#maybe my family would still talk to me and i could change my name to celeste without raising any flags

[eternal-love]

Star

gif isn’t mine, it’s: @beautifulbutler

Pairing: Peyton Leverett x female!reader/you

+18 (smut, blowjob, going down in a girl, y’know the drill)

Summary: You decide to help Peyton out on his new project, you’ll be his subject, or as he calls you, his star. Things take a turn when you give him a more exciting thing to film.

You met Peyton once in Central Park, you had tripped over and all the contents of your bag had basically fallen out your bag. He helped you and since he was hot, you started talking to him. Hanging out with him.

He told you all about his short and long films, about how his teacher loved them. And how his hobby was still heavily involved with the career he studied in NYU. He told you that he was looking for another person to film and he said you were interesting.

You didn’t know if to feel flattered or insulted, did he see something interesting in a weird or a cool way? Whatever it was, it meant that Peyton had his eyes set on you, and you liked it. So you agreed.

You were just going to help a friend out, right?

So you made sure to look your best as you got ready, fixing your hair a thousand times in front of the mirror, applying different lipsticks, changing a thousand times. Suddenly you had forgotten what colors he liked.

Maybe helping a friend out didn’t mean shaving, or using your best perfume.

But even the taxi driver complimented your perfume, the smell that impregnated his small taxi. Happy that the old man, who spent the whole ride saying that you remembered him of his daughter.

You finally made it to Peyton���s apartment studio, taking deep breaths, you knocked and he opened the door.

“Hi, sorry but the traffic was horrible.” You apologized for being exactly ten minutes late.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I have all day.” Peyton let you in, smiling. His studio apartment was neat, not the most clean you’ve seen but you’ve seen worse. He had his camera in his desk, you sat down on in front of the window where he had a small chair.

“Nothing is rehearsed or script. I’ll just ask you some questions and you answer them.”

“I don’t think the camera likes me so much.” You chuckled, putting strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll make it work. Remember, you are my star today.” He pointed at you with a smile.

You smiled, feeling flattered. His star. Just his. He started recording you, making zooms of your face as you fixed yourself once again.

He asked rather normal questions, your age, your name, your hometown. You could ramble about your hometown and family for hours.

“Why did you come to New York?” Peyton asked, zooming into your face.

“Well, I want what everyone wants when they come to NYC. Success. I believed that it would be very different from my hometown. It is, but everyone here is different too. You don’t just stand out in a crowd, and because everyone here is so different, you get lost in between all the faces.”

You said, coming to New York with big aspirations only for them to be shattered as you find out that everyone here came with the same dream.

“A dreamer. I like it.” Peyton chuckled. “And your parents? Did they support you?”

“My dad did, he drove me all the way from my hometown to Madison Square Garden. My mother, I think it was hard for her. She definitely didn’t know what I would be up to. She probably thought I would end up as an exotic dancer…” you laughed, covering your mouth.

“Don’t. It’s pretty and it makes it more raw.” Peyton said, smiling at you. “My teacher likes it when the films focus on the real subject.”

You nod, licking your lips and continuing to speak. “Yes. I know she misses me, that she can’t stop thinking of me. I guess she worries, when you tell your mother that you dance at a club, they think the worse. And I get it. But I like it. I like dancing in the club, I’m not a stripper or a hooker. I just like being on stage. It’s not Broadway but I belong there.”

Peyton was basically enamored by you, more than being his subject, he had made it obvious that you were his star. The two of you had a break to eat, ordering Chinese food as you sat on a small table he had.

“The camera loves you. And I’m sure my teacher will too.” Peyton spoke, his mouth full.

“I never thought I would get this sincere, it’s strangely freeing.” You say, you tried to reach for a napkin but end up knocking the bottle of soda down. Wetting everything. “Shit! Sorry, let me—”

“There’s a rag on my desk.” Peyton tried to remain calm. He hated messes but, it was you. He didn’t care.

You nodded, going to his desk and scanning for a towel or something. Going through the first drawers, your eyes widened at the sight of lotion and Playboy magazines.

“Damn, you’ve been spending your money right.” You said, smirking.

“That’s private. Thank you.” Peyton practically rushed by your side, wanting to take the magazines from you.

“I don’t even want to see why they’re sticked together.” You laugh again. His face was flushed.

“I like having options. And they’re only fourteen dollars anyways.”

You turned to face him. You know, since he mentioned how the film would be filmed, you couldn’t help but think of the Audition format in porn videos.

You know, you get to the audition couch, you sit down. They ask you to slowly strip down until you’re butt naked. They compliment you, then they proceed to fuck you senseless while recording you.

You wouldn’t have done it with anyone else. But it was Peyton. You yearned for him to do that.

“You’ve ever done anything else apart from interviews?” You asked him, as he sat behind the camera.

“Yes? I don’t do much. It’s my style.”

“You’ve never had any girl flirt with you? I don’t know.”

“I haven’t brought many girls here. Only the other girls that live here.” Peyton shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, so you have brought girls back.” You teased him with a smirk. He blushed, his cheeks and ears were pink.

“Yes, I have. Is that a crime? A guy has needs.” He confessed while chuckling, a bit ashamed. But they were friends, right? “Look, I’m just doing this to practice. I guess. For fun too. That’s why I’m letting you swear.”

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never thought of ever filming yourself having sex?” You asked, staring right at him.

“I’ve thought of it. But— I’m scared of one day sending that video to my professor. Or showing Sharpay the wrong video.”

“It could be fun. Just saying.”

It was just harmless fun, was it not?

“Are you sure?” He asked you. Just imagining you on all fours in his bed made his jeans feel tighter.

“Damn sure.” Peyton didn’t waste a minute in closing his curtains and placing the camera on his desk, recording his bed.

It didn’t take long before you two were making out on the bed. He appeared to be extra hungry for this kind of feeling. The lust, the edge, everything. Perhaps NYU had been everything in his mind lately that he forgot he could have fun too.

And you? Too many lonely nights in your miserable no-bedroom apartment. Too many miserable nights watching whatever FOX was playing.

So when you got the chance to touch Peyton’s hard cock, you didn’t waste it. He grunted as you touched it and squeezed it lightly. His tongue fighting yours as he grabs your face to keep you close. Unbuttoning his pangs, you get yourself on top of the bed completely.

But he was significantly stronger, making it easier for him to pin you down on the bed. His lips making their way to your neck. There’s a chill going down your spine. When was the actual last time you time you had sex? Because you don’t even remember it.

“You smell so good.” He groaned on your neck, leaving love bites wherever he pleased. He was quick go pull down your skirt, leaving you in just your panties. He moved on to take off your shirt, his mouth going directly to your breasts, sucking on them.

“You taste so good.” He muttered against your skin. He took off your bra quickly, his hand agile enough to do it in a snap. He kissed softly, your neck, your chest, your stomach, until he reached your underwear.

One of his hands found their way to your clothed and wet slit, his fingers softly gracing your throbbing pussy. He began rubbing you softly through the panties, gently and not really following a pattern, but making you feel like you were about to touch heaven.

“Do you like that?” He purred softly, his head turning to look at the camera for a few seconds. Making sure it was recording.

“Y-yes…” you whispered softly, making his press his fingers even more, you whined in response.

“Talk louder or the camera won’t pick it up, baby.” He said, his tone a bit forceful.

You didn’t answer. That only made him basically pull your panties down, pulling your thighs apart, the camera getting a one-person pov of your throbbing pussy. His finger immediately went to your sensitive bud, circling with slow touches.

You moaned even louder, your back arching as your hair became a mess underneath you. You began panting, and he was just rubbing you.

“I’ll make you feel good for the camera. It will love seeing you moan for me.” Peyton muttered as he kept rubbing your core before suddenly stopping. You whined, but he didn’t give you much enough time to think before he moved you around the bed, making sure you laid correctly as she positioned his head between your legs, kissing your pelvis, your thighs until his mouth found your core.

His tongue flicking in and out as he devoured you relentlessly, tasting you whole. He knew was he was doing, attacking your sensitive pussy, he wanted to capture how you had been the one with the idea yet you had let him posses you. How you squirmed under him and only him. How he had this sort of power over you. His tongue moving in ways you didn’t know it could, as you felt yourself coming undone over him. You grabbed his blond locks, so that he wouldn’t tease you again and stop without warning. Bucking your hips against his face.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna!—“ and you finished, he devoured your orgasm as if he were a thirsty man. Tasting your sweet cum on his lips and tongue. You were left panting, but not for long as he suddenly crawled on top of you, capturing your lips for yet another kiss.

He took off his pants and threw them anywhere, taking off his tshirt, and his boxers. He was well endowed, very well-endowed. Grabbing his cock with his hand, he didn’t waste a single second before entering you. Making him groan loudly, and you whimpered, your eyes rolling at the back of your head. He started off slow, very slow, so you’d get used to his size. You felt his cock stretching every single part of your right pussy, if he wasn’t made for you and you for him then you don’t know who else could match up.

“You’re so good for me. So eager.” He said, before grabbing your chin and making you look at the camera in the desk. “The camera loves you, can’t you see?”

His pace started to escalate. His thrusts were a bit more determined and strong. Your hips rolling too. One of his hands went to your breasts, tracing the outline of them, pinching your nipples.

“So perfect for me. So perfect for the camera.” He said, his mouth going to kiss your breast. The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the studio apartment. “I’ll ruin you for other guys. They won’t have a thing on me, I promise you that.” He basically groaned out, oh, he wanted you all for himself.

His pace and thrusts became more rapid, deep and harsh, making you squirm around him as you moaned. Were you trying to control yourself? No, you wanted all the girls that ever flirted with him that you were marking territory. As weird as that may sound, you wanted Peyton all for yourself. Because, how could you ever let his guy go?

His body slamming into yours, feeling your walls tightening around his cock. You two were lost on each other, the way his face was buried on your neck, just wanting to never forget how you smelled, how you taste, how you sound.

A minutes later, you both finished at the same time. He buried himself as deep as he could, filling her up.

“Austin…”

“Y/n…”

They both repeated out of breath, almost in the way you would say amen after a prayer. He laid on top of you for a few seconds, his hand rubbing your cheek. He let you rest for a few minutes.

“I’ll reward you, and I’ll give you the best closing scene.” You told him. As you sat up from the bed, your legs trembling a little, grabbing his camera from the desk and giving it to him.

He stood up from the bed too, confused as he held the camera. He was confused until he saw you kneel you in front of him. Just the sight of you going on your knees made him get hard again. The camera was huge but that did not stop him from finding a good angle.

“You’re a star.” He said, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“You said I was your star today.” You said, as you leaned to place small kisses on his pelvis, he resisted the urge of already making her swallow his cock whole.

“You like what you see, baby?” He asked, his cock on full display for you and the camera to see. He gripped her hair, tangling in his hands. “Be a good baby. Show the camera how good you are to me.” He purred.

You licked his dripping tip, before slowly wrapping your lips on his cock, moaned and groaned. Oh, you were good.

“F-fuck.” He moaned, but he kept the camera steady. He wouldn’t have to buy Playboy magazines anymore. “You were made for the camera. Look at you.”

You never bit him or hurt him, you were just perfect, you just had the most perfect mouth. Made just for him, just for his size, just for his cock.

“I’m not going to last very long…” He warned you, bucking his hips too, making you gag, your eyes watery as you were relentlessly sucking him down. His body was tense, in need to release himself. You looked up at him with your widened eyes. Oh, he got off on that too, it nearly made him cum on your throat right then in there.

“I can’t- I won’t last…” He forced out his voice, strained. You couldn’t help but pull away from him for a moment. He gasped, trying to keep himself on control. You stared up at the camera.

“Swallow or face?” You asked him. Just the image of him coming all over your face or making you swallow made him even more weaker.

“Face.” He said quickly. He would rather watch the video in repeat on his you’re covered in his cum than having to imagine you swallowing.

You nod. You spat in your own hand. Now using your hand to please him. Waiting for him to have his climax. It didn’t take long before his face contracted. His cum all over her face.

“Oh… God!” He groaned.

You licked your lips. You never allowed guys to finish in your face. Not even. You didn’t even blow them. But Peyton, damn, he deserved it. He kept recording you, your beautiful face all drenched in his juices. He stopped recording and placed the camera on his bed.

He pulled you up to you feet and kissed you, tasting himself as his tongue made his way into your own mouth. He pulled away. His thumb cleaned your cheek, recollecting some of his cum in it, he brought it to your lip, making you lick it clean.

“I think I’ll need you to star in more of my films.”

