#THEY PLAYED WORDS WITH FRIENDS TO KEEP HER PRESENT IN THE SEASON

[kerryweaverlesbian]

They really fumbled the season 14 emotional core specifically by not having Mary be present and recognisably Mary for MOST of the season. It feels like we see more of her after her death than before it, and when we do see her before it she's a completely different character who's their uncomplicatedly loving mom.

Take season 10 Charlie, who was present and dynamic and alive and forming new relationships with other major characters and was generally a big part of the plot for season 10. Take season 12 Mary even! So cool they fridged her thrice. The high level of emotion from Dean and Sam after her (apparent) s12 finale death was meaningful to the audience because Mary IS season 12. Take season 7 Bobby! He is active and present and having an emotional arc and has been consistently a part of the fabric of the show.

And compare these to season 14 where she is living in a cabin with an unimportant side character, she's being sweet and motherly full stop, she's in The Pearl where her husband comes back from the dead and she has NO complicated scenes or emotions to process with Dean or Sam and gets maybe 3 lines in the whole 'pisode. The show doesn't give a fuck about her. And this is after season 13 where she's mostly in another world doing fuck all.

For a death to have weight in fiction you need to remind the audience consistently that THIS CHARACTER IS IMPORTANT by having them form new relationships, do things for the plot and generally be present onscreen. As it stands, even though intellectually I know that if MY mom got killed and her murderer came to see me going 🥺 it was her fault really 🥺 will you comfort me 🥺 and I knew they were going to kill more people, I would probably be easily persuaded to put them in eternal prison or shoot them in the head - the emotional truth of it on the show just doesn't carry through.

It feels like an overreaction for Dean to be so angry about this for so long because the show didn't care about Mary enough to have her around. What is he losing by not having her around? In season 14, they don't show us. They did in s12 - the potential to be seen, and the complex joy of getting to know his actual mother rather than the idea of her. And by not showing us, it makes it not exist, because its a tv show and anything that isn't being depicted implicitly isn't important to the story. If you removed all of Mary's scenes from s14 before her death, what would change? Pretty much nothing.

Now to be clear, I don't think they should have fridged Mary at all. But they could have at least done it properly. The sexism that made the writers less bothered about characterising Mary thoughtfully in s14 is a blight on the show.

[asumi2020202]

Blessing disguised as a Curse

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!reader.

A/N: After the 1st episode of season two I'm currently obsessing over Jacaerys. So, many Jacaerys stories will be uploaded as well as Aemond cuz I Love him too. Thank you for reading this fiction.

Summary: You were Alicent's daughter. Younger than the three, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena but older than Daeron. After returning from Dragonstone, Rhaenyra proposes a marriage pact between her eldest and you. A man your mother had warned you about.

___________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ______

People and gatherings made you nervous. Anxiety coursed through your veins everytime someone started a conversation with you. Solitude was what you preferred. Your comfort was your sister and by some means her bugs as well.

Your mother warned you of the people that were coming back to Kings Landing. She told you to keep distance from them. Though you paid almost no mind to her words which were half controlled by your grandsire, you couldn't help but ponder about those people she talked about.

You knew them from the start before they fled to Dragonstone after taking your precious brother's eye. You had felt hatred towards them but 'what if they change?' You had thought countless of times.

You loved your siblings more than anything. Having a father only by name in the court and a stranger in the halls as he supported your half-sister with everything she had done even if it was killing someone.

You love them. You tried to be there for them through everything. You love Aegon even if was arrogant and misbehaving. You love Aemond even if he wanted revenge. You love Helaena even if she is called weird by others and is obsessed with bugs. You love Daeron even if you have almost no memory of him left.

_________________________________________

You were playing with little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera while Helaena was telling you more facts about bugs. She loved that her baby sister also had interest in her bugs and helps her catch them.

"Did you know that butterflies join their bodies together to reproduce?" Helaena asks you meeting your gaze.

"Really? I used to think they flap their wings together." You reply as you played with Jaehaerys while little Jaehaera sat on your lap.

"Hmm. The male butterfly often dies soon after they mate." Helaena spoke as her gaze shifted back on her embroidery.

"So then the female butterfl-" you were going to reply when the doors opened to reveal your mother.

Both you and Helaena looked up at her while the children were escorted away by the maids. " They have landed. Remember what I have told you my sweelings. Be on your best behaviours." Alicent spoke.

"Yes mother we understand " you replied speaking for both you and your sister. Alicent left the room after nodding at you.

_________________________________________

After meeting with her daughters, Alicent left their room. A maid informed her that Princess Rhaenyra had wanted to meet with her.

Alicent let the maid guide her to the room where Rhaenyra was present. When they reached the place, the maid opened the door to let the Queen inside.

Alicent was met with Rhaenyra. She could tell just by the looks that Rhaenyra was pregnant.

"It has been too long since we were granted the chance to converse" Alicent spoke, breaking the silence.

"Indeed it has been. I know you were busy with the royal matters at hand, so I asked for you at a time when you would be free." Rhaenyra replied looking into Alicent's eyes.

"Is there any important matter that you wish to discuss with me?" Alicent asked.

"Yes, there is one actually. The rift between us has lived far too long. I propose a marriage pact. My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me. Let my son and your youngest daughter be betrothed together so they shall rule together.

We are one family. And long before that we were close friends." Rhaenyra said and looked at Alicent for an answer.

"I sh-" Alicent was going to speak but Rhaenyra interjected.

"This marriage will help us reconcile with each other." She said.

"I shall think of it and give you your answer after the feast tonight." Alicent replied. "Thank you your grace." Rhaenyra smiled at her.

_________________________________________

Alicent had requested an audience with her father after meeting Rhaenyra to discuss about the marriage.

"Father I can't just sacrifice my child." Alicent pleaded. "I know Alicent but this marriage can help us take the throne and make Aegon the king." Otto reasoned.

"Tell Rhaenyra that you agree to this proposal. If y/n is married to her son then it will be easier to control them. When the throne is returned to the rightful heir, it will be easier to prevent war." Otto continued.

Alicent feeling defeated, agreed to her father's request.

_________________________________________

You were in your sister's chambers, waiting for her to get finished dressing up so you both could attend the feast together.

Your dress was simple yet the details on it were impressive. It was was a navy blue dress with golden details. It made you look ethereal.

When Helaena was done, the both of you left the chambers together. Holding tightly onto the hands of your sister as the maids escorted you to the feast hall.

All were seated at the table only getting up when Viserys arrived before sitting down again.

You were seated on the right side of Helaena as Aegon sat on her left. Aemond sat at the end of the table. Rhaena and Baela sat on your right. Starting small conversations which you could connect to and laugh with them.

You were trying hard to not feel nervous. You couldn't really face upfront only talking to Rhaena, Baela and Helaena.

Jacaerys had never thought you to be so beautiful over the years. When he first saw you after the years, he hadn't believed it was you. Only five and ten yet you were the most beautiful lady in his eyes. He had seen you accidentally when he was watching Aemond train, you stood in your balcony gazing at the sky. It was he who actually reasoned with his mother to marry you to him.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you during the feast. The way the dress showed your curves. The way you white hair was style. The necklace on your neck. He was in love.

You on the other hand couldn't even meet his gaze after what your mother told you.

'His brother took your brother's eye, who knows if one day he comes and decides to bring harm to us as well.' she had said.

Jace got up, walking upto you. Lending his hand forward, asking for a dance. You looked at your mother who just nodded. After which you had accepted his hand.

He led you to the side. The music had started. As you both started to dance. He didn't seem so bad. He seemed gentle, offering you bright smiles to which you just gave some small ones.

He looked different. Different than how your mother described him. Ruthless, arrogant, selfish and such.

After the feast, when the children went to their designated chambers, Alicent told Rhaenyra that she had accepted the marriage proposal. That she would try to forget the past and reconcile with her.

The two women decided that they shall break the news to the children and the king next morning, bidding each other a good night.

_________________________________________

You woke early as usual. Your maids had prepared you for the day. A knock on the door took your attention.

It was Jace.

The one who you felt some type of attachment to after the previous feast. He stood infront of your door as he said "Our mothers have requested an audience with us at the King's chambers. I was asked to inform you and take you to them."

"Very well then my prince, let us leave at once." You replied, getting up from your seat and walking down the corridor with him.

'My prince?' oh how sweet it sounded coming from your mouth. But he didn't want 'my prince', he wanted 'husband'.

He knew why they both were called, his mother told him yesterday night before he fell asleep. That the two would be married soon.

Upon arrival at the King's chambers, you greeted your mother, Rhaenyra and the king.

"Ah you've arrived. Do sit. Your mother and I have agreed on something and we wish for your answer as well." Rhaenyra said giving a smile while holding hands with Alicent like she used to when they were children.

You nodded your head as a sign for her to continue speaking.

"We have decided that you and my son Jace shall be betrothed together for the harmony of our family. Your mother has agreed and so has Jace but I wish for your answer." Rhaenyra finished her saying.

"It is a most judicious proposition. Wouldn't you agree daughter?" King Viserys who was resting in his armchair spoke up.

You looked at your mother, who stared at you and offered a smile and then to Jacaerys who looked around your face to find any kind of rejection.

You looked up at Rhaenyra, anxiety flaring through and spoke "if it can help the family be whole again and please my mother then I shall agree."

Rhaenyra's face brightened as did Jace's. Alicent only nodded.

"Well then. I believe we can start with the preparations right away." Rhaenyra said getting up to hold your hands as you looked up to her.

_________________________________________

"You've warned me my entire life about them mother, and now you simply marry me off to him. I don't get you." You spoke to your mother calmly.

"Sweetling, I know it is difficult for you but it is for the greater good. It is to uphold the realm and make peace." Alicent reasoned while placing her hand on your face.

No other word was spoken as you went back to your chambers.

You liked Jacaerys after the events of last night but you couldn't help but worry about what your mother told you. You couldn't help but worry about your siblings, you would have to leave your home and go to Dragonstone with them.

_________________________________________

Three days since that day, your wedding was held. You and Jace cut your lips and the your palms. Holding your hands together, you both drank from the same cup with your other hands. The septa reciting the vows the both of you had to take.

Your families bear witness of the event. Of the love that was to blossom.

After the feast that was held, you left for your now shared chambers in the red keep.

Jacaerys came in a moment after you. You felt nervous. It was your first night together. As if a miracle, he sense your nervousness.

"Is something bothering you dear wife? You even left the feast early." He asked softly not to startle you.

Wife. Oh how you knew you will love him just from how that word slipped from his mouth.

"It is nothing lord husband. It's just that I don't fare well in gatherings. I find solace in solitude." You reply back.

"Well I hope that from now on I can be your solace." Jacaerys replied with his bright smile as he came closer to you. Your chest almost touching his lower chest.

He was tall. You had tilt your head up to meet him. You didn't move aside as he cupped your cheeks and looked at your for permission.

As you nodded, he took the sign and kissed you. You both had consummated that night for the first time.

________________________________________

The day came when you had to leave with them to Dragonstone. You would eventually come back when Rhaenyra would be crowned.

You stood before your siblings and parents, kissing the cheeks of your siblings. "Will you come back soon?"

"Of course my little cuddle bears." You said as you crouched down to meet the level of your nephew and niece.

You climbed on top of your dragon, Moonfyre as they all bid you farewell. You heart saddened as you thought that Helaena would be alone now with Aegon ignoring her. Aemond might not even apply his ointments properly. And your mother.. would be lonely.

Moonfyre sensed your worry and sadness, letting out a low groan. She was as beautiful as the night. A white dragon whose color slowly went from white to grey. Eyes as bright as the moon, earning her name when she hatched.

_________________________________________

Viserys was dead. It had been moons since you left. A raven had informed Rhaenyra that her half brother Aegon had usurped the throne.

The weight of the matter forced her to go in labor. Her child was a stillborn. It pained her. You knew it tore her from the inside but she had to focus one the matters at hand.

Ser Eryyk had came with the crown of King Jaehaerys I. Daemon crowned her as the queen as all bowed. Otto came to make peace with them which resulted in rejection straight up in his face.

She sent her sons to earn the favor of other houses.

_________________________________________

"Y/n" you heard her call you from the back as stood near the stairs of Dragonstone, gazing at the sea.

"Come walk with me" she told you. As you both went down the stairs to the beach, you both had a gentle conversation.

"Do you wish to switch sides? I would not blame you if you do for they are your family." Rhaenyra spoke.

"All my life, I've seen them being neglected. By both father and mother. I was their and still am their comfort source.

Aegon always told me that he will not sit the iron throne. He told me that being a king will only hold him down in one place, and that he wishes to fly free like a dragon." You pause, looking at her eyes while gently holding her hand before continuing.

"And now they tell me that he has Usurped the throne. That he is now the king and that he now rules. That doesn't seem like the Aegon i know." You told her as she looked at you and nodded her head.

_________________________________________

You stood in the middle of Rhaena and Baela as see someone tell Rhaenyra a few words as she broke down.

She turned around, her eyes filled with rage and sorrow.

Lucerys was dead. Vhagar attacked him.

You felt helpless. Did your brother intentionally kill the Heir to Driftmark? You knew he had a deep hatred for Lucerys for taking his eye. But he wouldn't go as far as to kill him.

A raven had been sent to Jacaerys, informing him of the news. You couldn't face the queen. She knew you were innocent but that cannot pardon the sin of your brother.

You had began to open up but now your alone again. The little child seeking solitude. Hiding from people.

_________________________________________

A raven had arrived, delivering a letter to you. It was from the Red Keep. It was Aegon.

Dear Sister,

I know what has been done cannot be changed, but Aemond didn't actually wanted to kill Luke. It was grandsire. He got in his head like mother. He lost control over Vhagar.

I don't wish to rule. They told me that inorder for Rhaenyra to rule, she would have to kill us. That she would kill us all to secure the throne for her and her son. Grandsire said the same thing to Mother the other day, I had overheard it.

This war shouldn't happen. It will tear all of us apart. We are not the enemy of the blacks nor are they ours. Our enemy is Otto Hightower. He wants to rule the kingdom indirectly by being the hand.

Tell our half sister that we must work together. That I am willing to lay down my throne. She will be the Protector of the Realm. I know this is a crucial time for you but stay safe.

-Yours truly

Aegon.

You didn't know what to say. You were Alicent's daughter, who would believe you. They might consider you a traitor as well. You clutched the letter to your chest.

You walls finally broke. You broke down on the bed. It was him from the beginning. Otto Hightower. Anger and pain surrounded you. You cried as you brought your knees to your chest and hid your face there.

The door slowly opened which you hadn't noticed. It was Jacaerys. He had a melancholy look in his eyes as well as of guilt and hatred.

He hated seeing you cry. His Lady Wife. He gently put his head on your back. You looked up to meet his gaze with a tearful look.

The way he looked broke your heart. He looked used and betrayed. You got up and met his gaze again never letting go of the letter.

"Lord husband-" you started but he shakes his head as a no.

"Don't. Don't speak." He tried to say it normally but it came out cold as he walked towards the desk in your room to perhaps look for something.

"Please listen to me. He is innocent. I got a ra-" You started again but got cut off.

""Innocent?! He killed my brother! How can you possibly call him innocent?! My brother went as a messager. He vowed not to fight and Your Brother!..... Took advantage of that!" He screamed at you. For the first time. You had never seen him so angry even when your brothers teased him. He looked at you with hatred.

Tears flooded your vision again. He had never raised his voice at you. You knew it was due to the loss of his brother but that didn't hurt any less.

"I understand your pain. But you must listen to me! At least once hus-" you reasoned which angered him further.

"How can you understand My pain?! T'is I who lost my brother not you. And whats there to listen to? That your brother killed him accidentally?!

Tell me. Were you also a part of this? I truly thought you had loved me. But it seems you're the same as well!" He shouted again coming closer to you.

"I truly do love you. Please believe me!" Your tears flowed freely.

"No you don't. Tell me... Was this marriage also a scheme of you and your family?! Shut up, just shut up for once!"

Your eyes went wide. He wanted you to shut up. You were bothering him. He doubted your love for him. His own eyes widened a bit when he realised what he said. He left the chambers in a hurry not wanting to discuss about this further.

Your chest felt tight. You couldn't breathe properly. You had trouble while trying to inhale the air.

_________________________________________

As Jacaerys left the chambers, he felt as if his clothes were too tight for his body. He saw Baela and Rhaena bringing your food to your chambers like they have been since the day they received the news of Luke.

They nodded at him as he reciprocated.

As they went inside the chambers, a scream could be heard. Possibly from Baela. It could be heard from all the corners of the castle.

Jace heard it before anyone else as his heart stopped. He rushed straight back to the shared room as he saw Baela cradling your unconscious, small form to her chest while Rhaena panicked and told the maids to call for the maesters.

His breathing stopped as he saw his mother and Princess Rhaenys enter the room along with the maester and maids. His mother looked at him as his eyes filled with tears.

First he lost Lucerys he can't lose you too. He didn't mean anything he said.

_________________________________________

Jacaerys paced around the hall infront of your room. He watched as Rhaena guided his little brother Joffery to his room. Joffery was fond of you which warmed Jace's heart.

As the maesters came out both he and Rhaenyra stood up.

"How is she?" He asked them.

"She has a heavy fever. It possibly happened due to excessive stress. She must have bed rest. " The maesters spoke before leaving.

_________________________________________

It had been 2 days. You were yet to wake up. Moonfyre's cries and wails could be heard from everywhere. She was uncomfortable. Her bonded sister was not well and she could sense it.

Jace held your hand as he apologized over and over again. His tears wetting the sheets.

Your eyes slowly opened. Adjusting to the bright light. Jace looked up to see you now wide awake, trying to sit up.

"No no lay down. You need rest. The maester said you were stressed." He said. His voice quivering.

"Don't cry. I understand your part. I'm sorry I am not what you wish for. I know you wouldn't want to be with a murderer's sister. Hence I give you full permission to take a second wife." You gently said while looking at him.

"No shut up." He said lowly not believing what you said. "I didn't mean anything I said that day. I am sorry." He spoke.

You looked out the window remembering the last time he had asked you to shut up. Tears again filled your eyes which you blinked away but Jace noticed.

"My love i didn't mean it that way. Please believe me." He pleaded shaking his head as held your hand tight.

News spreads fast in the castle. A maid had informed the rest that you were awake. Daemon was with Caraxes and lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were somewhere on the beach.

Rhaenyra, Rhaena and Baela came to the your chambers. The sisters came beside you as they held onto your hand.

Even though you were the daughter of their enemy, they loved you. You were different.

Rhaenyra looked at her son before turning her gaze to you. She felt disappointed in her son after she learned about the argument.

You asked Rhaena for the letter kept on your bedside table as your body was too weak to move. You probably need a few more weeks to be healthy again.

You asked her to give it Rhaenyra.

As Rhaenyra opened the letter and read it's contents, she felt clueless. She didn't realise the state of the other side. Her companion was manipulated from the start.

She held your hand and gave you a sad look. She handed the letter to Jace as she thought that he should read it as well.

His heart broke. You tried to tell him everything but he refused to listen. You tried to explain everything but he only badmouthed you.

Rhaenyra promised you that Otto Hightower will be punished and that none of your siblings would be harmed.

_________________________________________

Calling of your name came from two bubbly voice as they ran to you. You crouched down and opened your arms. The force of your nephew and niece's weight made you fall flat on your butt.

Jacaerys smiled as he saw the reunion. Infront of him stood your four siblings whom you kissed on the cheeks and hugged after getting up.

It was Rhaenyra's official coronation day. Otto Hightower was beheaded for his schemes against the crown.

Rhaenyra and Alicent were finally together again after Rhaenyra found Daemon with Nettles.

All of the royal family stood as King Jaehaerys' crown was placed upon her head. All gave their respects to their first queen.

Jacaerys held your hand tight as he smiled at you which you reciprocated.

_________________________________________

As night fell over kings landing, you and Jace retired to your new shared chambers.

"Husband. Join me in bed." You requested. Your body glowing in your night gown because of the moonlight.

"Of course avy jorrāelan." Jace replied as he climbed on top of the bed and over your body, pinning you down.

He kissed you passionately as one of your hand cupped his face while the other held onto his neck for support.

His naked chest glowed like yours in the moonlight.

"You are most precious thing I have my love." He said as pulled away from your lips.

"And you, my lord husband, came in my life like a blessing disguised as a curse." You said as you both looked at each other and hungrily kissed each other.

The two of slept a long time after consummating the entire night.

He truly did came in your life like a Blessing disguised as a Curse.....

-Lillian

[strawbeerossi]

Sweet Treat

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Penelope gives you aphrodisiac chocolates as a gag gift. Whenever you and Spencer have a movie night, you both don’t realize what sweets you are delving into.

Content/Warnings: Awkward little banter between friends, mutual pining is mentioned, food/eating, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.4K

Kinktober Day Twenty Three: Aphrodisiacs

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“Penelope, what the hell is this?” You asked, a laugh leaving your lips as you looked over the container of what looked to be normal chocolate. “Well! I found it online and apparently it’s some of that chocolate that you eat and you just wanna go crazy on the first person you see.” She giggled.

A girls night meant all sorts of things but whenever Penelope pulled out presents, you knew exactly where this was going. You and the girls had met up at her place about an hour ago. After ordering Chinese takeout and having way too much wine, the night had taken a bit of a turn when it came to discussions. Women talk. Sex was a main topic between you and your small friend group.

“So you are giving them to me?! P, I don’t even have a boyfriend.” You laughed. “Who needs a boyfriend whenever you can have fun with anyone in the world. Just keep them.”

And so you did. It was days after the fact whenever you were inviting Spencer over for a marathon of your favorite show. It was going to be fun, you and your best friend from the office watching your favorite show together. He’d offered to pick up food on the way, which he’d stuck with a good Thai place that you both had eaten at numerous times before whenever you got back from a particularly late case.

Spencer was your best friend on the team, the both of you being closer in age compared to the rest of the crew you worked with. Plus you had similar interests when it came to books, movies, among other things. You’d greeted him with a wide smile the minute the door opened. “Hey!” You grinned while moving to hug him. Despite his disdain for hugs or being touched, he’d slowly began to let you in more. He was happy to hug you or have you hold his hand whenever you needed to pull him somewhere else in a crowded room without losing him.

He enjoyed being by your side. Honestly, he was sure he was in love with you because of how caring you were. You listened to his rambles and even asked him further questions. You even laughed at the jokes that were complicated to understand. You were truly a light shining bright on the team. “I hope you have snacks because I didn’t even stop.” Spencer groaned after returning the hug with one arm as his foot kicked the front door shut. “I do. I have a lot in the kitchen.” You assured.

You'd started the new season of your show together and gotten through dinner within a few episodes before Spencer disappeared into the kitchen as you paused the program on tv. “Don’t take too long! I gotta see how this plays out!” You called while leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket over your body while letting out a soft hum. Spencer had ended up grabbing some chocolate. Which he didn’t read over the label as he grabbed a tab from the container and looked it over. “That’s cute. It’s got little shapes.” He chuckled to himself, breaking one in half as he was moving to take a bite from the rich milk chocolate. It was to die for, so he had to take the other half to you so you could try before you both tore into the bag together.

“Try this. It’s so rich. I actually love it.” He’d commented. You weren’t paying attention to what the chocolate looked like, bringing it up to your nose and smelling it before you were pulling the piece in your mouth. Which it was delicious, your eyebrows raising. “Wow, that really is good.” You laughed, watching as Spencer was sitting down and passing over snacks to you. “We can eat the chocolate later. You know sweet stuff can either send me flying on the walls or I end up feeling bad to do anything.” Fair enough.

It was an hour later when you were on another episode, your body was feeling hot as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You wouldn’t like to think that you were attracted to the program, it was a horror series and you were in the middle of a chase scene. So why else were you squirming?

Just as you were going to excuse yourself to take care of the heat in your belly, you noticed Spencer shifting uncomfortably, a pillow resting over his lap. Then you thought about the chocolate, your eyes widening as you were shooting up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Spencer watched you, turning slightly on the couch to watch you curiously through the doorway. That’s when you see the box, a soft groan leaving your lips as you lifted up the sex candy while bringing a hand up to rest against your face. ‘

Just great. You knew you should’ve just put it in your room.

“Spencer.” The sound of your voice had him nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly faced the tv again. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand clutched the pillow harder. Maybe you’d caught him. Even someone who wasn’t a profiler could tell there was something going on, not to mention the growing tension between the both of you.

Mutual pining was normal and you both weren’t exempt from that. Spencer was an awkward rambler but you found it endearing. Just as he found you as equally as endearing even if you were quiet a good majority of the time and relished in his ramblings about whatever was brought up. You both enjoyed each other's presence, the two of you spending time together more often than not.

Those unsaid mutual feelings made this whole situation worse.

You approached the couch again as you slowly sat down beside Spencer again, body leaning back against the couch as you could feel yourself hot, face flushed as you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Spencer had now taken notice, clearing his throat. “I-I uh.. I may need to leave soon. M-mom’s facility called.” A lie but it would be a smooth getaway.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, it might be for the best! I forgot that I have to..” Your eyes glanced around the room. “Reorganize my bookshelf!” Less subtle. “R-right. Uh, This seems weird but can you close your eyes for a minute? I just..” His eyes were glued on the pillow, making you bring your eyes down as well. “O-oh.”

“It’s not because of the show!” He squeaked, face bright red as he was looking back at the screen. “I don’t- I don’t know why but I was looking at you and it just.. I don’t know!” He whined. His awkwardness made it hard for him to admit why there was a pillow on his lap outright, however you had clocked the reasons why.

“You know the chocolate..? Uh, Penelope gave me them the other day as a joke and they are.. They are essentially just sex chocolate.” Your face was hot, chest rising and falling as you were feeling the gush of slick in your panties from the heightened arousal. “Wait. Aphrodisiacs?!” Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. Well, at least he didn’t feel as bad from getting hard after giving you a few glances. There was a reason behind it.

The both of you stared at one another, faces hot and eyes blown out with lust. “So uh.. How long does this last?” Spencer finally asked, his brain being too clouded over with lust as he stared in your direction. “I-I wouldn’t know.. I never used them.” Your nose crinkled as the both of you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from one another. “I, uh, I lied about my reason to leave.” He stated the obvious while you couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips. “I know..” You admitted, slowly pushing yourself to stand. “I um.. I don’t actually have to reorganize my bookshelf either..” You laughed awkwardly while heading over to stand in front of your best friend, hand moving to gently rest over the pillow. “I don’t want you to go.. Not yet. Can you, um, help me out a little bit? I trust you and you are here.” You rambled on as you put your hands together slowly. Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes as he nodded slowly.

“I’ll help.” You were both a bit awkward at first, the male letting you move the pillow before you were straddling his waist, the show in the background continuing to run as your best friend was blushing nervously. “I gotta admit that I’ve only done this one time before..” He spoke while you offered a smile. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you let your head dip down to connect your lips with his. Your bodies were buzzing with electricity as you were deepening the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair while his hands were gripping your hips.

You never thought you’d be in this position, tongue in your closest friend’s mouth while your hips were grinding down against his. You felt a fire inside of you, your body desperate to be bare and touched. As you pulled out of the kiss much to Spencer’s dismay, you were tugging your shirt over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. The sight of your breasts in a white bra had Spencer’s Adams apple bobbing as his eyes were trained on the lace that accentuated your skin. “It’s pretty right? One of my favorites.” You comment while watching his eyes stare at your tits with a new sense of hunger in his eyes.

You took it as a great sign as your hand was reaching behind you, unclasping the top before letting it fall somewhere with your shirt. His hands were quickly coming up to cup your breasts before he was just diving right in, wet kisses being pressed against your skin before his lips were wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking over the nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Fuck.” You cursed while his attention was focused on your chest.

Your body was perfect.

As he had gotten enough though, he was pulling back to examine your chest that was covered in a few hickies and your hardened nipples. “You look so pretty.” It wasn’t akin to being called a whore or a slut but you honestly liked it. The way he complimented your body had your cheeks heating up as you were lifting your hips when he had gained enough confidence to work on your pants. He’d tugged down your pants and panties before working on his own pants.

“Eager?” You commented, a little giggle leaving your lips as Spencer looked at you as if you’d grown another head. “Have you seen yourself?! Of course I’m eager!” He defended himself, causing the both of you to share a laugh. “I hate to rush this but-” He was cut off by a groan as your hand reached between you both to give his leaking cock a few tugs. “I know, me too. You can make up for the lack of foreplay later.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you pressed your lips against his once more, your leaking hole sinking down onto his cock.

The both of you had let out moans muffled in one another’s mouths as your hips rocked slowly, getting adjusted to the man’s thick cock. It was always the awkward nerds who had the best surprises.

Your head was falling on his shoulder as he held your hips with a bruising grip. He wasn’t one to have sex often, not being lucky like Derek in the department of women effortlessly throwing themselves at him. He knew that this scenario was one he never imagined happening, your velvety walls clenching tightly around this bare cock while you essentially used him as a human dildo to get yourself off.

He wasn’t complaining in the slightest, watching your face contort in ecstasy as his hips were thrusting upwards to slam into your leaking cunt, a groan falling from his lips as his head tilted back against the sofa. You were whining and moaning with each thrust that he matched with your movements, eventually pushing the one place you needed most. The impact had your hands clutching tightly to his shoulders as you let your mouth fall open with a soft cry.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were slurred, the effects of the aphrodisiacs heightening all of your arousal so you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your body was hot, hips surely bruised by Spencer’s rough grip as he slammed into you as well as your legs shaking from their position.

When you did hit your peak, you were tightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulders as your hips slammed down into his lap, ass hitting his thighs at an unsteady rhythm. Spencer however, was quickly flipping you both over, your body sprawled out against your living room couch as he was rolling on top of you.

Taking the opportunity, he wasn’t skipping a beat as his hips slammed into yours, your sensitive cunt contracting around his cock as he was bringing himself to climax. As your moans and whines from overstimulation echoed in the apartment, his own whines of desperation were falling from his lips.

His cock twitched inside of your used pussy, quickly making the effort to pull out of you as he jerked at his leaking cock, a low huff leaving his lips as ropes of cum were now pooling in your stomach, glazing your bare skin as he let out a weak whine. As you lay there covered in his spent, your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as you made the effort to catch your breath.

“I think that chocolate needs to be thrown away to avoid incidents like this again,” his voice pulled you out of your post sex haze as you laughed a little. “Are you kidding? I think we need to do this every time we watch our show together.” You teased, making Spencer shake his head with a smile.

“At least hide it for when you have anyone else over. I don’t think I’ll survive if this mix up happens with someone else.”

[foolinafable]

the setup

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader Synopsis: Five has a rather outrageous crush on his niece's tutor, so Lila and Diego decide to set them up by inviting her to their daughter's birthday party. Word Count: 1.7K Tags: Fluff, season 4, Crackfic, everyone knows they like each other but they are being stupid Note: sorry this took so long to come out, i had half written in august but only finished it now, not really proofread yet so mind any mistakes!

“You came!” the delighted voice of Grace Hargreeves shouted out as the girl bounded her way toward you. Enveloping you in a larger-than-life hug 

“Of course I did! I told you I would, didn’t I?” you questioned the girl, struggling to hug her back with her present in your hands. 

“Yes, but-” the girl started, not able to meet your eyes, embarrassed at her thoughts 

“But nothing!” you quickly interrupted her. “Now go play with your friends. I need to find your mom or dad and figure out where to put your present.” You shooed the girl away towards her friends. 

Luckily, you didn’t need to look far, Lila spotted you almost immediately after her daughter left you. The woman quickly made her way over to you with a large smile on her face, mirroring her daughters. She quickly pulled you into an excited hug before pulling away and taking the present off your hands. 

“So glad you could come, Grace had been asking repeatedly if her favourite tutor was coming.”  

“I’m her only tutor?” you questioned 

“That’s what I said!” The woman laughed, glee apparent in her features as she grabbed your hand with the one not carrying your present, walking you towards where all the adults were unfortunately stationed watching the children, some looking like they would rather be anywhere else. 

“Diego!” Lila called out to her husband, who quickly turned towards her, his smile widening when he noticed you stood next to her. He quickly hugged you in greeting before turning his attention to his wife. 

“Where did you put the pinata? Luther and I are going to set it up.” 

“Um,” Lila looked around, spinning around in a circle to survey the area when her gaze locked onto someone near the ball pit. “Five!” The woman called out, waiting for him to look at her before she continued, “Can you bring the pinata over? Thanks!” She quickly called out before rushing off, mumbling something about needing to get the cake.

The man in question quickly made his way over, holding a very familiar-looking piñata 

“Is that an east side piñata?” you questioned as Five handed it over to Diego, who looked at you with so much relief you thought you could've saved his life

“Yes,” he practically shouted in glee. “Yes, it is!” looking around smugly for someone, but you weren't sure who 

“You might need a bit of a heavier hand with that then. At my younger cousin's birthday last week, it took an adult to hit it for the candy to come out,” you warned the older man. He simply nodded, walking off to put it up, a large smile still present on his face, 

“Hi” the man you were left with almost whispered, believing that he would scare you off if he came on too strong. 

“Hi, Five,” you smiled in greeting, “I haven't seen you at the house recently. Been busy?” you replied. Truthfully, wanting to keep talking to the attractive man, 

“Yeah, sorry, been working overtime at the CIA, sure you understand” he smiled slightly at your attention to his lack of presence lately. Making him believe that maybe Lila and Diego were right about your reciprocation of feelings towards him

 “How has University been?” he questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going 

“Very good”, you respond. Hand on hips at his disbelief in your answer, shock evident on your face “Honestly!” you smile,

“I mean, I'm on Christmas break at the moment, so there’s not much to do other than tutoring.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to hint to the man that maybe the two of you could spend some time together. But before Five could reply, Klaus came bouldering over with Claire. 

“Five! Lovely to see you!” 

The man greets his brother, Klaus, you quickly learn from Five's reply 

“And this is?” Klaus asks, gesturing towards you when Claire whispers to him. 

Klaus “The tutor! We have heard so much about you!”

“Really?” you questioned, looking down at your feet in nervousness. “I didn't know Grace spoke about me so much.”

“Oh, not from Grace-“ Klaus began, a large cheeky smile covering his face. But he was quickly interrupted by the feeling of a hand on his gloved one, causing him to pause in alarm. When he was quickly dragged away by Claire, her eyes wide in alarm, while Five was glaring at him with such ire you could imagine Hades opening up hell for whoever was at the other end of it.

“It was lovely to meet you”, he shouted as his niece pulled him further away from you.

You smiled, a clumsy laugh tumbling out as you looked at Five, his hands covering his face in annoyance, but a clear smile was present on his face when he removed his hands, but before either of you could say anything more, a familiar head of hair came running towards you.

“How is the birthday girl doing?” you ask, ruffling her hair as she smiles widely at you.

“Amazing, but I would feel even better if you watched me go down the slide”, the girl replied cheekily, making a small scoff come out of her uncle's mouth at her words. 

“Well, we can't have the birthday girl not be at max amazingness, can we?” you teased as she led away from Five and towards the play area. An apologetic smile on your face as you left him, hoping that it wasn't the last time you would speak to him today.  

── ✧

You didn’t see the brunette again until much later, stood by the ball pit after having escaped the herd of parents asking you intrusive questions, you were sure you would’ve blown a fuse if anyone else asked why you were still single as you were ‘such a lovely girl.’ 

“Finally freed yourself from the lionesses, I see”, Five joked as he came to stand next to you, beer in hand. “It seems Klaus has not been so lucky.” You looked over to see that they had now set their sights on the boy crowding around him like paparazzi. 

“Remind me to stay clear of that side of the room,” you complained, hands rubbing at your temples in worry that they would begin to hurt “There's only so long I can handle being asked about my lack of boyfriend before I strangle one of them,” you admitted, not catching the man's smile at your words.

“Don’t worry, I'll protect you,” he proclaimed.

“Yes, I'm sure you will be much a deterrent to the herd of mamas,” you joked, laughing at his recoil, head shaking in amazement at your goading.

“You really know how to make someone feel good about themselves, don't you?” he teased 

“Clearly”, you smiled, sarcasm laced heavily in your response.

The balls in the ball pool quickly flew up as a man emerged from them, causing you to jump back in alarm as Luther popped his head up from below, a large smile on his face at catching you off guard, eyebrows raising slightly as he noticed his brother stood next to you. After a laugh, you spoke pleasantries with the man, trying to ignore Five's hard glare that he was directing at him. The younger-looking male sighed loudly, causing the two of you to look towards him, the eye contact made the man go red in embarrassment before clearing his throat, looking exacerbated. 

“I thought you were helping Diego set up the  pinata?”

“I was?” The larger man questioned, eyes wide as he looked around the party, clearly alarmed that he wasn't doing what Five had mentioned, scampering out of the ball pit when he saw Diego, but before he could make his way over, Diego called out for everyone to come over for the game so the three of you slowly made your way towards the growing group of children and adults. Five made sure to lead you over to an area with less noisy parents, making you smile in thanks as he grabbed you by the small of the back to lead you away when a parent tried to call out for you.   

To say the next few moments were a disaster would be an understatement, mirroring your earlier words as the pinata was from the east side no matter how hard Grace or her friends would hit the object, it wouldn't break. Luther, clearly wanting to make it up to Diego for missing the memo to help him, tried to use his strength to break the Pinata, and while the Pinata did break, so did the birthday cake. Bits of it went everywhere like a volcano explosion, covering all the guests, much to the children's joy and parents' horror. 

You now stood off to the side, trying to get any larger pieces of cake out of your hair, laughing at the furious faces of the other adults. When Five gave you a napkin, you smiled, letting out a quiet appreciation as you wiped at your face. Feeling that you had gotten enough off, you turned to the boy, laughing at his cake-covered face.

“Here,” you said, moving to wipe some cake off his cheek with the napkin, trying to contain your giggles, he smiled brightly as you moved away from him slightly, his own hand coming to tuck a strand of hair full of icing behind your ears and then regretfully retracting his hand

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe go to a coffee shop where my siblings won't interrupt us every few minutes?” he asked, fingers fidgeting with nerves. 

“Like a date?” you questioned, trying not to get your hopes up, smiling up at him, head tilting slightly to the left as you pondered his words.

“If you want” he replied pensively. 

“I do”, you quickly rebutted, smiling as the boy led you towards the door with a matching grin on his own face.

── ✧

“I told you he would ask her out tonight,” Diego spoke smugly, watching as his brother helped you put on your coat, his wife watching, annoyed beside him.

“I thought it would’ve taken him until our Christmas party.” Lila rebutted, clearly annoyed that she had lost

“But I suppose it is about time you won one of our bets”, she replied smugly, quickly lowering Diego down a peg as the two watched you and Five leave their daughters' birthday party, hands intertwined.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 11: Free Fall

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 12

How many nights did you wish someone would stay? (Lie awake only hoping they're okay?)

(In which an angst writer makes her comeback in more ways than one)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint?

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing (that's probably it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Y'all are the sweetest people ever for being so patient with me but it's finally here! I'm hoping that I don't put y'all through this again but it is almost finals season so...fingers crossed. While you read this chapter, I'd like y'all to keep in mind how much you love me and how much y'all wanted a new chapter and of course my favorite phrase: for the plot! I tried to edit but I hate reading my own work back and so it's not as thorough as it should be and there's probably typos so lemme know. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely week my angels!

