, who would smile when they saw you and make dull small talk before getting that sickly curious look in their eye as they ask what you were doing back. It never took long for people in your town to dig for gossip.

You took a step back to look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, mentally steeling yourself for the prying questions that would be coming, just the idea of the attention being enough to churn your stomach with anxiety. With one last deep breath you headed down the stairs, your mind already drifting to the bottle of wine in the fridge that awaited.

You jumped back in surprise when you turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, very nearly running into the back of someone from how distracted you had been. You let out a soft apology, making a move to go around the woman before you realized who it was.

"Mrs. Miller!" You exclaimed as she smiled back at you, clearly as surprised to see you as you were to see her. "Mom didn't tell me that you were coming."

"Oh, hello, dear!" She squealed. "I heard you were home, but I had to come and see for myself." She pulled you in for a tight hug, her hands comfortingly rubbing your back as she continued. "How have things been?"

Tears stung your eyes at her question, your stomach tightening in response. The sincerity in her voice had become so foreign in the last couple of months, with most people more concerned with the drama than the emotions of your involvement. If this had been anyone else, you were sure that it would have been void of emotion.

Whether they asked or not, Mrs. Miller was the only one of your mother's friends who could coax this response from you. She and her house had become a second home during your childhood, as familiar as your own from years of going over to hang out with Scott. When you had been too nervous to tell your mother about your first date in high school, it was Mrs. Miller that you went to for help. You knew that in this moment she was not seeing an example of the insidious gossip that your town loved, but instead, her unofficial daughter trying to come to terms with the recent events.

"I'm getting through it." You assured her, voice shaking even as you tried to put on a brave face. The truth was that you were over what had happened, but were still struggling with the loss of the life you had been steadily building for years. The recovery period had been a deeper trench than you anticipated, the steep edges covering your mind in shadow despite the presence of light in the distance.

Her eyes crinkled as she offered you a soft smile. "You will. You've always been resilient." She slipped her arm into yours as she continued, directing you towards the kitchen while she spoke. "I still remember the time Scott accidentally flipped you off that glider swing in my backyard. I was having a heart attack thinking you broke your face from the blood coming out of your lip, meanwhile, you were chasing him down to shove his face in the dirt as revenge."

"Well, someone had to do it. He was always a bit of an-" You were caught by surprise as you turned the corner into the kitchen, the rest of your words catching in your throat.

Scott was leaning against your mother's cupboards, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he made small talk with another of your mother's friends. His hair had grown since the last time you saw him, the tips of his dark waves brushing the nape of his neck. The black sweater he had on gave him a more polished look than you were used to. Scott had always been an outfit repeater, most of his casual sweaters worn to the point of holes. But this one looked almost brand new, closer to the perfect preparation of his work clothes.

It was like he was simultaneously identical to your memory and the polar opposite.

He seemed to be having a similar train of thought as his eyes flicked to you, his hand unconsciously tightening on his glass. His eyes roamed over you before his lips thinned into a straight line, the closest to a friendly smile he could muster on most days. A stranger may have taken his expression as one of apathy, but your years of experience told you that he was feeling the same mix of excitement and anxiety that had overtaken your stomach.

"Hey, you," he said, his chest rising and falling in a nervous breath as he straightened his posture.

You glanced at his mother quickly, noting her small smirk as her eyes flicked between you too, before you stepped closer to him. "Hey. I didn't realize that you were coming."

"I didn't realize you were either. Probably should've caught on when that one," he explained, pointing over your shoulder to his mother's retreating form, "insisted that I make an appearance."

Despite the ball of anxiety keeping every part of you on edge, you couldn't help but laugh at the story. Of course, she had made him come. Mrs. Miller had made it her life's mission to keep you two as close as possible. Maybe if both of you hadn't left your hometown, things wouldn't be as awkward as they currently were.

Scott's eyes roved around the room, before landing on the open space next to you as he furrowed his brows. He was clearly noticing the lack of your usual shadow at these events, your solitary form contrasting with his usual view.

Thankfully, before he could open his mouth to point out the absence, your mother's friend interjected. "Oh! So this is the Scott your mom says you were always running around with."

Scott gave a sarcastic smile in return, one of the ones that never met his eyes. "The one and only."

You offered a small smile to her, an apologetic look on your face. "I'm sorry about him. We only let him out of his cage once a year, so he's bad at the whole 'socializing' thing."

The soft smirk on Scott's face weakened the grip of anxiety on your body, a small reminder that the decay of time was not as fast as you had thought.

The moment of relief was short-lived though, as your mother's friend immediately turned to you after a short laugh and sobered her expression. "I was so surprised to hear that you were back home. None of us ever imagined you'd end up back here, given how good things seemed to be going."

Neither had you. This was the moment you had been so worried about; when people would go out of their way to remind you of your fall from grace. You were no longer the girl who had escaped your small town; instead, you were only another one who had failed.

"Yeah, well, I guess everything happens for a reason!" You replied, trying desperately to ignore Scott's confused look in your periphery. While it was difficult, you could handle the comments and judgment from near strangers. You wouldn't be able to handle it from him. Knowing that he was doing exactly what he had always set out to do, simultaneously running a business in Oklahoma while living in Massachusetts for the other part of the year. Meanwhile, you had none of the things you had set out with: no partner, no job, no house.

"Still, it must be hard. All those years..." Your chest shuddered at her words, Scott's presence slowly suffocating you. You desperately needed a reason to rid yourself of both of them.