Author’s note: this was the most embarrassing things I’ve ever written. I don’t ever write this ‘overly-detailed’ smut. But I tried. This was oh-so-deeply inspired by Austin’s character in NCSI: New York too. Where he plays a porn star.

I hope you guys like it! Love you all! 🫶💕

[volkihar]

ough i wish it was. easier to be nonbinary

[sanarsi]

Controversially young girlfriend

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel finally finds his brother. He's not too happy to hear how he got on with his life without him. But his brother is also not happy to meet his new partner - you. Or Joel fucks you to comfort you. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 56), soft!dom!Joel, maybe little angst, unprotected PIV, fingering, daddy kink, DAUGHTER ISSUES (pls it’s important), protective!Joel, no!Ellie AU, pet names (baby girl, kitty, daddy) Wordcount: 4,6k An: Soft Joel is definitely one of my favorites. It's a pleasure to write him that way. Music I worked with: Brooklyn Baby - Lana Del Rey

Masterlist

“Well…” Tommy started, looking away. His hand intertwined with the woman's hand next to him. “Maria is family, actually.”

There was silence.

The atmosphere became so thick that you felt uncomfortable even though you weren't part of their conversation. Joel's gaze was fixed on the hands of the couple next to him as if he was cursing them in every way. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how his jaw was clenching dangerously so you decided to save the situation before it became even more awkward.

“Congrats,” you said with a nice smile and they responded in kind.

But they didn't wait for your words.

They waited for Joel's words, but he still remained dangerously silent.

You looked at him, placing your hand on his in a comforting gesture. His fingers immediately tightened around yours as if they were the only thing that could save him.

“Joel, say congrats,” you murmured with an encouraging smile. You watched carefully as he clenched his jaw tighter, fighting with himself. His eyes finally fell on his brother and his partner.

There was a long silence again.

“Congrats,” a low voice cut through the silence like a knife. You wanted to roll your eyes at the way his words sounded. As if he wished them to fall out on the ice. So in Joel’s style...

You were surprised that his attitude towards the whole situation changed in just a few seconds. A moment ago he was hugging his brother with tears in his eyes and now he was looking at him with contempt. There was no positive emotion in his behaviour but you decided that you would ask him about everything when you were alone.

You squeezed his hand tighter as he leaned back, getting more comfortable. And it wouldn't be something special if that damn old man wasn't trying to show in this way his dominance.

This time you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his childish behavior. Grown up man.

Tommy and Maria exchanged knowing glances before he tried to break the awkward atmosphere.

“So…” he started with a smile, looking from you to Joel. “Are you two…” he started, pointing his finger at you. You immediately understood what he was trying to ask and you opened your mouth to answer him, but Joel was faster.

"Yes," he said coldly. You glanced at him as he continued to stare deadly at his brother. Tommy smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"He's annoying sometimes, isn't he?" he asked teasingly, wanting to relax the atmosphere. You chuckled, deciding that at least you, out of the two of you, would show some level of manners.

“Yeah, sometimes,” you nodded with a smile. Tommy quickly realized that he would rather talk to you than to his own brother. He smiled pleasantly at you, ignoring Joel's burning gaze.

"How did you meet?" he started, wanting to do a quick interview. And of course he wasn't doing it because you looked so damn young.

Too young…

You smiled wider, glancing out of the corner of your eye at Joel before you began to speak.

"Well... we happened to run into each other in the middle of nowhere," you said, feeling Joel start to gently stroke your hand with his thumb. A small gesture but it gave you a lot of comfort. “It won't come as a surprise that the first time we met, we pointed guns at each other,” you laughed softly at the memory. It seemed so irrational now. "But somehow he managed to convince me not to put a bullet in his head."

Joel finally glanced at you, and if it weren't for the whole situation, he would have started teasing you about what you said.

“He's been like my shadow ever since,” you finished saying and glanced at Joel, giving him a soft smile. His gaze immediately warmed. You were his weak spot and like a ray of sunshine, you warmed his broken soul. You were his cure.

Tommy noticed the way you were looking at each other and felt strangely uneasy. He hadn't seen Joel look at anyone like that since his daughter died. And he honestly didn't think it was a good thing.

"How old are you?" came the question from his mouth. Maria looked at him warningly, but it was too late. The words were spoken.

You looked at Tommy, smiling crookedly. You knew that your age was... a topic you preferred to avoid. Relationships with such an age difference were not perceived very well by other people.

“I-“ you started hesitantly.

"Twenty-two," Joel replied, looking intently at his brother. You swallowed, feeling a lump in your stomach as you heard Joel's confident voice. You tightened your fingers on his hand, searching for the comfort he immediately provided you.

For him, there was only you.

You and your comfort were his priority.

Tommy laughed nervously, his eyes darting between the two of you. He straightened up slowly and glanced at his partner as if she was about to tell him that it was all really a joke.

But no one else laughed. Maria looked at him knowingly, Joel looked at him deadly and you looked down. Everyone was dead serious and then Tommy couldn't stand it. He looked at everyone, getting more serious by the second.

“Are you fucking serious?” he finally asked in disbelief. He snorted dryly, focusing his full attention on Joel. You cringed slightly at his aggressive tone. His reaction didn't bode well and you honestly didn't want to witness it. “Joel, what the fuck?” he growled, pointing his hand at you. “She's twenty-two. She's a fucking child."

You blinked a few times, staring stubbornly at the discoloration on the table. Right now, anything was better than facing the situation that was happening.

But Joel was calm. At least that's what he appeared to be. He gently squeezed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. And he didn't seem at all concerned about his brother's reaction.

"If Sarah were alive-"

"Don’t," Joel interrupted him firmly. Tommy fell silent, knowing he had said a few too many words. But he wasn't thinking about that now. He was too upset about what his brother was doing. He snorted dryly, spreading his hands helplessly.

“What are you doing exactly?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’re playing family with her? Playing her daddy?” he continued with increasing disgust. “Treating your daughter issues?” he added with venom.

Tears appeared in your eyes. Was your relationship really that disgusting in the eyes of others?

"She is younger than her, Joel" he said a little more calmly, trying to make his brother realize that what he was doing was wrong. Your eyes met Maria's. There was no compassion in her for this situation, she looked at you with compassion as if you were unaware of the harm that was affecting you. As if you were… just a stupid kid.

You shuddered because of the negative emotions that filled the table. This didn't go unnoticed by Joel. He knew he had allowed Tommy's offensive comments to go on too long.

"She's happy with me," he finally said, his voice a little hoarse. This time you shuddered because of him. “You don't have to worry about the rest. I'm not hurting her.” He straightened up slowly and squeezed your hand before letting you go. "We'll replenish our supplies and leave in the morning," he decided, moving away from the table. Tommy looked at him, not knowing what to say.

"Joel-"

"Thank you for the meal," he said politely to Maria and stood up. His contemptuous gaze was fixed on his brother as he extended his hand towards you.

“It was nice to meet you,” you said, smiling politely at her and then without thinking, you took Joel's hand. In the blink of an eye, a jacket appeared on your shoulders as you stepped outside. Without a word, you tried to keep up with Joel as you passed the others people.

He was furious, you were sure of that. That's why you were afraid to even breathe for several minutes. The snow crunched under your shoes as you passed each street. You had access to the house at the very end of the town, so you had a short walk ahead of you.

Eventually, Joel slowed down a bit. His shoulders stopped tensing and the crease between his eyebrows disappeared slightly.

“Not so great orientation meeting,” you said jokingly. Joel raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you. And even though his emotions were swirling inside him, the sight of your sweet, innocent smile immediately brought him peace.

He sighed heavily, looking away. “Yeah, not very successful,” he replied with a small smirk on his face.

You smiled wider when you saw his reaction. You loved that Joel was like this just with you. As if he couldn't feel negative emotions around you. He really couldn’t. You were his cure for everything.

The rest of the way was spent in silence until you stood on the porch of the last house on the street and Joel opened the door for you.

“Woah,” you sighed, looking around the house. “A house suitable for living. I’m in shock” you marveled as you slowly explored each room and Joel watched your every move. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and quickly looked around the interior.

“Yeah, not bad,” he nodded, making you look at him in shock.

“Dude, it's awesome here,” you said, spreading your arms with a wide smile.

“Language” admonished you.

“Yeah, sorry,” you nodded and started exploring the house again.

You spent the entire evening washing away the dirt from several months. Only after the third time, the water was clear. You sat staring at the water as Joel washed your hair once again. You didn't ask him for it, but you never had to ask him for anything. If he could, he would start breathing for you. It may have amounted to obsession.

But who could stop him? More than one has tried to take you away from him. And they all ended their lives.

Who could blame him? If he had to, he would kill everyone in the world, everyone infected, just to keep you safe.

"Can I ask you something?" you spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Anything,” he replied, automatically washing the ends of your hair thoroughly.

“You promise you won't be mad?”

“I can't be mad at you.”

And it was true. Even though you knew it, you still felt stressed. Joel was…allergic to certain topics and you completely respected that. But after today, you couldn't and didn't want to stay silent.

“How old would Sarah be now?” you asked quietly. His movements stopped for a few seconds, as did your heart. But Joel didn't let you live in uncertainty for long. He slowly started washing your hair again and sighed softly. You knew that this topic wasn't very pleasant for him, so you honestly spat in your face for needing to know the answer to a few questions.

"Thirty-two," he replied without much emotion.

You swallowed hard, realizing that Tommy was right. You were too fucking young for him.

His daughter would be ten years older than you.

His daughter.

And you were his… who? Girlfriend? Now that sounded pathetic.

You wrapped your arms around your knees tighter, resting your chin on them and remaining silent. You've never thought about it all this way.

Joel was always… good for you.

True, he had his weaknesses, but who didn't? His wounds didn't bother you. After all, you fell in love with him. With all his flaws.

"You're silent," he noted after a few minutes of silence.

This conversation was not in his favor, but he knew that there were reactions going on in your head that shouldn't be there. And he knew he had to make sure nothing stupid got into your head.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, starting to slowly rinse the lather from your hair. The warm water ran down your back, making you shiver with pleasure.

“I just… think,” you shrugged. Joel sighed heavily and you knew very well what that meant.

"Baby-"

"Do you think Tommy's right?" you interrupted him before he could get going.

"About?" he asked, squeezing the excess water from your hair. You straightened up, looking at him over your shoulder. You were upset by everything you heard and he couldn't bear it. He couldn't stand that his own brother had put you in such a state. A state of doubt.

Joel moved closer to you, groaning softly as he knelt by the tub. You watched his tired face with those innocent eyes of yours.

“Listen, baby girl…” he started and touched your cheek gently. “I'm not going to lie to you…Tommy's god damn right,” he nodded, and more emotions immediately appeared in your eyes.

Fear? Surprise? Uncertainty? Or maybe all at once.

Despite his words, he smiled at you, stroking your jaw tenderly. “I'm too damn old for you,” he laughed, following the movements of his fingers with his eyes. His worn hands against your silky skin.

Two contradictions.

“Fuck…” he sighed with a helpless smile and trailed his fingers down to your neck. “Baby, you are like a blooming flower. Young, beautiful, innocent," he said dreamily. "While I am a dried bush overgrown with weeds for a long time."

“You are not,” you denied, frowning in sadness. Joel smiled fondly at your words and stroked your cheek with his thumb. You unconsciously hugged to his hand. A warm, rough hand that brought you a sense of security.

“So what am I in your eyes?” he asked, looking at you with tenderness. You were so damn delicate that sometimes he was afraid he would break you.

“You are like a big oak tree at the very top of the hill,” you said with a soft smile. A smile that was intended only for him. “Your crown provides shade and shelter in the summer,” you continued, looking closely at every detail on his face. "And in winter your branches scare away all those who didn’t rest under you in summer."

His heart tightened in his chest as he listened to your words. In your eyes, Joel was a completely different person. In your eyes, he was good.

“You would be a good poet,” he replied, shaking his head with a smile. You watched as he slowly stood up, groaning at the slightest movement.

Good old oak.

“Get your ass out of it cause I want to wash up too,” he looked down at you with a smirk before walking out of the bathroom.

A few hours later you were lying in bed.

A soft bed.

A clean bed.

And yet you couldn't sleep.

You stared at the blank wall and thought about everything and nothing. Joel was long asleep. At least that's what you thought. You didn't know because you hadn't turned to face him since he laid down in bed. His calm breathing was the only thing you could focus on. No other sounds. You were... safe. This was rare.

So why did you feel so… bad?

Why his calm breathing didn’t bring you comfort like it always did?