May 2025 

It’s her first ever WNBA game -Dallas Wings vs Washington Mystics- and the first thing Paige notices as she steps onto the court is that the two courtside seats right by the Mystics bench are empty. The sound of music streaming through the speakers clashes against the raucous crowds; the lights are dimmed and there’s a riveting thrum of energy swirling the arena in anticipation for a generational talent’s professional debut. Paige has spent the days leading up to her first game immersed in basketball. Since training camps, she hasn’t let herself think of anything except how to make sure the ball went through the hoops, how to make sure the person in front of her didn’t score, how to win. 

It’s easier that way. Because then she doesn’t have to think about how empty and cold her bed feels at night, doesn’t have to think about how much she craves to press call on a number she knows she should have blocked, doesn’t have to think about how the pieces of her shattered world are barely bound together by a tape of pretend. Paige can’t think of any of that and so she’s spent every second awake, clearing her head of all potential distractions and focusing on preparing for this moment. 

Except, the moment is here now. 

And all Paige can fixate on is the empty courtside seats. 

The memories come back to her in waves; the two of them in those seats, pressed together -as close as it could be acceptable for their façade of best friends to be- as they weaved dreams of it being their turn on the professional stage. If she listens closely, Paige swears that amidst the chaos, she can still hear the echo of a promise that had once been made casually in conversation. 

“When you play here for the first time, I’ll be right here cheering you on. Every single time.”

Another broken promise. 

The truth is that the last few weeks as much as it’s felt like Paige is walking on a carpet of roses, there have been countless sharp thorns woven through the petals. She’s tried to avoid them -focusing on what she had, instead of what she’d lost- but they’d found a way to perforate through her skin anyways. And Paige knows she’s bleeding but she can’t scream, so she swallows the pain away instead. Memories of the past are piercing her feet and it feels like she’s leaving a trail of it feels incomplete without you behind her as she navigates the journey through her present, stepping towards a future that would be nothing like the one she’d imagined when she’d been a naive girl sitting in those courtside seats. 

The courtside seats that are empty tonight. 

Really it’s exactly what she should’ve expected. And there’s something so final about this moment, like the last flicker of a candle that had burned in secret. Paige hadn’t even realized she was still holding out for something but as she drags her eyes away from the seats and towards her father and brother who are practically vibrating with pride, she can feel the tautness of the string that she’d held onto. Because she hasn't told them; hasn’t told anybody about the breakup. 

Something about vocalizing it had felt just a little too real and Paige had evaded any potential situation that would warrant her having to reveal the tirth. But it hits her now, looking at those damn empty seats that should've been -in another life would’ve been- filled by her other family, that the words she’d been too scared to say out loud -for fear of them being enshrined into reality- had already probably been spoken into existence by someone else. And it hits Paige now, that maybe she’s desperately holding onto a rope that has already been let go of. 

“You good Bueckers?” she whirls around to find Arike looking at her, eyebrows raised in concern. 

“I’m fine,” Paige lies; she’s gotten so incredibly good at that, “just thinking a lot of thoughts.”

Arike nods in understanding, “fair enough. But you got this dude,” she reaches out a hand to squeeze her rookie’s shoulder, “whatever you’re thinking, when you get on that court, none of it’s gonna matter. All that matters for 40 minutes is the game and that we come out of it with a win. You gonna help us win Paige?”

“That’s the fucking plan,” Paige smirks, earning her a matching one from Arike before the shooting guard saunters onto the court, ready for tip-off.

All that matters is the game. 

Paige sucks in a deep breath, letting herself look over at the courtside seats one more time. This is her reality now. There’s no point in waiting for a regretful phone call or a surprise midnight knock on her door because it’s not going to happen. She feels a sense of hollowed acceptance as she finally turns away from the seats, plastering on a confident smile as she takes her place in the Dallas Wings starting five. And Paige is faced with the same truth that she’d learned at a far too young age; that people would leave her but the game never would. 

***

Dallas wins the game by 17 points. Paige’s statline is 21 points, 6 rebounds and 8 assists with 2 steals and a block. It’s a respectable statement from the rookie and her teammates are overjoyed. She’s surrounded by them as they celebrate winning their first game of the season and there’s a sense of hopeful excitement about how the rest of the season could go. Her eyes go over the top of them to find the cute Dallas local reporter that Paige had befriended shooting her a congratulatory wink and she blushes a little bit, looking away bashfully. In the distance, Paige can make out a small crowd of people decked in custom Wings #5 jersey, whistling in excitement. Despite the home fans, their celebration still echoes around the stadium and the loudest cheer comes from her brother who stands next to her father, both of them beaming with pride. And It’s almost enough to prevent her eyes from wandering back to the empty courtside seats. Almost. 

***

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the quick transition from the college season into the draft, Paige hadn’t had found time to go home inbetween. And so when the Wings had been making hotel arrangements for DC, she’d opted to stay with her dad and Drew in Maryland instead. But as she stands in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at a wall filled with pictures that are an ode to the past - collages that are practically a shrine to her broken relationship- Paige finds herself longing for the cold, unfeeling exterior of a foreign hotel room. 

Paige’s life can be split into two parts. There’s the Before Azzi and then there’s the With Azzi. And the truth is that there isn’t much from the Before Azzi left in Paige’s life. Every inch of her current life has been touched by the brunette, illuminated by her presence and now, it’s tainted by her absence. Especially in Maryland. Since she’d met the Virginia native, the DMV area had always been synonymous with the Fudds for Paige and she can’t remember a time when she’d been here -when she’d been in this bedroom- and not had plans to see them- to see Azzi. 

She takes a hesitant step inside, eyes gliding over each photograph and it’s like she’s being transported through time. The memories are as vivid as ever, bursting with color as they ellipse her mind. Paige can picture every moment like she’d lived it yesterday. She can still hear their laughter echoing through the air, can feel the softness of their hands -their bodies- brushing against each other, can still taste the lingering sweetness of their lips meeting halfway as they breathed silent promises against each other’s skin. 

A silent sob wracks through Paige’s body as she brushes her fingers over the most recent image of them from December -the last photograph she’d had time to print out. It’s one that Drew had taken of them in the kitchen- Paige propped up on the counter and Azzi in between her legs, one hand on the counter with the other resting right against Paige’s heart. Neither of them had even noticed the little boy, too wrapped up in each other; they were in their own world like they often had been. Azzi’s head is thrown back in laughter -probably at some ridiculous joke her girlfriend had cracked- and Paige has that goofy - just for Azzi- grin on her face as she gazes at the brunette with nothing but adoration. 

The picture is from barely six months ago but they look so young to Paige, so innocent, so naive, so fucking happy, so completely unaware that in a couple of months, one hesitantly spoken word would dissolve that happiness into a puddle of rubble. 

No. 

She thinks that one simple word is destined to echo through her ears, like that unpleasant screech of nails scratching against a chalkboard, for as long as she still has the ability to hear. Paige hadn’t even really heard it at first; it had been said so softly, so quietly, so brokenly and she’d barely seen Azzi’s lips move. For the briefest moment she’d tricked her mind into believing it was just the sound of the wind around them. But then there it was again. 

Louder. 

Stronger. 

No.

Paige’s hands instinctively clasp around her ears, fingers tangling tightly through her blond hair, because she can still fucking hear it. Here in this bedroom, where every corner still holds a little part of Azzi -holds a little part of them- the sting of rejection is louder than it’s been since it had first hit. Because it’s not just the pictures. It’s all the little pieces of them they’d left scattered over Christmas break, thinking they’d come back to it together.

 It’s a set of Azzi’s earrings -one Paige vaguely remembers picking out for her when they’d gone shopping a couple of weeks before- placed delicately on Paige’s dresser. It’s the pink sweater -that neither of them are sure who it originally belongs to but like most of their clothes, is basically a shared item at this point- haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s that stupid book they’d started reading together -Paige lying across her girlfriend’s lap, toying with her curls as Azzi read the story out loud- still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be finished. 

Despite being alone in her room, Paige finds herself rapidly shaking her head. Because she can’t do this. Can’t spend a night in this room that had barely ever been just hers, had always felt more like theirs. She can’t sleep on that bed, no when her last memory of it is being tangled in the sheets with Azzi on a cold wintry morning, their legs intertwined with each other as they’d giggled to themselves in between languid lazy kisses. And maybe it’s pathetic of her but she can’t find it in herself to unmake the bed, not when her last memory of the two of them in this room is her leaning against the wall, shamelessly checking out her girlfriend as Azzi neatly made the bed, chiding Paige for the nth time on the importance of tidiness. 

“When are you gonna learn how to make your bed,” Azzi had sighed. 

Grinning, Paige had wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind, slotting her face into the crevice of Azzi’s neck and brushing her lips against the patch of skin, “I know how to make my bed. I just never have to because I’ll always have you to do it for me.”

Except for the last few weeks, Paige has had to make her own bed and she fucking hates it. 

Breathing sharply, Paige slowly backs out of her bedroom, gently pulling the door shut. She leans her forehead against the cool mahogany frame, trying to calm herself down. There’s been a nonstop dull ache in her chest since that night but tonight feels different, like the cold hands of the past have managed to dig under her ribcage and squeeze her heart  -something sharp digging into her arteries- so hard that it hurts just to exist. Paige gives herself a couple more seconds, creating half-moons as she digs her nails into her palms, before she finally pulls away from the door, heading towards her brother’s room down the hall. 

“You know you really should start knocking before you come into my room,” Drew says with a mock annoyance that’s betrayed by his large grin, as Paige slips into his room, “I’m almost a teenager.”

Despite the heaviness that’s still lingering between her lungs, Paige suddenly finds it a lot easier to breathe. Her little brother’s bedroom is dark, save for red LED lights and dim glow of the TV. Drew is reclined on his bed, gripping a white gaming controller between his hands. 

“You’re always gonna be a baby to me Drewski,” she teases, stepping towards him to ruffle his hair, laughing when he ducks her hand and shoots her an irritated glare in response. 

“Not the hair,” he whines and then groans as his eyes flicker back to the screen, towards the game he'd been playing, “damnit Paigey you just got me killed.”

“Hey hey hey, don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Paige chides. 

Drew rolls his eyes, before reaching over to hand over the other controller, “you wanna play?”

Paige shakes her head, gently pushing his hand away, “nah I just-” she chews at her bottom lip, shuffling her feet with uncharacteristic nervousness, “I was just uh- just wondering if I could stay in here tonight? We could have a sleepover? Like old times? Just you and me.”

It’s heartwarming the way her little bother’s eyes light up -like he’s still the little boy that used to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, not almost a teenager who’ll eventually be taller than her- as he nods excitedly, scooching over to give his older sister space on his bed. Paige crawls gingerly onto the bed, hesitating for a second, before she lays her head on her brother’s lap, curling into herself. Drew is warm and inviting and familiar and for a second she almost forgets that serrated pain shooting through her nerves. But then it all comes rushing back and Paige has to swallow harshly to keep herself from giving into the fresh new set of tears that are re-emerging on her waterline. 

“Paigey,” Drew whispers softly as he runs his finger through her delicate blonde hair, clearly sensing something’s wrong, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine Drew,” she means to keep her voice strong but it comes out as broken as she feels. 

“Paigey,” the little boy’s voice is more worried now, “should I call Azzi?” 

This time the whimper escapes before Paige can stop it as she tightly closes her eyes. She knows her brother means well; knows that Drew doesn’t really remember Paige without Azzi- doesn’t remember a time before his sister knew how to heal without the brunette’s touch. He’d watched Paige celebrate all her victories with Azzi and he’d seen the same girl hold his sister in all her tragedies, putting her back together every time she broke with promises of you’ll have always have me. From the moment Drew was old enough to understand his sister’s feelings, he was also perceptive enough to understand that Azzi was always what she needed, no matter how she was feeling. And it’s still true, Paige thinks; she wants nothing more than to say yes, wants nothing more than for Drew to call Azzi, so Paige can tell her how much she fucking misses her- how much she fucking needs her. 

Perhaps it's pride or maybe it’s fear, but Paige doesn’t say what she wants. Instead she vigorously shakes her head in her brother’s lap, “n-no it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s late and Azzi’s busy-”

“Azzi’s never too busy for you,” Drew says indignantly, “I’m gonna call her.”

“Drew stop,” Paige’s voice is much firmer this time as she wraps a strong arm around her little brother’s knee, stopping him from moving, “we’re not calling Azzi.”

She could tell him now. After all, she’s going to have to when he inevitably asks why he hasn’t seen Azzi -why he hasn’t seen the girl who’s been a part of his life for more than half of it- in so long. But even though the words sit scratchily on the tip of her tongue, she still isn’t quite ready to spit them out; isn’t quite ready to confront reality. 

“Why not,” petulance coats Drew’s tone. 

“Because I’m fine and I don’t need- I don’t want to talk to her,” Paige lies. 

The little boy scoffs, “you always want to talk to her.”

He doesn’t know the way that simple sentence turns the cracked pieces of Paige’s heart into dust as she tightens her grips on his leg, “Drew please- please just let it go.”

“Why,” Drew argues stubbornly, “why can’t we call her.”

“We just-” Paige’s voice breaks, as she scrambles to wipe her tears before they can wet her little brother’s shirt, “we just can’t okay?”

And there must be something in her voice -the anguish that no amount of trying is able to hide- that Drew pieces together to understand that this isn’t a battle he can win, no matter how much he and Paige might both want him to. The young boy slowly droops his body back to its reclining position, his fingers returning back to Paige’s hair as he begins to stroke her head again. 

“It’s gonna be okay Paigey,” he whispers with all the hopeful innocence of a blissfully naive little boy, “everything gonna be okay.”

And god does Paige want to believe him. But the courtside seats were empty tonight. And she’s in the DMV with no plans to see the Fudds- to see Azzi. And she’ll never know the ending to that stupid book on her bedside table. 

She wants to believe Drew but Paige isn’t sure how anything’s ever going to be okay again. 

***

May 2033 

It should be a joyful moment -the three most important people in her life congregating together- but instead as Paige quietly observes the scene in her living room -Drew silently seething, Azzi fidgeting nervously with her thumbs and Stephie babbling away amidst it all- she feels suffocated by this heavy gray cloud of apprehension lingering above her head. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been on edge for a couple of days now, since training camp had begun to be precise. Since she’d moved to the Bay Area, everything else in Paige’s world had been eclipsed by Azzi and Stephie. The mother-daughter duo were all-consuming and if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been more than happy to let her thoughts -and her heart- be consumed by nothing but the two of them. 

It had been so easy to forget everything else and the tentative verbal three-way deal she technically had with the Valkyries and the Liberty had pretty much ceased to exist in her thoughts. That is until Angie Davis -the lynchpin in this agreement- had been selected, just as everyone had predicted, to the Valkyries. The Stanford PG had shown up to training camp with a shy smile and an eagerness to learn that all the rest of the vets on the team had warmly embraced. But all Paige saw in the girl was the ticking time bomb of a decision she’d forgotten she’d have to make. And it isn’t just the reminder of the decision that has Paige feeling at unease; it’s why she has to make this decision in the first place, the reason behind why she’d agreed to this deal in the first play, why she’d been so adamant for Talia to make sure she didn’t get stuck here. 

Eight years ago, Azzi Fudd had broken her heart and Paige has spent every moment since, trying to collect the shattered pieces and reassemble them. 

And the last thing Paige had wanted to do was give Azzi the hammer to smash her barely fixed heart again. 

That’s what it had felt like when Talia had first brought up the Valkyries offer. It wasn’t that she and Azzi hadn’t been in each other’s orbit the last couple of years -it was impossible not to- but since the breakup, they’d never been around each other long enough, never quite been in the right situations, for that opportunity to present itself again. But Paige had known that if she came to the Valkyries, it would be an inevitability. That belief had only been strengthened the day she’d visited the Bay Area. She’d been adamant from the second she’d gotten on the flight that she couldn’t be persuaded to join Golden State, no matter how much she respected the organization and how well she’d fit into their system; no matter how much she adored the city and its love for her favorite sport.

But then she’d met a little girl who had an identical smile to the one that had held her captive since she was fifteen and barely knew what love was. And if Stephie with her doe-eyed wisdom that Paige would look great in purple wasn’t enough, then there was Azzi. Paige had expected Azzi to tell her to decline the offer. In a way that’s what she wanted; the masochistic need to feel the sting of that rejection again so she wouldn’t be tempted to burn herself in the fire again. But the brunette had done the opposite and Paige had known by just how quick her resolve had succumbed, that she’d been right to fear the inevitability. And it was that fear that had prompted the verbal agreement with the Liberty; an escape plan she’d forgotten she’d devised. 

Because escaping had been the last thing on Paige’s mind the last few weeks. 

All of Paige’s fears and apprehension had seemed to take a backseat the moment Azzi had smiled -hesitant but real- and said she was ready to try, the moment Stephie’s tiny hands had fit perfectly into her own. 

But she can feel it all coming back now, bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over like lava, wiping out this paradise she’s been in with Stephie and Azzi. It had started with the reminder of the Liberty deal but it’s Drew’s presence -his scowl directed at Azzi that feels like one of a brother still betrayed on his sister’s behalf- that had heightened it. Her little brother’s anger, and the genuine hurt that lingers behind it, feels like a dark reminder of Paige’s own heartbreak. 

Suddenly she feels like she’s 23, playing her first WNBA game and instead of celebrating a solid debut, she’s sobbing in her little brother’s lap over the girl who had walked away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige looks down to find Stephie crawling into her lap, “are we ready to order the pizza now?”

The little girl’s arms wrapping around her neck eases some of Paige’s discomfort as she smiles down at Stephie. 

“I’ve been ready for ages. You were the one yapping away,” she teases. 

Stephie pouts, “I don’t yap,” she turns her body towards Azzi, “Mama I don’t yap do I?”

Azzi’s own tense body seems to relax a little as she smirks at the two of them, “you definitely yap Stephie-”

“Mama,” Stephie protests, looking betrayed. 

“But not nearly as much as your Miss Buecks yaps,” Azzi’s eyes twinkle with mirth as Paige splutters, jaw dropping open with mock offense, “between the two of you, it’s a miracle my poor ears haven’t fallen off.”

“Just for that I’m not adding veggies to the pizza,” Paige sticks her tongue out, causing Stephie to giggle and Azzi to roll her eyes at the display of immaturity. 

Paige slips out her phone, pulling up their usual pizza place on doordash and quickly plugs in her memorized orders for everyone in the room as Stephie gets herself comfortable on the blonde’s lap. The five-year old leans her head back against Paige’s chest, who instinctively wraps her free hand around Stephie’s waist, keeping her securely in place. 

“So uncle Drew,” Stephie says with a grin, slightly leaning forward as she addresses the man sitting rigidly on the edge of the sofa, “did Miss Buecks yap a lot when she was younger too.”

“Be careful how you answer that,” Paige warns with a good natured glare in her brother’s direction, trying to lighten his mood. 

It works to an extent as a small smirk slips onto the edges of Drew’s lip, “oh she was a chronic yapper.”

“What does che-ronic mean?” Stephie asks, scrunching her nose in confusion.

Drew laughs, eyes glittering with mischief, “it means she didn’t know when to shut up.”

“Drew Thomas,” Paige guffaws, “you’re supposed to be my little brother, protecting your older sister’s honor and all of that.”

“Hey,” Drew raises his hand in surrender, “my older sister taught me to never lie, especially not to children.”

“Did you really talk that much?” Stephie asks, turning to Paige with wide eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him Stephie-bean,” the blonde says, brushing her hands through Stephie’s curls, “it’s all bullsh-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses immediately as the older woman bites her lip to stop the curse word from escaping. 

“Bullsharks,” Paige amends, “fake news. False advertising. I was a calm and quiet kid for sure.”

Drew snorts, leaning back into the sofa and Paige lets out a soft sigh of relief at seeing her brother relax. Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, feeling a sense of calmness when she sees the younger girl’s nervous fidgeting has stilled and there’s a tentative smile on her face. 

 “You weren’t calm or quiet,” he says pointedly. 

“Was too,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Yes you were,” Drew presses, “Stephie if you don’t believe me, ask your Mama,” he turns to Azzi, “tell her Azzi. She literally yapped your ear off into becoming your friend.”

Azzi blanches, clearly shocked at having been so cavalierly addressed, and even Paige is a little surprised by the expectant “agree with me look” that Drew is giving the brunette after having spent the last moments practically glaring at her. But really it probably shouldn’t be that surprising. Because Drew and Paige are cut from the same material and letting Azzi into the folds seems to just come naturally to both of them. And it’s so familiar to when they’d all been years and years younger -two college students and a little boy - so familiar to the countless nights spent in Minnesota and DC and Connecticut where several silly arguments like this between Paige and Drew had ultimately ended with them both turning to Azzi -the forever moderator- in hopes that she’d side with them. 

She’d always sided with Drew -much to Paige’s chagrin, though she’d been secretly enamored by the relationship between her girlfriend and her brother- and this time is no different as Azzi shakes off the shock, replacing it with a cheeky expression. 

“Didn’t shut up for 14 whole hours,” she laments, her voice filled with teasing but she smiles at the blonde as if she’s reminiscing it, reminiscing the moment that began it all for them and Paige can’t help the hopelessly sappy smile she gives her in return. 

“14 hours? You talked for 14 whole hours, Miss Buecks?” Stephie’s eyes are comically large as she echoes the number. 

“Of course not,” Paige defends, eyebrows creasing as she glares at the other two adults in the room, “this is bullying. Stephie,” she whines, nuzzling her head into the little girl’s neck, “they’re ganging up on me.”

“There there Miss Buecks,” Stephie says diligently as she pats at the older woman’s cheek. 

“We’re just telling the truth,” Drew shrugs. 

“Exactly,” Azzi nods solemnly, “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

She grins, reaching her hand out for a high five and Paige watches as Drew raises his own hand, ready to reciprocate. For a second it feels like everything is coming together; like the past could just stay in the past. But then he stops midair. The easy smile fades from his face and the previous tautness comes rushing back. He pulls his hand back, turning away from Azzi, who’s face slowly falls back. The lightheartedness from mere seconds ago is replaced by the tension from before and that burden of all that’s happened between us returns as a heavy weight pressed against Paige’s heart. 

“Paigey used to yap a lot,” Drew says slowly, “like I said you couldn’t get her to shut up and then one day,” he pauses, angry eyes darting towards Azzi, “one day she just got quiet- she shut up- she stopped yapping all the time.”

“Why?” Stephie asks softly, her tone a mixture of concern and genuine curiosity. 

Paige’s arm tightens around the little girl in her lap as she shoots her brother a pleading look, “Drew-”

“Because someone-” there’s so much venom in the word that it makes Azzi visibly flinch and Paige wants to soothe away the creases forming in her forehead, “someone broke her heart. And it took years- it took years to get her back to normal, to get her yapping again. To get my sister back to who she was.”

There’s pindrop silence as Drew seethes at his own words and Azzi rapidly blinks back tears, until Stephie turns around in Paige’s lap, tiny hands cupping the blonde’s face as she tries not to let her emotions show in front of the little girl. 

“Someone broke your heart?” Stephie looks so upset by the idea that Paige wants to vehemently deny it, “how could anyone break your heart Miss Buecks?”

She means well -just a child concerned for one of her favorite people- but she has no idea of the dagger she’s just twisted in her own mother’s heart as a faint whimper escapes Azzi’s lips. Paige opens and closes her mouth, hopelessly looking at the brunette who’s digging her fist into the sofa, despair embedded all over her face. 

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say. 

“Don’t worry kid,” Drew cuts in instead, his voice steady and firm, “it happened once but I won’t-” his eyes burn with fire as he looks at Azzi, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Stephie,” Paige says quietly after a moment, her gaze transfixed on Azzi whose doing her absolute best not to let her emotions show in front of her little girl, “sweetheart how ‘bout you show Uncle Drew around the house.”

“I don’t want to see the house,” Drew says petulantly as he stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest

“Yes. You. Do.” Paige grits out, trying not to curse when her younger brother rolls his eyes at her. 

“C’mon Uncle Drew,” Stephie says cheerfully as she slips off of Paige’s lap and reaches a hand out for the man instead, “Miss Buecks has a really cool house and maybe we can go steal some of her cool clothes.”

Drew sighs but he’s not immune to Stephie’s infectious energy. A hint of a grin sneaks through the cracks as he accepts the little girl’s offer. Stephie starts to pull him towards the staircase but the perceptive girl stops for a second in front of her mother, a cautious look on her face as Azzi musters up a grin to mollify the little girl's concern and Drew adamantly averts looking at the other woman. 

“Go on bean,” Azzi urges softly, keeping her shaky voice under control, “go show him the house.”

Stephie nods before gently pressing her lips against Azzi’s cheeks, eliciting a deep breath from her mother, before she practically drags Drew towards the staircase, already speaking a mile per minute.  

There’s a pause, filled with a combination of the quiet rumble of Stephie blabbering upstairs and Azzi’s uneven breathing. Then the tears that the brunette had been trying so hard to barricade behind her eyelids starts cascading down her cheeks and Paige almost trips on her own feet as she moves towards her. She falls to her knees in front of Azzi, gently brushing her against her cheek, before wrapping her hands around her tightly formed fists. 

“Baby don’t cry. Please I hate it when you cry,” Paige whispers softly, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s, “he’s just-”

“He’s right,” Azzi cuts her off, shaking her head. 

“Az-”

“He hates me-”

“He doesn’t-”

“He does,” Azzi presses, her tears falling faster now, “and he should. Paige I did break your heart,” they both flinch at the blunt statement, “and he doesn’t trust me because of it and he hasn’t forgiven me for it. I haven’t forgiven me for it.”

“Baby,” Paige echoes again, unsure what else to say. 

“Have you forgiven me?” 

The question lingers in the air as Azzi looks expectantly at her and Paige stumbles over her words, trying to find the right ones. She doesn’t really know how to answer the questions; hadn’t been expecting to be confronted with it tonight. Paige wants to say yes; she wants to take away Azzi’s guilt so fucking bad. These last few weeks had been so perfect, Paige had convinced herself she was over what had happened almost a decade ago. But if she’s honest with herself -if she’s honest to the memories of every night she’d spent sobbing into her pillows, missing the girl in front of her and resenting her for walking away- Paige doesn’t really know if she has forgiven Azzi. 

“Paige?” Azzi ask again, her voice breaking on the one syllable. 

Paige’s face crumbles as she looks at the girl defenselessly, “ Az, I-”

The doorbell rings at the exact moment and Stephie comes excitedly barrelling down the staircase as the two women scramble away from each other, trying to compose themselves. 

“Miss Buecks, Mama,” the younger girl hollers, “pizza’s here.”

Paige looks at Azzi who’s rushing to wipe away the remnants of her tears. She opens her mouth, desperately willing herself to find something, anything that could offer the girl in front of her some comfort; that could take their relationship away from the precipice of this cliff they’ve somehow found themselves on. But the right words don’t materialize and instead Paige closes her mouth and turns away, slowly heading towards Stephie as Azzi’s question continues to wreak havoc in her mind. 

And she wishes she could rewind the clock and freeze them where they had been just a couple of hours ago, freeze them in a moment where the past hadn’t weighed so heavily on the present. But perhaps the past had always been there and they’d simply just done a marvelous job ignoring it. Except tonight, they can’t seem to ignore it anymore. 

***

Paige thinks pizza has never tasted so terrible in her life. The mood at her basically unused dining table is numbingly sober; even Stephie has stopped her chatter, the little girl clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere around her as she quietly nibbles away at her slice of pizza. It’s in stark contrast to the innumerable dinners they’d had in the last three weeks; the three of them -Paige, Azzi and Stephie in between them- at the table or the counter or sometimes even the couch, raucous with laughter and smiles. Paige doesn’t understand how moments can shift like this; how last night could have been filled with giggles and grins and tonight is filled with nothing but a silence filled with too many unspoken words.

Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, who’s making a concerted effort to keep her own everted from both Bueckers siblings. The brunette’s question from before feels like a loud horn blaring in Paige’s ears, one that she can’t seem to find the off-switch for no matter how hard she searches for it. They’re barely a couple feet apart, sitting opposite each other with Drew next to Paige and Stephie next to Azzi, but the width of the table feels like it stretches for miles. Paige misses the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against hers, misses the sly brush of their hands before their fingers would inevitably curl around each other’s underneath the table where Stephie couldn’t see. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige swallows, trying to shake off the feeling of is this us crumbling again, as she diverts attention to Stephie who’s smiling at her with that cheeky grin that means she wants something. 

“What’s up Stephie-bean?” Paige asks and she’s convinced there’s magic in the little girl’s existence because despite the tightness she still feels in her chest, having Stephie close feels like a reason for her to breathe through it. 

“Can I have a soda?” Stephie asks, using the palm of her hands to frame her slightly tilted face as she juts out her bottom lip in a pleading. 

Paige grins, ready to concede as she often is with the little girl but Azzi speaks first, “no soda Stephie.”

Stephie pouts, “why not?”

“Because I said so,” Azzi says bluntly and Paige is taken back by the sharpness of it. 

“Mama please,” Stephie begs, “please, please, please.”

“No Stephie,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s tone but Stephie doesn’t pay much heed to it continuing to plead and the irritation on her mother’s face -clearly exacerbated by other things- gets more and more apparent. 

“Please Mama. Pizza just doesn’t go down right without soda,” the little girl argues, “can I please just have a little bit. Just a teeny tiny bit Please, please pretty please please-”

“Stephie, no” Azzi repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose as Drew and Paige exchange nervous glances. 

“Stephie, yes,” the little girl argues, stubbornly crossing her hands over her chest. 

“Ste-”

“I want soda. I want soda. Please, please, please, plea-”

“I said no Stephanie,” Azzi all but yells, startling Stephie into being quiet and making both Drew and Paige flinch. The little girl is wide-eyed for a second -not used to anything but her mother’s normally gentle way of dealing with her occasional brattiness- before her lips begin to tremble and big fat tears begin to spill down her cheeks. She scrambles out of her chair, beelining towards Paige and climbing onto her lap as she burrows her face into the blonde’s neck, wetting her shirt with tears. 

“Shhh, shhh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige whispers to the little girl, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as she strokes her hair. 

She glances at Azzi, who’s adamantly looking, her face stone cold but regret gleaming in her eyes, “Az-”

“No,” the younger woman says immediately. 

“C’mon,” Paige says exasperatedly, “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“If it’s about giving her a soda, I don’t wanna hear it,” Azzi warns, “you can’t just give into all of her demands all the time, you have to learn to say no and she needs to learn to hear it.”

“I hear you but Az it’s a Friday-”

“Paige-”

“A tiny bit of soda to start the weekend can’t hurt. In fact,” Paige smirks down at the little girl in her lap as she coaxes Stephie’s face out of her neck so she can wipe away the tears on her blotchy red face, “I think a little soda to start the weekend is probably good for you.”

She feels her heart soar when it makes Stephie giggle, letting out a couple teary hiccoughs in between as she clutches onto Paige. 

“I think so too Mama,” the little girl echoes, looking back at her mother with a timid grin. 

“Give in Azzi,” Paige matches the pleading smile on Stephie’s face as she turns her focus onto the brunette, “she deserves a little treat 

“I know what she deserves. I think I know what’s good for my daughter,” Azzi says steely and Paige feels something cold squeezing through her ribcage, “no soda Stephie. End of discussion.”

My daughter. 

The thing is Paige doesn’t even really think she has the right to be upset over Azzi’s statements. Really, it’s nothing but the truth. Stephie is Azzi’s daughter and Azzi definitely knows what’s good for her daughter. So why does it sting like this? Why does it feel like little shards of ice piercing into her heart, leaving deep gashes that have her whole body feeling like it’s freezing over? Paige knows why, knows that these past weeks had been enough to trick her mind into believing the mirage that Stephie was hers. But now Azzi’s flicked her fingers against it causing the whole fantasy to come crashing down and Paige feels herself slowly getting buried under the rubble of it. 

“Right," she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady, “she’s your daughter and you know best,” she ignores the tinge of guilt in Azzi’s eyes as she turns to Stephie who looks like she’s ready to protest again, “you heard your Mama Stephie. No soda tonight.”

“But Miss Buecks-” Stephie whines. 

“No sweetheart,” Paige says gently, shaking her head. 

The little girl narrows her eyes before letting out a frustrated groan as she slips off of Paige’s lap. She loudly stomps her feet, glaring at all the adults in the room before she angrily storms upstairs. It’s so unlike the usually even-keeled little girl that Paige thinks it’s probably a reaction to the tension she can sense between the adults. Her eyes drift over Drew -who’s chewing at his lips in a similar manner to how his big sister often does- before locking with Azzi’s and she feels that familiar guilt of there’s always collateral damage for our mistakes pooling at the pit of her stomach. The brunette breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh before she follows behind her daughter and Paige lets her face fall into her hands, 

It feels like everything’s in free fall, like during an earthquake when everything shakes and the books -the complicatedly tangled stories of the past and present- go flying from their shelves. Paige rubs at her eyelids, trying to make this helpless feeling go away. Her fingers are coiled tightly around a rope, just like they had been on that night eight years ago and just like that night, she can feel the tips of them starting to bleed. She can feel Drew’s gaze fixated on her; can tell he’s contemplating whether to say something or not. Swallowing, Paige pulls her face out of her palms to look at her brother, a decisively defiant expression on her face. 

“Something you wanna say?” she asks him, cocking her eyebrows as if she’s daring him to speak. 

Drew hesitates for a second before an almost identical expression crosses his face, “what the fuck are you doing Paige?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige replies airly. 

Drew narrows his eyes at her, “seriously?”

“Seriously,” Paige shrugs. 

“This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement Paige,” Drew says, ignoring the way his sister flinches at the reminder as he drops his voice lower so they can’t be overheard, “you were supposed to be with Golden State for one season, hopefully win a championship and then you’d be off to New York at the end. That was the plan but clearly all of that has gone flying out the window. You’re getting attached to this city, this life, to them.” 

A barely believable “of course I’m not,” flutters weakly off of Paige’s lip as she blinks rapidly at the accusation. 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Drew curses, “Paige your bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in, in days. There’s almost no groceries in your fridge or your pantry. From what I saw of the garden, it’s basically been left for dead. Your closet is half empty and it sure as shit isn’t because they’re all in the laundry because as Stephie puts it, Azzi says that their laundry basket is three times heavier than it used to be with all your clothes.”

“I-I don’t-” Paige stutters, “that- that doesn’t- doesn’t mean-”

“It’s been two months -if even that- two months Paige and I think you're in even deeper now than you were the last time,” Drew spits the last two words out bitterly like their flames on the tip of his tongue and the sparks of it singe Paige’s skin. 

“That’s not- I’m not-” she tries to justify but it sounds hollow to her own ears. 

“You are,” Drew says exasperatedly, “what are you gonna do when she walks away again? When she lets you go again, what are you gonna do Paige?”

Her little brother isn’t cruel but Paige swears she’s never heard anything more aimed to hurt than these perfectly directed arrows he’s launching straight at her heart. The defense of she’s not going to leave me stays stuck in her throats, battling against the harsh thoughts of she already has that are taunting her. 

“She- I- you- this- I don’t- you can’t-” Paige doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say; she feels like a fish spluttering outside of the water, desperate to breathe air that seems to kill her the more she inhales it. 

Drew looks away, his face crumpling slightly, a mixture of sadness and guilt gleaming in his eyes, and Paige can tell that he hates himself a little for being the one to cause her this torment, the one to make her face the darkest possibility of her reality. 

“I was there Paige,” he says softly, “I was the one who watched you break in ways that I didn’t even think you were breakable,” his voice snaps, “and I was the one who watched how hard you had to work to put yourself back together. I don’t wanna see any of that again.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers. 

“And it wasn’t just her,” Drew continues, “you lost her family too.”

Paige gulps at the reminder, “they were still there. They came to games. They were at my wedding.”

Drew shakes his head, “but it wasn’t the same and you know it. You lost her and you lost them and this time,” he bites his lip, like he wishes the next words weren’t sitting on his vocal chords, waiting to spill out, “this time, if you lose her, you’ll lose a lot more.”

“What do you-” Paige heistates, unsure if she even wants to ask, “what do you mean?”

Her little brother pauses, mouth opening and closing like it’s painful to speak, before his eyes drift towards the stairs and Paige feels her heart sinking even before Drew says the words she knows he’s about to say. 

“You’ll lose her daughter. You’ll lose Stephie.”

“No,” the whispered syllable is out before Paige can even stop it, “no, no, no, no-”

“Paige-”

“Stop it Drew,” the blonde says louder than she wanted to as she clutches at her heart, trying to keep it whole as the tears overflow over her waterline. 

“Stop what Paige? Stop saying things you already know deep down but are choosing to ignore? Is that what you want me to stop doing?” Drew asks harshly. 

“Drew-”

“There’s a reason you didn’t want to commit to the Valkyries and you know it. There’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season.” her younger brother says firmly. 

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know.”

Drew’s eyes soften, “stick to plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

Paige bites her lip so hard, she can taste that morbid taste of iron on her lips as she opens her mouth to say something. She’s not sure if it’s to argue with Drew or to agree and she doesn’t get a chance to find out. Instead there’s a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet, timid voice laced with accusation and Paige feels the blood drain out of her body as she slowly turns around to find Stephie and Azzi -their faces ashen with identical expressions of betrayal- staring at her. 

“Miss Buecks, you’re moving to New York?”

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinkmas (11)- The Grinch Who Stole Her Heart

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: When a certain witch discovers your hate for Christmas, she can't help but try her best into convincing you to love the festive season.

Word Count: 10.8k 

Warnings/Tags: Friends to Lovers, Slow burn, Fluff, Domestic Avengers, Christmas Fluff, Flirting, Crushes, Mutual Pining, Christmas Decorating, Gingerbread houses, Ice Skating, Snowball Fights, Soft Smut, First time, Inexperienced Wanda/Experienced Reader, Fingering, Praise, Confessions, Aftercare 

Kinkmas Masterlist

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Gentle chatter and a tranquil, festive atmosphere wrapped around the common room of the compound like a warm, cosy blanket, most of the team bunched up on various sofas with snacks ready in hand, waiting for Wanda to finally press the play button to start Home Alone on the big screen.

The witch, however, was not ready to start the movie, her eyes flickering over the content and excited faces of the team, searching for one individual in particular.

You.

Where were you?

"Where's Y/n?" Wanda asked, puzzled, the soft murmur in the room going quiet, curious and confused gazes meeting one another at the brunette's question, apprehensive to tell the truth.

Natasha carefully placed down the bowl of popcorn that was in her lap, inadvertently stopping Clint from stealing more of the treat which made him grumble a little, the redhead looking between the rest of the team, not wanting to dampen the young woman's mood.

It had become abundantly clear over the last few days and since the start of December that Wanda was in love with the idea of Christmas and all the festive traditions, the team having tried their best to keep you away from her, despite the witch subconsciously seeking you out, her mind unable to explain why her heart would flutter in your presence, her mood always being lifted by you.