Per usual, it was your mother who rescued you. She shouted your name from somewhere outside of the kitchen, giving you the perfect opportunity to excuse yourself and run before either of them could continue the conversation.

You made a quick appearance at your mother's side, greeting one of her old friends who hadn't seen you in years. Then you claimed that you were going to get some food out of the basement freezer for her.

In the cool air of the basement, you could finally feel the claustrophobic hold on your lungs finally release. Your throat felt raw from withholding your emotions, eyes stinging once again with the threat of tears. You sucked in short, shaky breaths against your body's will, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of red eyes on your return.

You may have cracked in front of them, but you'd be damned if you were to let anyone from this town see you break.

Holy shit. You could not wait to leave this town. Again.

After you had finally walked yourself back from the brink of panic, you went upstairs with the intention of enjoying yourself for the rest of the party. Maybe if you put on a happy front, the questions would quiet.

But, if anything, that change seemed to have the opposite effect. It was like your mother's friends could see the cracks in your performance and were determined to shatter it.

After someone had finally truly breached the topic, commenting on how nice your ex had seemed, you finally reached your breaking point. You excused yourself without decorum, trudging your way to the covered porch at the back of the house.

The cool air settled the fire heating your skin as soon as you pushed the door open, a frustrated sound escaping your throat as it slammed behind you. Was it really that hard for people to have some empathy?

"Uh," Scott cleared his throat from the corner. You whipped around to face him, not even noticing that he had disappeared from the central group of people. You stepped back, acting like you had been trapped with a stranger rather than your lifelong best friend.

"What's wrong?"

You thought briefly of deflecting his question and running to your room for the rest of the holidays to avoid him. That was a terrible idea though, your mothers loved to spend most of their work break together and you would inevitably have to see him again.

"I just can't," you offered, gesturing wildly in the general direction of the party, "with them. I forgot how this town is."

Scott let out a sharp laugh. "Tell me about it."

The silence lulled between you two for a second, neither of you making a move towards actual conversation. "Sorry. I didn't realize you were out here, I can go if you want me to."

You had started moving towards the door in the middle of your sentence, but the tone of his words stopped you dead in your tracks. "No. I mean, uh, you can stay. If you want."

When you stayed stuck in place like a deer caught in headlights, he continued. "I'd like you to stay."

You shuffled towards him, your heart pounding in nervousness when he moved his now empty whiskey glass. He clearly expected you to sit next to him, and yet you reacted like he was a stranger performing the gesture instead of Scott.

"So, where's Kevin?" He asked, barely giving you a second to settle. "Didn't he used to always come to these things?"

You stared down at your hands in your lap, knowing that your slight deception had come back to bite you at last. "Oh, uh," you stuttered, "we broke up."

"What?" He asked, surging forward in his seat. "Since when?"

"October."

"And you didn't tell me?" Your eyes flitted to him briefly, returning back to their place of shame in your lap when you saw his expression. The corners of his lips were turned down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed at the fact you had kept this from him. "Is that why you're back here?"

You nodded solemnly, swallowing the lump in your throat at the memory of your breakup. "I meant to tell you. We just hadn't talked in so long, and I know you were busy... I just didn't know what to say."

When he didn't reply right away you looked back at him, noticing he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was his tell-tale bad habit that he was feeling as guilty as you about the lack of communication between you two for the past few years.

"What happened?" He asked, avoiding the tension between you for a bit longer.

You sighed at the question, your shoulders relaxing slightly as you focused more on the emotions associated with Kevin than the ones with Scott. You explained that a few years ago, when you stopped coming home as often and the beginning of the downfall of your friendship with Scott, was when it had begun.

Kevin and you had been together since sophomore year and it was only recently that you seemed to both realize the incompatibilities you had ignored for years. The fights had started small, arguments over dirty dishes and clothes. But soon they had begun to take over your relationship, both of you walking on eggshells around each other. Home became a prison of cold shoulders and snide comments, contrasted by your public image of being the high school sweethearts who had "made it."

As your relationship devolved, so did the worst qualities of Kevin that you had overlooked and excused for years. His jealousy and possessiveness became more noticeable, his actions becoming less about him wanting to be with you and more about not allowing you to exist without him. That was where the joke of him being your shadow at family events had come from. Eventually, he became paranoid enough that he didn't want to leave you alone with any men - including Scott. Slowly, the smile you had fallen in love with became a sinister smirk.

You had been so determined that you could fix things, not wanting to face the reality of starting over at your age, that you had gone along with it. Slowly, but surely, your actions became complementary to his desires. You stopped visiting home as often, calling and texting less with Scott to avoid Kevin's moods. You had even picked out a cheap engagement ring, giving in to the belief that it might fix things.

This performance went on for almost a year before you realized that you had simply been delaying the inevitable. You were trapped in your isolated life, hours from your family, and your last message to Scott buried months into your messages. You had even thought things were getting better, the arguments becoming less common.

Then you started finding her things around the house. You had noticed the longer work hours, but it wasn't until you found the out-of-place hairs in your bed after a weekend away that you had to face the truth. Every trip brought a new discovery: a false eyelash, a mismatched hair tie, an unfamiliar toothbrush. But it wasn't until you had seen the necklace box, one you had mentioned wanting for years, marked with a name that wasn't yours that you finally had enough.