Why you felt like you were in the wrong place?

Why-

“You've been silent for several hours,” Joel's hoarse voice brought you out of your thoughts. “It wouldn't be weird if you were sleeping, but you are not,” he continued, and the mattress behind you sagged under his weight. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned in, nuzzling your ear. “So are you finally going to tell me what this is about?” he whispered, sending shivers down your entire body. Your pulse immediately quickened at his proximity.

Then came a gentle kiss behind the ear.

And then on the neck.

And then his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer to his heated chest.

“I was sleeping,” you said quietly, hoping to avoid the conversation.

“Liar,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath reverberating through your body in an inappropriate way. “Come on, baby girl,” he nuzzled you encouragingly. "Spit it out."

You lay there struggling with yourself for a while. You didn't want to talk about it now. You didn't want to talk about it at all. But something inside made you ask the question that was floating around in your head like a virus.

“If you think Tommy is right, then why-”

“Because I love you,” he interrupted you, knowing very well what your question would be. Even if he didn't know, there was one answer. “Because I can't imagine being where I am now without you.”

You fell silent, letting his words permeate the space around you. You believed him. Always and in everything. You pursed your lips into a line, wondering for the first time if you were stupid enough to trust him blindly with everything.

For the first time you doubted him.

“They looked at me like I was stupid for trusting you,” you whispered, huddling deeper under the blanket. Joel sighed softly and turned you towards him. You stared at his chest, not wanting to look at him. You were ridiculed just because you were young.

“Hey, baby, look at me,” he said gently, running his fingers down your cheek to your chin to force you to look up.

You were sad.

He hated when you were sad.

His sunshine couldn't hide behind the clouds.

“You're not stupid, you understand?” he started, looking at you seriously. You wanted to look away but he wouldn't let you. "Understand?" he repeated more firmly. You nodded weakly, but that was enough for him. “I'm the problem, not you,” he spoke softly, stroking your cheek gently. “I'm not a good person and they know it,” he smiled gently, wanting to reassure you. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I've done a lot of bad things you've never even heard of." He slowly traced your cheek until he finally removed his hand only to place it on your hip. “But you… You are good.” He pressed his fingers lightly against your skin and then moved down to your thigh. “And someone as good as you shouldn't be with someone as bad as me,” he explained and slowly pulled your leg on top of him.

“But-“

“Your age is just something they can pick on,” he answered your question before it left your mouth. You fell silent, feeling the warmth on your cheeks as his hand slowly began to stroke your thigh. “They don't believe that someone like you is with me by choice and not by force,” he explained with a soft smile on his lips as his hand moved up, sneaking under your shirt to your waist. “They explain everything using my trauma. And the fact is, maybe there is a fatherly instinct in me. But thanks to this, I can take care of you the way you need it.” His words crept into your head just as he wanted them to. You were fascinated by him. You looked at him again like you always did.

As if there was only him in the whole world.

That look healed another piece of his soul each time.

He couldn't lose you.

Even at the cost of his own brother.

“And the fact that you kissed me first was just an added bonus. I'm just a man and you knew exactly what to do to make me weak for you" he added with a smirk and you snorted under your breath. Your reaction was enough to make his heart beat faster. And the happiness in your eyes only ignited it.

He leaned towards you, nuzzling his nose against yours. You closed your eyes with a blissful smile.

“They may think you're stupid for me, but the truth is, I'm stupid for you,” he whispered before gently pressing his lips to yours. The warmth of his lips and the roughness of his beard warmed your heart. He kissed you gently and slowly. He always did it slowly. Enjoying every second of the closeness you gave him. He didn't know how many moments like this he had left so he enjoyed everything you gave him.

The softness of your lips.

The gentleness of your hands.

The sweetness of your moans.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer until there was no space between you. Your hands came to his cheeks as he slowly deepened the kiss. Even in the kiss he could feel how delicate you were.

Joel was already too destroyed by life for his lips to taste like yours. But that's how you liked him. With heavy touch, rough beard, chapped lips and tired eyes. And all this with a pinch of love he had for you.

You moaned into his mouth as he pulled your hips closer to his. How could you not fall for him when he was perfect for you?

“Let me take care of you, baby girl,” he whispered against your lips and moved his hips gently, grinding against you. Your breath shuddered as he brushed against your pussy. Without thinking, you nodded.

“Okay,” your whisper disappeared into his mouth as he kissed you again. He ran his hand down your back to your ass until he disappeared between your thighs.

You moaned sweetly as he ran his fingers over your wet slit. He loved how wet you were for him. Always.

You made him feel like a man again.

You let him take care of you in every sense of the word. You trusted him. And this time he wasn't going to make the same mistake.

His fingers slowly dipped into your hole, triggering another moan that disappeared into his mouth. He slowly started fucking you with his fingers. Gently and with love. Takes his time with you.

You breathed heavily into his mouth, purring every now and then in contentment at his gentle touch. He experienced it with you, drinking everything from your lips.

“You're always ready for me,” he purred contentedly and rubbed the bulge in his boxers against your clit. You whimpered softly. “Such a good girl,” he nuzzled against yours and placed a kiss on the tips of your lips. You felt the muscles in your lower abdomen begin to tense with every movement of his finger.

And suddenly his fingers disappeared. You gasped, feeling the sudden emptiness. His hand disappeared between your bodies only to take out his ready cock. He ran his hand along his entire length a few times, placing another kiss on your cheek.

“Don’t worry, daddy will take care of you,” he whispered, running his tip over your slit and then dipping into you a moment later. You gasped, closing your eyes and letting him wrap his arms around your waist.

He pulled you closer, impaling you with his cock. He shuddered as he buried himself inside you. You always welcomed him with warmth and wetness. You clenched around him at the feeling of being filled.

“She's happy to see me,” he said happily, placing a trail of kisses along your jaw. He wrapped his arm tightly around your hips and slowly began to move inside you. His movements were negligible. He pulled out of you only a few inches only to come back in again. These lazy movements were beyond perfect. You felt him perfectly and constantly. Just like you should.

You moaned, tightening your leg around his hip to get even closer. To make it even deeper. His lips were on your neck, placing wet kisses inch by inch. And all you could do was melt in his embrace. Every lazy movement of his hips stimulated you non-stop. Your soft moans filled the room and his heart. He loved hearing you sing for him.

He kept thrusting into you, keeping the perfect pace. Zero breaks in stimulating your pussy. Lazy sex was definitely one of your favorites. The constant closeness you had then was something that made you forget for a moment that the world around you existed. His lips returned to yours, inviting you into a deep kiss. Perfectly coordinated from the very beginning. From the first moment your lips met.

“I love making love to you,” he whispered against your lips. All you could do in response was pull him in for a kiss again. The pleasure you felt between your legs, your heart and your soul made a single tear roll down your cheek.

Fuck, how could you ever give up on this man? The old oak tree under whose care you blossomed.

His fingers dug into your skin and his movements were more decisive. He continued to move lazily inside you, only to enter hard until the very end. You breathed heavily into his mouth, keeping your hands firmly on his cheeks. Your gasps and moans mixed together in perfect harmony.

“Fuck, dad-“ you trailed off as he thrust into you hard once again.

“Yes, baby girl, come on my cock,” he gasped, feeling your slit becoming more and more reluctant to let him come out of you. This was the only time he started fighting with you.

He held your hips tightly, trying to keep the same pace even though you weren't making it easy for him.

“Don't fight it kitty,” he said with a smile. You laughed softly against his lips and started moving your hips to help him. Your movements made him look forward to fulfillment as well. You both moved your hips in sync, moaning into each other's mouths.

“Daddy’s gonna fill you up, okay?” he gasped, feeling his movements become sloppier than he would have liked.

“Mhm,” you murmured, holding on to his neck like a lifeline. Joel began to moan louder and louder into your mouth, feeling his orgasm slowly approaching like a wave of fire. You sped up your hip movements, feeling him start to slow down. You had to catch up with him.

“Oh, fuck… Fuck,” he groaned in pleasure as he came inside you. His orgasm was like a rag to a bull for you. You rolled your hips a few more times before you came, panting heavily. You shuddered, moving your hips one more time before you collapsed, looking up at him, satisfied.

He watched you in silence, and the sight of your face after your orgasm was definitely one of his favorites. He leaned towards you, stealing a gentle kiss. His thumb stroked your cheek as if you were made of porcelain. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you to his chest as he covered your bodies with the blanket. You snuggled into him, listening to his heartbeat as he stroked your hair gently.

"You know... you may be too old for me, but you're still doing pretty well," you admitted, and he laughed quietly.

"Yeah?" he asked, amused.

“Yeah,” you nodded with a smile. Joel leaned down to press a kiss to your head in response to your teasing. You were perfect. And you were his.

[starkwlkr]

it’s nothing new | sebastian vettel

part 1 part 3

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!

“hello?”

“mark, hi.”

“y/n? it’s been a while. how are you?” the aussie asked. it had been years since you spoke to mark, but he always kept you updated. he sent messages about how everyone in the paddock was doing, which you appreciated him for.

“i . . i’m okay. is this a bad time to talk to you?” you asked. you suddenly remembered about time zones.

“it’s alright, i always have time for you. what’s going on?” he questioned.

“so i am at my sister’s house and i didn’t want to sleep the whole flight so i decided to read your book.” you replied. “it’s a beautiful book, mark.”

“thanks.” he knew there was more you wanted to say. “are you mad?”

“mad about what?” you asked. “what you wrote about sebastian and i? is that what you’re talking about?”

“well yeah. i tried to contact you several times. you wouldn’t answer my messages so i assumed you changed numbers. seb told me he didn’t care if i wrote it in—”

“mark, i’m not mad. i’m far from it. i just want to know if it’s true. did he tell you everything? the night he won the title, i mean.” you asked. you remembered that night clearly. you didn’t finish the race, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating with sebastian.

“he would never lie about you, love. i told him to tell you, just to get it off his chest but he wouldn’t. you were with someone else, it was wrong.” mark explained. “you know the day you announced your engagement, he hated himself for not telling you sooner. maybe things would’ve ended differently if he had.”

maybe . .

“does he hate me?”

there was always that possibility. but when it came to sebastian, he would rather die than say he hates you.

“he could never hate you even if you did throw a show at him and call him a cunt.” mark chuckled. “he still loves you, you know, he asks about you all the time and i have no idea what to tell him.”

“well maybe i could tell him myself . . do you have his phone number?”

after you were given seb’s number, you noticed he never changed it. you weren’t sure why, but you decided to text him instead of calling.

y/n

hi seb, it’s y/n. i know it’s been so long and i’m sorry for how things ended. i hope you’re doing great. i’m not doing too good right now. my marriage is ending so i have that going for me. i’m staying with my sister and her family. anyways, i hope you don’t mind me messaging you. mark gave me your number but turns out i still have it saved. speaking of mark, i read his book on the flight, it’s very interesting. i’ll leave you alone now, thanks for caring about me all these years.

after you sent the message, you didn’t expect a reply. it was as if he was waiting for a message this whole time.

seb

hi y/n. i hope you know i never forgot about you after all this time. i’m sorry about your marriage, i really am. i don’t mind at all that you message me, i never changed my number in hopes that one day you would. as for mark’s book, i hope you’re not mad, but if you need to know, it’s all true and i wouldn’t change anything. being with you made me happy and everytime i hear your name, i’m reminded of the joyful memories we shared. i have something to tell you, only a few people know. i plan to retire at the end of the 2022 season. it would be nice if you would come to abu dhabi for my last race. i understand if you can’t make it. take care and i love you always. (it’s nothing new at this point)

@hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @woozarts @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict

[logansdoll]

chimichangas

part two of "jim beam"

CW: suggestive, profanity, Blind Al, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, reader is going through some stuff, Logan is an animal, Wade is Wade, etc.

"I see you found my stash," Althea smirked, poorly pouring you another glass of whiskey as you sat down at the table.

"Sorry," you sighed, taking a swig. "If I'd known you could tell, I would've asked."

She cocked a brow with a smirk, and you let out a half-hearted chuckle.

She could read you surprisingly well for a blind woman.

"Yeah, no, I wouldn't."

She smiled as she poured herself her own drink, but when the silence settled, she could tll your expression had fell.

"All right, what's on your mind?" she sighed, almost like an order as she pulled up a chair.

You scoffed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It may have been a while since I've actually talked woman to woman, but I can still tell when something's up," she nodded, taking a sip from her glass. "And judgin' by the way you're downin' that drink, I'd say it's man troubles."