"Y/n isn't a 'fan' of Christmas," Natasha cautiously phrases her words, not wanting to ruin the mood that was so gratefully appreciated in the room, the uplifted mood of Christmas enabling the mighty Avengers to have some time to relax and spend together as a family.

"What?" Wanda's tone signalling her confusion at how someone could possibly not like Christmas, her head tilting in her usual manner, Pietro speeding from the sofa to stand with his sister, seemingly just as baffled.

"How can she not be a fan of Christmas?" Pietro adds, just as obsessed with the festive season as his sister, his love for it being driven by the sheer amount of food and presents though.

"She just..." Natasha trails off, thinking how to explain your lack of jolliness, her eyes flickering to Clint for a little help. The archer simply shrugs, her leg kicking back at his shin for his lack of usefulness, a small yelp escaping him as he grabs the popcorn bowl, deciding that the food would be a sufficient apology from her.

"She hates it," Tony bluntly puts it, everyone's head turning from the sofas to the billionaire in the kitchen, fixing himself a ridiculously large hot chocolate in the beautifully decorated kitchen, annoyance written across Steve and Natasha's face as they wanted to keep it a peaceful evening.

"She doesn't 'hate' it," Steve tries to reason, his blue eyes flickering towards Sam and Bucky who are disinterested in what's going on, most likely bickering between themselves over who gets more room on the sofa.

"Oh come on Capsicle," Tony teases, Steve's cheeks darkening at the nickname the man uses for him, mumbling under his breath an 'oh god' at the billionaire's mischievous tone. "She hates it. End of. We've all tried to get her to like it but she just refuses to enjoy the Christmas spirit," he says whilst placing his steaming mug down, flopping onto his section of the sofa and asking Friday to lower the lights, wanting to watch the film now. "Now, are we going to watch the film or not?" He asks, clearly not bothered by your absence.

"Not all of us have tried," Wanda says after a moment, tossing the remote to Natasha, hoping she'd somehow keep the boys in check, knowing the chaos the entire team could cause without her magic there to stop objects flying across the room. "Start the film without me," Wanda calls out, walking out of the room, determined to find your room and figure out a way to persuade you into falling in love with the magical season.

Despite not figuring out a plan, the brunette knocks on your door with purpose, waiting outside for you to open up, various thoughts flooding through her mind as she impatiently plays with the rings on her fingers.

Eventually, you open your bedroom door, your brow raising at her current outfit, a smug smirk creeping onto your lips. The Christmas themed pyjamas amused you as you let your eyes wander down the various festive items decorating the fabric, the red and green chequered pants slightly too long for her as they pooled around her ankles, the fluffy socks further entertaining you as you stood in a simple, thin shirt and joggers, a stark contrast to her holiday themed get up.

"What-"

"Why do you hate Christmas?" she asks, enticing green eyes gazing into yours curiously, your eyes widening at her forward question, a soft chuckle escaping you, Wanda unable to stop the swarm of butterflies in her stomach at the sound.

"Why do you love Christmas?" You counter, leaning against the door frame as you see various emotions flicker across her face, your features softening at her adorably annoyed state.

"Why do I love Christmas?" She repeats almost shocked, still baffled at the whole ordeal, "It's just magical," her tone laced with the love she has for the time of year. "It's a time to spend with family, to give gifts, to have fun with silly traditions," she lists, watching closely to your reactions as your soft expression remains uninterested.

"Just seems like a lot of effort to me," you casually say, her brows furrowing at your words, mouth parting and closing, unsure of what to say. "Is that all you wanted to ask? I'm currently in the middle of a mission report," your tone is annoyingly soft and calm, determination brewing in Wanda to show you how amazing Christmas was but still unsure how.

"No, I..." she trails off for a moment, tilting her head marginally to the side as she thinks hard about how to convince you. "Do you really hate it?" She asks, tone trying her best to hide the disappointment that filled her, your smile softening, body pushing yourself off the frame of the door to look at her properly, still amused at her clothing.

"It's just not for me, Wanda," your tone apologetic as you gathered how much she loved the season, your heart clenching a little at the despondent look that took over her face, wishing you could ensure a smile was always on her lips, only ever wanting her to be happy.

"Ok," she whispers, slowly nodding at your words and turning around to retreat to where the rest of the team was, a sudden idea entering her mind as she hears you shutting the door. "Give me one week," her tone desperate and rushed as your hand halted, opening the door with a confused look, laughing softly as she quickly walked back over to the door, fluffy socks sliding a little on the smooth floor.

"What?" your tone matches the curiosity engraved on your face, smile widening at the glint of hope in her eyes.

"Give me one week to show you how magical Christmas is," she explains further, her enchanting green eyes almost putting you under a spell, part of you contemplating giving into her despite your dislike for everything about December 25th. Your face shows your conflicted state, Wanda taking your delayed response as a win, her nose scrunching up in a way that has your heart beating wildly in your chest, an inexplicable onrush of affection flowing through you. "Please?" she adds, excitement creeping into he tone as you sigh out heavily, unable to resist the soft spot you had for her, a smile gracing your features.

"One week," you begrudgingly say, a smile still present on your face though as her lips stretch into a wide grin, joy filling her as various ideas flood through her mind, ready to warm you up to the season.

***

"I'm not so sure you're trying to convince me," you mutter, lifting the heavy box of decorations and trudging your way towards her room, "I feel like you're just using me for slave labour," you grumble, peaking over the box to watch your step, bumping into the corner of the door frame before dropping the box onto the floor, a rattle of baubles filling the room.

"If you stopped complaining and acting like the grinch this would be a whole lot easier," she teases, crouching down and opening the box, looking up at you with a small smirk that has you rolling your eyes, happiness taking over your chest as you follow her command.

"The grinch is an icon," you mumble, flickering your gaze away from the aesthetic decorations in the box and into her alluring green, finding them far more interesting than the shiny plastic objects.

"Yeah? And why is that?" Her tone is playful and cheerful, eliciting an involuntary smile from you as you struggle to maintain your composure near her, the crush you thought you had gotten over seeming to resurface, her brow raising expectantly as she waits for you to continue.

"He lives in a mountain with his dog, away from people, sounds like heaven to me," your tone slightly sarcastic, earning a soft laughter from her, her eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. Her gaze drifts away from you as her own heart starts to beat wildly in her chest at being able to spend time with you, her lips pulling up into a shy smile. "And he's green," you add, a humorous grin taking over your face, cracking her composure.

A giggle leaves her lips at your tone, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tries to stifle her laugh, her eyes meeting yours with an amused glimmer in them, your smile widening as warmth floods through you in a tender manner.

"What's so special about the colour green?" She manages to ask when she stops laughing, entertained by your words, reluctantly turning her back away from you as she moves towards the tree in her room with a bundle of lights, beckoning you over as she untangles them, wanting your help to decorate her room as she hadn't had time to do it yet.

It's the colour of your eyes is what you initially think of saying, a small blush appearing on your cheeks as you rethink an answer, grateful she wasn't looking at you as you thought it, her head soon looking back over her shoulder as you don't answer.

"I don't know," you unconvincingly respond, shoulders shrugging, "It's just a cool colour." Wanda chuckles, clearly not believing your vague answer as she looks at your form over her shoulder, playfully shaking her head before continuing to wrap the lights around the pine tree while you gradually make your way over to her, your attention flickering over to her desk.

"Oh my god," you laugh out, admiring the framed photograph of Wanda and Pietro dressed up for Halloween in Sokovia, chuckling at their ridiculous outfits. "Pietro looks like Fury with that eye patch," you snicker out, Wanda rushing over to you and sliding the photo out of your hands, embarrassed by her toothy grin in it, a smile still on her face as she hears your genuine laugh, her gaze moving to the photo of her and her brother that she always loved.

"He wanted to be his own version of a pirate," she explains with a nostalgic tone, placing down the photo while you just admire her features, getting lost in thought again, the feelings you tried to bury trying their best to take over you as you simply smile at her softly, a tender expression taking over her face at your enamoured gaze.

"I bet he was just as annoying as a child as he is now," you tease, making her laugh again, your heart melting at being able to hear the sound again, the brunette placing an ornament in your hand to stop you procrastinating, sensing your attempt at stalling her plans.

"Even more," she jokes, her fingers brushing over yours softly, the touch engraved in your memory as they pull away from you, Wanda snapping you out of your thoughts as she continues. "Now come on, we have a tree to decorate," her tone adding excitement to it as you let out a displeased grumble, still smiling at her though.

Maybe, just maybe, the next week wasn't going to be as bad as you thought.

***

"I hope you know I'm only here because you promised me food," you mumble whilst your hand supports your head as you sit at the kitchen island, eyes wandering around the various decorations littered around the room then towards the woman in front of you, observing how she rolls out the gingerbread.

A soft, genuine smile takes over her face in amusement, her gaze lifting to meet your form watching her attentively, chuckling softly as she continues to measure out the dimensions for the house she intended on making, a playful and teasing expression taking over her angelic features.

"Is that so?" she asks, slicing through the dough she's rolled to create the walls of the house, your eyes trained on the deft way her fingers move, gaze lifting to watch her concentrate, in awe of her working. You knew Wanda loved to cook and bake, but to watch her properly, almost intimately, made you truly appreciate her love for the hobby.

"Yep," you say while popping the 'p', smiling at the way she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, a streak of powdered sugar visible against her skin, your teeth biting down on your lip to stop yourself from laughing at her cute state.

"Well if someone wants to eat they have to help," her tone reprimanding you for not helping her at all so far.

"I've helped," you say, pretending to take offence as she uses her magic to softly push you off the stool at the kitchen island, a small groan leaving you as you eventually wander around the kitchen to stand next to her. "Does moral support not mean anything anymore?" you mutter as she hands you a spoon, your fake mood crumbling away at the way she peers up at you with a raised brow, the streak of sugar making you smile.

"What?" she laughs out when you end up staring at her forehead too long, a nervous expression on her face as you grab a cloth from the countertop and delicately wipe away the mess on her skin, her cheeks a similar colour to her magic as she tries to control her emotions, a shy smile taking over her features as you meet her gaze with an affectionate look.

"There's my contribution," you joke, tossing the cloth back onto the countertop as Wanda sees the small smear of powdered sugar on the fabric, the wave of embarrassment never coming as you continue to smile at her, her head shaking at your antics.

"You're not getting out of it that easy," she chuckles out, setting up the bowl for you to make the icing in, handing you everything you'd need before checking on the gingerbread that was in the oven, making sure everything was going to plan.

After you've made the icing and the dough is baked to perfection as well as having cooled down, Wanda starts to put together the house with your help, deciding to ask Friday to help encourage the festive spirit by getting them to play the witch's Christmas playlist, an amused glint present in your eyes as you picture her listening to the music on her own, most likely dancing to each tune.

Your fingers carefully hold the wall of gingerbread, Wanda delicately piping the icing along the edges to help stabilise the structure, the smell of the freshly made treat making your mouth yearn to taste the delicious flavours, the other woman humming the tune to the song that was playing as you assembled the house together. Quicker than you expected, you had the house made and just in need of decorating, your gaze now on Wanda who softly sang the lyrics to 'Last Christmas', a mischievous smile taking over your face.

As if sensing your gaze on her, she met your admiring stare, her smile stretching that little bit wider as she lifts the spoon from the icing bowl, using it as a microphone as she keeps her enchanting eyes on you.

"Tell me, baby, do you recognise me?" she sings, her voice angelic as you can't help but watch in awe as she subtly dances near you, walking behind your body and enticing you to follow her. "Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me," her gentle voice sounding around the room, blessing your ears as she sings the iconic song, "'Happy Christmas', I wrapped it up and sent it, with a note saying 'I love you' I meant it, now I know what a fool I've been." Her words further lure you into being amazed by her, your body turning once again to follow her movements, her body next to yours as she places the bowls she's just collected on the countertop, her eyes lifting up to meet your enamoured gaze, "But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again." Your breath hitches at the way her eyes subconsciously drift to your lips before flickering back up, the soft, loving glint evident in her eyes as the gaze lingers, her only breaking the gaze when the desire to kiss you becomes too strong.

"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart but the very next day-"

"You sold it on ebay," you interrupt, a teasing smile on your lips as you steal the piping bag from her, a laugh spilling from her lips at your immature behaviour. "This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to Marks and Spencers," her hand lightly slaps your arm as you 'ruined' the chorus for her, her smile almost reaching her ears though at the pure joy you managed to fill her with, your arms raising in surrender as you see wisps of magic flicker at her fingers, knowing how she could torture you with ticklish sensations like she did a couple days ago when decorating the tree. "Ok, ok," you laugh out in surrender as the red tendrils brush over your skin, "Tesco extra instead of Marks and Spencers?"

She simply smacks you lightly once again on the shoulder, her hand lingering against your body before pulling back, rolling her eyes at your amused and smug smile, cheekily squeezing a little of the icing onto your finger to taste it.

"Mhmm delicious," you softly moan at the sweet treat, exaggerating your love for the simple food you made, Wanda stealing the bag back from you and pointing it at you like it was a weapon.

"Stop eating all the decorations," she mutters, using her magic to push away the bowl full of sprinkles, laughing softly at the way your hand misses and hits the table, a small pout forming on your lips.

"Fine," you grumble as she hands you the piping bag back, letting you have full reign on decorating the gingerbread house, something she'd inevitably regret.

***

A couple hours later you're sprawled out against the sofa, a bowl of the broken gingerbread house in your lap as you tilt your head to look at Wanda, once again admiring her features while she was fully immersed in whatever was playing on the tv.

Your eyes focus on each delicate feature of her face, trailing over the slight dust of pink on her cheeks, a few strands of brunette locks framing her face perfectly and the gentle slope of her nose before spending a little more time admiring her plump lips and eventually settling on her mesmerising eyes. Your heart clenched a little at her beauty, your gaze eventually being torn away from her as you knew you shouldn't think of her as more of a friend, to get lost in fantasy of what it would feel like to be with her all over again as you remember the pain of pushing it all down.

The soft giggle that left her lips immediately knocked you out of your thoughts, the smile that seemed ever present near her emerging once again as you raised your brow at her when you met her gaze, her nose scrunching in that captivating manner as red wisps form at the tips of her fingers once again.

"I thought we were going to share the gingerbread," She teases lightly, using her magic to steal a piece from you, your hand wrapping protectively around your bowl of treats.

"Woah, this is mine Maximoff," you defensively say, using her surname playfully, addicted to the taste of the icing you used to cover most of the crisp gingerbread, the aim of your decorations to give you a sugar overload. "I decorated it," you mumble, squinting your eyes at her when she floats over a larger piece from the bowl in faux annoyance, your hands placing the bowl down as there way no way you'd be able to stop her magic, your eyes watching with interest how the red tendrils delicately flow through the air.

"And I made it," she counters, biting into the corner of the roof, a pleased noise escaping her at the taste of it, the festive spirit further consuming her as the taste brings back many memories of past Christmases, a nostalgic look taking over her face momentarily.

"I thought you were trying to convince me to like Christmas," you joke as you lean back against the sofa, eyes trained on her as she raises her brow at your relaxed manner, continuing to eat her piece of gingerbread.

"I am, is it working?" She asks, smiling at you hopefully, her enthralling green solely focused on you making it hard to think straight and come up with your usual sarcastic remark. You pause for a moment, Wanda's head tilting in curiosity as you remain silent, a small blush forming on your cheeks as you gather yourself together.

"It would be if I got to eat all the gingerbread," you tease eventually, switching your gaze to something other than her alluring beauty, eyes landing on the various sweets stuck on the white icing.

"Is it actually working though?" She asks again, voice holding a more serious and intrigued tone compared to her joking tone, her green containing a hint of nerves as she really hoped it was.

Your mouth opens and closes to respond, unsure of what to say. If you were being honest, you didn't love the festive season any more, you simply enjoyed the last three days because you were with her.

"It hasn't changed my opinion on Christmas," you say softly, her face dropping a little making you continue, "But, I have had so much fun over the last few days, I... I've really enjoyed spending time with you," you fix her mood instantly, a blush taking over her face this time, her gaze flickering away from you, teeth biting down softly on her lower lip to try and contain her smile.

"Yeah?" she murmurs out a little timidly, gathering the courage to meet your softening gaze once more, the two of you smiling at each other, unaware of the swirling emotions in both of you. "Well still I've got four more days to fix that," she says, tone determined and adamant that she would persuade you, your smile growing that little bit wider at her confidence, part of you hoping she was right just to see that smile on her face.

***

"I'm not so sure about this Wanda," your voice a little shaky as your fingers grip the edge of the wall as tightly as possible, the ice skates you were wearing sliding on the ice in a manner than unnerved you, your eyes lifting to find Wanda only to see her skating off skilfully, turning back to you with a teasing look.

"Come on, I promise it's fun," she calls back, swarms of people brushing past you, further adding to your nerves as you hated how unstable you felt, her green eyes meeting yours through the crowd, sensing how uncomfortable you felt.

You watched a little embarrassed as she effortlessly skated over to you, the sound of screaming children nearby and the scratching of ice being blocked out as she comes closer to you, a different kind of anxiety flowing through you at her little smirk.

"Is the infamous Y/n, world hero and Avenger, scared of ice skating?" she teases softly, your eyes rolling at her comment. Just because you were an Avenger didn't mean you enjoyed activities like this.

"No..." you trailed off, your foot slipping slightly, Wanda watching how your body immediately tensed, knuckles bleeding white at your grip on the edge of the wall, her hand moving to your lower back to keep you stable, wanting to make sure you were alright. "Maybe just a little," you confess quietly, hoping she wouldn't find it a problem, her smile turning a little sympathetic. "It's scary ok? Steve got stuck in ice for like seventy plus years in it so it must be very dangerous," you explain, a genuine laugh slipping past her lips at your reasoning.

"It was only sixty six years," she corrects, your head shaking a little at her words, your mind processing where her hand was, a wave of butterflies taking over your body as your fingers adjust their grip on the cold edge.

"Do you trust me?" Her voice a gentle whisper, your mind focussing on her, only her as she looks at you as if you were the only thing going on in the ice rink, your head nodding as you couldn't muster any words to leave your mouth, far too nervous to not embarrass yourself any further.

Her hands gently clasp yours, her fingers intimately interlocking with yours, her soft gaze meeting your hesitant one, her feet guiding her backwards as she slides across the ice, pulling you carefully with her.

"Bend your knees a little," she instructs, trying to guide you into the best position so you wouldn't fall. You try to listen to her but the feeling of her impossibly soft hands in yours makes all common sense leave your mind, your body just about listening to her instructions. "Don't lean too far forwards if you don't want to fall," she playfully whispers, keeping you close to her as she can tell it's keeping you calm, her intoxicating perfume reaching your senses and further drowning you in the thought of her. "That's it," she praises softly, a small smile reaching your lips as you skate slightly on your own, still tightly gripping onto her, not that she minded.

The two of you did a few laps around the ring, your grip on her gradually decreasing as your confidence grew, the two of you stopping by a wall to relax for a moment, your cheeks and noses tinted pink from the cold room, smiles engraved on both of your faces.

Your smile widens when you see a child fall over, a snicker leaving your lips as you can't help it, Wanda playfully pushing you at your reaction, reprimanding your behaviour as the mother briefly looks over towards you two in annoyance, her child's face pulling into distress. Panic flashes across your face as you slip a little, your arm shooting out to wrap around hers, pulling yourself into her body, flush against her, making both of your blushes darken a little, her arm wrapping around you to keep you upright.

"Don't," you mumble when you feel her laugh against you, your body melting against hers as she keeps you stable and secure, her body also helping you keep warm.

"Don't what? Tease you?" She chuckles out, your head turning to meet her amused and mischievous gaze, breath hitching a little as you underestimated the space between you, your lips mere inches away from hers, both of your gazes drifting down to one another's mouths.

The heat that washes over you when her slightly darkened green meet yours causes you to straighten your back, pulling yourself further away from her face, your hand hesitantly reaching further down her arm to her fingers, interlocking them once again to try and keep your thoughts on anything but the longing to feel her lips on yours, a brief moment of courage washing through you when she doesn't pull back.

"I won't tease you," she whispers out once she's gotten control over her pounding heart, her cheeks still tinted pink as she smiles at your hand holding hers, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand, grateful for you being braver than her and initiating something. "But that doesn't mean I won't tell Nat," a soft laugh leaves you as you meet her eyes once more, sensing the mirth in them as she imagined the various ways the Russian would torment you.

"I'm never going to hear the end of it," you mumble, her nose scrunching at your tone, the action making you think it was worth any amount of teasing comments that Natasha could throw at you, the warmth that wrapped around your heart at her expression worth anything in the world as she drags you away from the wall again, skating with you, hand in hand.

***

A relentless pounding at your door has you reluctantly rolling out of bed, in dire need of a nap after the new workout Natasha wanted to try with you, your body ready to sink into your soft mattress and relax for just a little bit.

"You better have some more gingerbread," you mutter as you hear Wanda call your name through the door, your hand turning your door handle and opening, revealing the woman who consumed all your thoughts. "What-" A thick winter coat was thrown at you, your body not expecting the item making you take a step back, your eyes widening at Wanda in confusion as you properly took a hold of the clothing item, the coat a contrast to your oversized shirt and joggers.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" she sings in a teasing voice, a groan leaving your lips at the movie reference, a tired sigh leaving your lips.

"I just wanna sleep," you whine out as she simply walks into your room as you turn away, smiling at the way you still comply to her question, searching through your wardrobe for a thick jumper and pants, not wanting to freeze in the cold as snowflakes gracefully spilled from the sky, the grass surrounding the compound drowning in the white blanket of snow.

"You can sleep later," her tone amused at the way you shake your head at her, amazed at the way she has you wrapped around her finger as you shrug on the coat she tossed you, turning your head and sending a pointed look.

"This better be worth it," you mumble, her body coming closer to yours and fixing your hood as it was sticking out weird, her cold fingers brushing the back of your neck causing you to wake up a little more.

"Spending time with me is always worth it," she whispers, recalling how you confessed to her how you enjoyed being with her, a smile creeping onto your lips as you chuckle at her words, her eyes peering up into yours as you let her fix your outfit, unable to stop the warmth bubbling inside you.

"That is true," you murmur ever so softly, her smile widening as she lets her hands drift to your shoulders to smooth the coat out, growing in confidence near you after being together for the last four days constantly. "But sleep is pretty amazing too," you mumble, earning her signature nose scrunch, your heart beating that little bit faster at the enamoured look in her eyes.

"Come on," she sighs out, walking behind you and pushing you towards the door, struggling a little as you use your strength to keep you planted.

"Save me bed! She's trying to kidnap me," you call out dramatically, chuckling as she uses her magic to push you out of the door, you calling out of your bed once more, earning another string of laughter from her as she leads you out of the compound, walking side by side with you, letting your bodies brush.

A chill takes over your body as you trudge your way through the snow that's piling up, the sound of satisfying crunches and nearby birds filling the air as you let Wanda lead you to the best place to build her desired snowman. You watch with an affectionate gaze at her thick gloves and the scarf that's wrapped so tightly around her neck, the bobble hat that she stole from you moving with each step she takes, her head looking her shoulder at you, her smile almost reaching her ears.

You follow her until she stops, deciding this was the best location to build it, her eyes looking back at the compound and ensuring you'd be able to see it from the large window in the common room, unaware of the redhead and archer sitting peacefully together, curious as to what you two were doing, a glint of realisation flickering across Natasha's face.

Unable to stop yourself, you give into the temptation of crouching down in the snow, grabbing a handful of it and moulding it into the shape of a large snowball, trying to perfect the shape to make it easier to throw.

"Hey Wanda?" You call out innocently, lining up your shot as you wait for her to turn around, her eyes glimmering with joy before widening, unable to move out of the way as the snow crashes against her body, exploding into various fragments of white dust, a gasp leaving her lips.

You can't help but laugh wholeheartedly at her reaction, an uncontrollable laughter escaping you as happiness consumes you entirely, shock present on her face to begin with before revenge takes over, taking advantage of your distracted state and grabbing a handful of snow, ready to throw it back at you.

Your laughter is interrupted when she headshots you with the snowball, disbelief evident on your face as her smile grows smug, a dangerous chuckle leaving you making her smile slowly fade, mischief evident on your face. At your expression, Wanda starts to run, laughter spilling from her lips as she gets a head start, your legs swiftly moving to catch up with her.

"Oh no you don't," you call out, your smile engraved on your face as you chase after, using your abilities to help you catch up to her. You can't stop the genuine laughter that escapes you as you dodge the snowballs her magic throws at you blindly, your body gradually catching up to her, inching closer as the two of you trample through the snow like idiots, not caring about anything else in the world but one another. Eventually, your arm wraps around her middle, pulling her closer to your body as you grab a load of snow with your other hand, intending on dropping it on her head, your plan not working as you both go tumbling in the snow, laughter still sounding around the two of you. "Gotcha," you chuckle out as you land on top of her, her hands holding onto your shoulders as your body is flush against hers, your hand cupping the back of her head protectively and the other bracing your body above hers.

Her breath gently fans across your face as you both pant a little from the sudden running, your eyes getting lost in hers as she smiles up at you angelically, your gaze eventually drifting across her features, still stunned by her beauty. Your gaze settles on her lips, watching how she subtly wets her lower lip before her teeth gently bite down on it, your eyes flickering up to her softening green, building up to ask her the question you've wanted to for ages.

"Can.... Can I kiss you?" your voice a barely audible whisper, the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage deafening in your ears as you await a response, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering vigorously.

"Took you long enough to ask," she murmurs playfully, having heard your thoughts about her eyes all those days ago, piecing together that you may have felt the same way about her as she did towards you.

Her fingers fisted against the hem of your coat and pulled you down into her body, claiming your lips in the way you both longed for. You kissed her tenderly, her lips pressing over yours just as affectionately, the cold tip of her nose brushing against yours as you got lost in the moment together. Your eyes fluttered shut to savour the feeling of her mouth, how gentle and soft it was as you weren't guaranteed another chance, another kiss, so you forced your racing thoughts to stop for a moment as your lips moved against hers lovingly, wanting to engrave the feeling into your mind forever. The kiss was shy and timid, your lips remaining together for mere seconds, but the intimacy of it made your head spin with the thought of her. The thought of her body pressed against yours, her mouth pressed against yours, forehead leaning against yours and arms pulling you impossibly closer, it was all too much. You were utterly mesmerised by her. Everything just felt so pure, sogenuine, so... intimate that it made you sigh gently into her mouth, pulling back with nothing but love evident in your eyes as she matched your tender gaze, just as obsessed with you as you were her.

"I told you this would be worth it," she whispers against you, her lips gently brushing yours, enticing you into gently claiming hers once more, smiling into her mouth.

"It really was," you murmur lovingly against her, her head hiding against your shoulder as she can't stop the wide smile appearing on her face, her nose scrunching up once more as you melt against her body, joy coursing through you at what just happened.

She kissed you.

You actually just kissed her.

A wave of giddiness overtook you as you grinned at her when she pulled back from your body, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes as her hands left your body, your mind paying no attention to it as she looked at you in that adoring manner, consuming your thoughts.

What you didn't expect was to feel snow hitting the back of your head, an adorable laugh leaving her at her playful actions, disbelief evident on your face. The feeling of betrayal immediately left you at the heavenly noise that spills delicately from her, your head shaking to remove the snow in your hair as she cups your cheek, guiding you back down for an apologetic kiss, the two of you unable to stop smiling.

Another individual who couldn't stop smiling was Natasha who watched the scene unfold through the window with Clint, glad that you finally acted on your crush and helped her win the bet with the archer. He grumbled as he reached for his wallet, searching for the desired note as a sigh of relief left the redhead when you started to walk hand in hand through the snow, finding somewhere else to finally build the snowman.

***

Humming to yourself, you found yourself in Wanda's room again, this time sprawled out of her bed, waiting for the witch to return with the snacks for the movie night she planned for you. It was going to be a Christmas marathon, starting with Home Alone one and two, then onto the Grinch so Wanda could tease you about your 'icon' and then finally Elf as she was sure you'd be asleep by then, having discovered how much you loved to lay in bed yesterday when you fell asleep during the first attempt at the marathon, much to her amusement. This time, however, she planned to keep you awake with food and potentially a cuddle as the two of you swiftly discovered how much you both craved physical touch, even if it was something small like holding hands, a smile growing on her lips as she enters the room, remembering the various instances of you subtly reaching for her hand and interlocking your fingers.

A soft chuckle leaves her lips at the way your head raises off the bed at the sound of the door shutting, your eyes growing curious when you see the bowl in her hands, instantly perking up and eager to know what she brought. When your eyes saw the popcorn in the bowl, your smile widened, moving around on her bed so that your back was against the pillow at the headboard, arm raising to welcome her body against your side, the other woman complying to your silent request.

The feeling of her body snuggling against yours caused a grin to break out on your face, your heart unable to comprehend the sheer joy you felt over the last few days, grateful for her making such an impact on your life.

"You're incredible," you murmur softly when she places the bowl into your lap, your lips pressing to her temple, the art of being affectionate with one another natural to you both.

"Are you only saying that because I brought food?" she teases, carefully picking up a piece of the sweet and salty treat and placing it into her mouth, her head tilting to rest against your shoulder as she uses her magic to bring the remote closer to you both, her hand effortlessly grabbing it and starting the first film of the night.

"No, I'm saying that because you are the most amazing and beautiful woman I know," you whisper against her hair, earning a blush at your charming words. "Who just happens to always bring me food," you add teasingly, earning a playful pinch to your side, a small yelp leaving you.

"Shhh, just watch the film Detka," she murmurs, your smile widening at the endearment, not commenting on it as she shuffles her body closer to you, her fingers playing with whatever part of your shirt she can reach as the two of you delve into the world of Christmas cinema, content with being one another.

As the film plays on, without even realising it, your hand rests on her thigh, tracing idle patterns against the thin fabric of her pyjama pants, Wanda's cheeks a similar colour to her festive clothing as her thoughts go down a sinful route. She can't help the warmth that pools between her thighs at your actions, your hand high up on her thigh as your toned body presses into her, her mind replaying the image of you working out earlier, the way your body effortlessly showed signs of strength and stamina, her eyes having a hard time from tearing away from your hands, watching as your veins showed slightly, further adding to the arousal that started to build within her as she got lost in thought.

Hesitantly, she tilted her head to rest at the crook of your neck, her lips softly pressing a kiss there as she knew you weren't paying attention to the film, your thoughts growing louder as you replay all your memories with the brunette, the overwhelming amount of happiness and love you felt allowing the witch to hear them. To try and gain your attention, she pressed another kiss to your neck, your breath hitching at the action as your hand freezes at her thigh, her lips burning against your skin as your body grows warmer at her suggestive move.

"Detka," she sighs out, her breath fanning across your skin as she pulls back from your neck, her green eyes meeting yours, desire but also nervousness shimmering them.

"Yes?" you whisper out, gaze subconsciously drifting to her lips, remembering how addictive they are, your own eyes darkening as your gaze lingers, unable to look at anything else.

"I don't think either of us are watching the film," her voice is barely audible as she murmurs the words, tilting her head slightly, the action causing her lips to inch closer to yours, the movement subtly seductive as you wait for her to make the move, sensing a bit of indecision from her.

"I don't think we are," your tone lowering a little, patiently waiting for her, not wanting her to do anything she'd regret.

"I wonder what else we could possibly do..." she trails off, smiling a little shyly, biting down on her lower lip and fuck, you don't think you've ever felt so hot before, the sight of her intoxicating, making it impossible to think straight.

"I have no idea," you whisper back with a small smirk, tilting your head down so that your lips were brushing over hers gently, not applying enough pressure to give her what she wanted, your eyes watching how hers flutter shut, awaiting your mouth. "What do you suggest?"

"I think... I think we should kiss," she rasps out, moving her body so that she was facing you properly, your brow raising a little at her words as your smile grows, fingers moving to brush back a few stray strands of her hair back, eventually letting your hand rest on her cheek, cupping her jaw and bringing her a little closer.

Your eyes flicker over all of her features, admiring them all while waiting for her to lower her face, the brunette only doing so marginally, mirroring your actions and wanting to memorise every inch of your beauty.

It feels like you're waiting an eternity until she lowers her face even more, her lips barely putting any pressure on yours as they briefly brush over them. Your eyes flutter close when you feel her hands cup your jaw, waiting for her to kiss you, to crash her lips to yours, to do anything at this point as you just wait, wait and wait.

When she feels like she's admired you enough and savoured the moment, she kisses you. She kisses you softly and tentatively to begin with as you explore each other's mouths, her actions soon growing a little more confident as the kiss grows hungrier, Wanda seemingly starved of you. It's intimate, it's desperate, it's passionate. It's everything you dreamed it to be.

You can't do anything but give into her relentless mouth, hand clutching at her sweater to ground yourself as all you can think of is her lips moving against yours, her body pressed up against yours, her soft fingers threading through your hair, just her.

A soft moan leaves her when you guide her to straddle your lap, heat immediately taking over her body, your touch burning into her skin as arousal pools between her legs at the feeling of your body pressed against hers, strong arms wrapping around her, a sensual sigh escaping you as when she pulls back from the kiss, eyes darkening with desire as you peer up into the green, a shameless smile on your lips.

"I think we should do that again," you tease, leaning in for another kiss as she smiles against you, her confidence growing with every kiss, every peck in between laboured breaths as her hands move to your shoulders momentarily, gliding them down your back in a seductive way, a groan leaving you at the way her fingers press into the toned muscle satisfyingly.

Experimentally, you slide your tongue into her mouth, a sinful moan escaping her as she welcomes your advances, your hands toying with the hem of her jumper, not sure how far she wanted to go as your mouths move lewdly together, her back arching a little to press her body further against yours.

"Am I going too fast?" Your voice a gentle whisper as you pull back from the kiss, sensing a little bit of nerves from her, eyes gauging her reaction as your fingers had slipped beneath her clothing, feeling the warmth and softness of her bare skin, her cheeks flushing a deep red as she meets your enamoured gaze, not wanting to pressure her.

"No I just-" she cuts herself off, feeling a little embarrassed as your hands slide out of her jumper, snaking around her waist and pulling her closer to rest against your body, bringing her in for a soft embrace that she appreciates. "I never done this before," she confesses, a soft smile appearing on your lips as you guide her head back so you can meet her timid green, "I want to but I just... don't know what I'm doing."

"Do you trust me?" you ask, mimicking her words from the ice skating, your fingers raising to brush back another stray strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear affectionately as she nods. "I'll take care of you, I promise," you whisper, kissing her lips with nothing but love, conveying how gentle you'd be with her. "We can stop at any time," you reassure her, not wanting her to think she's committed to having sex with you, "Just tell me to stop and we stop. I don't care what's happening, all I want is for you to feel safe and comfortable with me." She smiles shyly at your words, tilting her head to kiss you once again, grateful for how caring and considerate you were. "We'll go at your pace, ok?"

"Ok," she murmurs back, smiling into another tender kiss as you do as you said, letting her control the way her lips move against yours, slowly building the hunger back up.

"Tell me what you want," you sigh out against her lips, feeling her hips subtly rock against your lap without her even realising it, your teeth softly nipping at her lower lip, earning a small moan as she flutters her eyes back open, meeting your patient gaze.

"I want...I just want you," she whispers, holding the intimate gaze before leaning back in, kissing you with a new sense of urgency, a small moan leaving you at her words. Your lips pull into a small smile as she slides her tongue hesitantly into your mouth, the kiss turning messy and causing a wave of arousal to flood through, Wanda's mind spinning at the intoxicating way you make her feel.

"You have me," your tone laced with love as she rests her forehead against yours, lips lingering open against one another, simply relishing in the intimacy. "Show me what you want from me," you encourage, sliding your hands from around her lower back to hers, letting her take a hold of your hands to guide them where she wants them, your lips parting from hers to pepper kisses along her jaw softly, her head lolling to the side to welcome your addictive touch.

She simply holds your hands for a moment, deciding what she wants from you, her mind freezing momentarily at the way your teeth scrape against her sensitive skin, a pleasant shiver running down her back as she curses lowly in Sokovian, the sultry sound causing a throb between your thighs.

When she's ready, she squeezes your hands softly, guiding them down her body to the hem of her sweater, hoping you understand her silent request. Your fingers slide under tentatively, feeling the way her stomach tenses and relaxes at your touch, the skin impossibly soft and enticing, your mind reminding you to wait for her as you caress the skin you can reach.

"Please," she murmurs out, one of her hands moving to your hair, threading her fingers through your silky locks and softly pulling you away from her neck, her lips pressing to yours with a hint of desperation as she grinds her hips with a little more purpose now, a wave of pleasure coursing through her.

"Off?" you mutter against her lips questioningly, her nodding into a sensual kiss as your lips meet gently, her sighing into your mouth as your hands grip the hem of her sweater, slowly, teasingly, pulling it off her body.

Her hands move off you to help you pull the item of clothing off, your gaze remaining on her face as she turns shy again, waiting for another nod before letting your gaze drift down her body, your breath hitching at her sheer beauty.

Her body is sculpted to perfection, crafted by Aphrodite herself to create the most beautiful woman you'd ever lay your eyes on, her delicate and smooth skin enticing your eyes all over her exposed body, her curves luring your hands to caress them softly, eyes flickering back up to hers, nothing but admiration and love in them.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" you whisper into a passionate kiss, her nerves immediately dissipating at the sheer honesty lacing your tone, another blush creeping onto her face at how amazed you were by her. "Any idea what you do to me?" you continue, wrapping your arms around her body and pulling her closer to hers, her bra covered chest flush against your body as she moans into your mouth, her body begging for more, needing you to touch her lower.

"Please Y/n," she sighs into your mouth, your hands creeping up her body and resting just under her bra, fingers brushing over the skin, causing goosebumps to rise. "I need you," her tone conveying how desperate she was, your worshipping touch only driving her towards madness, her body viewing them as teasing.

"Where do you need me, love?" the endearment spilling from your lips naturally, a wave of arousal flowing through her at your slightly husky voice, your lips parting from hers once more to kiss down her neck, sucking partly before moving to kiss her shoulder and collarbones, waiting for an answer.

"Here," she sighs out softly, her fingers wrapping around one of your wrists and guiding it down to meet the waistband of her pyjama pants, your head instantly leaving her body to look at her properly, the green in her eyes usually filled with love completely replaced by desire and hunger.

"Are you sure?" Your voice is full of care as your hand remains where she guided you, gazing into hers as your heart beats wildly in your chest, still stunned a little by the sight of her on top of you, the heat between your thighs incessant.

"Yes," her voice a mere whisper as she kisses you softly, deciding she wouldn't want anyone else to be her first, always having loved you without even realising it.

"Remember we can stop whenever you need to," you murmur before claiming her lips with a newfound purpose, wanting to give her everything she wants, fingers carefully sliding under her waistband.

"Fuck," she whispers out, voice a little shaky as her hands move to your back once again, clutching onto your t-shirt as your fingers brush against her core through her soaked panties, a groan leaving you at how wet she was for you. She was this desperate for you.

You move the pad of your finger against the wet fabric, teasingly sliding it up and down her core, earning a small, desperate moan from her into your mouth, her teeth biting down on your lower lip impatiently as you continue to work her body up, her hips bucking against your hand at the slightest of touches.