That was the weekend you left your ring on his coffee table and moved home. You had let him keep the lease, just wanting to rid yourself of all ties to him as quickly as you could. Now, you wished you had fought for it a bit more. At least you wouldn't have started completely back at square one.

You left out any mentions of his role in your relationship as you recalled the breakdown to Scott, not wanting to expose the full depths of your weakness just yet. You knew that he didn’t struggle with the constant self-doubt that you did, but you still worried about the implications of the statement. After such a rocky recent past, you didn’t want to risk it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Scott spat, his face curdled into a look of disgust. "I always thought he wasn't good enough for you, but I did not realize he was that much of a piece of shit."

You laughed humourlessly at his words, nodding slightly. "Neither did I."

"I can hit him with my car if you want." He offered, shrugging casually. "Off the record, of course."

You choked on laughter at his joke, seeing a small smile on his face at the success. There was a stark difference between his earlier smile towards your mother's friend, the one he always offered strangers, and the one currently breaking through. This smile was almost always only reserved for you and his mother, actually allowing it to soften his eyes at the same time instead of staying apathetic.

"You really do deserve better, though." He said, pausing to make eye contact. "You're too great to be wasting time with losers like Kevin."

You thought of putting on the usual brave face you made when people fed you these lines but decided to stick with the open nature of your conversation instead. It had been too long since you'd talked to Scott like this. You had missed his honesty.

"Scott, I need you to be real right now. No one wants someone who looks like me and I am completely starting over right now. No one even wants me, much less wants me enough to treat me better." You cringed slightly even as you spoke the words, that inner voice warning you about appearing as a burden. He was no stranger to your insecurities about your body, yet you couldn't help but feel like you still had to hide your feelings.

Scott rolled his eyes slightly at you, more out of disbelief than actual annoyance. "Well, anyone who lets a bit of softness get to them probably doesn't know how to treat you well anyway. Someone wants you."

"Oh yeah?" You prodded. "Like who?"

Scott's eyes snapped to yours at your question, charged tension quickly crackling through the air. Neither of you moved or spoke, an unspoken suggestion hanging thickly in the middle.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Your mother asked, throwing open the door just as Scott had opened his mouth to speak. "Stop being shy and get back in here!"

You sighed deeply as you rolled over in bed once again, a listless glance at the clock telling you it had only been five minutes since the last time you checked. Normally, your room felt like a sanctuary from the realities of life, but now it felt more like a cage.

The party had finally died down around 11pm, but given the amount of drinking that both Millers had partaken in, your mother insisted that they stayed the night. So instead of having the distance to come to your own conclusions about the meaning behind Scott's glances after your conversation, you had to lay in bed with the thoughts while he was on the couch one floor below you.

Had you imagined the longing in his gaze throughout the rest of the night? The usual insecurities crawled into your mind, running over any optimism that bubbled to the surface. Sure, Scott had put up with you all these years but there was a difference between the platonic nature of your relationship and the romantic look you had clearly hallucinated. Maybe the loneliness of the past few years had finally broken you; the fragments of your mind clinging onto any semblance of affection to try and glue themselves back together.

Even if you had seen the truth, did it even matter? Your friendship with Scott had been one of the greatest constants of your life and after such a shaky time, did you think either of you would be willing to take that risk? You had ignored your feelings for him in your teenage years for the same reason, not wanting to wager his friendship on the chance of love, instead running to the safer option of Kevin.

Would it be worth it for the stares, even if something did happen? The empathetic hunger of your town could run for months, but would they turn on you if they thought you moved on too quickly? You had seen the insidious nature of the gossip surrounding women who moved on in your town, their names inevitably always coming into questions of character. It had been months since you had his ring on your finger, and years since either of you had been truly happy, but no one else knew that. To them, you'd be the girl who had broken the heart of the golden boy and moved on with the man who had always been there. You had never been in love with Scott while you were with Kevin, but if you acted on these resurrected feelings you knew how it would appear. Kevin would gloat to everyone that he knew and you would see the worst of small towns.

But it was also too hard to ignore his presence after his earlier implications, knowing that you could have answers if you just went down the stairs.

You threw your blankets off with a grunt, ignoring the voice in the back of your mind as you grabbed an old pair of sweatpants from your dresser and headed down the stairs. The house had been quiet for an hour, so you didn't feel too worried about being interrupted by either of your mothers.

You faltered briefly at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly considering that he may have already fallen asleep. But then you saw the faint glow of the television and knew that meant he was still awake. You moved towards it cautiously, hands fumbling with the waistband of the sweats.

Scott was reclined on the couch when you turned the corner, scrolling aimlessly on his phone as he readjusted the waistband of his jeans. He looked up at you in surprise when he noticed your movement, an eyebrow arching wordlessly at you.

"Umm," you paused, mentally smacking yourself for acting like you had been caught with drugs rather than having deliberately walked down here to talk to him. "Here." You stuck the pants out at him before continuing, still not seeming able to form full sentences. "I thought your jeans might be uncomfortable for a full night."

You could see the moment a sarcastic comment about your stunted words came to his mind, his eyes lighting up at the same time his lips curved upwards in a playful smirk. Mercifully, however, he settled for placing his hand over his heart in fake admiration.

"My hero!" He exclaimed, taking the pants from your outstretched hand. He had probably forgotten you even had an old pair of his, most likely a relic of a party where you had crashed at his place and, like usual, always forgot something to sleep in. You had even forgotten you still had some of his clothes until you had packed your life into boxes.