You nearly choked on your liquor, and she let out a quiet chuckle.

"Of course not. It's not him at all," you quickly assured, not wanting the woman to get the wrong idea. "Logan has been amazing. And if anything... it's me troubles."

She smiled, attempting to reach out and touch your hand, but missed.

By a whole lot.

"I'm all ears."

You didn't know what it was, be it her elderly charm or her comforting presence, but something about her just made you feel like spilling your guts.

You sighed, taking a deep breath before deciding to start from the beginning.

"My power allows me to see the future," you looked down at your drink, solemnly. "Be it seconds or minutes or days, you name it, I can see it... so long as my power is activated."

"Okay..." Althea nodded in understandig.

"But that night... the night everything went to shit... I was asleep... I couldn't see the Sentinels coming."

You squeezed your glass, the self-loathing clawing at your throat like an angry tomcat.

"I tried to save the kids... but it wasn't long before everyone was gone... and I was taken captive."

Your voice quaked, hands trembling as fragmented memories of the bloodshed flashed in your mind.

"I can't remember much after that... and Wade won't tell me the details of what happened to me in that laboratory. But after who knows how long in that chamber I'm stuck in this new world with no way to get back to mine and I just can't help but wonder if I'd just been awake that night then maybe... my family would still be alive... my home wouldn't be destroyed..."

You turned to her, eyes glassy as you sniffled.

"My Logan... not so guilty about what happened..."

Althea sighed, her hand finally finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Honey..." she started, her tone warm and forgiving. "Guilt is one of those feelings that feeds on the pain you give it."

Her thumb smoothed over the back of your hand, bringing a sort of grandmotherly comfort to your heart.

"You can't turn back the clock... but you can decide whether you're gonna let this feeling hold you back, or show you the strength you need to keep on living."

You sighed, knowing her words were true, yet still hearing that nagging voice in the back of your mind.

Maybe it's time to leave the past in the past...

"It's Chimichanga Time, bitches!" Wade suddenly exclaimed, bursting through Al's apartment door and striking a pose, waving the take-out bags around theatrically.

"Motherfucker!" Althea jolted, snatching a gun from under the table and taking aim...

Directly at the wall.

Muffling your snickers, you carefully pushed her hand the right way, changing her target to Wade's chest rather than the door frame.

"Jazz hands?" you raised a brow, turning to the man.

"I believe the politically correct term is spirit fingers," he corrected, mater-of-factly. "Times have changed, my dear (y/n). Next thing you know you'll be old Al here a colored."

"The fuck did you just say to me?" Althea exclaimed.

"(n/n)'s words, not mine!"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" Logan groaned, snatching the bags from him and plopping them down on the table. "Eat your damn food and keep fuckin' quiet."

You stood from your chair, walking up to your man and pulling him into a hug.

"Hey, baby," you greeted, resting your head on his chest. "How was your day?"

His shoulders sank under your touch, all the anger melting away as he wrapped his arms around you, placing a tender kiss on your hairline.

"I'm just glad it's over," he sighed, resting his tired head against yours.

It was no secret to anyone that Logan had some serious anxiety when it came to leaving you places by yourself.

And it wasn't that he didn't trust in your ability to handle yourself, but rather he didn't trust the powers that be not to try and fuck his life over for the hundredth time.

Granted, he couldn't really help it when he had to go to work, or assist Wade with his post-breakup, mercenary bullshit...

But that didn't mean he had to like it.

"M'sorry," you cooed, cupping his cheek in your hand. "If you want we can—"

Suddenly, it felt like all the air was snatched out of your lungs, the image of a bunch of thugs flashing in your mind, along with the door being broken down.

It was your first vision since being in the chamber.

"(n/n)?" Logan asked, worry spiking up his chest as he lifted your chin. "You alright?"

'Althea!'

Five seconds...

"GET DOWN!" you shouted, quickly kicking over the table and shoving Al behind it just as the men kicked open the door.

Quickly, Wade grabbed a cast-iron skillet off the stove, slamming it over the head of the first grunt to rush in before using it to deflect a shotgun.

"Behind the couch! Now!" Logan barked, shoving himself in front of you and unsheathing his claws as bullets began ricocheting around the room

You dropped to the ground without argument, army crawling away to safety.

And once you were secure, Logan went off, letting out a roar of anger as he charged into the fight.

They come into his home... in his safe haven... and try and take his reason for living?

Heads. Were. Going. To. Roll.

Wade slid across the kitchen counter under the heavy gunfire, grabbing the knife block before flipping over the edge, tossing a steak knife into a man's neck before finishing him off with a bread knife to the dick.

Logan launched himself at the one with the shotgun, not even flinching as a chunk of his shoulder was blown off, still plunging his claws into the man's chest.

Clocking the grunt coming up behind him, he quickly whipped around, sending an uppercut straight through his head.

Out of nowhere, one of the thugs popped up with an AK-47, completely spraying the couch while Wade handled the dumbass with the baseball bat.

'(Y/N)!'

"RAAAAAAH!" Logan bellowed, furious, as he sprinted toward the one responsible, tanking countless bullets before slicing the gun to pieces and proceeding to absolutely maul the poor bastard.

Wade hit Baseball Douche in the face with the knife block before dodging a swing, stabbing him in the chest with a butcher's knife before turning around and throwing it at the head of a man going for Althea.

But when he whipped around to finish off Baseball Douche, Logan was already there, stabbing him right through the head and spraying blood all over Wade's face.

"Oh, God! Oh, God, time out!" he whined, dropping to his knees as he covered his face. "Got bad guy blood right in my open eye. Oh, that is gross..."

As the dust began to settle, it became eerily quiet, all the enemies seemingly dead.

"(n/n)?" Logan panted, chest heaving and heart panicked as he glanced around. "(y/n)?"

Slowly, you rose from behind the couch, unharmed.

"I'm okay," you assured, a little shaken up, but otherwise alright.

"Althea," Wade sang, wiping his eye with his shirt. "Are you dead?"

"I wish," she groaned, hoisting herself up from behind the table.

Without another word, Logan sped toward you, retracting his claws before pulling you into a bone crushing embrace—one you reciprocated with just as, if not more, relief.

"I thought I lost you again," he exhaled, relishing the way you felt in his arms, hands sliding all over you to squeeze what could've been taken away from him.

"I'm right here, Logan," you cooed, carding your hand through his scruffy hair as he nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing in your scent. "I'm right here..."

Though, unknowingly to the other, you both were going through your own forms of consolation.

You had protected your family from a tragedy you couldn't before.

He had saved you from the fate that befell countless others from his past.

Both were beginning to realize that maybe this new life really could be different.

Working together to protect and save one another...

Learning to love without fear of separation...

Forgiving the past mistakes that made you who you are today...

Growth that could only be attributed to absolute trust in each other.

"Heyo!" Wade gasped, a smile stretching on his face as he stared at the ground. "The Chimichanga Gods have spoken."

The rest of you turned to face him, watching as he fished a bloody take-out bag out from under the body of a dead man—who looked like he had mush for a face.

"Tonight... we feast."

"You are fucking disgusting."

[berzahoes]

manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

[13uswntimagines]

Eras of Us- Era 3: Ugh Oh, I'm Falling in Love (Taylor Swift X Morgan!Reader)

Eras of Us master list

This is the Era where they're falling in love, learning more about each other, and how to navigate their relationships with their friends and families.

warning- Sexual content in this chapter.

Author's note: Hey everyone, i'm so sorry this took so long. theres just a lot of stuff in this chapter that i really wanted to get right. I hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think. comments are literally my favorite thing.

February 2017 'Cause you could be the one that I love I could be the one that you dream of

As it turned out, being Taylor’s girlfriend was far easier than you imagined it would be. It wasn’t all that much different than when the two of you were just friends, actually. 

You two still texted continuously, now each message was dotted with a heart or a little kiss. You two still talked on the phone all of the time, though you had developed a bad habit of falling asleep on late-night calls with her. 

The only thing that had really changed was that now the photos you sent her were slightly more… suggestive on purpose. 

And now you actually got to kiss her, which was fun, except you had barely seen her since you two started dating. 

Between the holidays and dealing with your shitty agent about yet another fucked up trade, you hadn’t had time to fly to her, and she had been tied up with her family and recording her new album to fly to you. But the two of you made due (ie falling asleep on the phone with her nearly every night). 

It still sucked you wouldn’t get to see her until after January camp. At least you only had 1 more game to play in. 

“Hurry up you two,” Rose called over her shoulder, idly swinging Emily’s hand next to her. 

You groaned, adjusting your grip on Mal’s legs as her arms squeezed more tightly around your neck. “It’s not my fault this koala demanded a piggyback ride,” 

Mal had been insanely clingy since the start of camp, draping herself all over you at every opportunity. It wasn’t something you noticed at first, but it had become so constant, that it was beginning to grate on your patience. 

Especially after she interrupted you every time you tried to talk to Taylor. The only moment you had gotten alone was at 3 am, and you had been too drowsy to do more than stare at her. 

“I’m not that heavy ducky,” Mal hugged, pinching your ear. 

“No, but it’s been like 2 miles,” You huffed, tilting your head away from her, and picking up your pace so you were even with Rose and Emily. 

Emily rolled her eyes at you. “And whose fault is that?” 

You shrugged as much as you could with Mal on your back. “Cheney said they have the best mochas,”

“And it’ll make it very hard for Alex to beat you this week,” Rose snorted, gesturing towards the shiny watch on your wrist. “If you’re gonna make us take a hike to a coffee shop, you should at least be honest with why we’re taking it,” 

“She should be more active in her rest time,” You said, earning another eye roll as the four of you finally made it to the cafe Cheney had mentioned when you talked to her over the holidays. 

It was just a bonus that Alex would need to find 4 extra exercise miles to match you in her stupid little app. It’s what she had done to you with Kelley’s family’s stupid 10 mile Christmas morning hike after all. You had to go on a beach run to make up for it. 

“Or maybe you should be less competitive,” Emily grumbled, holding the door open for you and Mal to walk through. Her gaze stayed glued out the door even after you stepped through. 

You rolled your eyes. “And what fun would that be?” 

You dropped Mal’s legs as you got in line next to Rose, and she landed on her feet, but she didn’t let go of your neck like you had hoped she would.

“We would be behind in the practice scrimmages against the vets too,” You added as you turned your attention to the menu above the cashier. 

There weren’t any… normal drinks. They all had fancy names, so you had to read the description to figure out what the fuck it was. You sighed internally, deciding that you absolutely shouldn’t have listened to Cheney, because long complicated descriptions like delectable dark roast, mixed with Dutch hand-made chocolate ganache, and essence of citrus aurantium topped with creamy dreamy whipped cream and powdered orange blossoms: written out in small, tight together cursive was going to take you forever to decipher. 

Especially with the way all the L’s and E’s kept flipping places, and how Mal kept shifting your entire body each time she moved. 

You were going to have a headache by the time you actually made it through the menu. 

“Ok, those guys are totally following us,” 

You blinked in the direction of Emily’s voice, and away from the migraine-inducing menu. You followed her hand to where she was pointing at two men wearing aviators sitting at a stable near the back of the café. 

The one facing you was older, with dark salt and pepper hair, wearing a leather jacket, while the other was younger and blonde with his back to you. 

It made you roll your eyes again. 

Tony and Zach had been your shadows since you and Taylor started dating. You saw them outside your apartment building in Chicago, and ran into them everywhere you went, even when you attended a Bears game against the Chiefs. 

You could tell that they were trying to be discrete since you had brought up the issue with Taylor the first week you noticed them, but it was still annoying that she wouldn’t budge on her stance. 

“I’ll take care of it,” You grumbled, carefully untangling yourself from Mal’s grasp, ignoring the high-pitched whine she let out at being displaced. “Just order me the closest thing to a mocha please,” 

At least now you didn’t have to read the menu. 

You ignored the feeling of their eyes on your back as you walked up to the table your two bodyguards were sitting at, knocking on the wood when you were close enough. “I thought I made it clear that I don’t need a babysitter,”

“I prefer the term watchman,” Tony hummed, barely even looking at you. 

Zach nodded. “Watchmen is a much better term,” 

You glared at the blonde man, before turning back to Tony. “I prefer that you don’t follow me around and creep out my friends,” 

Tony paused, lifting a finger to shift his aviators down to the end of his nose so he could peer at you over the rim of them. “We’ll try to be more discreet,” 

You shook your head. “No. You will stop following me,” 

“Can’t. Bosses orders,” Tony shrugged, readjusting his aviators back over his eyes. “And frankly, the team doesn’t have enough security,” 

Your glare deepened. “Because no one knows who the fuck we are,” 

“Still, I shouldn’t have been able to get your room number from the front desk receptionist,” He countered. “or have Zach get into the changing room at the practice field,”

“Normal people don’t do that shit,” You grit back.