"Can I-"

"Please," she practically whimpers out, your lips tugging up into a smirk whilst your free hand glides up and down her back soothingly, your fingers slowly sliding under the waistband of her panties, a sensual sigh escaping her when you finally make contact with her core. "Detka," she pants out against your lips as you swallow the desperate noises that leave her lips as your finger swipes through the abundance of arousal that's pooled between her thighs, coating your digit as you explore her wet sex.

Pulling back from the kiss, your eyes observe every single reaction to your touch she offered you, drinking it up like an intoxicating substance as your finger spreads her slick around her, moving to circle her clit gently to begin with, slowly building in confidence as your touch grows firmer, intending to bring her as much as possible.

"You're so pretty like this," you mumble, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, teeth scraping the soft skin again to drive her mad, your finger sliding up and down her soaking folds before settling on teasing her entrance, a whine leaving her at your enamoured tone and taunting actions.

"Detka," she sighs out, tone conveying the sheer desperation she feels for you, needing you to bring her towards her release, her body needing your touch to satisfy her.

"Shhh, I'll take care of you," you murmur, tilting your head away from her neck to let your lips brush against her compelling ones, her breath fanning across your face as her lips part, your finger slowly sliding into her, your eyes in awe of her blissed out expression. "Tell me what feels good," you encourage, slowly curling your finger inside her beautifully, a moan spilling from her lips directly into your mouth as you claim her lips softly, slowly letting your lips slot over hers, her mind hazy with all the pleasure and heat flowing through her.

"Shit, there, right there," she groans as you curl your finger against her weak spot, the palm of your hand brushing against her clit as she rocks her hips against you, fingers gripping your shirt tightly.

"Yeah?" you husk out and the slight cockiness to your tone has her mind spinning even more with arousal, delirium taking over her as she moans against you once more, your name falling from her lips like a small chant as you thrust your finger in her a little faster, pleasure bubbling through her. "What if I do this?" your voice a teasing whisper, your thumb moving to brush over her clit, a choked moan escaping her as you move it in languid circles, doubling the pleasure fogging her mind.

"Y/n," she pants against you, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smirk at her desperate tone, the way her walls clench and spasm around you, her thighs tensing around your body as her hips buck harder when you time your movements right, a sudden wave of pleasure flowing through her. "Fuck," she sighs out sensually, parting your mouths as she's struggling to reciprocate the kiss, too busy focussing on the way you effortlessly slide in another finger, stretching her out perfectly.

"You're doing so well for me," you whisper, mouth moving to the shell of her ear and tone dropping, a slight rasp added to your voice further arouse her. One of her hands shoot up into your hair, messily tangling it into your locks as moans escape her, her hips trying to move a little faster and push her towards her nearing release, fingers gripping tightly making a dull pain wash over you, the action making you groan as the idea of how lost in pleasure she must be goes straight between your thighs.

"Detka," she sighs out, desperation and a hint of embarrassment lacing her tone, too nervous to ask you for what she wants as her hips indicate how close she is, your fingers still steadily thrusting into her and thumb occasionally brushing her clit, hips bucking harder against you. You immediately understand what she's asking for as she gently tugs your head back, lips pressing against yours passionately as she holds you close, back arching further into your body as she sighs into your mouth, a small whine escaping her as she teeters on the edge of her release.

"I've got you," you murmur gently, your free hand moving up her body and to her face, cupping her cheek intimately and deepening the kiss, a moan leaving her at the sheer amount of love you pour into the embrace. "Let go for me," you mumble between kisses, her eyes squeezed shut as pleasure threatens to take over her.

"Y/n," she whispers out sinfully for a final time, body tensing against yours while your mouths refuse to part, muffling the desperate sounds leaving her lips while pleasure wracks through her body. Her legs tense around your body once more, her hands adamant on keeping you close as she keeps your head against hers, foreheads resting against one another as you slow the kisses down, pecking her lips in between laboured breaths. Your fingers slowed inside her, letting her walls clench and spasm around you as she rode out the last waves of her release, her body eventually relaxing in your lap and melting against your comforting body.

Your gentle breath caressed her lips as she eventually opened your eyes, timidly smiling at you and claiming your lips once more in an innocent manner, her adorable expression causing you to reciprocate the action as your free hand moves to glide up and down her back soothingly, fingers pulling out of her when she was ready.

"I'm so proud of you," you whisper with nothing but honesty and care in your words, her cheeks blushing at the way you tenderly gaze at her, her fingers moving to fix your ruffled hair. She smiles at you softly as she tucks a few strands behind your ear, your lips meeting her cheek lovingly as she just wants to bask in the intimate moment for a little longer, the two of you simply locked in a lovers embrace as your arm snakes around her middle.

Many soft words and gentle whispers later, you had managed to convince her into going to the bathroom to get cleaned up, not wanting her to be uncomfortable later and also wash your hands quickly, the brunette blushing at the cocky smirk on your lips as she watches you, proud of yourself for being able to make her feel good and most importantly loved and safe. You let her find herself a new pair of underwear and some new pyjama pants, opting for the pair she first came to you in before searching for a new shirt to wear.

Once she had opted for an old shirt with her favourite sitcom on it, you offered her your hoodie you took off earlier, the jumper being an oversized fit which you knew she loved, Wanda taking it with a wide smile, unable to stop the butterflies in her stomach at how caring you were. She let her nose rest against the collar of it, able to smell your perfume on it as you wrapped your arms around her waist from behind, dramatically falling onto the bed with her in your arms, eliciting an even bigger smile from her and a nose scrunch.

She turned around in your arms so she was facing you as you pulled her body impossibly closer, smiling fondly at the sight of her in your clothes, her leg sliding in between yours to find a more comfortable position to cuddle in as your fingers drew idle patterns against her back.

"Thank you for being so gentle," she whispers a little shyly, your gaze softening more somehow as she moves her fingers to play with the baby hairs at the back of your neck.

"I'll always be gentle with you," you murmur, kissing her temple and letting your lips linger for a minute, building the courage to say what you wanted to. "Thank you for the last week, I've really enjoyed spending time with you," you say, still trying to get to the three words you wanted to confess, her smile growing a little wider at your soft tone.

"Have I convinced you to love Christmas?" she asks curiously, the intimate gaze prolonged as you once again get lost in her eyes, smiling tenderly at her, thinking of how to phrase your words.

"I don't quite love Christmas yet," you whisper out, your words still giving her hope. "But, I...I know I love you," you confess, your heart beating wildly in your chest for the few seconds she doesn't reply, the way her nose scrunches once again in that adorable manner easing the worry of rejection.

"I love you too," she whispers back with fondness lacing her tone, her lips meeting yours once again for an intimate kiss as you can't help but grin into the kiss, a teasing comment finding its way to your lips.

"More than Christmas?" you whisper, earning a soft laugh from her as she moves her face to hide at the crook of your neck, your skin so warm and comfortable, lulling her into a relaxed state.

"More than Christmas," she chuckles out, wrapping her arms around your middle securely, your arms mirroring the action as your lips press a final kiss to the top of her head, the witch amazed at how you, a grinch, managed to steal her heart. 

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

[inuyashaluver]

Are we getting any Ona x reader Childhood sweetheart??

mi media naranja (my better half) - ona batlle

ona batlle x reader

description: in which you and your childhood friend watch each other grow up, going through different partners, life stages and miraculously ending up in a surprising result

warnings: it’s a long one - buckle up!! catalan in bold italics, mentions of cheating and tears

a/n: hiya, lovey! i hope you don’t mind that i tweaked this into a childhood friends to lovers situation, i really hope you enjoy❤️

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you and your best friend, ona, were the epitome of inseperable. your special bond was formed by years of shared laughter, inside jokes, secrets and late night conversations that stood the test of time.

you and ona knew each other better than anyone, the years of being best friends proving soulmates existed.

at first you both believed it was platonic soulmates but as the seasons and years went by, so did your dynamic, unbeknownst to either of you at the time.

it began through the subtle shift in stolen glances and unspoken words and conversations lingering in the air, something felt different for both of you.

little did you both know, the journey and progression from being best friends formed the very foundation of your relationship in the present.

—

[ 7 years old ]

it all started in school, a young ona experimentally kicking a football to a lonely you to test out the waters during lunch break.

in the beginning, you were incredibly shy, finding it hard to make friends at the time. her kindness made your heart warm and when you kicked the ball back, you both knew the other would be in your lives forever.

she came up to you and managed to get you to open up, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that you were quite chatty when you talked about something you were interested in. she loved it.

she’d listen to your words intently, each word engraving new lore about you in her mind, making an effort to remember as much about you as she could.

“one day, we’re gonna play together for spain and bring home a gold medal” ona promises, nudging your shoulder with hers as you both sat next to each other on the grass.

you laugh and nudge her back, nodding and holding your pinky up, she smiled cheekily and interlocked her own with yours, a promise you both intended to keep.

everyday at school, you and ona grew closer. your families were so happy with the fact that you’d made a friend so close, both of you at each other’s houses every other day. it just felt right for the both of you and everyone around you.

—

[ 12 years old ]

you and ona were joined at the hip, not even an exaggeration, you were never apart. you and ona had promised each other that wherever the other would go, you would follow in suit.

it was a non verbal promise but something that was just understood between the two of you.

you and ona had been scouted in your local club to join the youth barcelona team, both of you squealing and jumping around on her bed when you both discussed the situation. however, promptly scolded by ona’s mum that had you both in a fit of giggles.

because the two of you played together so often, each other’s playing styles were very much adapted into your own.

ona was a defender while you played in the midfield, the two of you always linking up to score a goal or an assist.

you both didn’t even need to look at each other to know where to pass or aim, the presence of one another being enough to score goals that had people impressed by your performances.

you and ona thrived in the barcelona team, labelled a dynamic duo by not only your coaches and teammates, but the spectators also.

—

wordless communication and care were the foundations of your friendship. the needs and requirements for the other person just feeling like common sense.

“you didn’t rub it in properly” ona laughs, pointing at the streaks on sunscreen left on the skin of your face.

“in case you didn’t notice, onita, i don’t exactly have a mirror” you grumble, attempting to rub the rest of the sunscreen but missing completely, making the brunette laugh even more.

“oh, preciosa (precious)” she teases, roughly rubbing the remnants into your skin causing you to groan and attempt to push her away.

“done” she cheeses out, giving your cheek a light pat before you shove her away jokingly. “you suck,” you stick your tongue out at her and she immediately returns the gesture, making you both give each other challenging glares before giggling with each other.

—

“my house or yours?” ona grins, passing you your water after training. “mhm, let’s go to yours” you smile back at her, she nods and you both chat as normal.

as soon as you got to ona’s, she gave you some of her clothes to change into and you immediately called your family to let them know you’re here and they already knew you’d ask to stay over so they agreed instantly.

you throw ona a thumbs up as she watches you converse on the phone and she pumps her fist in celebration, making you giggle before ending the call.

—

[ 17 years old ]

this was a difficult time for the both of you, it was when you both started exploring the dating world with other people.

ona got into a relationship first with this random girl, she was super nice at first, but when ona would spend time with you, she would get into insane arguments with her, her girlfriend claiming ona cared more about you than her.

and because it was her first girlfriend, she pulled back from you and you only really saw each other at training, and even then, the communication was limited.

you were heartbroken to say the least, losing your best friend over a girl, you decided to give ona a taste of her own medicine and began dating this girl you thought was really nice.

she treated you well, like a princess honestly, you were giddy and all round happier and ona, from a distance was happy for you.

she’d broken up with her girlfriend and she didn’t, well..couldn’t tell you since she rarely saw you. she regretted the whole relationship, it was toxic and manipulative and she wished she never ditched you for her.

but you were happy again and she would never jeopardise that for you. the only thing ona wanted for you was an endless amount of happiness, getting all the love that you deserved.

it was until you found out your girlfriend had cheated on you, coincidentally with ona’s ex that everything fell back into place.

with tears pooling in your eyes, you knocked on the door of the batlle residence with anxiety overtaking your entire body.

ona opened the door with a worried and confused expression, looking down at your kicked puppy expression that was ready to break down at any moment.

“nena? (babe)” she breathes out, a sob escapes from the back of your throat and you rush to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your face into her collarbone as your body wracked with a heart wrenching sob.

she immediately holds you around your waist, rubbing comforting circles over the shirt you were wearing, saying nothing but just holding you close.

she tries to pull away to look at you but you shake your head and hold her tighter, she frowns at the sounds of your crying, lifting you up by your thighs and hoisting you up on her waist.

she hurriedly closes the door and rushes to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you cried into her arms. she whispers sweet words in your ear as you pressed into her.

you hug for a couple of minutes until you pull away, wiping your tears away with the back of your hands as you looked down at her,

“i didn’t know where else to go” you sniff, your nose red and your voice slightly congested. she frowns at you, using the pad of her finger to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek.

“you came to the right place, this is your home too, i’ve missed you so much” she says softly, making a few more tears leave your eyes while she chokes back on her own. it felt like so much time but no time had passed as you explained the situation.

ona was pissed, making an effort the next day to give both of your now ex girlfriends a piece of her mind.

that’s when you both decided to take a break with dating, focusing on yourselves, football and each other. everything was back to normal and you were both incredibly relieved.

—

[ 18 - 21 years old ]

as the years went by, you and ona only grew closer, you noticed the shift in your dynamic. the lingering stares and touching blurring the line between platonic and romantic.

you tried to think nothing of it, ona was always incredibly affectionate and if anything she was just being friendly.

if only you knew how this girl really felt about you. in love was an understatement but she didn’t and couldn’t say anything, respecting you more than anyone in the world.

she wouldn’t want to risk losing you, her best friend, her soulmate.

it didn’t really help that you both followed each other to every club, barcelona, madrid, levante and even making the big jump to manchester united.

the best friend duo left an imprint on every club you both went to, proving to be unstoppable in every league.

you were both so in tune and synchronised, ona even managed to assist you in a hat trick at manchester united, claiming it to be one of her proudest moments.

she’d hoist you up on her waist in celebration as she kisses your cheek repeatedly as the girls surrounded you in celebration. “mi niña (my girl)” she grins up at you.

you kiss her forehead in appreciation and couldn’t help but grow a little warm at the pet name, as well as the way she was looking at you as if you were the reason the run had risen in the morning. (she truly believed this)

sure you both got asked over the years if the two of you were dating and it slightly hurt to shut it down.

you received numerous questioning expressions when you’d say, “no, we’re best friends” but the two of you chose to ignore. you both didn’t like each other like that. (silly)

—

[ 24 years old ]

it was until you both decided to return home that everything took a turn. your comeback to barcelona as the dynamic duo had been highly anticipated ever since the transfer rumours came out. and when the contracts were finalised and you and ona were promoted together, it went viral.

falling back into the team with new and old teammates was fluid, and exciting. you both felt good about the whole situation, excited for the new chapter ahead.

ona had partnered up with aitana for training because alexia had dragged you away as soon as she could.

“you like her” she teased, your eyes widen and you give her a little slap on the shoulder, “no, i don’t” you grit out, making your captain laugh brightly.

“please don’t tell me you’re this stupid, have you seen how that girl looks at you?” she scoffs, “heart eyes, makes me feel sick” she mocks, you can’t help the little smile hinting at your lips and alexia smiles satisfied.

she prys the details from you and you surprisingly complied. alexia helped you realised that you’ve liked ona for a while, just never coming to terms with it.

you felt lighter after all of it was off your shoulders, thanking alexia for slapping some sense into you.

she humbly accepted as long as she was the maid of honour at your wedding, making you swear on your life that it would happen.

—

ona had also been in her own conversation with aitana. being one of your teammates for years as well as a close friend, she knew ona liked you, she always has.

she would beg ona to confess, knowing that you liked her back because it was just obvious to anyone with a pulse. she’d always shut down the thoughts quickly. but this time, she actually listened to aitana.

“ona, that girl is in love with you and if she isn’t, you can slap me in the face” aitana speaks with her hands, making ona follow the movements as she spoke.

“you’d actually let me slap you in the face?” ona laughs, aitana gives her a stern expression and ona stops, glancing your way to see you laughing with alexia. she smiles at your bright smile, making aitana shake her head and whisking she had her phone to capture the moment.

—

it was a team bonding session at alexia’s house, a dinner, movie, drinks type of situation. ona and you lived together, like always, so ona drove you both over. alexia opened the door with a hopeful smile but faltered slightly at the two of you just being friends when you gave her that little look of disappointment.

she gives you a longer hug than ona and it makes her slightly suspicious, she knew you and alexia were like sisters but she couldn’t help the funny feeling bubbling in her stomach.

she’d glare slightly whenever you and alexia would interact and it made alexia laugh, knowing that tomorrow you’d come to training with a girlfriend.

when you got in the car and saw ona gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned pale, you glance at her in worry.

“are you okay?” you ask nervously, she looks over at you for a split second before looking back in front. “i’m fine” she says flatly, oh you were in for it.

the rest of the drive was intense and quiet. the tension was unbearable. when you both made it home, ona bolted to her room and slammed the door shut, making you wince. you gave her about an hour to cool off before you cautiously knocked on her door.

“ona?” you say softly, you open the door to see her on her bed just scrolling on her phone, she instinctively moves over so you lie down next to her, staring up at the ceiling as she refuses to look at you.

“have i done something wrong?” you break the silence, ona sighs heavily, “no” she breathes out, turning in her side to face you and prompting you to do the same.

“do you like alexia?” she asks softly, you gawk at her in shock, “what? no!” you exclaim, ona’s cheeks burn a little, looking down to see your hand resting on the bed close to hers.

“why? are you worried?” you tease, ona bores her eyes into yours, “and if i was?” she says full of confidence, your mouth falls open slightly, just blinking as you looked at her in surprise.

both of you are pink cheeked with wide pupils, resembling a full moon. “what do you mean?” you utter, “nenita (babe) you know what i mean” ona says hopefully, you pause for a moment before nodding, your bodies subconsciously moving closer to one another like a magnetic field.

“te amo (i love you)” you say confidently, making the girl in front of you break out into a bright smile, “te amo (i love you)” she parrots, you break out into your own wide smile.

you look at each other lovingly for a moment before ona brings a hand up to cup your face, she glances down at your lips and you inhale eagerly, making her chuckle before she pulled you into a searing kiss.

time seemed to pause at this moment, just the warmth of your breaths and lips mingling unfolding like a gentle melody.

your lips moved tenderly with each other, unlocking the years of whispered promises of love you both never knew you were hoping for. your tongues explored each others mouths and it all felt two familiar, you were soulmates after all.

in that shared moment, the line between friendship and romance faded completely, leaving behind the gentle lull of your now joined heartbeats, the start of forever for the both of you.

—

when you both walked into training the next day with ona’s hand in the small of your back and a gentle kiss to your temple, the room erupted into cheers.

alexia and aitana exchange a high five, a couple of the girls exchanging money making you both laugh brightly at some of the disappointed but happy expressions in the room.

—

when you both went to the world cup and managed to win through a goal from you, ona proclaimed your love then and there, unable to hold it in anymore.

when she pulled you into a loving kiss after that final whistle blew, it was a special moment for tje both of you. especially since you were both fulfilling that promise of bringing home that gold medal.

you and ona’s friendship stood as a witness to the growth and transformation for the both of you. standing as a testament of love that began with the simplicity of a girl kicking a football to you because she thought you looked lonely, forming into a profound and everlasting connection.

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you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

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ona.batlle: mi media naranja (my better half)

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yourname: mi onita xx

yourname: mi media naranja (my better half)

↳ ona.batlle: pretty baby

alexiaputellas: you two would be NOTHING without me

↳ aitanabonmati: and me!!

↳ ona.batlle: all you two did was make fun of us

↳ alexiaputellas: worked though, didn’t it?

↳ ona.batlle: …….

↳ yourname: she said thank you!

context!! - mi media naranja: the literal translation is 'to find your half orange. ' when an orange is cut in half, the two halves match each other perfectly, but no other orange half is likely to fit so closely’ essentially meaning - your better half, your soulmate

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 24: What The Past Held

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty four of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.3K

Warnings:  Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems, Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Drinking. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Steam from the two coffee mugs sitting on the kitchen table between Rosemary and you tangle and twist in the air like two dragons locking claws in the morning sun.

Sitting there, staring at your daughter felt odd.

You trace her face with your eyes noting the cinnamon colored freckles, the greenish-hazel eyes, the soft curve of her jaw, the almost unnoticeable traces of wave in her dark hair, and stop on her nose. It's the same face that'd you'd looked into the past forty years and yet you don't recognize her.

A memory of holding her when you first gave birth flashes through your mind. You remember the promises you whispered to her when you held her in your arms for the first time, looking down into her little face, with her small hand clutching the tip of your finger while she slept. One was the same promise that Ben made to you the night you chose him, the words all too familiar as you spoke them to the small infant in your arms. Promising to protect her, be strong for her, but now you felt like you failed, because you hadn't been able to keep her safe from Vought.

After all these years, it was just a lie.

Ben was sitting to your right, his hand holding on to yours resting gently on top of your thigh. He wasn’t drinking coffee. Ice floated quietly in the glass of scotch on the table in front of him, the condensation dripping down the outside of the cup to form a ring beneath, but he hadn’t touched it since the three of you had sat down a few moments ago. The morning sun was seeping through, casting an amber glow upon the worn wooden grains of the kitchen table, but you feel no warmth from it's rays.

Rosemary had fought to talk to you alone, told Ben to leave, but you refused to speak to her without him there. You didn’t give a fuck anymore about that, didn’t care if she hated Ben or didn’t want to be around him anymore. You wanted him around and he was going to be here whether she liked it or not, she might as well get used to it.

Lou was in the living room playing Go Fish with Hughie. You could hear her giggles, the almost silent shuffle of cards in her small hands, and the slap of cards against the all glass coffee table two rooms away. When Ben and you had come up from the basement this morning she had practically tackled you she was so happy. You were thankful that Ben had kept her away when you began to spiral. You didn't want her to see you like that. It hadn't been that bad since Ben died, when the pit opened beneath your feet and you all too willingly fell into the darkness.

Funny how the person who sent you into the darkness all those years ago would be the one to light the beacon that brought you back home. It made you more thankful that Ben was here for you.

You knew that it probably hadn’t been easy for him to see you like that and probably went against his internal struggle to push people away for him to care for you like he did. But for you it solidified that Ben loved you and cared for you as much as he said he did when he came back to you.

It meant more to you that he would ever know, just knowing that he would take care of you, would be strong for you the way he promised all those years ago. You had seen bits and pieces of that side of him over the years, but the other day was different. It snagged hard on something deep in your ribcage and refused to budge, understanding that Ben was here to stay, and you'd never be without him again was more wonderful than you could have imagined.

It made you feel once again like the little girl who clung to him when Ben crawled into her bedroom window and begged her not to marry Howard, reminded you once again that you were still important to Ben, and that all the time you spent over the years together was not a waste.

You didn't regret a single second, even if it had ended up the same way that it had, even if everything with Countess still happened, you didn't regret your life.

Butcher and Legend were in his office talking in hushed whispers as if they could hide it from you. You didn’t like it, didn't like the idea that they were scheming something and trying to hide it behind locked doors. The truth was, you weren't focused on them. The only thing you were focused on was the looming conversation between you and Rosemary that seemed to grow more and more until it was the size of the empire state building. The same conversation that you were about to have.

Her legs are crossed beneath the table, frown pulling at her bow-like lips, as she looks from Ben to you trying to think of a way to start the conversation. You'd already told Ben what Stan Edgar told you, but you still wanted him here for this. He had been curious as to why you wouldn't speak to her when you started your descent into the darkness, and you weren't going to lie to him about that.

"Why did you do it?" The words come out calm, you're anything but. You can't fight the war of disappointment and silent rage swirling beneath your skin. You hated that she did this, that she gave a piece of herself to Vought and didn't think to tell you.

You had found out that your daughter had been lying to you for ten years on the same day you found out that Dr. Vogelbaum had stolen your genetic material. You knew that you weren't going to be the same ever again.

Rosemary sits for another moment, eyes flicking to Ben. It's another silent jab at the fact that she doesn't want him here, but you squeeze his hand tighter to tell him you do.

"He approached me." She says finally.

"Who?"

"Stan Edgar."

"When?"

"Five years ago." Her arms tighten where they are crossed over her chest.

"Five years?" You hesitate confused.

Stan told me that he knew that Rosemary was Ben's daughter the moment he saw her ten years ago, but why five years?

"Yes." She nods once as if she's confirming it to herself.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"You were so happy, you were doing better than you ever had and I-" Rosemary sighs heavily. "I didn't want to ruin that."

"I don't give a fuck if I was happy! Stan Edgar coming to you and asking you for-" You begin to snap, losing your temper, but Ben squeezes your hand to remind you to calm down.

"He wasn't asking." Rosemary's eyes darken, and you see a sliver of the mask slip for just a moment and you see her rage.

"What do you mean?"

"It was Charlie." She all but spits out the name.

At the mention of Rosemary's husband's name you pause. It was the first time you'd ever heard her say his name like that. You'd believed that she and Charlie had a perfect marriage, and to learn that it was his fault that everything with Vought starting was jarring. You didn't understand why he would matter in any of this. He wasn't a supe and he had died weeks after Lou was born.

Ben looks from Rosemary to you in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. He knew the story of Rosemary's husband, but didn't know his name.

"What does your husband have to do with any of this?" You say it mostly to clarify for Ben.

Rosemary reaches across the table and takes Ben's glass of scotch, knocking it back in one gulp, but the darkness does not fade from her eyes. "Do you remember the day I met him?"

You did. It was autumn, a few weeks after Rosemary and you moved back to the city for the first time, ten years ago. The leaves were changing into marvelous flashes of red, orange, and yellow, and there was just a hint of winter in the wind. Rosemary and you had moved into the apartment you were still living in, and Rosemary had just gotten her job at the hospital.

She loved it. All the long hours, the helping people, and the dealing with crazy patients.  But the day she met Charlie was different. It was her day off and she was sunning herself on a park bench while drinking an iced coffee and reading one of those paperbacks she loved so much when a handsome stranger had stopped and started talking about the book with her, telling her how much he loved it and suggesting another few books she should read.

Rosemary had floated into the apartment. It was the first time in years that you had seen her so genuinely happy that it made you happy. She'd had a few relationships in the past, but none that made her sparkle like those ten minutes she spent with a stranger on a park bench.

She didn't see him again until a week later, reading one of the books he had suggested while sitting on the same bench and this time he sat with her. Rosemary asked him if he wanted to go get coffee. Their coffee date had turned into a mid-day movie, that turned into dinner and then she finally stumbled into the apartment at 2 am after she and Charlie had closed the restaurant, disrupting a late night painting session that you were doing because sleep never seemed to come. You could see how smitten she was. It brought you comfort to know that she had found someone that made her feel the same way that Ben made you feel the night he made love to you.

Apart of you had been afraid, because Rosemary was a supe and Charlie wasn't. She wouldn't die, wouldn't grow old, but he would. You didn't want to see your daughter go through something like that, to live in a world where she lost someone that meant everything to her.

It was a feeling that you knew all too well.

"I was so stupid." She mutters, before she waves her hand and the whiskey bottle hidden under the sink comes shooting out like a bat out of hell. She pours herself another glass of whiskey in the cup she'd emptied moments ago.

"What are you talking about?" You ask her, still mildly confused.

"Charlie." Rosemary all but spits his name. "I was so stupid. I should have asked more questions, should have waited, but I-" Her voice sticks.

"What about Charlie?"

"He was working for Vought." She takes a long drag from the glass she just poured while your entire world goes upside down all over again.

"What? How? Why?" If you'd been drinking anything, you would have done a spit take.

"I should have questioned it. The moment we move back into the city I meet the perfect man?" She snarls, lips pulling back to bear perfectly straight teeth. "In the five years we were married, Charlie was obsessed with having a child. Said that he wanted to start a family early, said that he wanted to be a father. I kept telling him that I wasn’t ready, but finally I gave in.”

No. That can't be true, Charlie was-

Rosemary hadn't told him who you really were until after they got married, didn't tell her the truth about who she was. You remember how much she agonized over it, how afraid she was to tell him that she was a supe and that she was the daughter of a famous hero. She hadn't told him the true nature of your powers, just told her who you really were. But then it hits you like a bolt of lightning and you remember, Charlie had taken it calmly, only been thrown for a few days, but snapped back as if nothing happened. If anything he acted like he loved her even more that she trusted him with something so important. You remembered being surprised about him being okay with it after so little time.

That son of a bitch.

"When Stan first approached me five years later I was pregnant with Lou." Rosemary continues. "It was too late. Charlie had gotten what he wanted. They knew I would be easier to manipulate if I was pregnant, that I wouldn’t be willing to harm the baby by hurting them. Stan said that they just wanted my blood and he’d leave us alone, all of us. I didn't know about Charlie then. He'd convinced me to do it, said that it would only upset you, said that it was the only way to keep you happy.” She drinks from the glass, frowning as the ice clink against the glass. "He knew how much that I cared about you. How much I wanted to give you a rest after everything that you'd been through. So I did it."

Rosemary's eyes flick to Ben for a moment as she says that last part, a silent jab at him that you catch.

"I told Charlie everything about the two of you, about me-" She says it quietly, pouring the amber liquid into the empty glass. It splashes against the sides as she brings it back up to her mouth. "I thought he loved me, but it was all just a big fucking lie.”

Ben reaches across the table, taking the bottle from where it sits, and takes a sip from it. You could tell that he was getting as mad as Rosemary was. He might not have known Charlie or been in Rosemary’s life, but you knew deep down Ben still felt the need to take care of her. Before he puts it down you gesture with your free hand and he hands it to you, because you needed it to process this and coffee wasn't going to do it. When you drink you don't taste it at all, all you can think about is Charlie.

He had always seemed nice, accepting, laughed easily, and you liked how Rosemary was around him, lighter somehow. If this was true, it meant that he had gotten past you, gotten past the background checks that you ran, gotten past you following him trying to figure out what kind of man he was, and it meant that you had failed to protect Rosemary.

“I found out a few weeks after Lou was born about Charlie. At first I thought he was having an affair, the long hours at the office, the weird phone calls in the middle of the night- but no. It was Stan. Charlie was watching me, updating Stan on the baby. One night I woke up and he wasn't in bed, and I found him standing over Lou's crib holding a vial of her blood." Her teeth clench together. "And that's when he told me."

"Told you what?"

"Lou is a supe."

The words ring around in your head, bringing a wave of anxiety, horror, and fear. It started deep down, bubbling up from below like a witches cauldron until it rises and splashes over the brim.

"What?" You sputter.

"Charlie was a supe and it was his power. He could sense the powers of other supes, knew how powerful they would be before their gifts developed. And he said that Lou would be more powerful than any of us."

"Did he say what it would be?" Ben asks.

"No." Rosemary shakes her head. "Just that when it manifested she would be extraordinary. More powerful than any supe that had ever walked the earth. Even Homelander. And that’s why Vogelbaum and Stan Edgar wanted her.”

You take another sip from the bottle trying to digest her words. Your greatest fear was coming true, any aspect of Lou ever having a normal life was evaporating before your very eyes. That meant you couldn't send her to school, couldn't trust anyone to watch her, not without believing that they were working for Vought and had ulterior motives for watching her. Now it was terrifying to think that the babysitters you had for Lou in the past had done things to her without you knowing.

The thought that someone had done something to Lou without you knowing made you livid.

"He said that Vogelbaum was willing to pay, to give us enough money to start over, to have another child, all we had to do was give Lou to him and we could really be happy. Charlie said that you were too controlling, that this was the only way we could break free from you." Rosemary seethes. "Charlie didn't care about Lou, all he wanted was the money. I’m sure that if I hadn’t woken up he would have taken her and run. Sold his own child. But when I caught him, he thought that if he turned me against you that he could manipulate me into doing whatever he said. Just like he had manipulated me all those years by telling me he loved me."

You watch her haunted expression flip into something darker, something triumphant. You'd seen it before on Soldier Boy's face when he put someone in their place, when Ben was riding high from a good interview or a sparring session when he beat someone into submission. A small tickle of fear began to creep down your spine, cold, like a droplet of rain that raced down your back from under your collar in a thunderstorm.

"I smiled at him, told him everything he wanted to hear as I brought him close, and then I ripped his head off." She leans back in her chair with a shrug, the ice cubes clinking against the glass sides of the cup in her hand. "For such a little bitch he sure did make a mess, but the real mess was trying to cover it up."

You remember the night she showed up on your doorstep toting a sobbing Lou in her arms, the night that Charlie died, when she told you the police called and said that he drowned in his car when it went over a bridge. You remember the look in her eyes days later, hollow, like she was haunted by something otherworldly. And you realize that the haunted look wasn't that Charlie had died, that it was she had killed him after she found out that Charlie was prepared to hand over his own child for a small fortune.

In hindsight that also would have made you kill Charlie. Finding out that he used your daughter to make a child for Vought was about as bad as learning that they stole your genetic material to make Homelander. It was the same idea as the perversion of your body, except this time Vought had hired someone to purposely pretend to love her all because they wanted another supe from your bloodline.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that Rosemary had to endure that and she never said anything to you.

"But the car-" You say to steady the torrent of anger and nausea beginning to build up in your chest.

"Necessary casualty. Put the body in his car, drove it over a bridge, put him in the front seat, did some artful contortions with the hood of the car to make it look like his head was cut off then and there." She sighs.

"You drove it over a bridge, how did you survive that?" Ben asks her, his hand still clasped in your own. You could feel some heat beginning to build under his skin and you hoped that he wasn't about to go nuclear.

"I didn't, but y/n had come over earlier that day to see how I was doing and I touched her so I didn't have to worry about dying."

The silence that follows her confession is deafening. You don't know what to say, don't know what to do, so you just sit there staring at the woman you thought you knew, trying to find some familiarity, but you can't.

“And you didn’t think to tell me any of this?" You say, a little bit heartbroken that she kept something like this from you for all these years.

“It was my business.” She downs the rest of the amber liquid in her glass.

“What the fuck do you mean it was your business?! It’s our family-“

“It was my daughter!” She snaps. “My husband!”

You stare at her, eyes wide, mouth open in shock. You’d never seen this side of Rosemary before, and it scared you.

She exhales a breath. “It was my mess. And I needed to clean it up. Charlie was my mistake.” Her expression shifts to something else, something small and broken.

“He tricked both of us.” You whisper. “It’s not your fault. What Vought did- what Charlie did to you it-"

“It was.” You could hear the emotion building in her voice. “I was the one who was stupid. I was the one who let him in, told him everything about us. I needed to fix it.”

You sit there for a moment because you’re not sure what to say. Learning that Charlie was practically a sleeper cell in your lives was more than just surprising. It was heartbreaking. Because it meant that Vought had won, that they had infiltrated your lives after all these years, that they were still watching, still controlling things behind the scenes.

"Mom." She says tentatively. "I didn't enjoy killing him. I'm not a monster. I-" You can see your daughter again. "I did it because he was going to take Lou, that he had been lying to both of us all those years. And I didn't want Vought to take her away. I didn’t want to lose her.”

"I know. I just-" You take in a deep breath to cleanse whatever sins you think are still hanging in the air. “It’s a lot to take in.” You understood why she did it, understood that you would have done the same thing.

Hell, I have done the same thing. You think to yourself remembering what happened with Stan a few days ago.

"I wish you had told me sooner. I wish you hadn't kept this from me all these years." You sigh.

"I know. I know I should have, but I couldn't. You were really painting again, selling your art, and you were so happy and carefree not worrying about anything and I didn't want to change that. I'm sorry-"

"I know you're sorry, but I don't care if I was happy or you thought I was happy. I would rather know the truth and know what was going on than live completely in the dark. What Charlie did to you-"

"I know." She looks down at her lap in shame and you see the Rosemary you know come back into focus. "I wanted to protect you." Rosemary raises her head to meet your gaze again. "You always do that for me and I-" Tears begin to form. "I just wanted to do that for you."

"Oh honey." You reach across the kitchen table and squeeze her hand, fighting tears of your own. "I'm sorry you felt that way. You're my daughter, I'm supposed to protect you-"

And you hadn't. You'd allowed Vought to do something to her, to mess with her life, to take something so precious and pervert it, and attempt to take a piece of her the way they stole a piece of you.

"But what about you?" The tears began to roll down her cheeks. "All you do is care about me and Lou, it's always been about us, but who's going to take care of you?"

"I am." Ben says it before you can answer, coupling it with a squeeze to your hand that still rests on top of your thigh. Your heart feels like it's going to melt, seep through flesh and bone until you're nothing more than just a puddle of what you used to be.

It was so honest, so completely unlike the man who used to be Soldier Boy that you finally felt the memories of who that man was beginning to fade and leaving you behind with the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. The boy who you'd seen every day since Ben came back.

Rosemary glances at Ben, her expression hardening.

"Look, I know you think that I'm going to leave, that I'm going to fuck up and hurt her again." Ben says, his voice strong. "But I'm not. I don't know how long it's going to take you to trust me, but I love your mother, and I regret the things I did to her every day." For a moment you think you hear something on the edge of his voice, it thickens with emotion for just a second, and you're sure that Rosemary didn't notice because she didn't know Ben as well as you did and she didn't know how hard it was for him to admit something like that. "I promise that I'm going to protect her and take care of her for the rest of my life, because nothing else matters to me the way she does."

The urge to cry lodges itself in the back of your throat as you release Ben's hand and raise it to his face, gently tracing his bearded cheeks with your fingertips. You didn't think that it was possible to love someone this much, to care about someone and wish to have someone this much. You remember all the years before this when you were children, when you wished for it to be this way, but you never imagined that it would be anything like this. To be wholly entangled with someone who completely understood, saw your flaws, saw you at your worst, and still wished to love you.

But you were and you never wanted it to stop.

"I love you too Ben." You whisper, and Ben raises his hand to hold your wrist, keeping your hand pressed against his face. Your other hand was still holding on to Rosemary's, and you knew she was watching the two of you, but you didn't care. You refused to ever let Ben feel like you didn't or feel like no one did. It had been your job for so many years, protecting him, taking care of him the way he always took care of you and it was the job you'd never quit.

Rosemary sighs and wipes her face with the back of her free hand. "Well, if you're going to be around more you might as well know, he was right about Lou."

"You've seen her powers?" Your eyes widen as you turn to look at her, dropping your hand from Ben's face to take his again so it's resting on your thigh once more.

"No, but when I killed Charlie I understood." She presses her lips into a thin line releasing your hand. "Before when I touched him I didn't know how to unlock it, how to use the power so I never noticed how it worked, but when I killed him I realized something about me."

"What do you mean you realized something about you?" Ben asks.

"When I touch someone I get their powers for 24 hours, but when I kill them-" She inhales. "I keep their powers." 

"You WHAT?" Your hand tightens so much in Ben's that you hear an audible crack.

Ben clears his throat. "Softer Sweetheart." He murmurs and you loosen your grip enough for Ben to flex his hand.

If you weren't so shocked at the news you would have teased Ben about it, but now definitely wasn't the time. 

"Why didn't you know that?" You stutter.