You continued your awkward streak by lingering, trying to think of how to broach the subject of interest. Scott raised his eyebrows at you expectedly, pursing his lips slightly at your behaviour. "Did you change your mind about the car or something? Why are you acting so nervous?"

You chewed on your lip for a second, looking for a lie that would allow you to escape back to your room, but deciding to sit on the couch and speak before you could change your mind again.

"What did you mean earlier?" You asked, continuing when he furrowed his brows. "When you said that someone wants me?"

"Oh," he said, chewing the inside of his cheek again, "that."

He offered no further explanation, looking anywhere that wasn't your face as he stalled for time.

"Scott," you prodded when the silence had lingered for too long.

"I just don't want to ruin anything," he said, bringing his gaze to meet yours. "I didn't even expect to see you while I was here, much less almost spilling my guts about everything."

When you didn't respond he groaned and pouted slightly. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Listen, Scott, I didn't expect anything like this to happen now either. But I'm finally single for the first time in years, so yes. I'd like to know why you said that to me after all this time." Your chest shuddered slightly in the tension of the moment, feeling like someone was pulling your lungs closed. "It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to, but I want to know."

"Maybe I want it to mean something," he countered, "I haven't spent my entire life loving you just for it to mean nothing to either of us. I know that someone wants you because I’m that person."

He continued when you didn't respond, too shocked even despite the clues from earlier. "I have been hopelessly in love with you for as long as I can remember. That's why I didn't text you when I noticed you were pulling away. I spent years watching you love someone else from the sidelines because I had been too scared to tell you the truth in our teens, so when you stopped calling as often... I thought maybe it would be easier for me."

"Wait," you interjected, "it's been that long?" How had you missed all the signs for so many years? You thought you knew all of Scott's hidden tells, the smallest changes in his body language and tone of voice always betraying the emotions he often tried to hide. Yet, you had been blind to this emotion for so many years.

"Yes, that long." He replied, holding an accusative finger up when you opened your mouth to speak again. "If you even think about giving me some made-up reasons about why you think I shouldn't love you, I swear."

You clamped your mouth shut in response, a small part of you reveling in the knowledge that he knew you just as well as you knew him.

"I was terrified of ruining our friendship, so I never told you. I guess I thought it was better to have you as a friend than not have you at all, but watching you love him was agony." He continued, leaning ever closer to you. "Not just because I didn't have you, but because I could see that he never loved you back the way you deserved. He never appreciated the parts of you that needed it most, the ones that I know you were thinking about earlier."

"Like what?" Your breathing was coming out in small bursts now, the strength of his words stealing it from your chest.

"All of them. I loved hanging out alone with you because you didn't hide your body the same way you do in public. I loved getting to hear you laugh without thinking about its volume, I just loved all the parts you felt like you had to hide."

"Fuck, I even loved when you'd get nervous about something and pick the skin around your thumbs. I knew it was a bad habit that you hated about yourself, but I couldn't take my eyes off of you when you did it."

You looked down at your hands, the picked skin around your nails glaring back at you. It had always been a habit you hated about yourself, but you never realized someone else noticed you doing it. Any time you had brought it up to Kevin over the years, he always seemed surprised that you did it.

When you turned your head back to Scott, you became suddenly aware of how much space had disappeared between the two of you over the course of your conversation. Scott's thigh was pressed against yours, your noses brushing together when you looked up at him.

His eye contact was unblinking as his chest rose and fell deeply while he gazed at you. "If you don't feel the same, that's fine. But I've got to be honest, I don't know if I can go back to acting like this never happened." He licked his bottom lip slightly as his eyes fell to yours. "I haven't thought of a future without you in years, you've always been it for me. So if you don't want this-"

Additional words died in his throat when you moved your head to connect your lips to his, a desperate sound escaping his mouth instead. It was a quick moment of passion, your head pulling back almost as suddenly as it had moved forward.

Scott's lips followed yours needily, only reluctantly breaking the kiss when he could no longer hold it. His forehead rested on yours while you both breathed deeply, neither of you opening your eyes. You rested like this for a brief, charged moment, your mind racing to catch up with the actions of the body.

Fuck it. You had spent too long being a slave to your own expectations and playing it safe to let this moment pass you.

You pulled Scott's mouth back into yours, the long-dead butterflies in your stomach stirring in response. Kissing him was like slotting the final piece into a puzzle that had been plaguing you for years: a mix of excitement and confusion about how it took you so long to find it. Now that you had tasted him, you would have starved if you couldn't have him again.

Scott kissed you passionately, his strong arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into him like he wanted the feeling of your skin tattooed on him for the rest of his life. His calloused hands ran trails of shivers over your skin as they caressed the skin below your top, moving slowly like he intended to commit every part of you to memory tonight.

"You are so fucking beautiful, baby." He whispered when you pulled back for a short breath, a shaky laugh of disbelief escaping his lips. "I think I could die happy right now."

You giggled at him, the euphoria of the night making your head spin. Every action and word from him felt like it was setting you aglow and making every fibre of your being yearn for more. Scott wasn't the first man to call you beautiful or touch your body, but it had been so long since you had felt passion behind them that they struck even deeper.

He smiled softly at your laugh, leaning in for another taste of your lips. You pushed him back in a small surge of confidence, straddling his lap. You usually avoided any position that put you at a higher angle, but the look of awe on Scott's face erased any lingering worries about unflattering angles.