His point proved nothing. 

No fan was trying to sneak into your locker room to leave notes in your cubby and no other people had interest in your room number. 

Sure, the note and the peanut butter cookies Taylor had delivered to your room were cool, but two men staking out every place you went certainly was not. Not when Emily wouldn’t shut up about your mysterious friend being in the mob because now you had people following you. 

She couldn’t give up on the angle, going so far that even Mal was annoyed with her. 

You had been annoyed 5 weeks ago when she brought the idea up for the first time during New Year's when she spotted them after you came out of a fried chicken place in Atlanta. 

Tony sighed, fixing his leather jacket.“If you're really insistent about this, you know who you need to take it up with. Otherwise, I think Ms. Sonnett, Ms. Pugh, and Ms. Lavelle have finished ordering,” 

It irritated you that he always referred to your friends so formally, even if he had never met them. 

“I will,” You grit out, already pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Because you two are ridiculous,” 

Tony made a face, dipping his aviators to peer at you again. “And Taylor is ridiculous for caring about your safety?”

You opened and closed your mouth several times. That wasn’t fair. 

Tony slid his glasses back into place as a waitress brought them 2 coffees. 

Your jaw clenched and you didn’t your best not to glare at the smug way he sipped the steaming glass. You hadn’t even seen them order. 

“Your friends have chosen a table,” He hummed, tilting his head to where Emily, Mal, and Rose were all staring at you with wide eyes. 

“This isn’t the end of this conversation,” You muttered, grabbing one of the 3 chocolate chip cookies that had been delivered with their coffee. 

“We will try to be more discreet,” Zach said, passing you a napkin. 

You took a bite of your cookie. “You better,” 

“We’ll do our best,” Tony chuckled, gesturing towards your friends with his chin again. “Go enjoy your overly fancy coffee,”

You made a low noise, turning on your heel and heading back over to your friends, who were overtly staring at the men now. 

“You’re in the mob right?” Emily asked before you were even fully seated in the chair next to Mal. 

You didn’t reply, instead breaking the cookie into 3 and passing the larger part to Rose for her and Emily to share and the other to Mal, who was already wrapping herself around you again. 

“Emily stop,” The forward whined loudly in your ear as she took the cookie. 

“Oh come on, just answer the question,” Emily said, her lips pulling into a teasing grin. “it’s totally obvious,”

“I’m not in the mob,” You grumbled, taking a sip of your coffee and frowning. 

You liked mochas, they were your go-to order, but this one had caramel in it, and was far too sweet. You would drink it anyway though, because one of your friends had paid for it. 

Rose leaned forward in her chair, resting crossed arms on the table in front of her conspiratorially. “Then why was our coffee already paid for?”

You frowned, your cup hitting the table with a low thud. “What?”

“I gave them my name and she said someone had already paid for us,” Rose said, her voice low. 

Your eyebrows pulled more tightly together. “Who?”

“Someone named Athena,” Rose wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you rolled your eyes. 

It had been Taylor. Of course, it was her, she had even sent the goons she had following you coffees and an extra cookie. 

Of course that was the name Taylor used. 

She had been making fun of her nickname since she found out that it was her contact name in her phone, and you blushed through your explanation that she was a goddess and the smartest person you knew. 

“See, totally a mob boss name,” Emily said accusingly, gesturing wildly with her hands. “who else would call themselves Athena,”

You were afraid that if you rolled your eyes again they would fall out of your head, so you refrained. 

No matter how good it would have felt. 

You pulled away from Mal and wrestled your phone out of your pocket. You flipped to your messages, ignoring the one aptly named Athena for now, opening the thread you shared with Alex to get it to stop buzzing. 

Alexandria🐬: Did you have to walk to a coffee shop across the city? Haven’t you ever heard of an Uber?

MiniMorgs: Wanted to get some fresh air, and Cheney recommended it

Alexandria🐬: More like you wanted to win this week’s challenge. Was it worth the walk?

MiniMorgs: I didn’t have to read the overly complicated menu, so yes. #dyslexic problems

Alexandria🐬: LoL. Maybe we should get you yellow-tinted glasses to help with that

MiniMorgs: Whatever. Good luck catching up on miles

Alexandria🐬:🖕🏻

Another coffee cup landed in front of you with a clink, and you blinked up from your phone at the waitress. 

You frowned up at her. “Ugh, thanks?” 

You hadn’t ordered another coffee. 

“The person who paid for your order also asked us to make an extra mocha, no caramel, no whipped cream, and no sweetening syrup,” The young girl explained quickly, her hands fidgeting in front of her. “it also comes with a heart and a little winky face,” 

“Oh, thanks,” You sent her a genuine smile, the dimple on your left cheek poking out just a bit. 

She blushed.

“No problem,” she said, turning away from you and your friends very quickly before practically running back to the counter. 

You didn’t watch her as she left, instead sipping your new coffee and sighing in content. 

It was exactly what you wanted. The perfect cup of coffee if you did say so yourself. 

You glanced back down at your phone, flipping through your messages to the one labeled Athena👸🏼

Thanks for the coffee. It’s much better than the sugary shit Emily ordered.

“Do you have to flirt with every woman you see?” Mal scoffed, placing more of her weight on you as she draped her arms over your shoulders. 

You grunted, slipping your phone in your pocket and adjusting in your seat so she didn’t knock you over. “I wasn’t flirting, I was just being nice,” 

You practically felt her roll her eyes as Emily snorted across from you. 

“What? I was!” You bit out, your voice dripping in incredulity. 

“You used the smile you use when you’re trying to get into someone’s pants,” Mal hummed, her lips caressing the shell of your ear as her hand dipped its way under the hem of your Alexia Putellas Barça jersey.  “I would know,” 

You jerked away from her, nearly spilling your coffee. Your chair squeaked as you pushed away, creating space between the two of you. 

You didn’t want her touching you. 

Not like you had in the past. 

There was a time when you craved her touch. Where you twisted yourself into knots to be worthy of her affection. 

You allowed yourself to get closer to her than you had to anyone else, and in the end she had decided that you still weren’t good enough. 

She decided that you would never be good enough for her. Not like Dansby was. But even after that you had pined after every little scrap of care she sent you, and you allowed yourself to believe that it was all you deserved. 

That it was real.

Even in your short time with Taylor, you knew that real was something very different.  She didn’t make you feel like you were always making up for something. Like you had to earn her care. 

She made you feel worthy and had butterflies flapping in your chest. She made you feel seen, even before you were together, and you wouldn’t do anything to put that in jeopardy. 

“Whoa, easy there,” Emily chuckled. “Didn't think you were so sensitive to the mention of your history,” 

You shifted uncomfortably, fixing the edge of your jersey. 

“Just tickled me,” You muttered, taking another sip of your coffee as Mal didn’t even hesitate to wrapped herself around you again. 

You ignored the knowing look Rose sent you, and cleared your throat. “We should probably head back though. Think you can walk on your own this time?” 

You gently elbowed Mal, sending Emily a cheeky grin when she wiggled her eyebrows. 

Mal sighed heavily, her lips returning to near your ear. “I don’t think so. I think I still need a piggyback,”

You huffed at her pouted words, shoving your extra coffee cup into her hands as you stood. “You have to carry the cups though,” 

“Deal!” She cheered, already trying to climb on your back. 

You didn’t have the heart (or the stomach) to tell her that you didn’t want to carry her back. You couldn’t when it made her light up so much. 

“You’re such a pushover,” Rose muttered as she held the café door open for you. 

You shrugged as much as you could with Mal on your back.

You were a people pleaser to your core, and you couldn’t help that. Mal was your friend and you liked to make her happy. 

Taylor would understand. 

*****

You were sweating your ass off by the time you made it back to the team hotel, and your legs felt like you had just played 90 minutes. 

You supposed walking 4 miles with a fully grown forward on your back would do that to you, and the detours Emily kept taking because of the “Mob Guys” following you made the journey more like 6. Dawn was not going to be pleased, and you felt like you needed a recovery day to recover from your recovery day. 

You dropped Mal’s legs as you stepped into the welcome AC of the lobby, ignoring her yelp at the move. 

“I’m done being your pack Mule,” You muttered, breathing hard. “Use your own damn legs,”

“Not a mule. A graceful stallion,” Mal hummed, leaning in and placing a kiss on your cheek before she skipped off. “Thanks for the ride,” 

She missed your eye roll.  But Kelley didn’t. “Coming on a bit strong, isn't she?” 

You blinked at Kelley, pulling your sunglasses up to rest in your wavy curls, taking in the way she was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Don’t they always?” 

“You didn't have a friends-with-benefits relationship with most of the people who hit on you,” Kelley shrugged. 

You made a sound low in your throat, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m not interested in continuing that,” 

You didn’t know she knew about that.

“I know,” Kelley nodded, her hand landing warm and grounding on your shoulder. “You’re interested in burrito girl,” 

You hummed. 

You were more than just interested in Taylor, and Kelley knew that. She had been getting regular updates after she talked you off the ledge the morning after, and it was kinda nice to get to share with someone. 

Kelley shifted again, and you scratched harder at the back of your neck as a very uncomfortable silence settled over you. 

“I didn’t bring you coffee,” You said, finally looking at her. 

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. She was spinning the ring on her forefinger more rapidly than you had ever seen, and shifting like she was… nervous. 

“I know,” She said, her eyes flicking up to meet your blue before rapidly looking away. “Can we chat though?” 

You frowned. “What’s up?” 

Kelley bit her lip and led you over to an isolated meeting room, closing the door behind you. 

She took a steadying breath like she was stealing herself as she turned to look at you. “I’m going to ask your sister to marry me,” 

You stared at her, your mouth dropping open at her words. 

She was going to ask your sister to marry her. 

Her and Alex were going to get married. 

But weren’t they practically married already? They had been together since you were 10. They lived together, had 2 dogs and were actively looking for a team to transfer to together. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised, but you were.  So you did what you always did when you were caught off guard. 

You painted a playful smirk on your face, wiggling your eyebrows. “Alex right? Because I don’t think Jen or Jerry will react well,” 

Kelley sighed. “I’m being serious. We’ve been together for almost 7 years. I love her,” 

You raised an eyebrow at her, your smirk melting a little. “Ok, and?” 

She spun her ring a little faster. “I’m not asking your permission, but-“

“You want my blessing or some shit?” You cut her off, your eyebrows furrowing impossibly deeper. “Jesus Kell, her and I haven’t had a proper conversation since I was like 12. My opinion doesn’t matter,”

You actively avoided conversations with your sister. She barely knew anything about the adult version of yourself. 

There was no way she could care what you thought about her marrying Kelley. 

Kelley shook her head, closing the distance between you and catching your hand. “I think your opinion is one of the only ones she cares about,” 

Her voice went very soft, and you swallowed hard. You weren’t at a place to consider what she meant. You couldn't deal with all of the baggage that came with the implications. 

Yes, you were fairly content to interact with her through the stupid app the two of you competed on, but that was nothing deeper than just that. A competition. 

It didn’t mean anything. Not like Kelley was assuming it meant. 

You shook your head, swallowing down your feelings and locking them into a little box in the center of your chest. 

“She might be my sister, but I’ll kick her ass if she hurts you. Or says no, even though she’s not going to say no. She loves you. I guess I’ll kick your ass too if you hurt her so don’t,” You said softly, drawing up the courage to meet Kelley’s eyes again. 

A brilliant smile broke across her face, and her eyes lit up like the two of you had just won the World Cup. “I promise I won’t kid,” 

“Good,” You ran a hand through your hair, sucking in a long breath through your nose. “Is there anything else?”

“Don’t you want to know how I’m going to do it?” Kelley asked, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. 

Maybe a part of you cared about whatever romantic thing Kelley had planned for her, but the larger part just… wasn’t interested.  It wasn’t like you were involved in Alex’s life. You didn’t get to see the ins and outs of her relationship with Kelley, and that was your own choice. If you got too close, you knew you would get hurt. 

You had before anyway. 

“As long as it’s not during or directly after sex, I think it’ll be fine,” You huffed out, covering your wavering curiosity. 

Kelley rolled her eyes. “I’m going to do it when we go to New York. I have a reservation for the top of the Empire State Building,”

“That’ll be pretty,” You hummed, your voice going soft. 