"I'd never killed anyone before so I couldn't exactly test the theory out!" She shouts back. "But it's true. My powers are almost the complete opposite of yours."

"Holy fucking shit-" You mutter to yourself closing your eyes for a minute. You'd known that Rosemary was powerful, but this was almost overwhelming.

She could have any power, relatively limitless power and all she has to do is kill another supe.

But so could you. A little voice whispers in the back of your head. The memory of the day that Rosemary stabbed you with a knife by accident and killed you comes rising from the darkness in the back of your mind. She killed me… which means if I kill a supe I get their powers too. This day keeps getting better and better.

"So when you look at Lou what exactly do you see?" Ben asks her with a frown.

"If I concentrate, it's almost like she glows."

"She glows?" Ben clears his throat not quite understanding.

"Yes. For other supes it's not obvious, it's more of a shimmer. For Ben or you or me it's a lot stronger, but when I look at her and concentrate, it's like looking at the sun. Like there's liquid fire that rolls through her veins."

"But she hasn't shown any powers at all?" You say looking at Rosemary, trying to see if she would lie to you about this.

"No. None. It's not through touch, because she's touched me, you, and Ben and she hasn't shown any powers. And if she inherited anything else from either of us I don't know how to test it out. You have to die to get powers and I have to kill someone and I don't want either of those things to happen to my child so-"

"That's probably for the best."

"Yeah."

"This is bad." You murmur sitting back in your chair. "And I thought that it really couldn't get any worse, but here we go."

"What do you mean?" Rosemary squints in confusion.

"They used your blood to make Temp V. That shit that Hughie and Butcher have been shooting up for the past few days, but now I'm worried that they did more with it than Stan told me."

"It's blood. What else would they do?"

"I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I mean I don't think it's enough genetic material to make a child or anything like that but-"

"A what?!" Rosemary chokes on a sip of her coffee. "Why would they do that?"

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. You wanted to tell her about Homelander, tell her everything that Stan said. You could feel it on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't say it.

"Homelander." Ben says slowly, understanding exactly what was happening to you. His thumb strokes against the smooth skin on the back of your hand.

"What about him?" Rosemary looks from Ben to you still confused.

"They took genetic material from me and y/n. And they made Homelander."

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?" Rosemary shouts, and this time her coffee cup busts in her hand sending coffee raining down over the table. "You mean they-" Her eyes flick to you with rage, horror, and shock swirling behind her eyes.

"Ben donated his." You clear your throat. "But Vogelbaum didn't wait for me to accept the offer."

Rosemary rises from the table so fast in your head you think she developed the ability to fly. And before you can ask her what she's doing she grabs you and holds you so tight that you'd be worried she'd snap your spine if she could. "Mom I'm so sorry. That's inhuman." She pulls back to look at you. "They shouldn't have done that to you. Treated you like that."

The urge to cry was back, this time coupled with the fleeting memory of what Vogelbaum did flashing through your mind like strobe lights. It had haunted you last night in your dreams, but when you woke up in Ben's arms it had vanished away.

"No they shouldn't have." Ben growls.

"You didn't stop them?" She looks at him, still hugging you, but you can feel her anger. "You let them do that to her?"

"I didn't fucking know they did that shit!" Ben snarls the words, the room heating slightly as he begins to get angry at Rosemary's accusation.

"They did it when Ben wasn't there. He was shooting a film overseas. Stan said that I wasn't supposed to remember and that they were too afraid of what Ben would do to them if they tried to do it with him in town."

Rosemary relaxes. "The nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"I should have killed them all when they started coming for Lou. Shouldn’t have stopped with just Charlie.” She spits.

"I would have gone with you to do it if I knew." You half-smile even though it doesn't really seem to be the type of thing to smile about.

"I would have too, if I was here." You hear Ben mutter under his breath.

"But it’s the same way they treated you with Charlie. Vought used you-" You begin to say to Rosemary.

"I agreed to it-" She interrupts.

"No." Your arms tighten around your daughter. "No you didn't. You didn't agree to marry a psychopath who forced you to have a child with him."

"But-"

"No." You can hear your voice hardening with emotion. You were trying to contain the anger and fury that was almost radiating out from your body. "What Vought did to you was just as bad as what they did to me. They used you, Charlie used you. That is not your fault."

"I should have known better. I should have asked more questions, shouldn't have let him in so easily, but I-" Her shoulders slump a little.

"Sweetie." You stroke her cheek lovingly, looking into her green eyes. They were dim, rimmed with red, and wet. It broke your heart to see her this way, to see her look so small, when the Rosemary you knew inhabited such a large persona. It made you want to resurrect Charlie from the great beyond and then send him there all over again. "This is not your fault. Sometimes you can't help who you fall in love with and you fell in love with the lie of who Charlie was, the man that he pretended to be. It's easy to fall, but when love becomes a burden it's hard to carry." You could feel a lump of emotion forming in the back of your throat.

With Ben it had felt that way sometimes, well, at least when you were younger it felt that way. When you watched him with so many women over the years and it felt like you were dragging your heart behind you as you witnessed it. When it ached each night Ben would crawl into bed with you and act like the boy you used to know, when you weren't sure he still existed. Now it didn't feel that way, because you knew and understood that Ben loved you wholly and completely, just the way that you had loved him for so long.

"And it shouldn't ever be a burden or something you should be ashamed of."  You continue, pulling her in tight for a hug, one of your hands fitting on the back of her head while she leans into your shoulder. You could feel the wet trail of her tears through your shirt. "Falling in love is never a shameful thing, the only shameful thing is those who try to take it selfishly from you without giving anything in return. Love isn't prideful or selfish. And the pieces of yourself you give to someone else when you love them should be shared and should be molded with their own to become something wonderful and beautiful. This isn't your fault and I don't want you to carry this with you. Okay?"

"Thank you mom." She whispers and you hold her all the more tighter against you, trying not to cry yourself. You hated what Vought had done to her, that they had taken something that should be sweet and turned it sour, something warm and turned it frigid, and something caring into something selfish.

Ben made eye contact with you over Rosemary's shoulder and you could see an emotion reflected there that you'd seen the night he came to your apartment with Butcher and Hughie.

Guilt was bubbling up all over again, the guilt that you hadn't seen this coming or tried harder to ensure that Charlie didn't insert himself into Rosemary's life and the guilt that you had allowed him to break her. It was the first time that you had ever seen her look so broken and it reminded you of the way Ben looked when he finally confessed his love for you days ago.

"So what do we do now?" Rosemary asks. She pulls back from you, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve.

"I have no idea." You sigh, brushing away the last of her tears with your thumb. "Homelander's a monster. Butcher wants him dead and maybe… Maybe that's on us to carry it out."

“Or maybe-“ Rosemary stops for a moment. “Maybe we should run.”

“Run?” Ben scoffs.

“Yeah. Just get out of here before it’s too late. Change our names. Go somewhere Vought can’t find us.” She continues. “I can work anywhere mom, so can you. And I guess Ben can figure out what he’ll do for a job.” Rosemary shrugs glancing at him where he still sits at the table with the almost empty bottle in front of him. “We could keep an eye on Lou, not worry about someone coming to take her away.”

You consider what she says for a moment and then you remember what Stan told you, remember the rage, remember the horror, and remember what it was like to make him pay.  The truth was you knew that there wasn’t any running or any way to hide. You knew that as long as Vought was still Vought, they would come for Lou or Rosemary or even Ben. You didn’t want to live that way, with one eye over your shoulder always prepared to hide.

You’d hidden long enough.

“If that’s what you want to do sweetheart we can.” Ben touches your arm and you know he’s addressing you.

“No.” You set your jaw and make eye contact with Ben. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting to hear what you’re going to say. “I’m tired of running. And it’s time that Vought pays for what they’ve done."

A/N: A lot of secrets revealed in this chapter, but I promise I think I have finally figured out exactly where I want this to go. Which is great... but now the hard part is finding the motivation to write. 😭

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[bimrwolf]

Healing Hands by the Fire

geralt of rivia x afab!reader words: 3,684 warnings: smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; squint and you may see a casual plot summary: Geralt visits Reader, a healer, with severe injuries. a/n: very out of my comfort zone. however, i promised my friend to write this as her christmas present because writing fanfics are my love language. good thing i know basic things about the witcher heheehe.

How did she always end up here? Months without a word or seeing him. She had accepted the peace. Only occasionally did she perk up when there was a knock on her door, secretly hoping it was him. But only one could be so lucky. Instead, it was travelers from all over the Continent who heard word of her abilities.

She couldn’t complain. Healing others in exchange for seeds, food, and sometimes money. Not that it was required for her service but she couldn’t complain about the gratuity.

In fact, she enjoyed helping others. However, it was nearing winter and there were less travelers. They were most likely home to prepare for the violent winter storms that damned the Continent. 

It was one of the first snow falls of the season. She had finished feeding the chickens and her horse Atticus. That was always her nighttime routine. Feed the animals, make some tea, study until all the tea is drunk, and finally get ready for bed. 

Some might think the routine would get tiring, but there was never any guarantee. It was the one consistent thing in her life at the moment. She was content. 

However, some nights, she heard the enchanted chimes outside that let her know someone was approaching. But before she made it to the door, it swung open, snow flurries drifted inside. The cold was sharp and pricked her nose, making her sniffle. 

In most cases she would be alarmed. There was no telling what creatures or people were harmless and which ones weren’t. She clutched the nearest thing to her— a broom that always gave her splinters when she used it. 

His snow white hair peeked from under his hood and she recognized the distinct low grumble that could be mistaken as a quake. He slowly closed the door, ensuring it was locked this time. “You startled me.” She said, releasing her grip from the broom, checking her hand for any loose wood. 

“You should keep the door locked. What if I was a dangerous man breaking in?” She played it off as a joke, not seeing the concerned look on his face. 

“Some might say you are dangerous.” She smirked. She never expected him to react to her jokes, but she could feel the warmth blanket around her when his shoulders relaxed. “Are you going to stand there all night?” 

He limped further into the cabin. She could see the snow melting on his cloak, dripping on her floor. “You made a mess,” she huffed. 

His head lifted and cat-like eyes met hers. It was known his abilities and job forced him to lack showing how he felt. But, she noticed right away how his eyes drooped that he was in pain. 

She ran towards him, immediately untying his cloak so that it dropped to the floor. She gasped at the large claw marks scratched into his chest. He could withstand most injuries but the cuts had broken past the many layers of skin. 

“Fuck, Geralt. What happened?” Her finger ghosted over the wound on his shoulder. Almost immediately he grabbed her wrist. But she didn’t pull away. 

“I’m starving.” He took a moment to look her up and down before letting go of her wrist and walking past her. 

Unbelievable. She scoffed and followed him into her den. “Are you serious? Geralt, you’re hurt and need to be healed before you get an infection.” 

“I smell meat pie. Do you have any to spare?” He left no time for her to answer. He grabbed the plate on a table and began to shove them in his mouth. He groaned in satisfaction. 

She wanted to be annoyed, but she had never seen him act this way. So instead she watched as he stuffed his face. He sat down slowly in a wooden chair. His large body mass made it creak, rocking it with the sound of the crackling fire. His spastic breathing mellowed out into a deep sigh.

He was definitely hurting from his wound but there was something else. She could sense that something was bothering him. Yet, she didn’t pry for an explanation. Instead, she let him watch the fire as she gathered her supplies of elixirs and jars. Then she picked up the pot full of water hanging above the fire and poured it into a bowl. The steam warmed her face that was still cold from earlier. 

“Are you still hungry? I think I only have bread.” She sat her things on the table next to him, but not looking in his direction. However, she could feel his piercing eyes watching her every single move. “If you’re not feeling like bread I can stay up and make you soup.” 

His hand flew to her wrist. She jumped, nearly knocking over a bottle with green shiny liquid. She turned her head slightly, sighing deeply. “It hurts,” Geralt mumbled. 

His wound was red, inflamed, and looked worse in the light. And if Geralt says it hurts then it was worse than she had imagined. “Take your tunic off while I prepare.” Although it was her giving the instruction, she couldn’t help the heat on her cheeks arise. Especially when he did what he was told. She had only seen his bare chest a handful of times, but each time made her stomach knot up. 

He took a heavy breath as he settled back into the chair, wincing when she placed a hot cloth on his open wound. His nails dug into the chair. His teeth clenched as he threw his head back. She couldn’t help but giggle. In return, he snapped his head to look at her, visibly annoyed. “What?” 

She swatted him for the rash reaction. “No need to be hot headed, Geralt. I was only laughing because I’ve never seen you act so dramatic.” 

“I’m not being dramatic,” he argued. He winced again when the cloth touched his skin once more. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the smirk she tried to hide from him, her hair covered her face. Not thinking, he took his finger and pushed it out of the way so he could see her more clearly. 

She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach or how her chest was breathing differently. She even tried to look away subtly but the only thing she could look at without being suspicious was his bare chest. “How’s Yennefer?” 

The change of subject was almost as if she had poured salt into his fresh wounds. He yanked his hand away and turned his head to face the fire, jaw ticked. She should’ve felt guilty for bringing up his on and off lover. Instead, she felt relieved his attention was no longer on her and probably wouldn’t be the rest of the night. 

That’s how it always went. He would get too close and right before she fell under his spell she would mention the other woman. She had only met the sorceress once. They neither liked or disliked one another. Yet, she could tell there would not be any attempts to go frollicking in a field like they were the best of friends. 

In some ways, she had been jealous of Yennefer– she was interesting and traveled the Continent and had fought in many wars. She was beautiful and cunning. Of course Geralt would pick her as a lover. 

“Ow.” Geralt grimaced, shifting in the chair. Her fingers were touching the wounds, and spreading them apart. “Are you about done? I’m tired.” 

She continued to inspect his wounds closely, having to push between his legs to get a closer look. “I have to ensure there are no severe damages so I know what to make.” His huff made her roll her eyes. She wanted to swat him for still acting like a child. “Whatever got you, got you good, eh?” 

He looked away then back at her, swallowing. “Yes, I suppose.” 

There was a beat of silence. Only the fire was popping. 

“I thought I was goin’ to die.” He said out loud in a low whisper. Almost like he didn’t want her to hear him.

She stopped briefly to look up at him. He was serious. “Well, fortunately whatever it was missed your heart by a hair.” She pointed to where his heart was and traced a line to the start of one of the scratches only millimeters away. She got up, leaving him with a witty smile as she started to pour the many different potions into a different bowl. 

“Me and Yennefer haven’t spoken in months,” he admitted. 

It was hard not to react, but she had never seen him willingly talk about the woman before. “Oh.” 

“We wanted different things I suppose,” he continued. “If it weren’t for Ciri’s letters, then I wouldn’t even know if she was still alive.” 

“You miss her?” It was meant to sound like a question, but it came across as a statement. 

He looked down at his hands, ashamed. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to miss someone.” 

“Are you not allowed or are you unsure you know what it’s supposed to feel like?” 

He didn’t answer. 

She walked back and found her place again between his legs. “Missing someone feels like always looking at the door when there’s a knock, and your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s them.” She dipped her finger in the cream she had made and started to apply it to the open wound. 

“I don’t live in a cottage with a door.” His hands creeped to his thighs so they brushed her as she moved. 

She finished with the first cut and moved onto the second, which was much deeper and longer. “Well, missing someone can also feel like wanting to cry even when you’re happy.” 

“You do know I have emotions?” He quizzed her. 

She smirked. “Of course I do. I was only trying to help you figure out if you miss Yennefer.” 

He hummed, running a finger over the first wound she had treated which was starting to already heal. His skin attaching itself together again. “I miss her, but not in the way you think I do.” 

“Then in what way?” She raised her brow, clearly confused as to what he meant. 

He didn’t answer her right away. “Not in the way I miss you.” 

The bowl in her hand nearly clattered to the floor. She froze, replaying the words over and over as if she hadn’t heard him. Did Geralt really admit to missing her? No, he doesn’t actually mean it. He was messing with her. “That’s not funny.” Her breath was shaky. In fact, her hands were shaky too as she tried to continue healing him. 

“Did I make a joke?” His tone was unwavering. He placed his hand on her warm cheek, brushing his thumb over her soft flesh. He had never touched her so intimately like he was now. 

She shook her head, using her free hand to brush him away, focusing on the rest of his injuries. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delusional.” 

“I thought your potions helped with that?” 

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, briefly, before averting them back to the bowl. She swooped the last of the cream on her finger and spread it slowly over the last scratch. The others had closed up but one could make out the red scar. “Those will go away in due time,” she mumbled. 

As she tried to get up he caught her arm, standing up with her, and in doing so their chests were against one another. He could feel her heavy breathing. And she could feel the warmth from his body electrifying hers. 

“I should go make your bed. You need to rest.” She tried to walk away but his grip never left her arm. “Geralt.” 

He took the bowl from her hands and placed it back on the table. “How much longer will you deny it?” 

She swallowed the gasp that had almost escaped her, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” Finally, she had pulled away but made no efforts to leave the room, only stepping back to make space between them. And of course he could probably read her like an open book while she only had his stoic expressions to decipher. He opened his mouth, but closed it, sighing loudly. “Thank you, Y/n.” 

Her face softened. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you. In fact, I don’t know what I would do without you.” His jaw slacked, watching her intensely. 

She could feel the pull, like a magnet, all too familiar when it came to Geralt. Normally, she had to ignore it. But at that moment, it felt like a boiling pot of water, steaming and bubbling, unable to contain itself. And as she looked into his piercing eyes, the knot in her stomach told her it was time to say something. “Geralt.” Her voice was above a whisper. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?” His expression never faltered. 

She shifted her feet, uncomfortable. “I… I um… I’m making oat porridge in the morning.” She had decided it was best to hold back what she really wanted to say. “I’ll go prepare your room.” 

His yellow eyes narrowed, searching for hers. She knew he was watching the emotions swirl through her mind. She knew that he knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say to him. “No.” He was assertive and the growled vibrations dragged along her back like a dagger, giving her chills. 

Ignoring the goosebumps along her arms, she ran her hand over her face. “What do you want me to say?” She felt like a twig that had snapped. “Why are you being mean? You stand there forcing a confession out of me. A confession you will never get because there’s nothing to say.” Her tears burned in the corner of her eyes. She hated how foolish she looked in front of him. Crying and blubbering because he decided to dig deeper. 

They had a routine. He would knock on the door and she would heal his wounds. Their deep conversations were rare, and sometimes he wouldn’t speak at all. Sometimes he would leave in the morning without a word. So why must this time be any different than the others? 

“You’re angry.” 

She scoffed. “Yes, I’m angry.” Unable to face him, she turned to look at the fireplace, shaking her head. “That’s the most frustrating part of all of this. I’m angry that you’re here. I’m angry that I don’t see you for months with no word if you’re even alive. I’m angry that you show up when I’m missing you the most.” Her eyes caught his, her nostrils flared. She had had enough of it, storming up to him and putting a finger against his bare chest. “I’m angry that you sit there and touch me and talk to me like we’re lovers. I’m angry that you won’t go to someone else for help. Because I can’t do it anymore, Geralt. I can’t do it.” 

And there it was. Years worth of bubbling water, spilling over the pot and all over the floor. She had made a mess that she wasn’t sure if she would be able to clean up. 

Geralt’s jaw ticked, his eyes scanning her face. “You wish to not see me anymore? Would that be easier?” 

Her finger fell slowly from his chest. Her voice trembled. “It’s easier than caring about you.” 

Geralt brought his hand up slowly to her cheek, brushing his knuckle against a tear. “I am angry at you too,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed, unsure what he meant. “I told you I have feelings too. Yet, you assume I don’t. You assume I don’t care about you either.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you?” 

“Why do you think I keep coming back?” His jaw slacked. 

The tension between them was thick and palpable. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Her heart was torn. Even with the confession, there was no guarantee. He was a Witcher with responsibilities that were not suitable for the life she wanted. She pushed it away, cracking a smile. “Are you saying that you got injured on purpose? So you could see me?” 

“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth flickered, leaning his head down towards her. 

“You could’ve died.” She stepped closer to him, tracing her finger of his scars, looking at his lips.

“But I didn’t.” He said against her mouth, finally closing the gap between them. 

He wrapped his arms around her, strong and sure, deepening the kiss. It was gentle but fierce, full of longing and tension that had been built up along the years. It tasted like all the warm tea she had made for him over time. 

When she moaned, Geralt took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth, gliding it tenderly and carefully against hers, groaning in satisfaction. He somehow managed to pull her closer as if their bodies weren’t already meshed together.

It was her who broke away first, both of them gasping for air, chests heaving from the heavy kiss. Geralt’s eyes had turned black, his senses heightened, craving more. 

Without a word, she unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her chest as she dropped it to the floor. She kissed Geralt again on the mouth, his neck, and then his chest. She whispered in his ear, “I think I should go prepare your room now.” 

He nodded, allowing her to take his hand to lead him to her room, rather than the room up in the attic that her guests normally stayed in. It was full of knick knacks and books scattered. Her bed was unmade, but neither one of them cared. 

She pushed him on the bed, straddling his lap, peppering kisses all over his chest. If she was smart, she would savor all of it– every kiss and touch. But fuck all of it. She had waited too long to savor it.  She grinded herself against his hardness, smiling against his ear when she felt him jump through his trousers. Something had told her it was too long for him too. 

The rest of their clothes had found a new place on the floor of her bedroom. She was now laying down, Geralt hovered over her, his chain dangled over her face, and his hands roamed over her bare body as she whimpered under his touch. His lips attacked her neck, trailing down her body, relishing every inch. 

“Geralt,” she mewled. 

She felt the vibrations of his chuckle, revitalizing her, the warmth between her legs now ached. “Yes?” He came back towards her mouth, placing a life-wrecking kiss on it. 

She nibbled his bottom lip. “You know.” 

“Mm, I don’t think I do,” he teased. His hand was between her legs, fingers gliding, taunting her. 

She thrusted her hips upwards, forcing friction against her swollen clit, gasping when he slid a finger in her. “I need you.”

The pitiful look in her eyes convinced him enough to give her what she wanted. And because any longer, he felt like he would combust. Geralt pushed her legs apart and then guided his girthy length to her entrance, sliding it in slowly. 

She gasped as he sunk deeper inside her, finally able to marvel all of her. It was sweet like the honey she snuck in his tea. Rich like the pastries she packed in his knapsack whenever he left in the mornings, without saying goodbye because he was afraid he would never leave if he saw her golden smile in the mornings. Yet, he wasn’t strong enough to never come back. 

At first, his thrusts were slow and tender, slipping so deep that his tip reached as far as it could. She gripped his shoulders, nails forming crescents, back arching as he picked up the pace. She wanted to hug him with her thighs, but his hands were sure to keep them open and spread for him. 

The sounds of their sticky skin crashing together blended with their moans and grunts, forming a delectable melody. She pulled him into an open-mouth sloppy kiss, humming. The bed rattled beneath them, his pace was dangerously close to cracking the frame. 

In a swift move, he pulled her up, so that she was straddling him. Their bare chests flushed together, her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering as she bounced on his cock. “I’m… fuck,” she breathed, unable to make the words as it hit her sweet spot. 

“Me too.” He slightly pushed her shoulders back, wanting to see her. His palm cradled her face, swallowing the thickness stuck in his throat. He knew he looked destroyed. He didn’t show how he felt often, but the pent up tension over the year had finally arisen. 

“G…Geralt!” She shouted as her walls closed around him, releasing her orgasm around him, resting her forehead on his chest as he continued to move her up and down. She clutched onto him as if she was about to float away. 

He threw his head back as his cock twitched, finishing, He thrusted through his climax, panting as he slowed to a halt. His senses were still high and could hear the fire still crackling in the den. He could feel her breathing still rugged and hot, sticking to his chest. 

She couldn’t see it but Geralt let a small smile briefly appear as he stroked her bare back. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him, running her fingers through his snow-white hair. “Will you stay one more night?” 

He tilted his head, brows knitted together. “Are you still angry with me?” 

A mischievous glimmer crossed her eyes. “If I am, does that mean you’ll stay?” 

He snickered, placing a peck on her lips, lingering, scared if he were to break away she’d disappear. 

Angry or not, he was going to stay one more night.

[lvnleah]

001. | last game

word count: 2.7k

find the series masterlist here!

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May 27th 2023.

It was a bittersweet day. It was the last game of the 22/23 season in the WSL and Leah was out injured with her ACL and had been for the past month.

You watched on from the east stand with your wife, Leah, and her family at Meadow Park as the whistle blew for a final time this season. You and Leah gathered your things before making your way down to the pitch.

Leah joined the girls as they all formed a guard of honour for who was leaving the club. You watched on as Rafa said her goodbyes and the club presented Jordan with a framed shirt for her time at Arsenal as well.

Leah walked round the pitch to the best of her ability with the other girls, clapping and thanking the fans for attending while you and her family made your way onto the pitch. You were with Leah’s mum, Amanda, who you’d grown extremely close to in the four years you’d been with Leah.

You’d met Leah at sixteen at an England camp and out of the pair of you, Leah was the only one who went professional in football. You stopped playing when you turned eighteen because it didn’t feel right and ended up owning a small bakery.

You watched as Leah slowly walked around the pitch. She’d torn her ACL just over a month ago now and had recently had surgery a few weeks ago so her walking still wasn’t the best. You could tell that not being able to be on the pitch was killing her.

Leah finished applauding the fans before making her way over to you and her Mum, “Hey love, you alright?” Leah asked you, pecking your lips.

You nodded as she pulled you into a hug, “Yeah how are you?”

“Knees a bit sore,” she laughed, “Is it alright if we stick around for a bit?”

You nodded, “Yeah of course.”

You and Leah wandered around the pitch, hand in hand, as you said your hellos to different people and teammates. Everyone had their family and friends on the pitch, a few young kids ran around.

“Leah!” A little voice sounded. You looked down and saw a little girl, Kim’s niece, tapping Leah on the leg. Her little blonde curls bounced around on her head as she wore a mini arsenal kit. “Leah play with me?”

“I would love to!” Leah gasped, matching the little girl’s enthusiasm.

Leah grabbed a ball and made her way over to the penalty spot with the little girl, she placed the ball down before letting her kick into the goal. The fans erupted into a cheer as the ball went in, Leah cheered before leaning down the best she could and high-fiving the little girl.

A few other kids joined in and you watched on. You floated around, making small talk with people you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Y/N!” Beth smiled, embracing you in a hug as she held a baby. “How are you?”

You hugged her back, “I’m good, I should be asking you that.” You joke, “Who’s this little cutie?”

“I’m doing alright, sad I can’t be on the pitch,” Beth laughed. Beth herself was also out with her ACL as well as her girlfriend, Viv.. “This is Milo! Stole him from his Mumma, she’s a friend of mine and Viv's, he’s helping keep us entertained.”

You tickled Milo’s stomach, earning an adorable baby giggle, “Oh you’re such a cutie!”

You stuck with Beth and Milo, you and Beth got lost in a conversation as you wandered around the pitch. Every now and then you’d stop to say hello to someone else before continuing to wander around.

Leah was off playing to the best of her abilities with Kim’s nieces and nephews as well as a few other kids that had joined in. You, Beth and Amanda watched as she walked back and forth, giving each kid a turn at kicking the ball into the net.

Your heart warmed and your ovaries felt like they were going to explode, seeing Leah with kids made you feel full. Over the past few months, you’d seen Leah interact and look after her baby nephew which had built up this brodyness feeling inside of you. You’d been yearning for a baby for a while now and these past couple of weeks the talk of having kids had been brought up more.

The little kids ran back to their parents and Leah joined you and Beth. She wrapped her arms around your waist and placed a kiss on your shoulder.

“Who’s this little guy?” Leah cooed, tickling Milo’s stomach.

“Milo, he’s my godson.” Beth smiled, “little cheeky thing he is.”

Milo reached out, chubby fingers grasping at the air. Leah’s face softened, and she scooped him up, cradling him against her chest. Both of you played a game of peek-a-boo with Milo before handing him back to Beth.

As time wore on, the crowd started to leave and so did everyone on the pitch. Leah said her goodbyes to everyone before leaving with you and her mum.

You picked up a Chinese takeaway on the way home and took it back to your house, Amanda joined you two as well as Leah’s brother, Jacob. It was a simple yet perfect ending to a day filled with love and laughter.

Although you were occupied with spending time with Leah and her family, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Leah will all of the kids today. That same broody feeling still sat in your stomach, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about Leah holding and cradling Milo.

For a long time, you knew you wanted kids with Leah, it was something you’d talked about multiple times in the past. Reciprocal IVF was something you’d agreed on doing, you’d carry Leah’s egg and she’d carry yours when the time came. The only thought on your mind was starting a family with Leah all evening.

Amanda and Jacob ended up leaving late, meaning you and Leah climbed into bed as soon as they had left. You were both tired from a long and emotional day.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Leah asked as you slipped into bed beside her.

You sighed, “Le, do you still want kids?” Waiting for Leah’s answer filled you with anxiety, she could turn around and say anything.

A smile crept up on Leah’s face as she nodded her head, “Yeah, of course, I do. I’ve always imagined us with a few little ones running around, causing chaos,” she began to trace patterns on your thigh, “Do you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding your head, “I do and I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby, Le. I think now’s the right time, I know you’re out injured but it feels right.”

Leah’s eyes lit up, “Really? You’re really ready?” You nodded your head once again, “I’ve been ready for a long time, baby. I just wanted to follow your lead with everything.”

“Seeing Milo and the others today, it’s like something clicked inside me. I want this with you, I want a family.” You admitted.

Leah’s smile was blinding. She cupped your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “God, I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

You and Leah spent the rest of the night talking about how you imagined your future. You made up little scenarios together, talking about all the things you wanted to do with your kids and show them all the different things in the world.

The next few days were spent researching IVF clinics and getting recommendations from couples you knew who’d done reciprocal ivf. You found one local to you that seemed right for you and Leah.

After a month filled with many phone calls and different health checks, you and Leah finally began the IVF process. It was the perfect timing, you’d had a month to think about everything but it also gave you a few months together before Leah went back to training.

You’d both agreed that you’d be the one to carry the pregnancy but you’d used Leah’s egg. Using Leah’s egg meant that Leah had to have a round of different injections every evening in order to stimulate her ovaries. Previous to starting the medications, you and Leah were both put on birth control to sync your cycles.

When it was time to stop the birth control, you and Leah had a long appointment with your IVF nurse who explained how to use all of the medications and how to give the injections. You practised giving the injections on fake skin, making you more confident within yourself.

“You ready?” You asked Leah as you finished wiping the area with an alcohol wipe.

Leah nodded, you could tell she was nervous, “That needle is so big…” She murmured, “Why’s it so big?!”

Leah felt stupid panicking over a needle when you were the one who was going to have to carry a baby for nine months and eventually give birth.

“It’s just a needle, Le.” you laughed at your wife, “You ready?”

Leah nodded once again, “I’ll look away.” She said, looking over your head at the blank wall behind her.

Leah took a deep breath and clenched her fist. The room seemed to hold its breath too. You pressed the plunger, delivering the medication that would help Leah’s body produce the eggs needed for the egg retrieval process. The needle slid in smoothly, and Leah winced, her eyes squeezing shut.

You held the needle in for five seconds, pushing the medicine in, “Done,” you whispered, pulling the needle out.

Leah exhaled, her knuckles white from gripping the edge of the bed. You stood up and kissed her forehead. “We’re really doing this.” Leah grinned.

As the days passed, you and Leah continued with the injections. You began to take estrogen to help prepare your own body for the embryo transfer while Leah carried on with her injections.

Every evening you’d give Leah her injections and every few days Leah would have monitoring appointments to track how her eggs were maturing and when she’d be ready for the egg retrieval.

While Leah was taking the injections, her body began to change. By day three you’d noticed how drained she was, she was much more tired and had started taking multiple naps throughout the day. She was also crying more often, Leah had always been an emotional person but she was even more emotional while taking the injections.

You came home from work one day to find her crying over a puppy video she’d seen on TikTok.

By day eleven, Leah’s eggs were mature and ready for the egg retrieval. You were lucky that it only took eleven days rather than the fourteen it could’ve been. Thirty-six hours before the egg retrieval, Leah had her trigger shot. It gave her a day to prepare before having her egg retrieval.

Leah’s egg retrieval was a smooth process. It was a midday appointment and Leah’s recovery hadn’t begun yet, meaning that Leah didn’t have to worry about booking time off. The sedation sent Leah into a sleep, Leah claimed it was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life.

She didn’t remember most of it but you were there when she woke up. She felt groggy and was soon discharged for you to take care of her at home. Amanda brought round a lasagne for you both which you enjoyed together on the sofa. That evening consisted of laying together in bed, Leah had a hot water bottle strapped to her stomach due to the intense cramps she was having.

You were told to expect anywhere between five and fourteen eggs to be collected from the egg retrieval but because Leah had endometriosis that it was probably going to be on the lower side. The next day, your doctor phoned you with the news of how many eggs you’d managed to get.

Luckily, you got seven eggs which took both you and Leah by surprise. You’d both prepared yourself to get a lower amount of eggs, both of you expected to get four or five but you got seven. Seven little eggs that would soon become embryos.

Following the retrieval, your doctor fertilised the eggs and continued to prep your body for the transfer. You and Leah chose to use your brothers sperm, meaning the baby would be related to the both of you. You took both estrogen and progesterone in hopes of preparing your body successfully, which it did.

Six days after Leah’s egg retrieval, you had your transfer. Out of the seven of the eggs that were taken from Leah, only five made it through. You decided to transfer just one egg and freeze the other four for future use.

“You ready to go, pretty girl?” Leah asked you from beside the door as you grabbed the bag.

You nodded your head as you picked up your bag and slipped your shoes on, “Mhm, let's go get me pregnant!” You joked.

You spent that morning cuddled in bed with Leah, she ordered you breakfast from McDonald’s which you enjoyed in bed together.

Leah drove you both to the clinic, the radio played in the background as you and Leah talked about random things. When you arrived, you didn’t wait around long before your doctor called you in.

You changed into a gown and had to put on a hair net, Leah had to put on a hair net too which you made sure to snap a photo of. Leah held your hand as the doctors performed the small procedure. They talked you through each step and you were even able to watch it on the screen in front of you.

Five minutes later, the procedure was done and you were officially pregnant until proven otherwise. A little image of your embryo was given to you and Leah as well as a box of pregnancy tests that you weren’t allowed to take until after the two-week wait.

“I’m so proud of you,” Leah murmured against your forehead as you stood outside of your car. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” you smiled before pressing a soft kiss to Leah’s lips. “I’m so tired.” You yawned.

Leah chucked, opening your car door, “Let’s get you home, pretty girl.”

When you arrived home, your body felt weak and tired. You headed straight for your bedroom and climbed into bed but when you opened your bedroom door you were met with a surprise.

A little gift basket was set on the end of your bed, filled with different goodies. You turned around and faced Leah, tears welling in your eyes.

“Le, did you do this for me?” You asked, a tear slipping down your face.

She nodded, “I had my Mum bring it round while we were out, have a look at it.”

You stepped closer to the bed and rummaged through the basket. It was filled with all of your favourite snacks, skincare stuff and a brand-new blanket. On top of the blanket was a note attached.

You reached for the note, unfolding it carefully. Leah’s handwriting was written across the page, each word etched with love. “What’s this?” You asked.

“Open it,” she urged.

—

To my pretty girl,

I love you so much, more than words can describe. I’m so grateful to be doing this with you and I’m so proud to be your wife. Thank you for giving your body up as a place and home for our baby to grow. I can’t wait to experience this journey with you. I promise to treat you like a princess for the next nine months.

Love you lots,

Le <33

—

Tears continued to slip down your face as you turned on your heels to face Leah. She engulfed you and a hug and held you close to her chest.

“These next nine months are going to be perfect, I promise.” Leah whispered into your hairline.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 7 - Girl of The Season | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

You went out to dinner with Jack, Noah, Trent, and a few more of their friends. At first you didn’t want to go but Trent texted you that he better see you tonight. It made you giddy when he followed up...

It was sweet, playful, and everything you’d wanted. The night had started with excitement, a thrill of anticipation as you’d read more of Trent’s message telling you he’d have a hard time keeping his hands off you. It all had you feeling like a schoolgirl. You’d gone out thinking it’d be fun—a way to let loose and enjoy the easy chemistry that had been brewing between you and Trent, even with everyone else around. You imagined the night like any other was lately, filled with laughter and stolen glances that no one else would notice. The evening buzzed with energy, drinks flowing and stories spinning across the table. The group banter was easy, familiar. But as you sat at the table, laughing along to their stories, everything changed in an instant. One boy looked at Trent and asked a question that’s intent was harmless but catastrophic to you. 

“Bro, so who's the girl of the season right now?” The question was referring to something you didn’t know about. It hung in the air, a casual laugh among them, but it made you freeze. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to react to something you didn’t quite understand. Trent shifted in his seat, letting out a small laugh as he shrugged it off, but the other boys egged him on, teasing him as if they were letting you in on some kind of inside joke. Trent couldn’t do anything but let it play out. He felt helpless and stupid at the mercy of his own history. You knew Trent got with plenty of other girls before you but you had no idea it was so routine. That he’d apparently find a girl ahead of each football season began so he’d have someone locked in for when he was away and because he’d be too busy to go out and find someone- it was convenience not love. 

“Yeah, just share her now, mate. Or is she not locked in yet” Noah laughed. They kept laughing and adding to it, casually throwing around details as if this ritual was common knowledge, as if finding a girl for convenience was routine. It felt hollow, the notion that Trent had a pattern, that every season he had someone by his side just as a placeholder for when he was busy.

“Girl of the season huh?” You quipped with a raised brow. You felt sick but presented just teasing.  You tried to keep your tone light, even though your pulse was racing. You looked to Trent for clarity, a reassurance he didn’t immediately give. The boys kept talking. Even Jack joining asking if it was maybe going to be the girl he rejected i.e you. i.e the girl Trent had told them about after your incident at the club. Your heart sank, you wanted to cry but you bit back tears and spoke up once more. Inside you felt horrible. Were you merely his ‘girl or the season?’ “So… is there a contract?” you asked, sarcasm laced in your voice. “When’s the deadline day?” You quipped. But the weight of the situation bore down on you, leaving you feeling like you were nothing more than an option, something temporary. You were trying to join the banter just to survive, even though you were crumbling inside.

“Y/N it’s not that serious, the transfer window is always open” one boy laughed. All the boys laughed, not sensing the discomfort behind your smile. They couldn’t possibly know this information hurt you. They didn’t know everything that had happened behind closed doors.

“Yeah, it’s rolling. I was just curious because Trenty usually has his girl locked in by this point. Season’s started. You know a lucky lady to keep him… entertained,” Noah laughed, the others nodding in agreement. “She’s lucky… and convenient. He’s a busy man, after all.” He joked further. You felt the blood drain from your face, but you forced a smile. 

“Is it now? Wow… sounds really really good for you ” you sarcastically quipped. 

“Nah, lads relax… it’s not.” Trent tried to stop this. He could feel your tension even though it wasn’t showing on your composed face. Trent cut in, sensing the shift, his voice softening as he tried to redirect the conversation. His eyes flicked over you with a trace of panic and concern but most of all guilt. But the boys continued, chuckling about his past conquests, reeling off names as if recounting game stats. 