Every graze of his body against yours stoked the fire building within, making you push even closer to him to try and quell the increasing desire. His hands continued to leave featherlight touches on your back, pebbling your skin with goosebumps. You hadn't felt this in years; the feeling of desire and being desired was so distant in your memory that it made your chest burn with emotion.

Scott peppered kisses down your throat, pausing to focus on a spot when a needy noise escaped your mouth. The attention in his touch made your body flutter in response, an uncontrollable roll of your hips brushing your thighs against the hardness of his lap.

"Did I make you hard?" You asked, pulling back to look down at the tent in his pants.

Scott flashed you an unapologetic smile. "I've been dreaming of this for thirty-one years, I'm excited." You couldn’t help the giddy laugh from your chest at his words. A part of you was still amazed at the idea that someone like him could actually be this attracted to you.

"There's no expectations though," he continued, pulling you back down to kiss him. "I'll wait as long as you want me to."

Your heart skipped a beat in response, affection for him warming your body. You bit your lip in slight anticipation as you let one of your hands trail down his chest to softly palm him through his pants.

"Oh," he breathed, head dropping against the back of the couch. "Fuck."

Spurred by his reaction, you applied a bit more pressure with your hand, your lips beginning to explore his jawline and neck. Every sigh and shift of his hips felt like a symphony, the blissed-out look on his face as he reveled in your touch striking down to your core.

As if he could sense the joy you were getting out of seeing him in this position, Scott's eyes opened slightly. You gave him a teasing smile in response, a small noise escaping your lips when he grabbed your jaw to pull you in for a bruising kiss. Your groans deepened when his hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. He held you like a drowning man on his last breath, like you might disappear if he loosened his grip too much.

You rolled your hips against his desperately, needily gasping when the tip of his cock rubbed your clit through your clothes. Suddenly, Scott gripped you tightly and threw you to your back on the couch. His body moved effortlessly with yours, an inhuman growl clawing its way out of his throat.

"I am going to lose my mind if you keep touching me like that," he panted, pulling back to look in your eyes. "If you don't want this, I want you to tell me right now, okay, baby? We can stop and just cuddle if that's what you want, but otherwise, I need to make sure the only name you remember is mine."

The way his blue eyes stared into your eyes as he checked on you, ensuring he wasn't overstepping your boundaries, might've just been one of the hottest things you had ever seen in your life.

"I really, really want this, Scott." You told him, guiding his hand to the soaked fabric of your bottoms. A low groan rumbled through him at the feeling, his fingers teasing your folds as he waited for those magic words. "Please, please touch me."

He lowered himself again to kiss you, a large hand groping at your breasts as you both, finally, gave in. Years of pent-up emotion and lust burst from your body, both of you a blur of searching hands and wandering lips as you rid yourselves of your tops.

"Fuck, wait." He sighed, pulling back slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "I don't have a condom."

"I'm on birth control and got a negative test after Kevin. I'm good if you are."

"Fuck," Scott moaned, lips wrapping your nipple as his fingers teased the other. "You're so fucking gorgeous. I could look at you all day."

You felt your face heat at his words, a denial on the tip of your tongue when he interrupted you.

"Do not even think about denying it." He grunted, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your body: the valley of your breasts, your stomach, your waist. "This is, quite literally, what my dreams are made of: your eyes, your smile, your tits, your tummy."

Scott continued his way down your body, stopping to punctuate every body part with a kiss. "And these thighs?" He continued, teeth sinking possessively into the flesh as you gasped and bucked your hips towards him in response. "I think they're my favourite."

Ragged breathes escaped at this point, his fingers teasing you relentlessly. He bit more marks into the insides of your thighs as he moved his fingers with purpose around your cunt, always coming close to giving you that touch you desired but darting away at the last second.

"Scott," you whined, a hand tugging impatiently at his hair.

"Hmm, what is it, baby?" The bastard had the audacity to smirk up at you from between your thighs, a smug glint reflecting in his eyes.

"I need you to touch me."

Scott hummed in response, the featherlight brush of his thumb against your clit enough to have you throwing your head back in pleasure. "I don't know if that was good enough..."

You huffed in annoyance, rolling your hips only to have him stop you with the grip of his hands on your thigh.

"C'mon, baby," he slurred, a cheek resting on your thigh as he looked at you. "Be a good girl and beg for what you want."

Normally, you'd probably have given him more pushback - but right now you felt like you might explode if you didn't get him soon. "Please touch me."

"Say my name."

"Please, Scott. I need your mouth, I need your tongue on my cunt right now. Please."

You could have cried in relief when you felt his fingers finally pull down your bottoms, a satisfied hum reverberating through your body as he kissed your clit quickly over the material.

"I always thought my name would sound prettier coming off those lips than 'Kevin,'" he said, wasting no time in licking a stripe through your folds that made you whimper his name again. "Now I know it's true."

You didn't even have time to open your mouth with a possible retort, all sensible thoughts freezing in their tracks as he wrapped his lips around your clit. You don't even want to think about how he got so good at oral, every movement stoking the flame in your lower belly like he had made you cum a thousand times. His lips and tongue worked in perfect tandem with each other, your face pressed into his pillow as he made you orgasm on two, and then three, fingers.

The hand not trying to stifle your noises with the pillow was threaded through his hair, teetering constantly between pulling his head closer to your core and pushing him away as he sent you hurtling towards a third orgasm. He hadn't even gotten his pants off yet, and you felt like your body was short-circuiting in pleasure.