You knew how much your older sister loved city lights. It was nearly as much as she loved to look at the stars. 

When the two of you were young, you would sit on the roof outside of her window for hours staring at the sky, naming the constellations. It was what got you so into Greek mythology after all. You wondered if she still remembered all of the stories. 

“She loves the lights,” Kelley agreed, watching you carefully. “We’re going to have dinner after. Jen and Jerrie will be there,” 

You nodded. “I’ll be there too,” 

“Excellent,” Kelley’s smile just got wider. 

“Yeah,” You said, trailing off and looking towards the door. “I told Alyssa I’d watch film with her before the game tomorrow, so are we done?” 

Kelley chuckled, not at all surprised that you wanted to escape this conversation. “Wouldn’t want to keep the head of the Department of Defense waiting,” 

You always pulled away when your family was mentioned, and that habit was only magnified when emotions were also involved. 

“Nope,” You muttered, practically running towards the door. 

She wished things were different.

Alex was making the steps to bridge the gap in your relationship, and for the first time in a long time, you seemed willing to meet her halfway.  Neither of them were sure exactly what had caused the rift, or why you had always been so… reluctant to let her fix it. Or to talk about it in general.

She hoped that the little steps would actually lead to something this time.  She hoped that you would let your walls down. She hoped that you would actually let yourself be happy. 

*****

Rain pounded down around you as you tracked the ball across midfield. 

Games like this were your favorite. 

The USWNT was up by 4 and there was only 30 seconds of stoppage time left. You had a goal and 2 assists and you had played incredibly well. It was 75 degrees so the rain was like the mist from a shower, warm and comfortable. 

It let you take your mind off of the stupid phone call that had come just before you loaded up the bus to head to the stadium. It drowned out Roary Dame’s voice explaining that you were a great play, just not what they needed. 

Explaining that he had put your name in the trading block for the highest draft pick they could get. So they could finally have their star striker because you were the wrong Morgan for that. 

This game made you feel… good. It made you feel powerful. 

You smiled at Sam as she came to a stop beside you. 

Alex and Mal were getting ready to take a time-wasting corner to end the game, and you and Sam were just there in case Jamaica got a counter opportunity. 

“Emily says you’re in the mob now,” She said conversationally. “And that you have two huge dudes following you around,” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mob,” 

“But you do have 2 dudes following you,” She asked, tilting her head to the mouth of the tunnel where Zach and Tony were huddled under an umbrella. 

They were right, it was kinda scary how far they could get without any real security clearance. They shouldn’t have been able to get into the stadium, much less on the field, but here they were. 

“I have a very overprotective friend,” You muttered as the ref blew the signature three whistles to signal the end of the game. You paused before you ran off.

Taylor wasn’t your friend, she was something much much more. You didn’t feel right calling her a friend. 

You turned back to Sam, scratching the wet hairs off the back of your neck. “Well, a very protective more than a friend,” 

A smile broke across her features, and you couldn’t help but match it.  “Don’t mention that to anyone though,” You added, suddenly nervous that she would tell the team, and then the rumor mill would start.

You weren’t ready to answer questions about Taylor yet. Or to listen to your teammates tease you. You also didn’t want to share her yet. 

Sam winked at you. “Your secret is safe with me,” 

“Thanks,” You said, heading towards the tunnel, pausing at a young girl waving a soaked-through Morgan sign a few feet away from the tunnel. 

You could see a big 13 painted on the sign, so you knew it wasn’t meant for you, but still it was your name too. 

“Hey, I like your sign,” You hummed, flashing the girl a million-dollar smile, ignoring the phones pointed in your direction. “Even if it has the wrong number on it,” 

The girl blushed deeply. “I like you too. I just wasn’t sure what number you would be wearing,” 

It was a good excuse, you thought. Or it would have been over a year ago before you made the switch to number 12. 

You hated when they pretended to give a shit about you just because you were the one standing in front of them. You knew the only Morgan they really cared about was your sister, and you wished they would just own it. 

“Well thank ya,” You winked, ignoring her little lie. “I know it’s just because she’s a striker. Everyone loves a good goal scorer,” 

The red in the girl's cheeks got even more pronounced, and your grin turned slightly wolfish. She didn’t hear the bitter note in your voice. 

Everyone wanted the star striker, something you would never be. 

“Do you have something you want me to sign?” 

The girl shook her head, looking at her friend who also shook her head. The girl looked back at you, biting her lip. 

“Can I get your jersey?” She asked hesitantly, and your smirk only got wider. 

“I think I can do one better,” You said, turning back towards the field. Your eyes roved over the players until you found the one you were looking for. 

“Hey Al,” You called out, cupping your hands over your face to amplify the sound. 

Her head snapped in your direction, and you waved her over. You tried not to let it bother you that the girl's squeals got so much louder as she jogged over, a questioning smile on her face. 

“What’s up?” She asked as soon as she was close enough, and you could hear the slight surprise in her voice. It was one of the first times you had actually spoken to her since last camp.

You tilted your head towards the fans beside you. “You’ve got a fan and you owe me because I beat you 5 weeks in a row,” 

“And?” She raised an eyebrow at you. 

“I’m cashing in,” You said, again tilting your head towards the fans. “She would like your jersey,” 

Alex never took her eyes off of you as she stripped off her soaked-through jersey, and passed it to the girl. It was like she was trying to figure out what you were thinking.  But she had lost the ability to read your mind years ago. 

“Thanks,” You said, flashing her a grin and turning back towards the girl. “Now you’ve got the jersey you actually want,” 

Alex’s lips pulled downward at the sarcasm in your tone, hidden by false cheeriness. It was the same tone you used when something was annoying you, but you didn’t know how (or have the courage) to vocalize it. 

“Oh my god, thank you!” The girl cheered, looking at Alex instead of at you. 

“Both of you,” She added quickly when Alex raised an eyebrow at her. 

You waved her off, throwing a “No worries,” over your shoulder as you headed towards the tunnel to get out of the rain. 

Alex waved at the girls too, sending them a smile before jogging off after you. There was something so… off about that interaction, and she wasn’t willing to let it go anymore. 

Her and Kelley had discussed it, and while she understood the defender's advice to not push you. To let you come to her, she was tired of waiting. 

The texting was nice, but it didn’t carry over to your real-life interactions and that was… frustrating. It wasn’t getting her anywhere. 

She caught your arm as you rounded the corner to the locker room, spinning you on the spot and stepping into your space so you were pinned against the cold concrete wall of the tunnel, unable to run away this time. 

“What the fuck was that all about?” She asked, keeping her voice level, even though the two of you were nose to nose. 

Your eyes flashed up to meet hers, identical blue boring into yours. It made you feel like she could see into your soul. Like you were naked in front of her.  You so badly wanted to look away but you couldn’t.

“She had a Morgan sign with a huge 13 on it, so I went to say hello,” You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but Alex saw through it. “And they asked for a jersey, but I knew it wasn’t mine they wanted,”

There was something in your voice, in your posture that she couldn’t place. 

“But they asked you for it?” She pressed, and your eyes flicked away from her as you gave her a barely perceptible nod. 

“It would have been a consolation prize. They wanted yours,” You said, twisting your arm free and finally squeezing out from where you were trapped. “Everyone always wants yours,”

You muttered the last part under your breath as you tried to make your way down the hallway, but Alex heard you anyway. 

She again caught your arm before you could walk away, again spinning you around to face her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing Alex,” You grumbled, shaking your head and again breaking her hold on you. “Just drop it,”

“No. I will not drop it,” She bit back, not letting you walk away from her. “I’ve been dropping it since you were 10 and look where it’s gotten us. I can’t fix something if I don’t understand what’s wrong,” 

It was as if she let you leave. If she let you go before she understood you would be gone for good. You would lose the progress you had made. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Fix it?” 

What did Alex mean that she wanted to fix it? She didn’t have a Time Machine. 

“Yes. Fix it,” She said, fighting to keep her volume low and her tone even. You didn’t respond well to exasperation. “We were so close and now it’s like we can’t even stand each other. I don’t want us to be this tense for the rest of our lives,” 

You stared at her like she had 3 heads. There was nothing that she could do. No magic wand she could wave to change it. 

The world preferred her over you, and they probably always would. You had learned from the time you were small that you weren’t worth as much as Alex was. You were invisible when she was there. You accepted it. The only person who didn’t make you feel that way was Taylor.

You shook your head. “There is nothing to fix Alex. You can’t do anything. Now let me go,” 

Her face fell, and something broke in her eyes. It made your heart hurt, but it was the truth. 

You twisted your arm out of her grasp and turned on your heel heading into the locker room. Alex stared after you, something you said gnawing in her brain. 

Everyone always wants yours

It was nearly as bad as the “Now that everyone is watching you care. Now when it’s convenient” you gave her on the practice field in November. 

She wasn’t sure what had happened between the two of you, or why you were so… frustratingly stubborn about allowing her to build a bridge over the mile-wide gap between you. 

Your attitude shifting was also giving her whiplash. You seemed so… open over text. So willing to interact.  She didn’t know how to navigate it all, and it seemed that you weren’t at all willing to help her. 

“You good?” 

Alex jumped at Kelley’s voice in her ear and gentle hands on her shoulders. 

“No,” she shook her head, relaxing back into the defender's grasp. 

Kelley hummed, and placed a kiss just below her ear, soothing her. “What happened?”

“Y/n called me over to give a girl my jersey, and then told her that she had the one she actually wanted,” Alex explained, frustration evident in her voice. “and when I asked, she told me that everyone always wants mine,” 

“Al, we talked about this,” Kelley sighed, as your sister pulled away from her. 

“I know,” Alex grumbled running a frustrated hand through her soaked hair. 

They had many conversations about it. They both agreed that the best move was to take it slow. To let you dictate the pace, but neither of them expected you to be so… passive-aggressive. 

Not when you let people push you too far because you didn’t know how to set limits, or you just pretended like they didn’t exist. 

She didn’t know how to act when you went out of your way to interact with her and then tried to run away. 

“But we never accounted for this,” She gestured wildly towards the locker room door. “She called me over,” 

“And then you chased after her,” Kelley countered. “Because she told you a snippet of what’s bothering her that is supposed to make sense, but it doesn’t because you don’t have context. And you need to understand. I know,” 

“She said I can’t fix it, Kell,” Alex’s voice finally broke, and Kelley was quick to pull the striker into her chest as her shoulders shook. “What am I supposed to do?” 

Kelley closed her eyes, resting her cheek on the top of Alex’s head, holding her tightly. 

She could see it from your side. 

Alex had spent years unsure of how to bridge the ever-widening gap between you. You had spent years being compared to her, being crucified by the media for not being her, so it made sense for you to be wary. For you to try and protect yourself.  What didn’t make sense was the hot and cold way you were going about it. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Kelley said, holding your sister together as she crumbled. “But we need to take this at her pace. And that means one step at a time,”

*****

Slipping out of the locker room undetected was far easier than you expected it to be, but then again you had retreated to the showers long before most of the team was even off of the field. You hadn’t been planning to escape, but when the text came through on your phone, it was a no-brainer. 

You smiled widely as you made the final turn down the tunnel, revealing Taylor leaning up against the large Visitors sign texting. “Fancy meeting you here, I thought you had album stuff,” 

“Heard you didn’t like my henchmen,” She smirked, pushing herself off the wall and meeting you halfway. “So I thought I’d come to check on you myself,”

You nearly fell with the force of the hug, burying your face in her neck and squeezing her tightly to you. “I don’t like the henchmen. I don’t need babysitters,”

She hummed, leaning back just enough to look you in the eyes and brushing your wet curls out of your eyes. “You don’t need babysitters, but you do need protection. Let me be a little overprotective of you,” 

You could feel her breath on your lips, and you couldn’t help but lean in and connect your mouths. Your hands slipped into the back pocket of her jeans and you squeezed lightly. 

It was slightly scary how addicted to her you were. How you craved her touch. 

She made a low sound in the back of her throat. One of her hands hooked into the hem of your sweats, and the other wove into the short curls at the back of your neck, pulling you tighter to her. 

You stumbled forward molding yourself to her, as the kiss changed. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, running against yours, and you could feel her desire. 

It didn’t surprise you. You knew what she wanted. What she expected. It was the same thing that every girl expected from you, so you just let it happen. 

You let her pull you into the closet (unsure of how it appeared out of thin air, or where her shirt had suddenly disappeared to), pushing her against the only wall not covered in athletic equipment, and pinning her there with your hips. 