“Yeah remember the year you won the Champions league you were cooking with girls. Lol.  Michele, Keely, Taylor…” Noah added. It was a boys dinner and suddenly you realized that and they didn’t. Noah forgot about the obvious crush you had on Trent. Noah meant no harm but this was making you sick. The illusion of intimacy shattered in your mind, leaving raw insecurity and a sudden urge to escape. Trent sensed it, reaching for your hand under the table, a dangerous move but it was the only thing he could do, his touch gentle, but you pulled back, suddenly feeling exposed. Trying to keep your composure, you excused yourself and walked quickly to the bathroom. Your hands shook as you closed the door, the glossy, tiled walls offering little comfort. The hurt hit you all at once, and you sank onto the floor, your breath hitching as you tried to hold back tears, feeling crushed under the weight of it all. The thought that you’d been so easily slotted into a role in his life—temporary, interchangeable, convenient—cut deeper than you’d imagined. Had you let yourself believe you were different to him? That you mattered more?  In the solitude of the bathroom, the truth crashed over you in waves. It wasn’t just that he had been with other girls before—of course he had. But this casual talk, the way they all laughed as if his relationships were nothing more than placeholders, as if this ‘girl of the season’ title was just part of the cycle… it made you feel disposable. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hot tears blurring your vision. You felt naive, stupid even, for letting yourself fall for someone who’d apparently seen you as convenient. For thinking you were different. It felt foolish to imagine you could hold a place in his life that was anything more than temporary. In the cold, sterile quiet of the bathroom, you replayed every tender moment you’d shared with Trent, every laugh, every late-night conversation, every quiet touch that had felt so real. And now, it felt like it had all been a facade. How could you have been so naive?

After a few deep breaths, you pulled yourself together, standing up and dabbing at your eyes. You couldn’t hide out forever, no matter how much you wanted to. You checked your reflection, steeling yourself, and returned to the table, forcing a breezy smile as you slid back into your seat, a mask of indifference firmly in place. But as you settled in, Trent’s gaze caught yours, worry etched across his face. He’d seen the hurt lingering in your eyes, even as you tried to hide it. The question of whether he cared—whether he’d ever care as deeply as you did—hung between you, unspoken but heavy. And in that moment, you realized you didn’t want to be anyone’s ‘girl of the season.’ Not even his. Trent looked at you, his gaze intense, worry etched into his features. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t do anything and you loathed him for it. You averted your eyes, focusing instead on your drink, anything to avoid his gaze. Your heart was screaming that you weren’t. You’d wanted so badly for him to see you as more, for what you had together to mean something real. And now, you weren’t sure if it ever could. 

The night had unraveled faster than you could process, and the hurt simmered, sharp and bitter, as the dinner ended. You didn’t look at Trent once more the rest of the night, you completely ignored him. Trent’s presence had been an ache next to you that you ignored, refusing to look his way, refusing to acknowledge him as if somehow that might make the pain hurt less. You were barely holding it together when you all stood up to leave. The others filed out, laughing and talking, but you pulled Jack aside and asked if he could drive you to Layla’s instead. Jack chuckled, a teasing grin on his face. 

“Why did Trent even buy you that car if I’m always the one driving you around?” he teased, completely unaware of the turmoil swirling inside you. You forced a smile, ready to brush it off, but Trent stepped in, his voice firm.

“I’m heading that way, Y/N. Let me drop you at Lay’s,” he said. You snapped back a quick ‘No,’ trying to keep your tone dismissive, trying to make it sound like you just didn’t want to be a bother. But Jack insisted, scoffed teasingly,  rolling his eyes.

“Go with him, Y/N. I don’t want to drive across town,” he said, half-joking, his car keys dangling in his hand as he made a show of locking his car door to prevent you from climbing in. Frustration bubbled up, and you were close to tears, caught between trying to hold it together and wanting to break down. 

“Jack, please. Just drive me home then,” you whispered, your voice barely hiding the tremble. But after a bit more back and forth, with Jack being relentless and Trent silently waiting, the rest of the boys’ cars pulled out, Jack’s included, leaving you and Trent alone in the dark, quiet car park. The silence in the parking lot was thick, broken only by the distant sound of traffic and the soft hum of streetlights above. You stood there, feeling exposed, raw from the dinner that had stripped away your illusions. You wanted to hide, to be anywhere but here, but Trent’s gaze held you still. His eyes, so familiar and usually so gentle, were clouded with an intensity that made your chest ache.

“Come here,” he said quietly but sternly, his hand reaching out for you, his voice steady but soft. Trent was still, his face serious, any of the laughter from dinner completely gone.

“No,” you said sharply, pulling back. Your voice cracked, and you bit down hard on your lip to keep the tears at bay. “Just… don’t, Trent. Just leave me alone. I’m not going with you. I’ll call an uber.” You snipped. You wanted to shout, scream at him for everything you’d heard tonight and for the pain it had left you with, but you were too tired, too heartbroken to manage anything louder than a whisper. “Please leave me alone.” You whispered once more as the tears on your lash line finally tipped over.  You felt the tears streaming down now, the anger and hurt tumbling out as you cried, unable to contain it any longer. But he wasn’t giving up. 

“Y/N, look at me,” he said firmly, stepping closer, his voice firmer this time. “Do you know what year I won the Champions League?” His question made you flinch; the reminder of the stories his friends had told, of the girls they’d listed, was like salt in a wound. He was asking you to recall the very thing that hurt. He asked like the question mattered, like it would fix anything. You swallowed hard, struggling to keep your voice steady.

 “I don’t care, Trent,” you whimpered, wiping a hand across your tear-streaked face.You glared at him, your eyes blazing with hurt. And then a different emotion appeared in full force. “I don’t care, T. I don’t care about any of it,” you snapped, wiping angrily at the tears falling faster. But he wasn’t deterred. His jaw was set, his eyes locked on yours, determined to make you hear him.

“The year I won the Champions League,” he began slowly, voice low but steady, “was the year you had that serious boyfriend.” His words hung between you like a confession, and for a second, you forgot to breathe. For context, he wasn't referring to Josh. You remembered that year — the love you’d thought you had found with another boy, the trust that had shattered when you’d learned of his cheating. But why was Trent bringing it up now?  “I couldn’t stand it, Y/N,” he said, his voice softening, breaking just slightly. “I couldn’t stay home watching you be his. I needed… anything, anyone, to stop thinking about you with him. It hurt.” He explained but it wasn’t enough.

“Oh, am I supposed to feel bad for you, Trent? You needed a distraction while I was dating someone? He was cheating on me, okay?” The anger that had simmered in you suddenly flared up, burning bright.  “So poor you. I’m so sorry that you had to fill your fucking bed with so many girls. And mind you so many that you couldn’t even be asked to be there for me during one of the worst years of my life. Trent, he was cheating on me! And now… now I’m here again, wondering if I’m just another ‘distraction’ for you.” You choked, the tears coming faster now, the memories making the hurt sting even more. “He had other women, and you’re doing the same thing. I’m never enough, Trent! You all always need someone else. Something more than me” You yelled generalizing all men. You were lumping Trent with every other man.

“Baby… please.” He begged with a pet name that made you wince at the minute.  And while it wasn’t entirely correct what you were saying, there was truth in it. You took a step back, throwing your hands up, cutting him off. 

“No! This is exactly what it is, Trent. I am never enough. I give everything, and it’s never enough for you… for any of you!” The words came out in a yell, louder than you intended, and in that moment, you couldn’t stop the full on sobs, letting them spill over, hot and blinding as they streamed down your face.

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” he said gently, reaching out to you, but you stepped back, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from the pain. He shook his head, his eyes pleading, as he stepped closer trying again.. 

“This isn’t right,” you said, voice hoarse from crying. Trent was silent, his face losing its color as he took in the weight of your words. “We need to stop. I can’t… I can’t do this to Jack. Lying to him when he’s given me everything, and I’m giving it all to you, and to you I’m just… nothing.” The words cracked, a final, painful admission, the weight of it all too heavy to bear. Trent’s face crumpled with remorse, his gaze full of guilt, and without a word, he stepped into you, and this time, when he reached for you, you didn’t resist. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, and for a moment, you let yourself be held, resting your forehead against his chest as you breathed in his familiar scent amidst your tears. He was warm, solid, and despite everything, being in his arms felt safe. You fought him for a moment, weakly pushing against his chest, but he held on, his grip steady and strong, grounding you as you let the tears fall. Shame and guilt washed over him, silent and heavy, as he held you close, feeling the depth of what he’d let happen. And for a moment, the world fell away, the pain eased by the warmth of his arms, though neither of you could find words to fix it. 

“I know I don’t deserve you, but I promise… it’s not like that. It never has been with you. You’re not just another girl. I’ve waited so long, Y/N…”  He quietly whispered, voice thick with emotion as he gently stroked your back. “I should’ve done more to stop it, I just… I don’t know but I know I fucked up at dinner. I know I’m not doing enough but I also don’t know how to make this better, but I want to. I want this. I want you. And I swear, it’s not a game for me.” His fingers brushed through your hair, his voice a soothing murmur, and you let yourself lean into him, the weight of your pain easing slightly. But as he held you, another ache rose in your chest, heavier, more real. 

“It’s just… Jack is all I have, Trent,” you said, voice muffled against his chest. “You and Jack… you’re all I have left.” And the words tasted like truth, a bittersweet reminder of everything you’d lost, of the fragile balance you were trying so hard to keep. “I can’t do this.” You whimpered. “Not for something that isn’t even real to you.” You whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, a soft, tender gesture that made your heart clench. 

“I don’t want you to feel like…. like this isn’t real to me. If it’s even possible it’s so much more real than I ever thought possible and I’m sorry I’m shit at handling it.” His words hung in the cool night air, full of promise, and as he held you, the quiet between you was thick with things unsaid. You closed your eyes, letting yourself believe him for a moment, letting yourself hope that somehow, you wouldn’t have to choose, that somehow, you could keep them both. His arms were a steady warmth around you, and though the pain hadn’t faded completely, in this moment, it felt like maybe… just maybe… there was a way forward.

The car hummed softly beneath you as Trent pulled out of the parking space, his hand warm and steady around yours, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and bittersweet. The weight of the evening still sat heavily on your shoulders, the words exchanged at dinner echoing in your mind, each one pulling at the fragile threads of the trust you’d placed in him. But now, in this quiet moment, his hand was solid in yours, and that simple touch brought a calm you desperately needed. You shifted in your seat, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his shoulder against your cheek as you closed your eyes, letting the silence settle between you. He brushed his thumb softly over your knuckles, a small but constant reassurance that he was here, that he was with you. The faint streetlights casted a gentle glow over the car’s interior, illuminating his face in the soft shadows, and you felt yourself easing just slightly, even as your heart continued to ache.

“Do you think…. Erm, T…Do you think I could just go to your house tonight?” you whispered, barely audible stumbling to get to the ask out. “I’m really sad, and I don’t want to sleep alone.” Your voice wavered, thick with tears, and you sniffled, trying to steady yourself. He looked at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he took in the vulnerability you were offering, no walls, no defenses. It’s not that you didn’t want to see Layla. It was just that you knew if you told her what you heard tonight she’d have an opinion and it wasn’t that you didn’t value her thoughts, you just needed to get yours in order before you debriefed. Was Trent’s bed the best place to sort those? No, but you wanted his comfort, he’d always been your comfort. 

“Yeah, pretty girl,” he murmured, a tenderness in his eyes that was almost enough to make you believe everything could be okay. “You can come be with me tonight. You can sleep with me whenever you want, okay? My baby.” His words wrapped around you like a promise, one that felt as real as the warmth of his hand around yours, and you nodded, your head finding its way back to his shoulder. For a while, you just stayed like that, nestled into him as he drove, his thumb tracing soothing patterns over your hand resting on his thigh. The city lights blurred softly as he drove, casting gentle reflections against the car windows, and you let yourself sink into the quiet comfort of his presence, each moment a balm to the ache in your heart.

When you reached his house, he parked and didn’t let go of your hand as you both made your way inside, guiding you gently through the door, his touch never wavering. Once inside, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You melted into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time all night, you felt yourself relax, the weight of the world slipping just a little as he held you. 

He guided you to his bedroom and suddenly a big smile pulled on his face. Tiredly you asked him why he was smiling like that. You weren’t in the mood and really weren’t in the mood for any cheek. But that gorgeous cheeky smile all made sense once you were stood in Trent’s ensuite, holding a brand new pink Goyard wash bag in your hands. Despite everything weighing on your mind, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You traced the soft pink leather with your fingers, glancing back at him with a puzzled smile as he came into the room, his own grin lighting up his face.

“T… what is this?” you asked, holding it up. He chuckled, stepping closer.

“It’s the same one I have, because, obviously, it’s the best one,” he explained, “mine’s white but I got it for you in pink so it’s like a Mr. and Mrs. thing, you know?” The sincerity in his voice melted something inside you. You turned and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

“Go on, open it though,” he urged gently, nodding toward the wash bag, his eyes bright with anticipation. You hadn’t even realized the weight of it, realizing that clearly there were things inside of it as well. You raised a brow, a little surprised—did he really go beyond the bag itself? Unzipping it, you peeked inside and felt an instant laugh bubbling up as you took in all the familiar beauty products you’d mentioned to him the other night, each one carefully packed. You looked up at him in disbelief, a smile stretching across your face as he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I actually had to ask my mum to come with me,” he confessed, laughing as he watched your expression. “Didn’t want to look like a complete idiot in the beauty section.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, picturing him awkwardly shuffling through the aisles, trying to get it all right. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, shaking your head with affection. Trent pulled you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back as he looked down at you, his voice softer now. 

“You’re my only girl, alright? You know you always have been. I’m sorry that I did things that made it seem like you weren’t. I’m sorry it took me so long to show you that…Only girl I’d ever pay that kind of money for ounces of cream for.” He laughed, clearly mocking the price tag on your La Mer moisturizer. “But for you… anything.” And with that, the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back started spilling over. You wiped at them with the back of your hand, giggling through your sniffles, embarrassed but touched beyond words.

“Stop, baby!” he laughed, reaching up to gently swipe a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “Please no more tears. I hate when you cry so, so much,” he whispered, pulling you close again.

“Sorry,” you murmured, a soft giggle slipping out as you looked up at him. You stood on your tiptoes, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth and safety of him radiate through you. Trent brushed his nose against yours, his hand cradling your cheek as he whispered, 

“I’ve got you, pretty girl. Always.” And for the first time in a while, you felt your heart settle, the ache easing just a little as you held onto him, feeling the promise of his words wrap around you.

You crawled into Trent’s bed, pulling back the covers, and let out a surprised laugh when you saw the smooth, cool silk pillowcases he’d swapped in just for you. Trent stood nearby, watching your reaction with a smirk, his hands on his hips.

“See?” he teased, puffing up a little as if he’d won a major victory. “Got the silk pillowcases and everything. I’m in, baby.” He cooed proudly. This act so clearly showed he was making an effort. You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the gesture, a warmth spreading across your chest. 

“You actually do the most,” you said, shaking your head, but the grin on your face gave you away. The fact that he’d followed through with something so small, something that made you feel comforted and at home, touched you deeply. He moved closer, and you reached out, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent—a mix of his cologne and the lingering warmth of the day. He wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “Thank you for liking me… for doing all of this.” His eyes softened, and he gazed at you with such tenderness that it made your throat tighten. 

“Always,” he murmured. He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, then kissed your forehead. The touch was gentle, lingering, as if he wanted to press his feelings directly into your skin. You both climbed into bed, and as you got comfortable, you found yourself settling halfway on top of him, your back resting against his side, your legs tangled with his. His hand found its way to your collarbone, tracing light, lazy patterns that sent shivers down your spine. His touch was calming, grounding you in a way that made you feel safer than you had in a long time. In the dim light, with only the moon casting soft shadows across the room, you found the courage to ask something that had been weighing on your mind. 

“T... Do you think…” you started, your voice hesitant, “we’ll ever be able to really go out together? Like, just… be out in the open?” You asked. The vulnerability in your voice made Trent pause. He turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression earnest. A gentle smile pulled at his lips. 

“Yeah, course if you want that,” he said, his voice full of quiet conviction. His fingers paused in their gentle tracing, and he shifted slightly to look at you more directly. “I mean… things have been good between us I thought but I also didn’t know you wanted that. For us to like go on a date or anything. I wasn’t sure if you liked the secrecy. I don’t know what you thought.” He explained to you sheepishly. Clearly things worked well between you in the bedroom and while you had no problem discussing that, it was also so glaringly obvious there was more to this relationship than just the sex… you just hadn’t said it yet. You bit your lip, feeling both shy and exposed. 

“I do,” you admitted. “I mean, I know it’s complicated, but… I just want to be with you.” He smiled again, this time with a deeper, knowing affection. 

“I want that too. I really do,” he told you. “I just didn’t know how serious you wanted this to be. But if you want it… then I’m in. Silk pillow cases, dates, whatever you want.” His words made your heart flutter, and for a moment, the world felt a little brighter. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but this time they were happy ones. You didn’t say anything more, afraid that if you spoke, you might start crying for real. Instead, you leaned in and kissed his jaw, your lips lingering as you tried to show him everything you couldn’t put into words. That night, there was no urgency between you, no rush to tear each other’s clothes off or tumble into anything wild. Instead, there was a softness that blanketed the room, a shared vulnerability that felt like a bridge between your hearts. You both exchanged gentle, lingering kisses that were more about comfort and closeness than anything else, the tender brush of lips and shared warmth easing the hurt from earlier. As you settled into the soft sheets, the familiar comfort of his bed easing the ache in your chest. His hands gentle as they traced soothing patterns over your back. You curled into him, your legs tangling with his, seeking out every ounce of warmth and comfort he could offer. As you laid there, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.  “I want you.”  He murmured softly. “And only you. Always have.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart squeeze, and you found yourself finally breathing a little easier. And as you drifted to sleep, his arms wrapped securely around you, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself to believe in him, in this, in a future where he was more than just a fleeting presence in your life. You squeezed his hand once more, a silent promise to yourself that tonight, at least, you could find peace in his arms. When you finally drifted off, you did so with your head on his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, your cheek pressed against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Your face was relaxed, your pouty bottom lip just barely brushing his skin. Trent lay there, his hand stroking your back in gentle circles, the other cradling the back of your head. He pressed soft kisses to your hairline, whispering to you even though you were already half-asleep. He stayed awake longer, watching the soft, peaceful expression on your face as you dreamed. Guilt twisted in his chest as he thought about how hurt you’d been earlier, how you’d tried to hide it but couldn’t quite keep the pain from seeping through. He wished he could take it all back, erase the moments that made you doubt him. The memory of your stricken face during dinner haunted him, and he knew he had to make it right. His mind began to work on a plan, a way to take you out on a real date, one that wouldn’t be about sneaking around or hiding. He wanted to show you off, to be open about how much you meant to him. He imagined a perfect night, one that would make you smile so brightly that he could forget the hurt he’d caused. As he held you, his chest tightening with how much he cared for you, he promised himself he’d make it happen. You were his only girl, always had been, and he was determined to show you that in every way possible. Even if he couldn’t fix the past, he’d make sure the future was full of moments where you never had to doubt what you meant to him.

After that dinner, things settled back into something you could only describe as uneasy but fine. You still were living this double life, lying to Jack. Keeping the extent of your new life beyond the first fuck from Layla. On the inside of houses, the confines of bedrooms, everything felt perfect; the chemistry with Trent was undeniable, and whenever you were together, it felt like the two of you were building something real. But the moment he left, that foundation started to shake. Alone, doubts crept in, the taunting whispers of insecurity that left you questioning every detail. The laughs and comments from the dinner echoing in your mind. Was this how he made every ‘girl of the season’ feel? Were they all secrets he kept? His history loomed over him. It made you wonder, was this just the same story with you? Only now, Jack's little sister had the lead role, the fact making you feel more self conscious of how he viewed you.  

Layla's constant questions, innocent but probing, made it worse. She didn't know the real extent of what was going on, only that something had happened. She knew you fucked but after that… you kept your lips sealed. Saying you weren't sure either, which was a half truth... you didn't but you also were omitting the fact that you were spending night's together. And while you wanted to confide in her, every part of you held back, afraid of exposing too much-afraid it would all unravel the moment it wasn't hidden. More people couldn’t know, it was too risky. The secrecy felt safe but also confining, and your chest ached every time you thought of it. The double life weighed on you more than you'd ever let on to Trent. And yet, when he messaged you during his away game, that familiar excitement flared up, and you felt that ache turn into something else, a want to remind him of you, make him feel how much chemistry you two had. For the moment you were hidden but after the dinner, after his promises you wanted to make sure he was certain. He texted asking to call you. You were nervous to agree but who wouldn’t want to facetime Trent Alexander-Arnold in bed. You weren’t sure how to act at first but then you decided– You wanted to make it clear you wanted him. You wanted to make him want you. Apprehensive but determined, you sifted through your wardrobe quickly, finding the boldest, most daring piece of sleepwear you owned. It was underwear disguised as something casual. You finally sat in front of the camera, as his call pinged through your phone. You answered, and immediately his jaw dropped. 

"Oh my fucking days," he murmured, his voice low, a mixture of shock and hunger flashing in his eyes. The look he gave you sent a thrill through your entire body.

"Hi," you cooed, feigning innocence as you adjusted your posture slightly, giving him an even better view. A small, mischievous smile tugged at your lips. You wanted this to be memorable. Trent leaned closer to the screen, shaking his head with disbelief and lust flaring behind his eyes.

"You look unreal. Fucking hell," he said, his gaze tracing every curve as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. You felt a rush of power, the distance fading as he soaked up every detail of your look. But it wasn’t just the look, it was everything; the clearly recently lotioned skin, the faux innocence, the vibes were just everything Trent would want. 

"I just want to make sure you don’t think of me only as Jack's sister." You met his eyes, holding his gaze as you whispered. The words hung in the air, a truth you'd wanted to tell him for a while figuring now while you had his attention would work.

"Trust me, he's the last thing I'm thinking about right now," Trent chuckled, still in awe, his eyes glued to you.

"I hope you’re not thinking about other girls while you’re away," you murmured almost as a test but simultaneously a tease running a hand slowly along your raised collarbone over to your shoulder, playing with the delicate strap of your bra as his breath visibly caught.

"Trust me, they're the last thing I'm thinking about," he repeated, his tone shifting, voice raw. “I don’t know who you’re even talking about, baby.” You could see it in his eyes-there was no one else he wanted right now. And that single, unspoken promise was all you needed to feel. “I don’t want any of that. You know that.I want you. Don’t play me, baby.” He smirked, his voice dropping, filled with a frustrated need that made your pulse quicken.

“I’m not playing.” You stretched out languidly, letting your voice drop to a purr. “Just thought you might like a little reminder of what’s back at home for you.” You told him. 

“Trust me, I don’t need one.” His voice softened, a hint of a smile in it now. “You’re all I think about. So don’t tease me like this. Oh my days, Y/N…” His eyes lit even more as the bra top was practically falling off. 

“Yeah?” you asked, feigning a nonchalant surprise. You could almost feel the tension through the phone. As you toyed with Trent, pulling down the thin strap of your bra, his breath hitched. The teasing, the slow build—it was intoxicating, leaving him hanging on every move you made. He was completely fixated as you gradually peeled away each item of clothing, your body on full display, leaning back against your bed, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smile. His reaction was instant, a low groan escaping him.

"Oh my god," he breathed, raking a hand over his curls, unable to tear his eyes away. Just as you began to lower the phone whilst opening your legs. A shiver ran through you. Feeling bolder than ever with what you were about to do. 

"Hold on-my phone's about to d-” You glanced away from the camera, then, without warning, hung up, pretending the call had dropped. Your phone dead. The silence that followed was deafening on his end. For a moment, Trent just blinked, waiting for you to reappear, only to realize you weren't coming back. It dawned on him that you'd left him high and dry, and he almost laughed in disbelief but the strain in his jogger was excruciating. This wasn’t funny at all. Not to him. It wasn’t long before the messages began flooding your phone, his name lighting up your screen as he called again and again.

Trent was spinning out. He couldn’t believe that just happened. You settled back against the pillows, heart pounding as you watched the texts roll in. Your phone buzzed—one, two, three times in a row again and again. 

But then you turned it off though to play the part. Still, you laid there opting to grab your laptop  staring at his messages flood in with a smile. This felt good. It was so easy to believe him when you were together, to let yourself feel like the only girl on his mind. But alone, doubts crept in, filling the space he left behind. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of making him wait for once. He called but your phone was off or ‘dead’ in his mind. He prayed you’d fucking charge it now. He was desperate for you and only you. He was almost embarrassed he had called and texted so many times but he wanted you so badly but as time ticked on he knew this was not an accident, this was chess, Begrudgingly he took matters into his own hands literally.  Hours later, you finally responded to his barrage of messages, typing with a grin tugging at your lips. You had left him out to dry and you kind of loved the power switch.

You wrote, knowing very well he was the culprit who'd taken your charger in an effort to hide things from Jack the other day. Your message was cheeky and taunting, almost blaming him for why he didn't get to have the call continue. Really just hammering home that you knew what you were doing. You could practically feel his frustration through the screen as he replied, a flurry of texts that only made you smirk, still desperate for you. His handiwork would never match what you offered.. You had him exactly where you wanted him, and something told you he wouldn't let you get away with this so easily and you couldn't’ wait.

The anticipation had been building for a whole day after the call, ever since Trent's away game ended. You knew he'd be coming back to you straight away. You had teased him mercilessly during that facetime, flaunting your body and hinting at all the naughty things he could do to you when he returned. But then your phone died or you could also say well… you just hung up. His desperate pleas over texts only fueled your excitement, and you couldn't wait to have him back in your arms, and beneath you or under you. You didn’t care. Jack was out and you were in… and in and just in a tiny tank top and panties. As soon as Trent walked through the door, his eyes locked onto yours, burning with a mixture of desire and frustration. He strode purposefully towards your bedroom, just moving straight past you and straight to the point,  his broad shoulders exuding confidence and determination. You followed, unable to resist the pull of his magnetic presence. It was like he came in and didn’t need to say a thing because you knew he was frustrated. Not actually, just sexually and you liked it the build up. You had to fight back a giggle as you came into your room after him, plopping yourself on the bed. 

"Baby," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he stood in your room. You couldn’t read the inflection. It almost sounded like he was disappointed? Was he actually mad? Momentarily you were nervous but he looked so god damn sexy like this, hungry almost, you wanted to keep up your game just to see what would happen. You were lying on the bed, your hair cascading over the pillows, a seductive smile playing on your lips.

"Did you miss me?" you teased, propping yourself up on your elbows, your tits straining against the thin fabric of your tank top. Trent's eyes darkened at the sight, his gaze flicking between your face and your exposed cleavage. "I'm tired, I won’t lie" you continued, feigning innocence. "You must be too from the flight. Maybe we can just catch up on some sleep tonight.” You knew you were being a tease, and the thought of driving him wild excited you even more. 

Then there was a shift in the room. He came over to you, his hand picked up your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“You’re not tired.” Trent growled, a low sound that sent shivers down your spine. He told you very matter of fact. "You've been so naughty, baby…teasing me like that," he said, his voice laced with a possessive edge. "You know how much I thought about you dressed like that in this bed alone in my hotel." A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as you realized the extent of your power over him. You'd left him with a constant ache, his cock throbbing and heavy with desire. But the shift in power was singly like a pendulum. Now back to you. 

"I know, baby," you cooed, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "But you like it when I'm a bad girl, don't you?" Trent's eyes blazed with passion as he grabbed your hand, pressing a heated kiss to your palm. 

"No, baby… I like when you’re a good girl f’me. And you've been a very bad girl, and I'm not having that," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "You’re gonna be a good girl now. Right now. And I’m gonna take what's mine.” He said ferociously but steadily calm as he climbed onto the bed, straddling your waist, his hard muscles pressing into your soft curves. You gasped as his weight settled on you, his erection straining against his trousers, pressing into your core through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading your tits through your top, causing your nipples to pebble in response. "You like being my good girl though, don't you, baby?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You like it when I touch you, when I take what I want." You arched into his touch, your breath coming in short gasps. 

"Yeah huh, T," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. Your resolve crumbling, the game falling to pieces instantly.

“I know you do. And right now I want you.but you didn’t seem to want me…” he taunted, still teasing you. “ So beg.” He commanded.

 "I need you please. Please T… I’m sorry.” You whined. The tides turned so fast. The power dynamic has returned to where it was before. With a growl, he tore your top off, baring your tits to his hungry gaze. His mouth claimed one taut peak, sucking and nibbling, while his hand cupped the other, rolling and tugging gently. Your back arched off the bed further, offering yourself to him, your hands threading through his hair, urging him on.

"See? Such a good girl," he murmured between kisses, his hands now exploring your body, sliding down your stomach, tracing the waistband of your panties. "But….” He began and your heart skipped a beat. What did you get yourself into? “Can’t be acting like that. You've been so bad, baby. You’re not doing all that with me. I’m in charge, hmm?” He hummed. You whimpered as he hooked his fingers under the elastic, slowly sliding your panties down your thighs, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. His eyes devoured you, taking in every detail of your swollen lips and the dampness between your thighs. "So wet for me. You like this, don’t you? Me in charge of you. In control." he growled, his voice thick with desire. You nodded. He was 1000% correct. You weren’t sure you’d ever been more turned on in your life. "You’re gonna take my cock now.” He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, his cock straining against his trousers. With one swift motion, he ripped at the button and zipper, freeing his thick length. You moaned at the sight, your pussy clenching in anticipation.

"Please, baby. I want your cock. I’m so sorry," you begged, your voice breathless. "I need you inside me." He didn't make you wait long. You thought he’d draw out the teasing but neither of you could wait any longer. With one powerful thrust, he filled you, stretching and claiming you in one stroke. You cried out, your body welcoming him, your walls gripping and milking his length.the stretch was deliciously painful. You were so tight from minimal prep but god you were wet he just slid in.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as he began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with fierce possessiveness. It was clear immediately this was going to be a rough fuck. "You're mine, baby. All mine." You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm. His hands gripped your hips, leaving marks on your skin as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every stroke.

"You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he panted, his breath hot against your neck as he nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin. "You want me to fuck you hard?" He asked with a smirk you could feel. “Gonna have you begging for more of me.” 

"Yes, please," you whimpered, your head thrown back, your body on fire. "I want it all. I want you to take me, own me." You’d never acted so submissive in your life. This was like an alternative universe only he could create. Trent obliged to your pleas eagerly, his movements becoming more primal, more demanding. Trent kept one hand on your hip guiding your movements but brought his other up your body, his hand wrapping around your neck, eyes pinned to yours. You gasped feeling his tip smashing against your cervix and orgasm barrelling towards you. But then he surprised you by letting go of your neck, slowing his pace ever so much so that the coil loosened in your stomach, the climax retreating momentarily. He was playing games with you. “You wanted to play with me, baby the other day? I’ll play with you.”  He taunted. He moved his hand off your neck and up to cup your cheek. Then swiftly he dragged his thumb across your lips. He slipped it into your mouth with ease as he pulled your mouth open by your bottom lip. He spit his saliva into your mouth and you swallowed diligently with a moan before he pushed his thumb all the way back in for you to suck on it like you would his cock. He groaned when your eyes began to flutter closed with a whine, simultaneously swirling your tongue around his finger. 

“Such a good girl f’me.” he gripped your chin looking longingly into your eyes. He loved everything about this. Being in control of you. You letting him control you. You wanting him to control you. He tucked his face in the nape of your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive skin. His hair tickling you. Hoarse grunts escaping him as you soaked him. He hit that spot deep inside you, only he knew.  All you could think about was the way he hit that spot again and again, continuously. He felt so good when he dropped his hand between you to rubbing your throbbing clit. He knew how to make you cum and he was going to do it well but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you. So he pulled out and  flipped you onto your stomach, throwing you around like a rag doll, positioning you on all fours, your ass raised high in the air, your back arched to perfection, presenting yourself to him. With a possessive growl, he smacked your ass, leaving a stinging imprint of his hand. "Why’d you have to act like such a naughty fucking girl, baby?" he whispered, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. But instead of a whine, you moaned in pleasure. You liked when he slapped your ass. "You like it when I punish you, don't you?" He smirked, mildly surprised that you were this down for him to have this much control. Obviously you knew each other well but in the bedroom you were still finding things out. 

"Yes," you moaned, your voice hoarse as you pushed back against him, inviting more because you knew more were coming. Trent’s hand rained down on your ass, slap after slap, again and again, leaving a symphony of slaps and marks that would remind you of his dominance. Finally once he felt it was sufficient he let a line of his spit fall onto your ass. He watched it run  down over your ass and into the folds of your pussy. His hands caressed the fat of your ass. 

"You've been a bad girl, teasing me," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Just gotta fuck it out of you now, yeah? Make you my good girl again." He cooed as he positioned himself behind you and began to tease you, dragging his leaking tip across the smooth skin of your ass before slipping it between your folds teasing your entrance. He slowly pushed his cock into your pussy without another word. You were completely drenched. You could feel yourself coat his length in your slick again and again as he drilled in and out of you. The recoil of your ass from his hard thrusts had Trent in pure heaven. God, it must’ve been a good 30 minutes of him just blowing your back out. 

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against your ass, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. “I’m gonna c-.”  you cried out, your body trembling.

“No!” He commanded and you whined as he pulled out, halting it all. “You’re gonna keep taking my cock.” He told you as he slid back in and so you did. You kept taking him  “That's it, baby," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he fucked you with abandon. "Take it, take all of me." You cried out as he slammed into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with every stroke, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm building, coiling tight in your core, every inch of your body alive with sensation.“ You’re mine, baby. Understand?” He said it was a seriousness and a harshness that made goosebumps arise on your skin. 

"I can’t… oh my fucking god. I'm gonna cum, T," you panted, your nails digging into the sheets as you fought for release. "I’m gonna cum, fuck– please." You whined. You moaned as your vision began to blur a little from how good it all felt.

"Not yet, baby," he growled, his voice rough. "You’re gonna keep taking me because I said so. You asked for this. I want you to feel me, feel every inch of me." He reached around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing and pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to pound into you. Your moans filled the room, a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

"Please, T, oh my god," you begged, your body on the brink. "I need to cum. Please."

"Not until I say so," he commanded, his voice harsh. "You don't get to come until I'm ready to fill you up with my cum." His words sent a shockwave of desire through you, and you surrendered to his control, your body his to command. “You continued throwing your ass back as he fucked you relentlessly, his cock driving into your pussy with brutal force, his fingers working your clit with expert precision. "That's it, baby, let me see how much you want it," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. "You're mine, every inch of you. I own this pussy. I get to decide when you cum.” After a few more strokes, that were gradually getting rougher you heard it, the command you’d be aching for. “Cum f’me baby. Cum now.” His words pushed you over the edge, and you exploded around him, your pussy clenching and milking his cock as you cried out his name. “Fuck, baby. Gonna cum, alright? Doing so good, baby.” He grunted as his thrusts became messy and unregulated before he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim.  his cock twitching and pulsing as he filled you with his hot release. You collapsed onto the bed, your body spent and satisfied. He gently pulled out of you but was quick to push his two fingers along with his leaking cum back inside you for a few moments longer. "You wanna cum again f’me, pretty girl?" He cooed.

“Oh fuck- oh my god.” You whined, body gone almost limp but craving more insatiably. His fingers easily sliding in and out of your pussy, finding that magical spot deep inside. He rubbed and pressed your clit as his fingers curled deeper from behind. You cried out, your body exploding in another mind-blowing orgasm. Trent smugly and quietly laughed not at you but just happy you were feeling so good. As your bodies calmed, Trent's softer side emerged as he gently rolled you onto your back, his eyes filled with love and adoration before he collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He kissed you tenderly, his hands stroking your hair, his touch now gentle and caring. He held you close, his strong arms offering comfort and protection. You could feel his heart pounding against you, and his breath was warm on your skin.

"My good girl," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Did so good f’me. You okay?”   You smiled, your heart full as you snuggled into his embrace, content in the afterglow of your passionate encounter. 

"I love being your good girl, T," you murmured, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. 

"You were more than that, baby. Honestly, that was fucking unreal," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I love making you feel good." You snuggled closer, your body still buzzing with pleasure. 

"That’s good because you make me feel amazing.” you tiredly giggled. “But…I do really like when you take control, baby," you confessed, your voice soft and sated. "It makes me feel so fucking… I don’t know wanted or something. I like knowing you want me like that.” You poorly explained in your post orgasmic haze. He chuckled, the sound low and warm. 

"I do want you, more than you know. And I promise, I'll always take care of you…. Especially after wanting you like that." He smirked. He gently caressed your hair, his touch tender and loving. "Let's clean you up, my pretty girl," he said, his voice filled with affection. He helped you into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of your passionate encounter. Trent's hands were gentle as he soaped your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through your tired limbs. You leaned into him, your body still limp from the intensity of your orgasms, but he held you close, his strong arms offering relentless support. There was a physical and emotional feeling of warmth with him. He just wanted to wrap around you and keep you with him all the time. He was completely consumed by the thought. Seeing you so fragile after sex just sent a feeling alight inside he didn’t quite no how to label. 

"You're so good to me, T," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. He’d always taken care of you but now it was different… so different, so intimate and you both were recognizing it. He kissed the top of your head, his lips soft against your hair. 

"I will always take care of you, baby. I always have, I always will." He cooed as the water washed away the sweat and passion of your lovemaking, Trent's gentle care and adoration filled the void, leaving you feeling cherished and adored. You knew in that moment that this was more than just physical attraction. It was a deep, profound connection, but one you craved beyond the boundaries of the bedroom. 

That next morning was a slow, honeyed glow, filtering through the curtains and casting a soft light over the room. The world felt paused, as if the universe had frozen to let you both linger in this quiet perfection a little longer. The warmth of Trent’s skin was the only anchor you needed, the steady beat of his heart a lullaby against your cheek as you lay entwined, tangled together under the weight of the blankets and something far deeper. He shifted slightly, his body moving with that half-conscious care to keep you close, and you felt his breath stir your hair, a sigh caught somewhere between sleep and waking. As he moved, you instinctively tightened your hold, pressing yourself closer, unwilling to let him slip even an inch away. 

“MmNmm,” you murmured, a soft, sleepy protest as you shook your head against his chest, feeling the rumble of his chuckle in response.

“Nah, course not,” he laughed at you, his voice still heavy with sleep, But he was only teasing, he was loving that you didn’t want him to move. He lent down, pressing his lips to the top of your head in a lingering kiss, his breath warm against your hair. His hand drifted down your back, tracing gentle patterns, like he was memorizing every inch of you. “My pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice a tender whisper, more to himself than to you, like he still couldn’t believe this was real. The sound of his words washed over you, filling you with a warmth that went beyond the touch of his skin. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he gazed down at you, his expression so soft and open, filled with a quiet awe that made your heart ache. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face with a gentle hand, his fingers lingering, tracing the curve of your cheek as if you were something precious, something fragile. “Nah you’re actually so gorgeous, baby,” he cooed, a little smile playing on his lips as his thumb brushed your cheek. He studied you, his eyes tracing every detail of your face as if he were afraid he’d wake up and find this had all been a dream. His other hand slipped around your waist, pulling you even closer, holding you like he’d never let you go.  You couldn’t help but sleepily smile, your own hands finding their way to his, fingers lacing together as you pulled his arm around you, tucking yourself against him. “Can’t believe I finally have you with me,” he whispered, almost like he was speaking to himself, his voice tinged with wonder and something deeper, something vulnerable. You didn’t need to say anything; words felt unnecessary in the soft, stolen space between you. Instead, you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips, letting the silence say everything that you couldn’t. 