Scott's tongue pushed into you, along with the three fingers he had already fit, another orgasm stealing the air from your lungs. You bit down on the pillow, wiggling helplessly against the grip around your thigh. You snuck a look at him between your legs, the sight enough to knock the little wind from you again

His dark hair was curling with sweat, the veins on his arm popping from the thrusting of his finger that hadn't ceased in minutes. His eyebrows furrowed together in focus on your pleasure, his groans sending aftershocks through your body as it vibrated your clit.

God, he was gorgeous.

Undoubtedly sensing your shameless staring, Scott's eyes opened to look at yours. His eyes were glazed over in pleasure, clearing having lost himself completely in the feeling of you. That shy voice inside of you whispered about the angle, but, for once, you couldn't hear it over the look of adoration in his eyes. Scott looked at you like he had a one-of-a-kind piece of art in front of him, not the face he had grown up with and, as you had always assumed, he would have grown bored of.

You smiled down at him, fingers threading through his hair to scratch at his scalp. If you had to, you think you could stay this entwined with him forever and be happy.

"Fuck, I can't stand it anymore. I need to fuck you, right now." Scott growled, finally pulling away from you to push his pants down his legs. You whimpered at the emptiness in their wake, clenching around nothing.

Not that you had to wait for long. Your mouth watered as you moved to your knees, watching as Scott’s cock was freed from his briefs and slapped against his stomach. The thick head was freely leaking pre-cum and all you wanted to do was wrap your lips around him and taste it.

"Take a picture; it'll last longer, " he teased, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he kissed you before pushing your face into the couch.

You pouted at him as he stood behind you, the tip of his cock pushing through the wetness coating your cunt. "You're not even going to give me a taste?"

"Mm, you want it that bad?" He asked, lightly slapping his head on your clit and making you jump.

"Please?" You begged, doing your best face for him.

He smiled at you, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull your back to his chest. "I promise next time I'll let you choke on my cock as much as you want, but right now I am barely holding on and I am not even inside of you yet."

You hummed in response, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I guess you just owe me then."

Scott smirked at you, his eyes telling you that he was already planning everything he'd do to you the next time he had you alone. "Now, are you going to be a good girl and be quiet for me or do I need to cover that pretty mouth with my hand?"

"I'd really like to say I'd be good, but I've got to be honest: I don't know if I can do that right now." Scott smiled at your confession, pressing one last sweet kiss to your lips before covering your mouth and pushing on your shoulder blades until your face was back on the cushions.

It only took a few thrusts for you to realize that you had made an excellent choice. Scott's half-bent-over angle to keep his hand around your mouth put him in the perfect spot to hit that mind-numbing spot inside of you. His other hand had a vice grip on the armrest, the shaky breaths behind you telling you that he was trying desperately to keep himself from losing it early.

You beckoned him closer to you, melting into his warmth as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The new angle had him moving in you in short, hard thrusts, bringing you to the precipice of another orgasm.

"Scott," you gasped, pulling his hand away from your mouth. "Please choke me."

He cursed under his breath, resting his body weight on his elbow as he gripped your throat and slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hips moved impossibly faster, combining with the pressure of his fingers on your clit to send your body into a frenzied orgasm, whimpering as your entire body shook with pleasure.

"Turn over for me, baby," Scott panted from behind you, hands already grasping at your hips. "I need to look at you while I fill you." Despite the hurried insistence of his words, Scott continued to take his time in his movements. His hand was gripping the base of his dripping cock to prevent himself from finishing, yet he couldn't stop himself from taking the extra seconds to slowly run his gaze over your body.

He finally leaned back down to kiss you, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock. A low chuckle rumbled through him at your frustrated grunts before taking mercy on you and pushing into you.

"Oh my god," you gasped, the stretch of him returning setting your entire body on fire. You had fully crossed into overstimulation by now, your senses completely enveloped by Scott's presence. The rest of the world had melted away, the only existence being the two of you on the couch.

"I know, baby," he said, kissing your throat. "You can take more though, right?" When you nodded in approval, he continued. "That's what I thought. Be a good girl for me and let me fill you up, okay, baby?"

Your sanity didn't stand a chance after that, everything blurring together as he kissed you. Your hands were all over each other, pulling each other as close as you could while his pelvis ground into your clit and wiped away the last of your coherent thoughts with near-constant orgasms.

It could have been seconds or hours before Scott grabbed your jaw, telling you to look him in the eyes while he came in you. His teeth were pulling at his bottom lip as he tried to quiet the moans making their way out of his throat as he reached his peak.

You were determined to commit the sight before you to memory: his head tipped back in ecstasy, mouth open as he tried to strangle the loud moan slipping through, thighs shaking with pleasure while he gripped yours so tightly you knew there would be finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. He dropped down into you too quickly, biting into your shoulder to quiet the noises he had now completely lost control over. His thrusts quickened, fucking himself through his orgasm, finally collapsing against you with a flurry of praises.

Neither of you moved after, content to just stay wrapped in each other's limbs for the moment. Scott's hand brushed lightly at your hip, settling himself on top of you.

"I promise I'll clean you up in a few minutes, I'm just-" He cleared his throat, shifting his weight slightly. "I'm dead. You killed me."

You giggled at his comments, kissing his cheekbone softly as you settled into him. The world slowed around you again, this time the focus staying on the feeling of his heartbeat and the slow, steady breaths as he continued to caress your body. Where Scott's touch during sex had been rough and passionate, his desire for you showing through his body, now he seemed to be taking his time in running his hands over you. It was like he was determined to commit every bump and divot to memory, becoming familiar enough that he'd still know their location after decades had passed.