Your lips dragged across her neck, and you longed to pull the velvety skin into your mouth. To place a mark, a claim out in the open where everyone could see. But you didn’t. 

You trailed down to her collarbone, skimming your teeth along it as your hand slid into her pants, past her underwear, and through her warm wetness. 

You couldn’t help the smirk that graced your features. “Is this all for me?” 

“You’re hot when you play,” She keened as you teased at her entrance, gathering her slick on your middle finger. “And even hotter when you’re drenched and you kept pulling your shirt off to wipe the rain out of your eyes,” 

You hummed, tracing her lower lips and brushing your middle finger across her clit. Her hips jolted, knocking into your thigh and it reminded you of how players always fought you for ball possession. 

How they would press back into you while you tried to tap it through their legs. How they always bucked back to keep you from picking their pocket. 

Taylor’s head hit the wall, and you worked your lips back up her neck, lingering on the underside of her jaw. “Please y/n,”

You hummed, dragging your teeth along her chin, and slipping your finger inside. She was warm and tight, squeezing your fingers as you dragged them against her walls. 

Her hand tightened in the short curls at the base of your neck, while the other clawed at the bare skin of your shoulders. 

She tasted like sweat and rain, and something just so Taylor. 

It was like the sun on your face during the perfect practice, using your arm to wipe the sweat off your upper lip after you sank a ball past one of the keepers.  It was like your teammates pulling you into tight hugs, running their fingers through your hair after you scored on a scorching summer day, their hands slipping through yours as they headed back to their starting positions. 

She shuddered against you as you curled your fingers, finding the spongy patch inside of her, and you carefully ran your teeth across the special spot right below her ear. 

It made you feel… powerful to have her so on edge already.  Nearly as powerful as when you were 5 goals up on a team, or when a player couldn’t make it past you in midfield. 

“Y/n,” 

It was like playing with Mal, and how you knew where she was going to be before she moved, so you could pull the opposing players and set her up for a goal. 

Except it was better. It was what you imagined scoring in the World Cup would feel like. Or assisting in a goal. 

“Y/n,” Taylor panted, using the hand in your hair to tug you away from her neck. 

“What baby?” you asked, glassy eyes blinking blearily up at her as you again curled your fingers. 

Her head fell back and hit the wall with a thump.  “Oh my god,” She moaned low in her throat, fighting to get out whatever she was saying. She swallowed hard, her hands keeping you from continuing your ministrations. “The door,” 

As if on cue, three loud rasps sounded from the door just to your left. “I know you’re in there Y/n. We need to talk. Now,”

Your head fell forward and landed heavily on Taylor’s shoulder as you let out a groan at Kelley’s voice. “One second,”

Why did she always have to pick the wrong moment? 

You pulled back, meeting Taylor’s eyes. “Just stay here,” 

She nodded, sucking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from her, and ran your hand through your hair, trying to straighten your ever-messy curls. Your other hand fixed your rumpled shirt, and she frowned.  She could have sworn you took yours off when you devested her of hers. 

You opened the door just a crack, pushing your head out and glaring at Kelley. “What? I’m busy,”

Her eyebrows were pulled tightly together, a frown firmly set in her features. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You felt Taylor’s hand on the top of your back, warm and heavy, comforting in a way you weren’t sure you would ever really deserve. 

“A lot of things,” You grumbled, shifting so Kelley couldn’t get a good look inside the closet.  “I’ll need more information to give you a more defined answer,” 

Her eyes narrowed. “You told Alex that she couldn’t fix it between you,” 

“She can’t,” You shrugged. “Are we done?” 

“No,” Kelley bit back, her hand finding the door to prevent you from slamming it closed. “Not until you talk to your sister and fix this shit,” 

You were already shaking your head. “Talking is not something that Alex and I do,”

Kelley snorted. “But you’ll text,” 

You shrank a little at her tone. 

The texting was different. It was safer, more controlled. She wasn’t close enough to hurt you. You needed that distance. 

You felt a hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles at the point that always grew so tense when you were stressed. 

You let out a breath. “That’s different. We only text when one of us is winning,” 

“Is it?” Kelley pressed, unwilling to let it go.  “Because from the outside, it looks like you share more than just your exercise routine,” 

The hand grew more insistent, and you closed your eyes. “I don’t want to argue with you,”

You could understand why Kelley was upset. She was protective over the people she loved, and while you knew she cared for you, it was nothing compared to how much she loved your sister. She would always choose Alex over you. 

And that was ok. It would be weird if it wasn’t that way. 

“No, you just want to get back to your quick fuck,”

Kelley's mouth twisted around the words, and it felt like a knife slipping into your chest. 

You flushed red, and a hand caught the back of your collar as you jerked forward. “Don’t call her that,” 

You knew what your reputation was, but you never expected Kelley to try and use it against you. Taylor was far more than a quick fuck. You cared about her more than you cared about nearly anyone. 

his was why you hadn’t told Kelley yet. 

Kelley took a step back, sucking in a calming breath through her nose. “Look, all I’m saying is that you need to cut Alex some slack. It’s not fair for her with your hot and cold routine. You at least have to meet her halfway,” 

“I’m trying,” You sighed, running a hand through your wild curls. “What else do you want from me when my own team is fucking trading me because I’ll never be the striker that she is,”

Kelley frowned. “What?”

“Those kids said they didn’t know my number because it was new. I changed it over a year ago. They didn’t have anything for me to sign, because they didn’t want my signature. They wanted Alex. Everyone always wants Alex, and that’s not something she can fix,” You explained, your voice going soft and… honest. “I wasn’t being cruel. I was being honest,”

“Oh,” Kelley’s frown deepened, as your comment to Alex suddenly made sense. 

The fans had lied to you when you were already hurt from the trade. They made you feel more unwanted. 

“Yeah oh,” You said, running another hand through your hair. “We text when one of us is winning. That’s our relationship, so just leave it. Is there anything else?” 

Kelley shook her head and cleared her throat. “Bus leaves in 30,”

You painted a smirk across your features.

“Cool, I’ll see you in 29 then,” You said, as you slammed the door, and turned to lean against it. You slid down until you were seated, drawing your knees to your chest and letting your head fall against it with a low thump. “Fuck me,”

Why did Kelley always have to make things difficult?

Sure she was kinda right, but why did she have to remind you of that and get you to admit why you were upset? It was so infuriating that she wouldn’t let you keep her at arm's length. 

“I would but I don’t think that’ll help,” Taylor chuckled, settling down beside you, resting a hand on your knee. 

You groaned, blinking at her. You had nearly forgotten she was there. And that she was shirtless…“You’d be surprised. There’s something very… freeing about losing yourself in someone else,” 

There was something freeing in having all of a woman’s attention. Of you just being enough for them even if it was only for a moment. Of having something Alex never had, and of being in the only situation where you couldn’t be compared to her (though a few girls had mused about it afterward, it’s why you started skipping the after-cuddling). 

Taylor made a low noise, shaking her head. “I think talking will help you more in the long run,” 

You shrugged. You didn’t want to argue with her. 

“I’m sorry Kelley interrupted before you could…you know…” You blushed deeply, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. You couldn’t say the word orgasm. 

Taylor frowned, her thumb pausing on the inside of your knee. “Y/n,” 

You didn’t stop though. You didn’t let her ask you the hard question. 

“I’m surprised the goon squad didn’t stop them, especially since your goons are here too,”  You said, scratching your neck, and tugging off your sweatshirt by the hood. “Here,” 

You passed her the item, watching with rapt attention as she pulled it on, and her abs flexed.

“Jason is getting the car, and Tony is at the end of the hall,” She hummed, doing the button on her pants once your hoodie was on. “I don’t really like having an audience,”

You wiggled your eyebrows, painting a charming smile back on your face, even though it took too much effort. “And you assumed I’d jump you?”

It was slightly alarming how easily you locked your emotions away. How you could pretend like there wasn’t something bothering you when it had been so obvious just seconds before? 

It set off red flags in her brain because a talent like that wasn’t inherent. It was learned. 

“No,” She shook her head, deciding not to comment on how easily you flipped that switch. “I just knew how much I missed you,” 

Your mask fell slightly. “I missed you too,” 

You meant it. Being away from Taylor was harder than your pride would let you admit. 

You had never been so… taken with someone. So addicted to them. But she made you feel seen and safe. It made you want to spend every second with her, wrapped around her. 

“Can I take you to dinner?” She asked, squeezing your knee. 

You shrugged. “I have to go back to the team hotel first to do cool down and check-in,” 

“I can pick you up afterward,” Taylor suggested. 

“That sounds agreeable,” You nodded, your lips twisting into a devilish smirk. “But what are we going to do in the,” You looked at the time on your phone. “25 minutes we have before the bus leaves?”

Taylor matched your smirk, catching the front of your shirt and pulling you closer. “I can think of a few things,” 

OoOoOoO

March 2017

I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance  Oh, through an avalanche?

You didn’t particularly enjoy fancy restaurants. You didn’t particularly like most restaurants to begin with, but ones with a dress code always made you uncomfortable. Their menus always had a small font, and the white tablecloths never stayed white. 

The stuffy atmosphere usually lent itself to stuffy conversations, and it reminded you too much of business lunches or dinners with your parents to ever really enjoy yourself. 

You had learned over the years that your opinion didn’t really matter. That everything wasn’t about you. So you were fairly adept at painting a charming smile on and acting normal. 

It has worked for most of the night with your sisters and Kelley anyway. 

It was easy when Jen and Jerri were gushing over the new diamond ring on Alex’s finger. When they kept asking for every little detail of how Kelley proposed on top of the Empire State Building. 

And you played along, never speaking directly to Alex, but not being weird enough that anyone would notice.  You wouldn’t ruin this for her, or for Kelley. 

“You alright over there space cadet?” Jerri asked, nudging your shoulder and pulling your brain from where you were trying to decipher the tiny writing on the menu. 

You blinked up at the four women, realizing that they (and the waiter) were staring expectantly at you. “What?”

“Kell asked if you were ready to order,” Jen supplied patiently. 

You were just grateful that no one giggled, but you blushed anyway. 

You tried to cover it by snapping your menu closed. “Oh, yeah,”

Kelley blinked at you, gesturing towards the waitress. “What are you going to order?”

You felt the heat in your cheeks travel up to your ears, but still, you tried to play it off. “Oh, you guys can go first,”

Jerri shook her head, placing her hand gently on your arm. “We already have sweetheart,”

You frowned, squinting down at your closed menu. You had missed them ordering, and now you didn’t have time to try and decipher the hieroglyphic font the restaurant had chosen. Not that you would have been able to. 

The letters tended to go more haywire when you were stressed, and you would be damned before you asked someone to help you. Your jaw worked as you thought of what to say.  What could you say?

“You love chicken parm, and I heard it’s good here,” Alex said casually like it was normal to suggest food items after everyone else had already ordered. “or they have a very good salmon in pink sauce if you’re feeling something lighter,” 

Your eyes darted to her for the first time since you had sat down at the stable, and your jaw hung open. 

Alex intervening so seamlessly when you were struggling wasn’t something that had happened since she moved to Berkeley (you couldn’t help how you sneered the word in your head). 

Jerri nudged you again, and you cleared your throat, your eyes still glued to Alex. 

 “The salmon sounds good actually,” You mumbled, finally getting your voice to work. 

The waitress hummed, and you heard her little ticket book close. “I’ll go put that in,” 

You were sure that Kelley or Jen responded to the girl, but you didn’t look away from Alex. 

It was just so…not Alex of her. For her to have options ready and waiting meant that she had to have thought that you might have trouble. She had to have consciously decided to look for options that you would like too, and to have more than one so you actually got to choose. 

It meant that she cared. 

You swallowed very hard. That thought was too overwhelming. 

Now, at the dinner, after she just got engaged was not the time to contemplate if Alex even had the capability to care about you. It would again make the evening about you when it most certainly was not. 

You could feel the eyes of Kelley and your sisters, despite the way they restarted their conversation. It was like they were watching a car crash or a roller coaster derail. 

You felt like a spectacle. Like you were drawing attention when you absolutely should not be. It had alarm bells ringing in your ears. 

What would your parents say when they heard you had ruined your sister’s engagement dinner? 

It was like the walls were closing in, as the conversation at the table blended with the noise from the restaurant around you. It was suffocating. 

You didn’t think before you pushed yourself to your feet, nearly knocking over the chair behind you. 

“I’m gonna take a bathroom break,” You said, turning on your heel without waiting for a response, not that you would have registered it through the pounding in your ears. 

You needed to get away. 

To leave. 