“You feel like a dream sometimes.” After a while, you finally spoke up when something other than sheer bliss came into your head. His arms tightened around you, his thumb gently stroking your side, sending a shiver through you that made you feel acutely, blissfully alive. He tilted your chin up, his lips meeting yours in a soft, unhurried kiss, so full of affection it left you breathless. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand cupping your face as he held you there, his gaze deep and intent. 

“You’ve been my dream,” he murmured softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek. You felt his fingers run through your hair, tucking it behind your ear with the same careful attention, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued to trace slow circles on your back. He rested his forehead against yours, his breathing soft and steady, and for a moment, you both stayed there, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. The morning stretched on, time losing meaning as you lay there, cocooned in each other’s arms. The world outside could wait; for now, all that mattered was the quiet perfection of this moment, of being held, of being seen, of feeling his heart beat in time with yours. It was a feeling you wanted to hold on to forever, a softness that seemed to live only in the rare, untouched hours of early morning.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 8 - Caught in The Kitchen, Hidden in The Bathroom xx

[grogwrites]

Stranger - O.P. 81

Part Two

part one • part two • part three

Summary: When someone returns to Oscar’s life after years apart, he has a hard time finding common ground with her to reconcile the feud between them. That is, until she signs on as a driver for the upcoming F1 season. Then he can’t seem to get her out of his mind.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female OC

CW: Dual POV series, but part two is all in OC’s POV. Please take my warnings seriously before continuing on. This series is not for everyone, as consistent depictions of mental health struggles are conveyed in the writing, primarily PTSD and loss of a loved one. Part two contains swearing, a shit ton of angst, mentions and depictions of PTSD and suicide, suggestive content/brief making out, alcohol consumption, Lando is a bit of a twat in this series, manipulation from OC—OC is a very complex and very hurt character so a lot of her behavior in this part is, erm, not great lol

A/N: this is part two in my three part mini series! Again, I do not use YN on my page so OC is a named character 🩵

Word Count: 5.1k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

PRESENT DAY

She knew who he was. She had done some extensive research on the current grid, as well as the other rookies for next season so she knew what she was up against. This was how she’s always operated—this is how her dad taught her to compete. She clocked Lando’s weaknesses the second he began flirting with her. For starters, she knew he was self conscious. She had seen him speak out about it in his interviews, but when he began flashing this arrogant side of him, it was tell-tale that he was overcompensating for something that he was lacking in. His boat rocked on the water behind them, and her curiosity was piqued. As she perched her sepia-toned sunglasses on her head, she stared back at him intently.

“Lando Norris,” she smiled, playing in to his behavior. She made sure she raised her voice slightly, to hint at a flirtatious demeanor, “you’ve got a reputation, you know.” Lando smirked, folding his arms across his tan, toned chest. He was attractive, Claire could give him that much at least. He just wasn’t her type, unfortunately for him.

“Remind me again?” He responded with a scoff. He took a step closer to her, leaning in a bit.

“You sleep around,” Claire remarked. She tapped her finger against her chin, as if trying to remember the artificial list that she was referencing. “You don’t call back, you can’t be tied down…tell me why I should go with you?”

“Maybe I want you to be the one to change my reputation?” Lando lowered his voice. “Has anyone ever told you that pink looks really good on you?”

The laugh that escaped her mouth was accidental, but she could care less. This had to be a joke, she thought. He was too corny—too predictable. In a weird way, it was almost endearing how he thought he had her wrapped around his pathetic finger. He didn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I’m afraid I won’t meet your expectations,” she sighed as her laughter slowed. “I’m looking for commitment, Norris. Not a plaything.” She watched his cheeks slowly turn red when she referred to him as a ‘plaything’. He cleared his throat, then straightened his posture.

“One date,” Lando proposed, clearly feeling confident in his chances. “If you are still convinced I’m not serious, then you can block me and never call me back.”

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. She smirked, then placed her sunglasses back on the bridge of her nose. Both of them were playing a game, but she was going to win. Losing wasn’t in her book—not now, not ever.

“Fine,” Claire sighed. “But it has to be a real date.”

“Wonderful,” he mimicked her flirtatious drawl from a few moments ago. “What is your name, darling?” Already starting with the pet names? He had no idea who he was about to get involved with. She offered her hand to him innocently.

“I’m Claire Nguyen,” she introduced, keeping her tone playful and airy. Her friends snickered behind her, but they knew how she worked—they knew she was playing him. Still, the driver took her hand in his, then pressed his lips to her knuckles. He pulled away, meeting her gaze again.

“It’s a pleasure,” his smug look was devastating.

Maybe if Claire had met him in high school, he would’ve had her in the palm of his hands. But she was different, now. Her heart was hardened, and her guard was up. Her dad dying was the tip of the iceberg, and leaving Oscar sunk the ship completely. She didn’t care what bridges she had to burn to accomplish her goals in life, and she didn’t care who she hurt to get there—because life hurt her. Life killed her. Sometimes she worried that she was a sociopath, but her therapist reassured her multiple times that she was simply just traumatized. It made her laugh the first time she was diagnosed with PTSD, but now that word felt like a weakness to her: trauma. All she had in this world was herself, now that the Piastri’s were nonexistent.

Claire’s gaze flickered back to the boat, before she looked to Lando again.

“So, are you going to invite me on board,” she tightened the hold on his hand gently, “or are you going to keep gawking at me?”

“You’re quite cheeky, aren’t you?” Lando chuckled, but there was a nervousness to his presentation now. Her plan was already working. She smiled, then looked back over her shoulders at her friends, Edith and Stacy—two girls she met when moving here to Monaco.

“See you back at the apartment?” She asked. The two girls exchanged a mischievous glance, then nodded. She wiggled her fingers goodbye to them, before Lando tugged her forward. As they approached the boat, he let go of her hand briefly to climb on board. He offered his hands to her, but she pushed him out of her way, before gracefully climbing on behind him. His cheeks flushed.

“I can let myself onto a boat,” she clicked her tongue, then eyed him head to toe. “I’m not helpless, you know.” He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly became a sputtering mess. He removed the hat on his head, running a hand through his curls.

“Um, my friend is here, too,” he finally managed to choke out. Claire found it quite amusing how his ‘cool guy’ persona faded rather fast. She watched him hesitate before walking around the driver’s seat towards the cushioned chairs at the front of the boat. She took her time lingering behind him, when she saw a familiar head of blonde hair off to her left—lounging with his eyes closed. Her blood ran cold at the sight of him.

For a few seconds, it felt like everything stopped around her. He looked…different. A good different, but it made her doubt for a moment if that was actually him in front of her. But it was. She’d recognize the speckled moles and freckled face anywhere. She felt her cheeks burn at the sight of his bare chest, and silently thanked God that her sunglasses were tinted. She felt frozen in place—like she couldn’t move or else the world would collapse below her.

“Hey,” Lando’s voice brought her back into reality. He reached forward, shaking Oscar’s leg gently. She saw, now, his eyes opening and looking directly up at her. His face went pale. Lando was seemingly unaware of the situation that was playing out as he continued speaking, “Oscar this is Claire, Claire this is Oscar.”

She quickly flashed her best fake smile as she extended a hand towards him. Push it down, Claire, she reminded herself, push it down with the rest of your emotions. If she allowed herself to be distracted by Oscar, then she would get knocked off her game. He always did that to her. While she knew the weaknesses of all the other drivers, her own weakness was going to be her competition next season—her weakness was Oscar Piastri.

“Hello,” Claire stated plainly. “It’s great to meet you, Oscar.” She made sure to draw out his name only slightly, just so he knew exactly where he stood with her. He had no place in her life anymore, and she wasn’t about to let him crawl his way back in. Oscar hesitated before taking her hand in his. His touch alone could’ve made her knees buckle underneath of her. They’ve held hands on multiple occasions before this, but this felt different. This time, it felt like she was in second grade again, racing remote controlled cars with him in his living room.

“Good to meet you as well, Claire,” he grumbled. When his hand lingered in hers, she made sure she was the first to drop his. Oscar quickly turned his attention to Lando. “Can we get back out on the water, now? I was taking a nap.” Claire drew in a shaky deep breath, praying her nerves weren’t obvious.

“I like that idea,” she commented. “I’ll drive.” As she began walking back to the driver’s seat, Lando grabbed ahold of her waist to stop her.

“Nice try,” he hummed in her ear. She felt the heat of his chest against her back, and his fingertips squeezing her sides gently. She felt the anger in her stomach begin to boil. “Why don’t you let a Formula 1 driver handle that?”

Subconsciously, she dug her elbow into his gut. He retaliated, coughing as the air was briefly knocked out of him. How degrading for him to speak to her like that. Claire faced him, folding her arms. The look in his eyes almost mimicked a lovesick, teenage boy—they were laced with disbelief in what she had just done, and admiration that she had the balls to do it in the first place.

“Someone doesn’t do their research,” she retorted, placing her hand on his cheek. “Lucky for you, a Formula 1 driver will be handling that.” His eyes widened as the gears in his head seemed to begin turning, putting the pieces together.

“You’re a Formula 1 driver?” Oscar was the first to speak as he stood from his chair. Claire was quick to remove her hand from Lando’s face at the sight of her old friend—as if she didn’t want him to see what she was doing. It didn’t matter if he did, and she knew that. They were nothing to each other, but yet she still craved his approval just as much as she did twelve years ago.

“Alpine, next season,” she stated simply, keeping her expression deadpanned as she looked back at him. “They saw me racing at a gig in Seoul—said I had potential, and offered a contract.” Lando laughed in amusement, as if he couldn’t fall more in love with her than the poor thing already was. She could see Oscar’s jaw tighten at the mention that she never quit racing. There was a heavy, unspoken tension between the two of them, so she shifted her gaze back to Lando.

“God, you’re cool,” he swooned. “I mean, minus elbowing me a few seconds ago…”

“Watch where you place your hands next time,” she scolded, pointing her finger at Lando like she was lecturing a child. “And watch what kind of assumptions you make. I told you earlier, I’m not helpless. You don’t know a single thing about me, Norris.”

Claire thought for a moment that she heard Oscar laugh, but that would be impossible. There was too much hatred between the two of them for him to find anything she said amusing. But as she turned to walk to the driver’s seat, there was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

.

When the second bottle of wine was being thrown away, Claire knew she needed to cut herself off and go to sleep. She’d been sitting on her apartment balcony for almost four hours, just staring…watching. The busyness of Monaco had now quieted down to a soft hum of the night, with the occasional car passing by below on the street.

She had imagined her reunion with Oscar on several occasions, but none of them involved flirting with his teammate in front of him. She groaned to herself, burying her face in her hands as she leaned against the railing. Her Aunt Mae had told her multiple times that the world would work to bring them back together. Mae was adamant about the idea of karma, but Claire wasn’t too sure. Really, she stopped believing in a lot of things after her dad died. Oscar never stopped believing in her, though. Except, maybe now was different. He looked through her today like she was a ghost of some kind.

There was a light knock on her door, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed before grabbing ahold of her wine glass and standing. She tightened the robe around her as she walked inside. When she got to the door, she glanced through the peephole. Lando. Claire took a deep breath before finishing off her drink. She continued to hold her robe closed as she opened the door. The Brit smiled sheepishly back at her, as though he was entertained that she answered. He wore some grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt that fit snug against his torso. She leaned against the doorframe, humming lightly.

“Hello,” he finally spoke. “Um, sorry for just stopping by like this. When I dropped you off earlier, I didn’t realize we lived in the same complex.” Claire was really too tipsy and too sad to try and maintain the composure that she held at the beach earlier. So instead, she settled with a smile.

“Don’t apologize,” she replied softly. “I don’t mind. What can I do for you?” Lando stuffed his hands into his pockets, as the corners of his mouth twitched slightly while he gathered his thoughts.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior today,” he explained slowly. Her eyes widened, not expecting this from him. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought. “I just, um, haven’t had a serious relationship in a while. Sometimes I get ahead of myself.” Claire wasn’t entirely sure what to do or to say. She hesitated as she eventually stepped off to the side, silently inviting him in to her home.

She watched him closely as he walked inside. She shut the door behind him, as his gaze flickered around her living room. Claire kept things minimalistic, mostly because she couldn’t bother herself to turn anything into a home. She didn’t belong anywhere, and it had been that way since she left Melbourne. She often felt like a stray cat, just bouncing between homes—desperate for shelter, and barely staying alive. If she put decorations up anywhere, then it meant she was tied to that place. She couldn’t be tied down anywhere unless it was back in Melbourne, but she hadn’t healed enough to bring herself back there yet.

“I’m sorry for elbowing you,” she found herself admitting, even though she wasn’t that sorry. Her dad’s voice seemed to haunt her, though, any time she let her emotions get the best of her. It happened when she first met Oscar, too. She almost laughed at the thought, but she pushed it down just as she did with everything else. Lando turned to look at her, when he offered her a comforting smile. She felt her heart stutter, but it could’ve just been the wine.

“I deserved it,” he shrugged, making his way back towards her. “You do intimidate me, though.” She pressed her lips into a thin, tight line as she fought off a smile. She didn’t want to give him the justification, even if his comment was a bit funny.

“I get that a lot,” Claire confessed as she broke off to her right, towards the kitchen. Lando trailed behind. “My dad put me through anger management when I was in second grade. I just feel things very passionately. There isn’t any in-between for me.” She looked over to him again as she set her glass by the sink. She leaned against the counter as he stayed back, observing her.

“Do you, um, already know Oscar?” He asked quietly, as if he were treading on thin ice. He was unsure of the territory he had wandered in, and she saw it reflected in his eyes: careful, cautious…on edge; she was predator, and he was prey.

It was a loaded question that Claire didn’t know how to answer. She used to know Oscar, but now he was as much of a stranger to her as Lando was. She knew he had an entirely new life, but she refused to research him as intently as the other drivers. It just wasn’t something she wanted to venture into. She knew deep down that if she were to see what kind of life he was living without her in it, it would kill her.

“No,” she lied, shaking her head. “He just looked like somebody I used to know, is all.” Lando took a few steps closer. The silence was deafening in her apartment—nothing but the soft buzz of the streetlights outside.

The unfortunate thing for Claire, was that wine brought her guard down. Even though she wasn’t fully drunk yet, she could feel it slowly begin to trickle through her bloodstream. As Lando stood close to her, she felt her cheeks warm. No matter how flustered he was making her right now, he still wasn’t her type. He still wasn’t Oscar. The thought rang through her brain, pathetically reminding her of her long-time infatuation with him. Her heart ached slightly, while she turned her attention to her feet—away from Lando’s gaze.

“Claire?”

She knew seeing Oscar again—regardless of when or where or why or how it happened—would destroy her. He probably didn’t care, which pained her even more. The fact that he still held so much influence over her thoughts was comical. She wanted desperately to move on from him; she needed to force herself to move on.

Claire looked over to the boy next to her, whose eyes were laced with worry. He could tell something was wrong, but he wouldn’t ask. He didn’t think he could, and she preferred that he didn’t. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the reckless decision she was about to make. If she wanted to move on, then there was an opportunity standing just a few inches away from her.

She grabbed a fistful of Lando’s shirt, then pulled him down. She kissed him feverishly, and he wasted no time kissing her back. She could smell his soap still lingering on him—pine and eucalyptus. He brought one hand behind her neck, pulling her closer to him. Her mouth parted momentarily for a breath, when she felt Lando’s tongue lick her bottom lip. He moved his mouth against hers desperately, pleadingly. It was obvious between the two of them that this was nothing more than surface-level kissing. That was all she needed from him was a distraction, and he was happy to give it to her.

.

Seeing Lando became a regular occurrence for Claire, though they kept it as lowkey as they were able to—no idle chatter, no small talk. Just sex, nothing more. It wasn’t until she went over to his apartment one evening, and Oscar was the one who opened the door. Neither of them said anything, they just stared. Oscar glanced over his shoulder into his friend’s apartment before stepping into the hall with her, closing the door behind him. A few more seconds of silence passed between them, before he finally spoke.

“You’re racing again.”

A simple sentence that felt like a slap across the face. She wasn’t sure what to say in response to that, primarily because she was scared. She couldn’t tell if him making conversation was an olive branch, or pouring more salt into the wound. His tone was unwavering, making it hard to decipher his intentions.

“I never stopped,” Claire finally muttered. Oscar leaned against the door behind him. He was wearing a pair of black exercise shorts, accompanied by a matte black McLaren team shirt. She hated how good he looked—how nice the years have been to him. The silence met them again, but this time it was heavy with uncertainty. Neither one was sure where they stood with the other. It was maddening.

“Now, you’re sleeping with Lando,” he observed. She felt her stomach bubble with the same familiar anger she often felt. He had no right to judge her for this. “That’s a dangerous combination.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Osc…ar?” She was quick to correct her old habit of calling him by his nickname. She kicked herself mentally for the muscle memory. He smiled slightly, which only made the situation worse. “Oscar. I meant Oscar.” He raised his eyebrows slightly before sticking his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“You’re…” he trailed off at first. He licked his lips before finding his voice again, “you’re like fire and ice. You just don’t go together. You both deal so much damage individually, but together…I dunno.” He shrugged lightly. Claire rolled her eyes.

“In case you’ve forgotten, you don’t get to give me advice anymore,” she took a few steps closer to him. She tried to maintain her cool, but she felt like there was a storm inside of her right now. Being so close to him, she was hit with the smell of his old cologne: sandalwood, vanilla, home. It almost made her cry, as the feeling of nostalgia was quick to wash over her. “You have no influence over me.”

The second she said it, she knew he saw right through the lie. He only knew it was a lie, because he felt the same way. Thankfully for her, Oscar didn’t push the matter further. Instead, he opened the door to Lando’s apartment once more.

“It’s always good to see you, Bear,” he mumbled so softly that she almost missed it. He stared at her for a few seconds longer, then disappeared inside.

.

The bass that echoed over the club’s stereo pulsed through the building. Claire, Edith, and Stacy each sat at the bar, observing the crowd before them. Edith and Stacy were the closest thing to best friends that Claire had in her life anymore, but even then, it didn’t feel like she held a very deep connection with them. Any relationship she maintained after Oscar was surface level—she couldn’t keep people as close to her as he used to be. Maybe it was because somewhere deep in her heart, that was still reserved for him and him alone.

Still, the company the girls provided was nice. When Claire made the decision to use her inheritance to move to Monaco, she joined a women’s racing league. Edith and Stacy didn’t race, but they volunteered for the league from time to time. Their worlds collided when Claire punched some douchebag who had Edith cornered at the very bar they were in now. Even if they only kept her around for some form of security, she felt like with them, she could at least pretend her life was semi-normal.

“Soooo,” Stacy sang before taking a drink from whatever combination she decided upon for the night, “what’s up with Lando?”

“Nothing,” Claire told her factually. “Absolutely nothing. It’s nice, really. I don’t think being tied down right now is what’s best for me.” That last part was a lie. Partially, anyways.

“He’s, like, so hot,” Edith chimed in. “What’s going to happen next season, do you think?” Claire couldn’t help but scoff. She took a long drink from the vodka cranberry in her hands before she responded.

“I’m going to win,” it was a simple statement that she believed fully in her heart. “Alpine has some new sponsors. The car is going to be good—not great, really, but better than it has been. I plan to drive that shitbox to its grave.”

Her two friends began chatting about their predictions for the next season, as Claire grew bored. She turned her back to the bar, allowing herself a better view of the crowd dancing behind them. There were a few faces she recognized of other drivers that lived here. A bit strange that so many of them were here tonight, but she supposed it wasn’t totally out of the ordinary. Their summer break didn’t end until next week, so she figured a good lot of them hadn’t left yet for their other commitments.

Then, her eyes landed on Oscar, who was currently staring back at her. This seemed to be their luck of the draw—finding each other when they had no intention or desire of doing so. Even when they first met, they kept finding each other: the race tracks, Christmas at the Piastri’s, Oscar’s first break up, Claire’s first school dance…he was always there.

Her chest felt tight. If she kept meeting him like this, she knew it would more than likely send her into cardiac arrest. She took control of the current situation as she grabbed her drink, and excused herself from her friends. She could see it in his eyes that he thought she’d be coming over to him when she began walking, but instead, she turned left and made her way out of the exit that lead to the back alley of the bar.

When the door closed behind her, she pressed her back to the cold, brick exterior of the building. As she slid down to sit on the ground, she felt tears in the corners of her eyes. Hugging her knees to her chest, she pressed her forehead to them and cried. The emotions from the past few weeks had caught up to her, and she felt like she was drowning. There was a fog in her brain since seeing Oscar again, and she was unaware how much it was really affecting her until now. She didn’t remember hearing the door open beside her, until he sat next to her.

It was like some sick and twisted déjà vu. The last time they sat like this was at the funeral. Claire couldn’t decide how to react right now. Did she scream at him? Was she supposed to just walk away, and keep avoiding him? She heard him sniff quietly, and she knew he was crying, too. So they sat there in their respective silences, each crying and working through the unspoken, unresolved questions that lingered between them. After a few minutes, Oscar’s voice broke through the surface.

“No one stayed in that room after you left,” his voice was hoarse. “Mom wouldn’t even use it for storage. It’s been untouched since…” he trailed off, but Claire didn’t need him to finish. She knew what he was insinuating: the Piastri’s never moved on.

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Not yet, anyways. She didn’t have the words right now to properly communicate how she felt, because she felt so many things all at once. Hurt, anger, disappointment, heart break, love…so much love. But it was the type of yearning that often did more harm than good—the type that got Romeo killed. The type that got Gatsby shot. The type that left the other half broken, and the other half dead. Claire felt dead. She had been dead inside for so long now. How was one supposed to convey such complex feelings into words?

“She still asks about you,” Oscar continued, laughing pathetically—like the absurdity of it all was comical. It was, though. It almost made Claire relieved to know that Nicole still thought they were friends in some capacity; it meant Oscar never told her the truth. “She, um, has been collecting these little gifts for you in case you ever made it back to Australia—“

“Please,” Claire finally choked out through the tears, “I can’t hear anymore, Oscar. It hurts too much.”

He went quiet, obeying her request at first. She knew it hurt him too, but he wanted so desperately to make her feel better. Oscar Piastri: always selfless, always caring, always thinking of others. This time, however, he had no intentions of letting things go unspoken. He couldn’t take another three years without the closure, and neither could she.

“I missed you,” the words left his mouth before he could think. Claire could tell, because he came to a stuttering stop. He wasn’t usually a confrontational person, so the fact he kept talking in general surprised her. “I thought about you every day for a year. I watched you post things online, acting like I never even existed.”

Claire let him talk. She sat next to him listening, as the tears continued to fall down her cheeks. She knew he needed this as much as she did—he just had the words to say right now. She didn’t. Not yet.

“When you stopped returning my calls, it felt like another person I loved was gone,” his voice was now strained as he stopped holding back his own tears. “I was worried about you. I thought that maybe your mental health had caught up to you. You stopped posting, you stopped going online. I had to force myself to forget about you so I couldn’t face the truth that I had created.”

He thought she died. She didn’t need for him to explicitly say the words to understand what he was talking about. His concerns were valid, too. He always looked out for her when she got too deep into her own thoughts. So when he couldn’t do that anymore, he assumed the worst.

“I pushed everyone away,” Claire finally spoke. Her words were slow, calculated. She didn’t want to say anything that might ruin the civility they had right now. “I didn’t think I belonged anywhere when I had to go back to Seoul. I didn’t even want to go to Seoul.”

Her words carried weight with Oscar. She never really spoke to him about her feelings on moving in with her aunt—the only time they ever addressed her leaving was the night he won the F2 championship title. Her demeanor towards it all that night told him that she didn’t care, but she did. God, she cared so much. She spent several weeks leading up to her departure arguing with her aunt about staying in Melbourne, but her dad’s will passed her on to Mae. By the time Claire was legally able to leave on her own accord, they weren’t friends anymore.

“I fought tooth and nail to stay with you,” she continued, finally gaining the courage to look at him. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, but her’s were probably not any better. “When it was unavoidable, I just…pushed everyone away. It already felt like everything I loved was taken from me; pushing people away was easier to deal with it all.”

Oscar couldn’t take it anymore. He brought her into an embrace so quickly that she couldn’t process it at first. After a few moments, she returned the hug, wrapping her arms around him in return. They sat like that for what felt like hours, but neither of them cared. By the time they eventually left, no other word was muttered between them. There was so much more that the other could say, but for now they were content. For now, it felt like maybe—just maybe—they would be okay.

.

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

Taglist:

@leclercdream

[chimivx]

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part two} 5.6k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; hi, i am posting & feeling shy. please enjoy. <3 dusting off my fingers for this one, i am still not feeling 100%, thank you everyone for your kind words & messages. peese n lurv. <3

Weeks ago your brother decided this Mingyu thing was good, but only in theory. Parading around with him, hanging out with him, going to bars with him, hooking up with him… All of it actually happening, not good.

DK would prefer you to have these rendezvous with someone who didn’t try to drink his body weight in liquor each time the first can hit his hand, but alas, you were brought home safe every time, so who was he to complain or pick and choose who you can and can’t hang out with.

After their first few seasons together it was clear the two had different outlooks on life, neither of them really in the wrong with how they chose to go about their time, but they didn’t match. They clashed. Your brother, after spending time educating himself on his fathers history and evidently learning that baseball wasn’t the only thing he played, he took a different approach to dating, to women. He was a proper gentleman, DK was, never using his status to acquire a girlfriend with status or money or a title, he searched for love.

A star studded, best pitcher in baseball shouldn’t have had his heart broken as many times as his had been, he should’ve been the one breaking hearts. The girls wanted his money, and they only liked him because he played baseball. His status, his money, his title. All the things he didn’t necessarily want, but had been blessed with. 

He was a good man, and he was always right, but you’d never admit that to his face. Especially after that night, after a weekend of staying at Mingyu’s. DK had sat you down, he spoke for many minutes, many dragging minutes, a monologue full of ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to do something else?’ and ‘Have your friends from Nasara come out to stay with us sometime, maybe you all can spend time in the city together.’ He never said the words, “Don’t date Mingyu,” but you know he despised the idea.

Deep down you despised it too. 

The hunk of golden muscle with a voice so pretty and persuading, he wanted to be your boyfriend. Mingyu’s asked a few times before, letting it become your decision, always telling you he’d wait for you, and that you were his no matter what, that he was here for you, he wanted to take care of you, he wanted to love you. He’d keep his word, you knew he would. It was Mingyu, he kept his promises, he spoke with utmost intent, he didn’t say shit just to say it, nor was he using it to coerce you into his sheets. That you did on your own.

His curly hair, his sappy brown eyes, you’d drown it in, in him, suffocate yourself with Mingyu, all of him until the guilt wallowing in your gut was gone. With each passing day it grew smaller. After each night with Mingyu it was easier to deal with. Like last night, like this entire trip would be.

Arriving in Haos, in the warm air that breezed over your skin like a dream when you stepped out of the airport hand in hand with Mingyu sending cameras flashing away, you finally felt like you could breathe. Away from Iloa, away from the restraints the city put on you, really your brother, this trip felt like freedom. Haos has always been a place you’ve thrived since you were a little girl, traveling back and forth on a jet with your parents and DK, vacationing for months throughout the summer, laying on these beaches until your skin couldn’t take it any longer. The air was different here, it excited you.

It invited you to dance in it, to get lost in it like you did Mingyu.

And that’s just what you did.

Waking up to sunshine peeking through the heavy grey curtains of the hotel room, washing over you where you laid in the king sized bed buried in white sheets and blankets, you didn’t even want to open your eyes. Pressing your hands to your forehead first, rolling onto your back, the ache squeezing your brain threatened your stomach, but you wouldn’t allow it to go any further. Taking a slow, calculated deep breath you lay your arms beside you and stretch, your limbs barely reaching the edges of the mattress. Muscles sore, body tired, you blinked open your eyes and scolded the light with a groan.

Moving beneath the covers, the soft sheets caressing your bare skin, you tugged them off and took your time sitting up. The weight in your head shifted, almost sending you forward. Clamping your hands to your knees, still blinking fervently in the bright sunshine, you find clothes scattered about the floor, your bell bottom jeans inside out and slung over a dresser across the room from you.

You weren’t sure whose room you were in, but the denim jacket, Nike luggage, and custom sneakers let you know where you were. Dragging a hand through your hair, the blow dry still bouncing even though your jaw ached, you took another breath and made your way out of his bed.

These headlines were gonna be good.

You scrolled, and scrolled. Instagram, Twitter, all the accounts that reported on you, that reported on Mingyu, you scrolled, and you read. Wandering out of bed, you scrolled, sitting on the toilet, you scrolled, brushing your teeth, you scrolled. The photos were cute, Mingyu’s arm either around your back or shoulders, unless his hand was wrapped around your neck or squeezing your ass. More often than not your lips were locked, the two of you ‘unable to get enough’ as one drama influencer said on her story.

You’ve been here one night and have already achieved what you came here to do.

There was a certain rush accompanied by seeing your name in posts, in headlines, coming out of peoples mouths. Everyone had their thing, everyone in your life, they had their thing. This was yours, and people were catching on. After each blow up of news, of rumors, of new photos, your follower count grew.

But where there were fun people talking about you, doing their makeup in their ‘Get Ready With Me and Chit Chat About Moon Isla…’ videos and TikToks, there were the assholes, mostly men, who spewed their worthless thoughts. That’s what DK would say. Mingyu had started saying it too, that those kinds of people had nothing better to do with their lives.

It didn’t mean their words didn’t hurt.

“I mean, she’s sloppy, she’s drinking all the time, and he’s there to carry her around,” a man with a microphone in his face and big headphones on around his head spoke from your phone. Dressed now, having read an article that informed you that you bought the entire bar shots of tequila, you attempted to liven up your face in the mirror that stretched across the bathroom wall. “His team is in Haos to train. To practice. To begin their season to take back their trophy, and this bitch is with them, dragging Kim all along Festa Street.” Slicking clear gloss over your lips, you narrowed your eyes and glared at the man on the screen.

Fair skinned, bald, with a bush on his face and all around his jaw. He had that nagging sort of voice, one that tugged on your eardrums and stabbed them thousands and thousands of times with tiny needles filling you with rage.

“Photos came out right away when the team got there, you know,” the man said, and his partner, another bald man with a Lions hat on, hummed in agreement. “Not a smile on his face. Sunglasses on, gear on his back, his hat tugged over his forehead. Now what do you think that means?”

“He’s hungover,” the partner said. The man threw his hands out to the side and cackled.

“Thank you, he’s hungover, and he has to play today.” You scoffed and snatched your phone off the counter. “They’re lucky the new first-”

“Shut up,” you groaned, swiping away to another video. A girl with long, waist length braids in her hair, each one entwined with a fun color was smiling to the camera.

“Guys,” she finally whispered after a second of staring. A giggle corrupted her, sending her face down into her pillows. The camera shook, then she picked her head back up and widened her eyes for a few seconds. “How do I become her?” She slapped a hand over her mouth, then giggled maniacally again. “How do I- Wait, hang on.” 

The camera cut and a picture showed up behind her. Your cheeks warmed. Mingyu had you pressed to a pillar in one of the bars you were in, the name unknown to you. His hands were in the back pockets of your jeans and his forehead was pressed to yours. The way he smiled down at you, god. The picture was a little blurry, a little grainy, but damn. He wasn’t looking at you like you were his dinner. Hearts engulfed his irises.

“Guys?!” The girl shrieked and you jumped, forgetting she was here. “Kim Mingyu, save me! Look at this, do you see this, are we all okay after this…” She rambled more nonsense, and you’re certain the thousands of comments were agreeing with her. On every video of girls like this the comments were full of more girls saying the same exact thing.

You dared, and you clicked.

‘how does she not die when he looks like that’

‘LORD WHEN IS IT MY TURRRRRRN’

‘Shes so lucky waht the actual fuck guys its not fair.’

‘how are they NOT DATING’

How are they not dating? How are you not dating Mingyu? How could you look at a photo like this one, all of it screaming that he loved you, how could you see this, witness this, live this, and not date him? Not want to date him?

Locking your phone, tossing it to the counter, you returned to your makeup and put on fresh mascara, not that anyone was going to see it.

Venturing out into the room, side stepping articles of clothing, you pulled on one of Mingyu's grey Lions tee’s and wiggled back into the jeans you wore last night. Your luggage was elsewhere. DK would tell you where it ended up, he’d tell you where you were staying. You haven’t seen him since you left the airport, you were not looking forward to the lecture you’d get when you met him at the field.

Sliding thick black sunglasses onto your nose, making sure your hair framed your face, you spritzed some of Mingyu’s cologne onto your neck, dropped your things into your little purse, slid into your shoes, and left his room behind.

The team was gone, they’d been out on the field for two hours already. Nearing eleven o’clock you weren’t sure who else would be left behind here at the hotel, hopefully someone you’d catch a ride with, but to your demise as you wandered the halls and rode the elevator down to the lobby, your least favorite people were here.

The WAGs.

A piercing cry echoed through the air and the glass ceiling of the lobby.

The WAGs and their children.

To the right of the main lobby, the carpeted area where large leather couches and a fireplace lived, fabulous heads of hair sat around or stood with their babies in their arms. Tight jeans, fun Lions themed jackets, the whole thing screamed WAGs and it made you want to gag. 

Then you remembered what shirt you put on and kept your thoughts to yourself.

Already regretting approaching them, you took yourself toward the couches and attempted to smile at them. In an instant their chatter quieted, their attention turned to you, and they broke out in cheesy greetings. There were only a few faces you recognized.

Seungcheols wife, Talia, who was very pregnant, had their son Tao on her hip where she stood in front of the couches. Luscious blonde hair flowing toward her waist, her full face of makeup smiled back at you. She was one of the few you actually trusted. Gesturing toward her knee high wedged boots, you shot her a thumbs up. From what you know she was weeks from popping out kid number two, so how she was walking around in those boots, props to her.

On the couch directly in front of you rocking her crying baby sat Daya, a brunette with macchiato colored skin married to the Lions second basemen, Soonyoung, or Hoshi, as the city of Iloa called him. They haven’t been married long, but their baby girl, Tora, was six months old. Hoshi was one of the reasons the team started to crumble last season. Between Daya and his new daughter, the family fought the narrative the entire off season. 

Daya sat beside Halle, a woman with curly black hair hanging at her shoulders and the smoothest dark chocolate complexion. She bounced a baby in her arms, her and her husband, Minghao, their eight month old, Sunday. Another daughter born into the Lions family, one toward the beginning of the season, the family just missing the reason for crumble rumors.

The two were best friends, Daya and Halle, just as were Hoshi and Minghao. With their chins turned up at you and their seemingly judging eyes studying what you wore and how you wore it, they smiled and shared a look.

“Isla you’re so fun,” Talia said with a shake of her head. 

Daya laughed under her breath. “She’ll be one of us soon,” she grumbled, and Halle laughed with her.

“Leave the girl be,” Jihyo spoke up as she passed by the couches, wandering behind her and Junhui’s four year old son, Jisoo. Jun belonged to the Lions long before DK had ever been traded, he was a veteran in Iloa. He and his wife, a couple of high school sweethearts, welcomed you back time and time again, treating you no differently, as if no time had ever passed. Just seeing her face was relief enough.

“Hey,” you half whispered, reaching out for her. She took your hand and squeezed it, the smile lines on her cheeks accenting her stunning smile. Talia watched your hands meet, then watched the interaction, adjusting her baby on her hip. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Jihyo tossed her dark brown hair over the shoulder of her leather jacket. “It’s so much nicer seeing you. Don’t let these girls be mean to you,” she shot Daye and Halle a glare and the two turned toward one another, “She’s a baby, she’s not having any anytime soon.” Smiling back at you, she squeezed your hand once more before returning to her motherly duties. “You came down just in time, they’re picking us up any minute now.”

“How are things with Mingyu?” Daya asked, giving you another once over. “You guys conjure quite the crowd.” You didn’t like the way her eyes felt.

Shrugging, you pursed your lips and said, “Things are great. Why?”

She and Halle spoke to one another again with their eyes, then Minghao’s wife looked up at you. “Why aren’t things official, Isla?” 

Because if things become official then you end up on the couch here with these women and their babies, maybe even with a few of your own. You become a WAG, your entire identity succumbed down into just being someone's wife, someone's mother. You’d be an extension of him, of Mingyu, it’s what he wanted you to be even if he’s never explicitly said it.

But, he has.

You’re his. You’re his whether the label is there or not.

The label.

More of their questions bounced back and forth between them. ‘Has he not asked?’ ‘You have to do something, Isla, you can’t just be his pet.’ ‘I mean, what does it look like, you traveling with him to do what, party and sleep together?’ ‘We’ve seen the photos, everyone has, you guys have something-’

“It is official,” you said with a sureness that shut them up.

The words were set in stone before you had a chance to take them back. The chatter of the wives and girlfriends in the lobby filled the air and did nothing to ease the anxiety around the next news story you just created for yourself. For Mingyu. For your brother.

Exactly what he didn’t want.

Taking a deep breath, you thought to yourself, oh well.

You’d be a different type of WAG, you’d change what it meant. You would not end up here wedged between Daya and Halle, two women unable to calm their fussy babies.

Halle smirked, shaking her curls a bit. “What do you mean it is?”

Narrowing your eyes that she couldn’t see at her, you tilted your head. “He’s my boyfriend. I’m his girlfriend. How much more official can it get? You want proof? Wanna see the pictures he took of us while he was in me last night?”

Daya threw her head backward with a holler of a laugh. Halle’s own jaw fell open, a scoff falling from it. Talia, eyes analyzing still, she started to smile. 

“No, you keep those to yourself,” Halle said.

Daya chimed in, “If you have any of just Mingyu let us know, though.”

Your heart would’ve shot out your chest if you weren’t so hungover. “I would,” you sighed, then started toward the doors of the hotel, “But, he’s mine!”

First one to get to the cars, recognizing your brother's driver, you beelined for the SUV and demanded he pull away and get you to the stadium before any other women could try to get into the car with you. Barely five minutes away from the hotel and twenty from the stadium, your phone buzzed from your purse, and then it buzzed again, and again. Pulling it out you sighed at the notifications polluting your screen, but weren’t surprised in the slightest.

Someone got their check.

‘BREAKING NEWS: The Lions Princess confirms her relationship with…’

It was too long to read across the screen.

‘Moon Isla and Kim Mingyu CONFIRMED!’

‘IT’S OFFICIAL!’