He continued the slow movements even after grabbing a cloth from the bathroom to clean you up, soft kisses leading up the bruises on your thighs to your throat before giving you a chaste kiss.

You watched as he grabbed the sweatpants you had brought down earlier, readjusting the blanket and pillows that had been knocked to the side during the frenzy. As much as you tried to ignore it, those anxious thoughts crept back in. Not enough to fill you with doubt, but still leaving you feeling awkward as you watched him.

What were you supposed to do now?

You started mumbling something about getting back to bed, starting to pick up your discarded clothing but were stopped by his hand closing around your wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked. When you pointed upstairs, like it was obvious that you were going to go back to your own bed now, he raised his eyebrow at you. "Do you think I'm some kind of asshole who would make you go sleep by yourself after all that?"

"I mean... It is more comfortable than the couch." You quipped back, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at the reassurance that his actions hadn't been a moment of poor judgment.

"Well, you haven't offered me your bed. Really, it's poor hosting on your part."

You paused in the midst of getting re-dressed, mouth gaping at him. "You know what? Fine. Stay on the couch, but I'm laying on top of you just to really maximize your uncomfortableness."

"Sounds good to me," he replied, opening the blanket and motioning for you to join him. "You're comfy enough to counteract the springs."

You smiled to yourself as you laid your head on his chest, melting into his embrace. "I really should go back to my room at some point though, in case one of our  moms decides to wake up."

"I am pretty sure if they found us like this they'd throw another party to celebrate. I'm not entirely convinced that they haven't been secretly planning this for our entire lives."

"Do you really love all those things about me?" You asked, narrowing your eyes playfully at him. "Or did your mom put you up to all of this?"

"You caught me." He deadpanned. When you giggled at him, he tipped your chin up to look at him. "You could live a thousand lives and I would find and love you in every single one of them."

You were sure you could actually feel your heart bursting at his words, the warmth of adoration spreading through your whole body.

"I like the sound of that." You whispered, kissing him again.

[antonellibee]

My journey so far | loa & shifting

Hello loablr/shiftblr!! I've never made a blog about my journey and what I've learned and I think it would be cool to share it with you :)

Well, for a long time I've been bullied as a child and had low self-esteem, I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror or take a picture without feeling bad. When I was 10 or 11 and I was in the 5th grade (here in Brazil we called it fifth grade, I don't know if it's the same in other countries, sorry) I've met the subliminals and started using them. Let's say I had a pretty bad mentality and mental health back then and the community had a lot of people saying "how we should use" the subliminals correctly and a lot of 'limiting beliefs' so I hadn't had much results 'cause of this and were always frustrated (and I didn't know what I wanted, everyday I wanted a different thing like hair color, eye color) and ended up getting nothing. In 2018 I've met shifting and really struggled with that for a while (my first shift was last year) again because I thought I needed to do a lot of methods, drink gallons of water to shift and had in mind that it was a hard thing that needed effort. In the 9th grade I changed school and the bullying stopped, my mental health got better, it wasn't really the best and I still had a shitty mentality but it was better than before. I've became quite popular in my classroom there and made great friends. The next year I changed school again, where I've got my first bf. I was insecure back then and thought men were all the same and that he would leave me someday (I was sure he would). And guess what happened? He left me (now I've found out why, it wasn't entirely his decision). After that I've decided that I would focus on me and my studies. In 2023 I've met the law of assumption and it changed my life to better, it changed how I see myself, how I see the world. Of course in the beginning I struggled a little bit and wavered a lot, I didn't have a good self concept yet and was always frustrated 'cause I didn't "see" the results yet. I've decided to study more about it and changing my self concept, the difference was huge, I was more confident and people started to treat me better. I've caught attention everywhere I went. But I still wasn't that confident. In 2024 I went to a new school (I've studied in 8 different schools because my family wanted me to study in a good school). I remember that I listened to subliminals, made affs and all. In my first day I've made friends and some boys there admitted they wanted to date me. I was actually surprised and kinda shy (I'm a shy girl) with all the attention. My teachers treated me very well, I've got high grades and even a Math Olympics medal! In 2024 I started studying automotive mechanics in a private school and the same thing happened (this happened first, school started later than mechanics). I've studied more, now I know that we are pure consciousness, we rule our reality and that we're not just the physical body. A lot of realities exists out there just waiting for us to be aware of them. We manifest our desires by just assuming we have them, becoming aware of having our desires. I've learned that the law can't fail you, it's always working, it's a law!

When you see someone saying for you to take care of you, your mental health and self concept, listen to them. It will make you feel better about yourself, you'll feel better. I'm not saying that it will be easy at first, I know it's not easy at first mainly for the ones who had a shitty mentality and self concept like I had 6 years ago. Affirm to yourself everyday that you're pretty, that you're the one who rule your reality, that you're amazing, that you're lucky, that you're the most beautiful person in the world. I know it will make you kinda "uncomfortable" in the beginning but you can do this! The only person who can change your life is you! You're powerful, love 🩷

Be kind to you and to others, don't pressure yourself and don't forget to focus on you

Well, that was it :)

I hope it can help others!