No matter who it was, no matter who sold the story or leaked it, you didn’t have time to feel bad for them, nor yourself. You were well off and doing better for yourself without the need to leak info to the press for a paycheck. You have a DK, and now you have a boyfriend, who doesn’t know he’s your boyfriend yet, but is about to find out he is your boyfriend and probably already did. 

Now you had to tell him in person.

And you had to swear to yourself that you were not going to become one of the WAGs.

As easy as it would be to just hand your whole life over to somebody, to follow them around, to have them take care of you for as long as they saw fit… It wasn’t you.

And it wasn’t going to be you.

The stadium in Haos couldn’t compare to the one in Iloa. Smaller, less sparkly and flashy, positioned directly in the sun, this stadium was lucky the Lions continued to come here to train for a month and a half. The tickets they sold within February and March were probably enough to fund the rest of the year for this company. 

To the Lions it was home away from home. A field to play on, a place to stay. Players like your brother saw it that way, he and a few others like Junhui, they had an appreciation for it. As long as they were throwing a baseball, running the bases, rolling in the grass, they were happy. You had few memories of this place, one of them being finally kissing Mingyu for the first time when you were eighteen and in Haos with your family for a weekend to watch the Lions play a series here. It was something short and sweet but all the more delicious. 

It was sneaky, in a hallway away from celebrations and cameras. The two of you had spent nearly the entire weekend together, talking, re-getting to know one another like most of the time like this was spent. He only kissed you after a dinner with the team, after a few drinks downed by the both of you, his liquid courage hands dancing along your neck gently before they took your cheeks and pulled you into him.

You started at Nasara that fall, though you longed to go back to that weekend every damn day of that grueling first semester. With little to no contact between you and Mingyu, it was easy to slip away from him, and you did so without even realizing it. There came a point in time where he wasn’t even a second thought, a side thought, a thought way in the back of your brain, he was just… gone.

Coming here, spending time at the stadium with the team you hoped that feeling would come back. That first feeling. The way nerves below your skin buzzed as he touched you, as he smiled at you and tipped his chin closer, whispering to you how he hopes no one turns the corner. His soft lips, his strong hands, his chiseled body you simply melted into… Everything about it screamed perfect.

Strutting over the concrete, a coffee acquired in your hand, sun blazing on your back, coaches, security, and other WAGs standing around eyeing you or trying to say hello, you ignored them and kept your head on straight, knowing he was at the end of this pathway. The stands of seats towered over your head, casting shadows onto the pavement, leading you toward the fence you so easily walked around with no one to stop you. Your feet quieted as the grass began, shade covering the green so lush you almost felt bad you were flattening it beneath your shoes.

The boys weren’t actively playing at the moment, the most activity happening that you could see was that of your brother and the Lions catcher Jihoon, or Woozi, stretching in the outfield together in their sponsored Under Armour get ups. Everyone else was wandering the dirt, chatting it up along the dugout, or checking out their gear. Few players stood in their positions from what you could see, everyone's backs to you as you approached the third base line.

“Isla!” His voice brought an instant smile to your face. He was heard before he was seen, scanning the different figures around you, you finally found him hurrying toward you, a big, goofy smile on his cheeks. Completely different than how those men on that podcast were describing him. 

A little bit sweaty, Mingyu wore a cut off Lions tank and matching black shorts, swapping his custom sneakers for a pair of old cleats that supposedly brought him luck while they trained. It wasn’t Spring Training if he didn’t have them on, no one would catch him jinxing the season before it even started. Some of his curls clung to his forehead, his skin aglow beneath the beating Haos sun.

“Change your mind, or something?” The way he scrunched his nose made you giggle. “Heard we’re dating now?” He made it in front of you finally, resting his hands on his hips as he caught his breath.

Pressing your lips together in a silly smile, you shrugged your shoulders and rocked on your feet. “Maybe we are.” He couldn’t tame his happiness, you were certain his cheeks would break. “Sucks I couldn’t have told you first, who’d you hear it from?”

“Hoshi.” He cocked his head backward toward the dugout. Peeking around his large frame you found the two best friends side by side leaning over the fence with their chins resting on their arms looking straight toward you and Mingyu. Hoshi, hair bleached into oblivion, and Minghao, shaggy black hair hanging down his neck. Both boys wore backwards baseball caps. “After he told me I checked to see if you said anything to me, but you didn’t.”

A pout graced your lips. “I wanted to come here and tell you, I’m sorry.”

He moved quickly, reaching out to take you by your shoulders. “No, please, don’t apologize, holy shit, Isla. If anything I’m sorry, it sucks that we can’t say anything without someone taking it and plastering it to the internet.” His thumbs drew circles over the fabric of his own t-shirt. “This mine?” He snickered.

“Yeah,” you sang, “I was in your room, Gyu. My suitcases are MIA.”

“They’re in your room,” he said as if he knew where it was.

You scoffed. “And you didn’t think to tell me where that was so I could-”

“On the other side of the hotel in one of the towers across the property by your brother.” It was all he had to say to have you both deadpanning in seconds. “Like, a mile apart.”

Laughing within a breath you leaned into him and slid an arm around his back. “Oh, agony,” you drug out, tipping your chin backward. “A mile, how ever are we going to do it?” It was too easy to make him laugh.

“DK did it on purpose,” he said quietly, bobbing his head, taking his arms around your back. “He thinks we don’t know what he does and why he does it but, it’s so obvious.” Sipping your coffee, you looked up at him and waited for more. “Does he know you were gonna do this? Today?”

Toying with the hem of his shirt you took a breath. “No, but I can tell you he definitely already knows, news travels fast around here.” The two of you spare your brother a glance, one he was returning. You’ve never seen DK mad, but you do know when his eyes have fallen upon something he doesn’t like.

“You’ll talk him down,” Mingyu nodded, gazing back down at you. “You always do, you have the magic.” 

Blinking, you turned your chin back up to him. “You could talk to him too, yanno.”

He made a face, baring his teeth, cringing. “Ah, you know how I feel about that.”

“It could potentially turn this whole thing around if you do, Gyu,” you muttered, defeat beginning to pool within you. “You want me, you gotta talk to him about it.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he reached for your coffee cup. “I have you. Watcha got in here?” He took a swing before you could answer him, his reaction making you laugh amongst the karma.

“Black coffee,” you droned, taking the white cup back. “And sugar, because someone made me do tequila shots all night.”

Snickering, he dropped down to press a kiss to your lips, one long and slow, as if he was putting the period on the It’s Official statement. Pulling back just slightly, Mingyu mumbled, “Why don’t you substitute that sugar for vodka so we can keep going tonight?”

“Aye, Kim!” A coach called out for him, the team heading back out onto the field.

Whirling around, pulling you into his side, Mingyu waves off the batting coach and ushers you into the dugout making sure you were along the fence with a good spot to watch him hit. Along the way he whispered nonsense to you, telling you what bars you should explore tonight, where you needed to go, what food you should try, but more importantly what drinks you could get and where.

“You’re gonna kill me, Gyu,” you whispered to him after he kissed you one last time. Laughing aloud, head thrown back with vigor, he took to home plate and his persona shifted. Gone was Gyu, out came Kim Mingyu, the Lions right fielder.

Sipping from your coffee, allowing it to ease the ache in your forehead and the unease in your gut, you stood up and wandered the empty dugout. Names were written on everything, the shirts, the bats, the gloves, the mits, it was adorable, it felt like when you’d watch your brother in little league and your father etched his name into everything he owned. Dragging your feet along the ground, dirt and pebbles scraping against the concrete beneath your shoes, you took a deep breath in through your nose and let the fresh air relax you.

Maybe this was a good thing.

The familiar sound of a baseball smacking into the glove of the catcher brought you more comfort than you ever could’ve imagined. Your brother was on the mound, Woozi behind the plate, Mingyu in the batter's box. The whooshing of the bat through the air as your boyfriend acquired another strike had the batting coach calling out a few things to him. With a small smile on your lips you wandered toward the stairs to the dugout along the first base line, stepping up them to lean against the post giving you the clearest view of the field.

Hangover aside, the day was beautiful. The weather was perfect, the boys were talking and laughing with one another, there was the crack of the ball hitting the bat filling you with excitement as someone shouted in the outfield. The ball Mingyu hit was foul, traveling just over right field, but it wasn’t hit long enough for their bench player whose name you hadn’t learned yet to catch it in right field. Your neck stretched, everyones did. Mingyu ran to first base, but Seungcheol would catch it before he made it down the line.

Except Seungcheol was behind home plate with the batting coach, arms folded over his broad chest, his knee wrapped in a brace.

Whipping your head back and forth, from Seungcheol eyeing the ball, to the team, then you, he shouted a name that made your blood run cold.

“Hansol!”

Every bone in your body went stiff, every muscle froze. Neck nearly breaking, you plastered your eyes onto the boy standing behind first base and your coffee cup almost slipped from your trembling fingers.

You could’ve been sick. You wanted to be sick.

Months. It’d been months.

Months of distraction, months of trying to make him go away, months of squeezing him and pushing him down into a feeling you’d only allow yourself to feel between the hours of one and three in the morning if you were any sort of sober. Even drunk, he was there, a ghost haunting your memory of what could’ve been, what you had and what you left behind. He stood here now, five foot ten, a little scrawny, a little pale. Those brown waves, they were just how you left them, fluffy, soft, inviting. His eyes, chocolate and sweet, were on you, he was looking at you, not through you, not around you, at you.

And it hurt.

Every feeling manifested into a stomach ache, a nausea so debilitating that only he would know what to do about it, like he’s done for you so many times before. The amount of times he’s held your hair, that he’s pulled it back for you. So many nights at Nasara, when he was allowed to, he would get you into your bed and make sure you’d fall asleep on your side, telling Ryujin that if either of you needed anything she could call him. He’d try to not let you drink too much, but when he couldn’t keep up with the way you’d bounce around the house he’d appear with a cup full of water and wouldn’t leave you alone until you finished it. 

He’d bring you to Blend, he’d buy you a coffee, he’d offer you breakfast, and if you refused he’d offer his shoulder and he’d let you talk. And not once would he interrupt, he’d only look away to sip his coffee, reminding you to drink some of yours between the stories you had to tell.

You’d follow him along to his practices, one of the only ones to sit in the stands, or behind home plate when he’d bat or train with his coaches gearing him up for this very moment.

When the hell did he get called up?

When the hell did the Lions get him?

Why the fuck is this the first you’re hearing of it, seeing it?

He missed the ball. It fell a few feet behind him. His teammates shouted for him, they tried to get his attention, so many shouts of a name so foreign to you only because you knew it wasn’t his favorite. He was stuck, much like you, with a thousand things to say splayed out between the two of you.

Vernon.

He was here, in Haos, playing on the same team as your brother. 

On the same team as your boyfriend. 

Holy shit, Mingyu was your boyfriend.

Mingyu was your boyfriend, words you chose to say on the same day the boy you had fallen in too far deep with appears on his baseball team.

“Hansol!”

Finally his gaze of disbelief was ripped from you, having you loose a breath you were holding. Murmurs of his voice, nothing more than a hum hit you where you were standing, a sound so incredibly comforting it had tears welling up in your eyes. You’re sure it was pleading, and apologies, and excuses for missing the easiest play for a first baseman.

He hurried toward Seungcheol and the coach, as did the team, and you hightailed it off the field while no one's eyes were on you, hurried for the closest bathroom and hid yourself in a stall, collapsing to the floor with rushed breaths, willing your heart to calm down.

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[novalpha]

𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Buy A Boyfriend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Summary: Being a professional boyfriend on SVTHub is great - all Vernon has to do is respond to a few texts, send out a couple selfies, do a stream every now and then, and he makes enough to cover tuition. Things get a little tricky when he finds himself wishing he actually was your boyfriend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ By hook or by cross ♡୨୧★ -> @kabira

summary — so you punched a guy, and now he wants you to teach him how to fight, because clearly, you know how to do it better. well, fine, you say. as long as he keeps his distance. (spoiler alert: he doesn’t.)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ divorce child ♡★ -> @lovelyhan

summary: you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cold hands, Warm hearts ♡ -> @duhnova

synopsis: this holiday season, your daughter decided the best present she could give to you was a new boyfriend, which is why she and her best friend yujin have taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. their candidate? yujin’s father.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Operation : Hot girl summer ♡✹★ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ the summer you started putting more effort into your appearance also happens to be the summer where vernon chwe's piercing gaze leaves you feeling like you're floating high up in the clouds.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Not a virgin ♡✹★ -> @ncteez

Vernon, a friend of your friend spills his spicy sex life and accidentally reveals to an entire group of near-strangers (including you) that he’s had sex one and a half times and that it was sick.

or the one where despite vernon not being a virgin, he is somehow more of a virgin than an actual virgin. 

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ High and fucked ★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: hansol is nothing to you but your ex-boyfriend's roommate, but you still find yourself alone with him while you get high together

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Risk it all ★ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Vernon's got a crush on his tutor, and everything gets harder when you start wearing thigh high socks. Everything.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The soulmate service ♡✹୨୧ -> @dkfile

the soulmate service has one purpose: to help those who drew the short end of the stick and ended up without a person to live their forever with. after the heart wrenching realization that the boy you’ve loved since you were thirteen isn’t the one meant for you, you put your love life in the hands of vernon chwe — which, now that you think about it, is probably a very bad idea.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Work husband ♡✹ -> @wondernus

synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teacher is inevitable especially when he pays for your groceries and calls himself your work husband

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Trillium ♡★ -> @beahae

Summary: Vernon is flying in to see his girlfriend. Oh shit, that’s… you. Being away from him for the past few months ago makes it hard for it to feel real, especially after two years of what you both convinced yourselves was a purely platonic friendship. Now that he’s here in the flesh, you are determined to make it feel real. And very non-platonic.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say you love me (i love you) ♡✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: three heavy words. you’re so used to saying this to the one person that’s always been by your side, because you know that he’s your other half; platonically. these words have always held some sort of meaning whenever you say it to vernon, in hopes that maybe one day he’ll say it back to you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Distraction ♡✹★ -> @minghaoyoudoin

summary: typically, when a person’s house smells like fire, you call the fire department. when your house smells like fire, you know it’s because Vernon is cooking.

[ More Vernon fic recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Lovely Lady May

Happy Sunday everyone! Shout out to the anon who asked for this, sorry it took me so long I am terrible at writing endings… Hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Danny Wagner X fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ only!! Minors you don’t even want to look this direction. Breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (fem rec), lotsa dirty talk, food play, some persuasion if you see it that way, some plot, little editing

Word count: 6k

Danny Wagner. You’d had your eye on him for quite some time. He was perfect; thick head of hair, broad and sturdy frame, good facial bone structure. Yeah, he would do. Once you had decided it was him all that was left was to figure out how to approach him, win over his favor, get him to agree to what you wanted.

You knew Danny Wagner, had known him for years much like everyone knew everybody in this tiny Midwest town you’d all grown up in. He was a funny kid in high school, you never paid him much attention though admittedly you often had too much preoccupying your time back then.

In present time much of that distraction was gone. The youth did tend to leave this town while they could, leaving behind only those who had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do but stay home and find work. That’s exactly what you had done, in the years after high school you had opened a bakery in the tiny square downtown where all the wandering tourists from the next town over stopped for some gas along the way or found a cheaper place to stay.

Rent in town was cheap, that’s how you’d managed to secure your loft just above the bakery. It was small, quaint, but you had spent the last six years happily alone here making it your home. Happily that was until about a year ago when you decided that all you had in life just wasn’t enough anymore.

It started with seeing old friends finally coming back to visit family after settling down. Most of them had gotten married, and more than a few were already having kids.

It was the holiday season and you were up to your elbows in flour and sugar, scrambling to get all your orders done while also keeping the bakery itself stocked for the walk-in customers. Your high school best friend was in town, you’d almost forgotten until she walked through the door of the shop, one arm pushing the heavy glass door open while the other cradled a small bundle.

She had a baby, not even six weeks old yet, still wrinkly and warm and smelling like the sweet treats you made day in and day out. You spent the next three days visiting with her while she was in town, each time immediately plucking the babe from where it slept and placing it right in your arms. That’s when the baby fever started.

You thought it would go away, wanting a baby wasn’t exactly in the cards for you right now considering your last relationship ended the summer after senior year. As the months passed on though, you found yourself staring longingly at each little child that walked into your shop, eyes round and wide with excitement as they peered through the display cases of cookies and cakes.

It had only been a couple of months since you actually decided on going through with your plan. In fact you nearly considered forgetting it all together until you found the right person for the job.

Danny Wagner. He never left town either, opting to stay home and help his family with their business. An apple orchard right at the edge of the city limits.

You knew the place well since opening your shop, preferring to purchase local, organic, ingredients whenever you could.

At this time of year, weekly with the orders you placed from the orchard, your crates of freshly picked apples in their vibrant green, shades of red and orange, and yellows came delivered by Danny.

“A slice of apple pie today?” You called from over your shoulder as you transferred the dozen of honeycrips from their wooden crate to the large stainless sink in the back of the bakery to be washed and prepped later.

“If you’re offering” Danny replied with a smile on his face, a smile you’d grown quite accustomed to seeing when you started giving out a slice of apple pie after every delivery. It only seemed fair he got a piece considering it was his apples you used, and they really did make a difference.

With the crate cleared you pulled the wash towel from your apron and gave your hands a good drying before untying the cotton cloth from around your waist and setting it aside. “Do you have a minute?”

“Umm sure” Danny set the extra boxes of things you’d ordered on the counter next to your apron, curious about what you had in mind.

“I’m actually tweaking the recipe a little bit. Was wondering if you wanted to come upstairs and try it out for me?” You voice sounded calm and resolved, but you hoped Danny couldn’t see the slight tremble in your hands as you waved him over to the unassuming stairs that lead directly up to your loft.

Danny followed quietly, he had obviously never been up here before so he was busy taking in the surroundings when you reached the top. It gave you a bit of relief that he wasn’t paying too much attention to how you anxiously fluttered around the small kitchenette.

“I never realized you lived up here” Danny mentioned as his eyes scanned the open space, the only privacy it offered was a door to your bedroom and a door to the bathroom, everything else was right in sight from where he sat.

“What? You thought I could afford a business and my own place all on my own?” You joked. That was the normal atmosphere between you two, a lot of joking, a little flirting maybe if you squinted, but mostly just kindness.

“Well I’d say you’re doing pretty well for yourself regardless” Danny replied, finally turning his attention to you alone when he heard the sound of a knife cutting against a porcelain pie dish.

“Thanks”. You set the plate down in front of him, letting your hand brush across the top of his shoulders as you went back for the fork, waiting patiently as he took the first bite.

“Wow, if I didn’t already think you made the best damn apple pies I’ve ever had in my life, I sure do now”. He tried another larger taste, turning the fork sideways to slide through the flakey crust and scoop some of the filling into the perfect bite. A look of pure satisfaction washed over his face as he chewed. No matter how often he had your pies he did always seem to really enjoy them and it always made your day.

“So Danny…” you trailed off, trying to maintain your resolve to your goal as he continued on eating. “You would say we’re friends right?”

“Of course” he quickly replied after swallowing.

“So I can ask you something in confidence? Well, it’s a favor really”.

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a charming half smile, one that made you swoon just a little if you were completely honest with yourself. That was besides the point though, you had him here right where you wanted him and now you needed to focus. “Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Danny’s smile faded, though he didn’t seem upset, just curious again about where exactly this was going. “Sure, I have a little” he answered truthfully, adding more after a bit of consideration “I do want some, yeah”.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently” you admit, leaning against the counter so your still unsteady hands would have something to grip onto. You knew this was a big ask and it could go over very badly, but you had to try. “I want one, sooner rather than later. Problem is I’ve looked into IVF, it’s hella expensive and I don’t know if you know but owning a business doesn’t come with very good health insurance”.

It had all made sense in your head when you planned it out, finding a man to ask to be willing to make a baby with you, but when you tried to explain your thoughts out loud they started to sound less and less rational. Still, you pursued since you seemed to have kept his attention for this long. “I’ve been saving up for almost a year, and I have a friend that’s going to give her used baby stuff to me. All I need is someone willing to help me out…”

Danny was quiet again, his eyes falling to the crumbs on his plate for a moment as he thought. “Are you saying you want me to get you pregnant?”

You pressed your thighs together as you clenched around nothing. It wasn’t besides either of you exactly how that would have to come about, but even though the sex would be purely transactional it didn’t help that you’d come to find Danny extremely attractive and the way he spoke was already doing things to you that you weren’t prepared for.

“Yes, that is what I’m asking”. It was getting harder and harder to sound confident, your nerves finally taking completely over as you scrambled to plead your case. “I wouldn’t expect anything from you obviously. I’ll have plenty of support from my family and I’m looking at getting a bigger place soon. No one will ever have to know you’re the biological father”.

Danny stood slowly and your heart sank, expecting he was preparing to leave because your idea was actually crazy. Instead he only stood there, his height exceeding yours by a few inches but the way he awkwardly slouched a little and rubbed at his bare upper arms made him seem less intimidating and more approachable.

You took the step forward, reaching out for one of his hands to cradle in your own, a simple touch you hoped would show him how grateful you were for his consideration. “You don’t have to give me an answer now, but would you think about it? For me?”

With the closer distance between you two now you could see the way Danny’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. His eyes fell down your body for a moment as a shuddering breath escaped him. “When,” he began, shaking his head softly and bringing his gaze back up to meet yours dead on, “when do you want to try this?”

Your heart felt like it stopped, was he seriously agreeing? Danny was always a nice guy, a people pleaser, a hard worker, and an all around joy, but even then a part of you still expected him to at least politely decline.

“I’m ovulating right now actually” you blurted out. Yeah, that was a real mood setter.

Danny chuckled, the sweet sound jumpstarting your drive. “Right now?” His dark brows raised in playful question, his hand in yours turning over to sneak up your arm and pull you closer. “Are there any rules in this agreement?”

“Rules?” You mumbled, the feeling of his fingers gripping into your waist making your knees already feel weak.

“I mean is this just a one time thing and if it works it works, if it doesn’t it doesn’t? I’m not going to stand here and lie to you by saying I haven’t thought about being with you like this”. Danny seemed a little shy to admit his secret, but it only ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. “I mean maybe not exactly like this, but you know what I mean”.

“Really?” You breathed, allowing your hands now to come up and rest on his shoulders, playing with the torn up hem of his cut off sleeves. “I never knew”.

“Well now you do” he smiled again, dipping his head down so that the very tip of his nose brushed against your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered closed, preparing for the kiss you expected, but Danny only moved to whisper into your ear. “So I ask again, are there any rules?”

You thought about it for a moment, coming up with something on the spot since, surprisingly, you’d seemed to have thought of everything else but this. “For now this stays between us, we act perfectly casual around each other”. Danny nodded, finally pressing a warm plush lipped kiss to the spot behind your ear. You tilted your head back, giving him more access to roam across your neck. “While we’re doing this, no one else”.

“There is no one else” Danny mumbled against your pulse point, his other hand coming up to thread his fingers through your hair.

“Good. And most importantly, no pulling out”.

In one swift blurry motion, Danny grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up, walking back to the counter where he plopped you back down and immediately connected his lips to yours. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you kissed him back hungrily and desperately.

“Did you wear this for me then?” Danny asked as he slipped a hand between your bodies, sliding his palm up your inner thigh and underneath the hem of your floral dress. You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you leaned back to watch him explore.

“Easy access” he grinned as the tips of his fingers found the lace trim of your panties, and you gasped when he suddenly pressed his thumb to your heat, smirking at how wet you already were.

“Danny” you whined at how delicious the friction was even with the thin layer of cotton still in the way. “Are you going to play with me or are you going to give me what I want?”

“Oh I’m going to play with you” he chuckled again, his fingers pulling your panties aside to gather up your slick. “If we’re going to do this it might as well be fun right?”

Your brows furrowed, on one hand you wanted him to take this seriously. Having a baby was all you wanted right now and you were clearly prepared to do whatever it took. On the other hand, you thought he was right. You were sure you had read somewhere that the better the quality of the sex was, the higher the chances of conception were. So what was the harm?

With Danny still smirking at you as he circled his fingers around everywhere but where you really wanted him, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him back into a searing kiss. Danny groaned against your mouth and finally plunged two of his fingers inside, making your mouth fall open with a moan at the unexpected stretch.

“Yeah? That feel good?” Danny questioned in a faintly demeaning tone that made your brain go fuzzy for a few seconds.

You held onto his bicep tightly, the shiny polish coincidentally named ‘apple red’ on your nails contrasting with the way his skin turned pearly white under your grip. “Fuck, yeah that does feel good” you agreed with the breath in your lungs slipping away with each thrust of his fingers deeper into you. “But I bet you’d feel even better”.

“Patience sweetheart” Danny smiled, slowing his movements to give you room to breathe. “In time. But first…” he glanced around the counter you were still spread out on, his eyes zeroing in on a bowl covered in plastic wrap right within reach.

One hand with his fingers still buried deep inside you, Danny pulled the bowl closer to look at what was inside. “Is this the new recipe?” He questioned, seeing the thick caramel colored filling.

It was ridiculous he was concerned with that at this moment, but you played along anyway, taking the break to regain your composure so that you could continue to rival his attitude. “It is, did you like it? Though I have to admit it was mostly part of the plot to get you up here”

“Figured” Danny chuckled, shaking his head again. “I did, but do you mind if I ruin this batch?”

“What?” You were confused, not following his train of thought at all. “No, I don’t mind?”

Without another word he retreated his fingers only to lift the plastic off the bowl and dip inside. The look of pure shock you had on your face when he licked his fingers clean of both the pie filling and your juices mixed together had to be entertaining, because he chuckled even harder and leaned in to give you a taste.

While he kissed you, tongue lapping into your mouth, Danny found the buttons to the front of your dress and slowly undid them one by one, allowing the flowy fabric to slip open and expose your chest. “No bra? You’re making this too easy”.

“You prefer a challenge?” You giggled in return.

“No, this is good”. Danny leaned back, admiring your tits from a little distance before sticking his fingers back into the bowl beside you and smearing some of the filling onto your left nipple.

When his mouth connected with your chest you grabbed at his hair. Before you had always wondered how soft it would be, and now with your fingers weaving tightly through dense curls you were glad to say it was indeed very soft and smelled woodsy-sweet.

Once he had you nice and clean, your nipple now perky and covered in a sheen of saliva, Danny lathered up the right side with enough filling this time that it was dripping down your breast and onto your stomach. Danny held eye contact with you as he lowered himself, his tongue coming out to lick up the mess he’d made and then latched onto your nipple again, humming in satisfaction as it hardened up just as the other had.

Content with getting you cleaned off again, Danny lowered himself even further until he was on his knees before you, his hands diving back up your dress to find the waistband of your panties so that he could pull them off this time.

You braced yourself on your hands against the countertop and lifted your hips slightly to help, but before you could fully sit back down Danny wrapped his hand around your hip and pulled you right to the very edge. For extra support he let your legs come to rest on his shoulders, his face disappearing between your thighs as his mouth met your center.

Your back arched and your head met the cabinets with a dull thud as you held your moan in this time. Just like with his fingers, Danny didn’t waste any time in letting his tongue enter you, it’s pointed tip reaching as far as it could go. His nose pressed against the hood of your clit and you couldn’t help the groan that did come out when he started to shake his head side to side.

“Danny you’re gonna make me cum like that” you whined, sure that he could feel the way your legs started to shake and threatened to clamp shut around him.

Danny spoke quickly so that he wasn’t parted from you long enough to lose how close you were to your high. “Give it to me. I want to taste how sweet you are before I fill you up”.

“Ah fuck!” you cried out just as the band that had been tightening in the pit of your stomach snapped. You were unsure what had ultimately done it, the way he worked harder to get you there, or the salacious words spilled so freely from his dirty mouth. Either way your mind was still spinning with the after effects of your orgasm when he stood up and started unbuttoning his pants.

“Are you ready for me then?” He asked as you watched him through hooded eyes while he pulled himself from his boxers, stroking his hardened length a few times to smear his precum- not that he needed the extra lubricant, you were dripping at this point.

“Get over here and give it to me already”.

Danny clicked his tongue, but he moved back between your legs anyways, using the grip on his shaft to run the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “Still impatient. I’ll put a baby in you sweetheart don’t you worry”.

Before you could say anything else to counter his cheeky remark, Danny thrust his hips up into you until his base met your entrance. You thought you might have cum again just then by how wet you were around him, but you knew it was only because he turned you on more than you’d ever been before.

“God! Right there!” You threw one arm around his shoulders, your legs hooking back around his waist as his hips snapped back and forth knocking you against the cabinets. It was a good thing you’d flipped the sign in the window downstairs from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ when Danny arrived today, otherwise you were sure any customers who had stumbled in at this time would’ve heard you getting your world rocked above them.

“It’s gonna feel so good to cum in you” Danny groaned. You were unsure if he was still speaking to you, or if he was just rambling on to himself now by the way his voice came out breathy and strained. He had hands on your thighs, using his grip as leverage to keep his upwards thrusts just hard enough that you were seeing stars as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back.

Before long you were feeling like you were going to let go again, and he could feel the way your walls fluttered and clenched around him. Danny came first, slamming into you once more and then you felt the flood of warmth, the wild twitching of his length buried deep inside as he unloaded in you just like you’d asked.

“Hold on, let me look at you”. Danny hooked his thumbs under your dress and bunched it up at your waist then leaned back as he slowly began to slide out, still hard and throbbing. He watched in awe as his release started to dribble down, a sight he’d never had the pleasure of seeing before.

“Danny” you whimpered, still wound up from being so close to cumming yourself again.

He knew exactly what you wanted, and he could have teased you about it, but he wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Pushing in again, he fucked his cum back into you a few times until you were shaking as your second orgasm rocked through you.

“How are you doing?” The kindness in Danny’s voice returned and he helped tuck your tousled hair behind your ears as he kissed gently at your cheeks.

“Good…” you sighed, your body starting to relax again, “I’m doing good, thanks”.

“So do you think it’s gonna work?”

You thought maybe you could hear a bit of hopefulness, but you shook it off as your own will manifesting. “I guess we will find out in a couple of weeks”.

“You’ll let me know?” He was genuine when he asked, almost like he was afraid you’d choose to go through this alone even though you’d assured him you’d have plenty help.

“Sure” you nod your head and he helped you off the counter before retrieving your underwear from the floor. You didn’t even bother putting them back on, a shower was definitely within order before getting back to work.

“Well, see you around then?” He lingered by the door to the stairs, glancing around your apartment a few more times.

“Yeah Danny, I’ll see you around”. You held the door open for him, confident he could make his way back down to the large kitchen at the back of the bakery and out the way he always came in. “Again, thank you”.

He offered one last smile that warmed your heart to the core, “don’t mention it”.

Three days passed and you went about your life like normal. Of course you wanted to believe that it had worked, that you were cooking up your own little bun in the oven as you loaded trays of cookies into the ones at the shop.

Danny was always around, he made deliveries in town nearly everyday, usually always about noon, but today it was nearly six in the evening when the bell to the front door rang. You turned around, your face lighting up when you saw it was Danny paying you a visit.

“Closing soon?” He asked as he watched you cleaning up, broom in hand and a damp rag around your shoulder with glass cleaner stuffed in your pocket.

“In a little while. What can I do for you?” You set the broom aside, but finished buffing off the tiny fingerprints on the display case, smiling at the memory of the little boy who had excitedly picked out a chocolate muffin. If you had a boy would he like chocolate as much as this little one had? Or maybe a girl who liked strawberry.

“My dad said you hadn’t placed an order for next week yet. He wanted to know if he needed to set anything aside for you”.

“Oh, right”. A part of you had wished Danny was stopping by specifically to check in on you, but even if he was just here on business it was nice to see him. “Sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind recently. Let me go check in the back, I’m sure I can make a list right quick”.

Danny had shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a little out of place in your shop now even though he’d been here half a million times over the last few years.

You sensed his trepidation and exhaled through your nose. “Hey, I made some lemonade this morning. Want some?”

A bit of his awkwardness subsided, his charmful half smile returning as he followed you into the bakery kitchen. You finished off the picture of lemonade with two glasses, one for you and one for him, and started the search through your cabinets. Honestly you really already knew what you needed to order, same as usual a dozen of honeycrisps, a dozen granny smith, a dozen gala, two pounds of walnuts, peaches and blackberries were about to be done for the season so you’d get whatever you could, and it was about to be that time of year to start harvesting some beautiful pumpkin for bread and pie and even roasted seeds. Even so you fiddled around just to keep Danny here for a bit longer, at least so he could enjoy his refreshment.

“How have things been up there at the orchard?” You asked, trying to make polite conversation as you took out a pen and paper and scribbled your order.

“Busy as always, weathers been beautiful this week though so I can’t complain much”. He took another sip of his lemonade. Looked like maybe he was trying to make it last as well.

We’re talking about the weather… you shook your head and he raised a questioning brow. “Actually,” Danny moved closer to where you stood, glancing at your paper like he hadn’t delivered that order to you plenty of times and had it practically memorized. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to come over for dinner?”

“Dinner at the orchard? Like with your parents or something” you scoffed a little. You ask a man to creampie you one time and he wants to take you home to mom and dad.

“I mean we can invite them if you want” he chuckled himself, “but umm, no I was thinking it would just be us. I live in a townhouse not far away. Then maybe afterwards I can give you a little tour of the place”.

Danny’s hand boldly graced your lower back as he leaned in closer, his chest nearly making context with your shoulders. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking about you nonstop”.

“Thinking about me? Or about our last visit?” You countered, arching your back so that your ass pressed up against his front.

“Both” he sucked in a breath, his hand coming around to grip your hip, but he didn’t pull you any closer, just dug his fingers into the waistband of your skirt. How convenient you’d planned on wearing it today without even knowing he’d be stopping by.

“Well, I’ve got another half an hour before closing. I suppose I can meet you there”. Danny had agreed to your favor, the least you could do was accept a dinner invitation.

Danny lowered his head and placed a kiss at the nape of your neck before taking a step back and composing himself. “I don’t mind waiting”.

“Suit yourself” you shrugged, tearing the page you had written on out of your notebook and folding it in half a few times. You turned around and approached him yourself and he looked excitedly expecting as you came chest to chest with him. “You’re going to help me close up then”.

Reaching around you stuffed the list into his back pocket then placed a chaste kiss to his cheek before returning to cleaning up.

With your belly full of dinner you stepped out of Danny’s truck, the kitten heel of your shoe coming into contact with gravel that broke way to lush grass as far as the eye could see becoming covered in a layer of leaves with the beginnings of the changing season. The air smelled crisp out here, earthy and sweet just like Danny’s beautiful curls.

You tried not to think of that now as he delightedly took your hand, guiding you off into the rows of apple trees that the property had earned its namesake for.

Danny whisked you around the place he’d called home his entire life, explaining to you exactly how growing apple trees worked, the science behind it, and even shared a few stories that had you giggling and taking his hand for more.

“Thanks for coming” he finished his tour with a walk through the barn that held all their order packing supplies. Crates that were easily recognizable as the ones Danny carried over his shoulder from his truck bed to your shop door, and piles of straw to stuff them with to keep the apples from bruising. A large table next to boxes stacked on boxes of mason jars ready to be filled and sent off to their eager recipients.

“Thanks for inviting me” you replied, moving to rest against the table. It was still early in the night, but you’d been up since six baking away before the shop opened, and you’d definitely worn the wrong shoes for this excursion. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always” Danny replied, keeping his distance for now, but staring longingly at you from across the open room.

“I’ve been thinking about you too. I quite enjoyed the last time I saw you”. The lights that were strung up in the pillars reflected in his eyes and you could’ve sworn you saw blush pinken his cheeks.

“That so?” He smirked, pushing off the pillar he had chosen to lean on.

“Was it not obvious?” You added, smiling as he made his way over to you again. “I mean I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I asked you for that, but you definitely delivered”.

“So,” He was right in front of you now, his eyes scanning over the length of your body as you tried to take some weight off your feet, “I know it’s only been a few days, but do you feel any different?”

You giggled, finding it cute that he wanted to know already. He seemed even more restless than you were to know if the fruits of your labor had produced. “No, nothing yet”.

“Well, maybe, if you want I mean, we could try again? For good measure?”

“Yeah?” You raised your brows and bit your lip, looking around to see if there was anything you should be weary of in the quiet barn. “Right now?” You matched the state of surprise he had when you’d asked him the same thing up in your apartment a few days ago.

“Everyone’s gone home for the night. The only thing left to worry about is how I’m going to focus at work when I remember fucking you on this table”.

“You’ll have to fuck me on this table first for that to happen Danny”.

He breached the last gap between you, cupping your face as your lips smashed together. Both of your hands went to work riding each other of as much clothing as possible, breaking the kiss only for your shirts to be peeled off and tossed somewhere to be retrieved later. Danny pulled you from your lounging position, hooking his thumbs into your skirt and panties together and pulling them down for you to step out of before lifting you back onto the table and connecting your mouths again.

You groaned as he worked to unbutton his pants, already aching to feel him inside you again. Danny parted from you to get his pants off, and when he returned he gripped your breasts, actually covered with a thin lacy bra this time, and pushed you back to lay against the polished wood.

“You’re going to be beautiful pregnant” Danny mused as he pressed kisses to your clavicle and chest.

“Danny please” you whined, reaching around to grab at his bottom, digging your blunt nails into the round of his asscheek.

“You want me to cum in you again?” He muttered against your neck, making his way up to tickle your ear with his nose and nip at your jaw. “Make sure you have my baby, hmm?”

You pulled him down, connecting your lips to his shoulder and then biting down to encourage him to hurry up already. When he entered you again the moan that ripped through you was muffled into his skin, but his voice echoed through the rafters as he quickly set a rough pace.

Danny pried your arms from him so that he could straighten up and get a good look at you from the way your tits bounced in time with his thrusts, to the way he disappeared so easily completely inside you. “Look at this pretty pussy, crying so sweetly for me”.

Your words were beside you, lost in a jumble in your head as the pleasure took over, but you held eye contact with him and nodded vigorously. Danny slowed for just a moment, spitting into his hand and easily finding your swollen sensitive clit with his fingers.

Your back arched off the table and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore as Danny continued pounding into you and working his fingers at the same time. So close already, but it felt like long enough since the last time you’d had him.

With a newfound burst of energy, you gripped your chest, pinching your hardened nipples through the lace of your bra as your eyes fell shut and you felt your impending release building tight in your stomach. “Fuck Danny, I want to cum together. Please, I need to feel it!”

“Here it is sweetheart, just for you. Take it” he grunted as his hips staggered, and you whined his name one more time as your legs held him in place until both your orgsams were over.

“It definitely worked that time, had to” Danny chuckled as he helped you clean up as best he could.

“Danny?” You turned to him, your chest still feeling tight despite the rest of your body being weakened and wobbly as you stood from the table. “Do you think I’ll be a good mom?”

Danny looked surprised by your question, not that you had asked him of all people, but because there was still any doubt within you. He swallowed hard, trying to decide if what he wanted to say would be taking things too far, but ultimately deciding you guys had been so intimate already, what was a little feelings being added to the mix? “I think I wouldn’t want anyone else to mother one of my children”.

You blushed hard, moving to give him another grateful kiss. “You know, I think you’d make a great Dad too”.

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