A special thanks to the bloggers who helped me with their blogs

@fairyminnie444

@love4ng1e

@salemlunaa

@b4ddprincess

@hrrtshape

@pamicakery

[moonunirealm]

𐙚 ⋆ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ɪ ᴍᴀɴɪꜰᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴇᴀʀ

i sometimes don’t even notice when the things i want come into fruition but here are some things i noticed…

𐙚 ⋆ ᴍʏ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀ!

this time last year i felt so helpless, literally didn’t even know what i was going to do with my life but i graduated last semester with flying colors!

𐙚 ⋆ ᴀ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴇʀᴛᴏ ʀɪᴄᴏ + ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀᴛꜱ

at the beginning of this month, i was doing my vision board and decided that i wanted to travel more so i put a beach with the puerto rican flag. a couple days later, my friend texted me saying she wanted to take me with her to puerto rico for the bad bunny concert, an album i didn’t even tell her i liked, btw. also, added concerts to my vision board since i love going to them and think i don’t go to them enough. including that bad bunny concert, i have 3 concerts im going to this year… and it’s only january lol

𐙚 ⋆ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴊᴏʙ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ɢʀᴀᴅᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

by the end of last year, i’ve had a different mindset so these were easier to manifest but the title explains the gist, i wanted to work right after graduating and i got 2 office jobs that i actually like, surrounded by people who are nice, funny, and want to see me win.

first job, i interned there while in school and from the first day, i told my boss that i was going to work there. she didn’t believe me, the other interns said they’d like to work there as well but i knew the job was mine. my first day officially on the job, she was like you said this from the start, and i was like yupppp lol

second job, i went through the whole interview process with a company that didn’t know me from a can of paint. it was 4 rounds of interviews over like 2 weeks and throughout the whole process, i knew the job was mine. i wanted hints in the interviews that they liked me, and that’s exactly what i got.

𐙚 ⋆ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏʏʏ

ties in with the jobs, i wanted more money and just freedom to buy/get anything i want. i always have enough, money always comes easy to me, and i always get paid early from my jobs. literally in one of them, we’re supposed to get paid on thursdays, all my coworkers get paid on thursday but i get paid on tuesday nights.

𐙚 ⋆ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ᴍᴏᴍ!

this one has been really important to me, before, me and my mom were close but i always felt there was something missing, on both ends. now, we’re closer than ever and are way more in sync. i love that we have inside jokes that get created effortlessly, she’s literally my bestfriend!

𐙚 ⋆ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴꜱʜɪᴘ

with trump in office and being a resident, i didn’t feel safe enough with just being a permanent resident so an opportunity came to me on how i could get my citizenship and now im getting a us passport soon :)

𐙚 ⋆ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ

few small everyday things like a lotion i wanted, hygiene products i never told anyone i wanted, getting my food paid for without asking even by coworkers i barely know, a new phone, coping skills/more patience, etc. omg also, doesn’t need a whole section but i wanted to include things not messing up if i tell people my plans, i changed my mindset with that bc im a yapper, if im excited about something, i want to tell people and i hated that anxiety that comes with that mindset so now i can tell people anything that’s coming up that im excited about without it being “messed up”.

ib: @solanasreality (i loved their post omggg)

[peachhcs]

first of all i love the new layout!! second, i would love to see a continuation of the girl talk blurb between blaire and samy!

omg thank you!! i wanted to change it up since the holiday season is over :) also yesss i love girl talk. maybe this time blaire asks samy how she deals with being in the spotlight all the time because will’s in the nhl and her brothers

edit: wow this is so longer overdue i’m so sorry 💔 (and so short i seem to be struggling to write long fics atm) my mack and blaire baes i promise i didn’t forget about y’all

au masterlist

the guys went out golfing and because samy and blaire weren’t that interested in joining them, they decided to head downtown to get brunch together. blaire brought samy to one of her favorite spots since being in san jose.

“this might be a weird question, but how are you so like..chill with all the media and constant conversation about yours and will's relationship?" blaire wondered once they ordered and the waiter took the menus away.

samy flushed a bit, "umm..i don't really know. i guess i'm just really used to it by now that most of it just rolls off my back?"

"but like..were you ever not used to it?"

"i mean, yeah for sure. when quinn and jack started like..making a name for themselves and i was still like thirteen it was definitely weird to see people talking about me online and comparing me to my brothers. i definitely cried about it a few times," samy laughed a little. "but, i guess i just got used to it? or i started learning to not engage with it and just let it go because the people online don't even know anything about my life they're just making assumptions."

"i just feel like being with mack people are gonna start saying stuff about me and i guess i've never been in that situation before, so i don't really know how to handle it," blaire admitted shyly and the brunette's features softened.

"that's okay. it can be really scary at first when thousands of people have something to say about you, but it's good to remember that their opinion doesn't matter like at all. all that matters is what you think and what mack thinks. and if it ever does really get to you, it's important to talk to him or someone so you don't hold it in and let it bottle up," samy reached over to squeeze the younger girl's arm.

"thanks, i appreciate that. i feel like you and will are such pros at just letting things go and not paying attention to any of it."

"it was definitely something we had to learn, but we just try to really separate ourselves from it because it can really get to your head if you think about it too much, you know? i think we always just try and remember that we love one another and the things people say online about us are pretty much irrelevant because they don't know us, you know?"

blaire nodded. she was a bit jealous at how well samy and will were at ignoring the media and comments online about their relationship, but the younger girl knew it was just something that would take some getting used to. she had to remember she was dating a pretty big-shot hockey player nowadays and not one that was just popular with the girls at shattuck anymore.