To put space between you and this version of Alex that somehow gave a fuck about you. 

You bypassed the hallway that led to the restroom, knowing that someone would eventually find you there. You turned right, brushing past the hostess and out the glass doors into the city. 

The chilly air hit you like a gasping breath after being underwater for too long. Like water after a practice in Houston in July. 

You paused just outside the crystal doors, filling your lungs like you had been drowning. 

You knew you couldn’t stand there forever, blocking the entrance to Osteria Carlina, so you headed left, in the direction of your favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place between Canal and Broadway. 

You didn't plan to eat there, but you thought that maybe the walk would help you clear your head, and you could be back in time to eat your overpriced salmon. Something about the smell of fresh sauce and baked cheese always made your thoughts clearer. 

It reminded you of when you were tiny and Alex would take you for pizza after your u6 games. It reminded you of riding on her shoulders on top of the world, even if none of the goals actually mattered. 

Even if you lost. 

You just needed a minute to not think, so you could go back and pretend like everything was fine. Like you didn’t feel entirely out of place with your sisters and Kelley. And you knew that the sounds of the city and the familiar comfort would do that. 

You could already feel your airway opening, but you reached up and undid the top two buttons of your shirt anyway as though it would help. It was all in your head anyway. 

It was always all in your head. 

You ran a hand through your hair, your nose scrunching involuntarily at the sticky gel you had used to keep your curls in place. You had forgotten your normal wax in Chicago, and the CVS near your hotel wanted 15$ for it. 

You wanted to look nice for Alex and Kelley, but 15$ wax was not in your budget. Still, you couldn’t not do anything with your hair. Wild curls would draw attention to you, and you couldn’t do that. 

You couldn’t make this night about you and ruin it for them. 

God, you probably already had. 

“If you’re going to ditch us can you please slow down? It’s the least you could do,”

Your heart stopped at Alex’s voice, and your feet paused before you consciously decided to listen. You had to swallow down a groan. 

Of course, she had come after you. 

It was such an Alex thing to do. 

You ran another hand through your hair and turned to face her. “What are you doing?”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she finally caught up with you. “I’m making sure you’re okay,”

She said it like it was obvious. Like it was normal. Like she wasn’t sure why you would ask. 

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, your hand dragging through your curls to the back of your neck. “Go back to dinner and I’ll rejoin you in a bit,”

Her eyebrow arched. “I think running out of the restaurant constitutes just about anything other than fine,”

You couldn’t help how your nose scrunched.

This was the part of your relationship that you had forgotten about. The one that had been masked by annoying persistence since she moved out for college. 

The one where she actually cared enough to force you to admit when something was wrong. 

She was pushing you, but it didn’t feel like it was for her benefit. It was for you. 

Your hand fell. “I just needed some air,” Your voice came out horse, strained. 

Alex hummed, stepping closer to you. “You got overwhelmed.”

It was a statement, not a question, and it struck you how well she knew you, even though the two of you hadn’t had a real conversation in nearly a decade. 

You stared at her, trying to understand her game. Trying to figure out why she was pretending to care. Trying to dissect how this would benefit her and her perfect image. 

“What do you want from me?” You were thrown off by how small you sounded. How young and… terrified the words that left your lips were. 

Alex caught your arm pulling you into her, closing the little space left between you. “I want you to talk to me,” 

“No,” You instantly pulled away from her, tangling your fingers in your messy curls yet again. “I will not be a distraction,”

“What?” Her eyebrows pulled more tightly together. 

Your fingers caught in a curl at the back of your head, the one that always seemed to tangle no matter what you did. You harshly tugged at it, the little pinpricks of pain helping you stay grounded. 

Except this time it didn't help. 

It didn’t give you enough to focus on to crack some smart-ass remark or shove your feelings into a tiny box. 

It was too much. 

“It’s all I’ve ever been,” The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them, like blood gushing from an open wound that you had tried and failed to stitch together too many times before. 

Alex softened, and she took a step towards you, gently catching your arm and pulling it towards her, effectively stopping your from ripping your hair out. 

“Monkey,” She said softly. 

You jerked away, like a wounded animal. You would not let her pretend that she didn’t think that. That she didn’t hate how you followed after her when you were young, that she didn’t despise how you distracted from her.  

“No! I heard you. I’m just the spare Morgan chasing after you, taking people’s attention off of you, and joining in uninvited on your opportunities. This will not be like that. I won’t fuck this up for you. You need to go back, and I’ll be there in a few minutes,” 

The words forced themselves out of your lips like they had been waiting to leave for forever. They broke you apart as you choked trying to hold in your emotions. As you fought to close the lid back on Pandora’s box. 

Alex caught you again, pulling you into her, and you quaked against her chest, sucking in strangled breaths. Her arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tightly, just like she did when you were little after a busy trip to the mall when the crowds had made your tummy flutter. 

You didn’t fight her, instead burying your face in her neck, curling into her like you hadn’t since she left for college. 

She held you like the two of you had all the time in the world. Like you weren't on a random sidewalk with random people walking around you. 

She didn’t pull back until your trembling had slowed and your breathing had evened out, and she very gently ran her thumb under your eyes. 

You hadn’t even realized you were crying. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked when your eyes met her identical blue. 

“You said it,” You mumbled, sniffing lightly. 

Alex’s eyes scrunched and a crinkle appeared between them. “When?” 

 “I was trying to surprise you at Berkley. Mom thought I had practice, and I took the bus. I heard you,” You said, your eyes closing as that day played back through your head. 

It had taken some serious convincing from Jen that Alex missed you, and that she was desperate to see you since you had gone radio silent on her. You had been so excited as you waited near the Berkeley bleachers for their practice to finish. 

She had been walking with one of her teammates, and they were talking about someone Coach McGuire was going to invite to practice. 

“It just makes no sense, why would he extend that kind of an offer to a kid?”  The girl you didn’t recognize said, nudging your sister as they stepped off the field. “Like fuck, it has to suck to always have your younger sister getting opportunities off of your hard work,” 

Alex hummed, shifting her bag over her shoulder, and you moved to be more hidden under the bleachers. 

The little sound was like a knife in your chest, deflating the balloon of excitement that had been there since you snuck out this morning. 

Alex didn’t want to see you. She thought you were getting things off of her hard work.

“Don’t they understand that you want something that’s yours?” The girl continued, and you bit down hard on your lip to stop the tears from leaking down your cheeks. “You should have to deal with her being a distraction from your greatness,” 

You would never cry for Alex again. 

You shook your head and refocused on Alex in front of you, shoving away the cracking feeling in your stomach. 

“Go back to your dinner. I’ll be there in a bit,” You said, forcing your voice steady. Emotionless. In control. “I promise Alex. I just needed some air,” 

“No,” Alex said sternly, her arm tightening around you so you couldn’t pull away.  “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down on me. I'm not going anywhere,”

You blinked at her, fighting to swallow the warmth that spread through you. It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be honest about this. 

You had already resolved that she didn’t actually care about you. That she loathed the responsibility of you from when you were younger. You couldn’t wrap your head around anything else. 

And before you could stop it the strangled “Why?” Fell from your lips. 

She chuckled, running her thumb under your eyes again and wiping away the tears that would not stop. “Because I fucking love you, and I can’t read your fucking mind, no matter how many times I told you I could when you were little,” 

You knew the comment was meant to draw a chuckle or a smile, but it didn’t. 

Alex ducked her head when you tried to look away, not letting you break eye contact. Not letting you bury your emotions and draw back into yourself. Making sure you heard her. “I want to fix our relationship. I’ve wanted to fix it since you stopped talking to me when I moved out. I don’t understand what happened, even though I probably should, and I can’t if you don’t tell me,” 

You sniffled, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her touch as her thumb ran circles under your eyes, clearing away the tears as they continued to fall. It warmed your cheeks, and traveled down to your tummy. It made you feel… safe. Something you hadn’t really felt that way (aside from when you were with Taylor) since you were 12. 

The two of you stood like that for a long minute, stuck in your own bubble, uncaring of the crowds rushing around you. 

It took you another moment to realize Alex’s eyebrow was raised, and that she was looking at you like she always had when she expected a response. 

You swallowed hard. “Ok,” 

The word was simple but held a weight not lost on either of you. What you were agreeing to wasn’t lost, and neither was the vulnerability it took to let it out. 

Alex’s head tilted, a smile tugging at her lips. “Ok.” 

You nodded, finally pulling yourself out of her grasp and wiping your face with your arm. “I’ll try. Old habits die hard,”

“I know,” Alex hummed, and you knew she was saying more.

She was saying that she knew how hard it was for you to voice your feelings sometimes. How difficult it was for you to be open. 

She was saying that she knew you. 

And it had a warm feeling filtering deep in your tummy. 

You looked away, clearing your throat. “We should go back. It’s your night and you should get to enjoy it,”

Alex sighed.“ This doesn’t change my ability to enjoy my night. If you need more time, we have plenty,”

Your shoulders rolled, and your back straightened.  Your fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. 

It was something Alex had seen a million times. The way you pieced yourself back together, even when you didn’t necessarily have to. Even when you weren’t ready to. 

It was unsettling, how little this part of you had changed. 

“The only bad thing about the city lights is that you can’t see the stars,” She said, watching how the abrupt change in subject took an immediate effect. 

You blinked at her, your eyes instinctively glancing upward towards the sky, and your shoulders relaxing. 

Bingo she thought. 

You might not have had a conversation with her in years, but she still knew you. And your obsession with astronomy… well more like your obsession with Greek mythology and stars… hadn’t changed. 

You hadn’t changed all that much. Well, most of you, no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise. 

“Canis Minor is there,” You mumbled, pointing up at the sky barely visible surrounded by the neon lights of the city. “And Vela and Volans are there. It’s hard, but you can make them out,”

She hummed, not at all surprised that you could pick out the constellations even when you could only see a small part of them. But that wasn’t the point.

The point was how you relaxed. 

You looked back towards her, your hand dropping as you let out a shaky breath.  

“Let’s go back,” You said. “I don’t want your food to get cold,” 

Alex nodded. “As long as you’re ready,” 

You made a low sound in the back of your throat and turned back towards the restaurant. “Let’s go,” 

She signed, reminding herself that everything wouldn’t be fixed in a day. You wouldn’t be fixed in a day. It would take baby steps, and you had given her more today than you had in years. 

“Ok,” She agreed, letting you lead her back towards the restaurant, and your family. 

*****

“You sure you don’t want a ride kid?” Kelley asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

You nodded, forcing a smile across your lips. “Oh yeah, I’m good,” 

The end of dinner had actually been nice. 

No one had said a thing when you and Alex returned to the table, just before your food arrived. The conversation had been light, focused on the proposal, and no one had tried to force you to join in. 

They hadn’t even batted an eyelash when you pulled out your phone to text your girlfriend about where you would be sleeping, and made eye contact with the two men who had taken up a table in the back corner of the restaurant.

Desert had been… almost pain-free, which set you on edge. 

Nothing in your family came without a cost, and you wondered what it would be. Especially since Alex had come after you. 

But everyone said their goodbyes and headed to their cars with very little fanfare. 

All except for Kelley who was worried when you lingered near the entrance of the restaurant. 

“You don’t have to stand here with me,” you said, glancing down the street, looking for the familiar black Escalade you assumed Taylor would be sending to retrieve you. You figured Tony was driving, since he had disappeared, leaving Zach to linger a few feet away from you. “I'm just waiting for my Uber,”

Kelley made a low noise. “And while I’m sure your new mob friends could take care of you, Alex would kill me if I left you here without knowing your plan,” 

You blew out a breath, a strange warmth in your stomach at the thought that Alex would care. “My ride should be just around the corner. You can go, and I’ll be fine,” 

It didn’t even bug you that Emily had apparently convinced her you were in the mob too. 

“Burrito girl?” She asked, her features softening. 

You nodded, glancing sideways toward where Alex was standing. “Satisfied now?”

You weren’t ready for your older sister to know yet. You weren’t ready to hear about how you weren’t mature enough. Or how your reputation would impact your relationship. 

You didn’t want to be lectured about how much older Taylor was. 

Kelley wiggled her eyebrows as a black Escalade pulled around the corner. “Very,”

“You’re far too smug about this,” You huffed, again glancing towards your sister, who still seemed oblivious to your conversation. 

Kelley followed your eyes, and her smirk softened. “You know she wouldn’t be upset that you’re seeing someone right? She just wants you to be happy,” 

“I know,” You mumbled, feeling the kid you had forced over your emotions rattle in your chest. You had already been too vulnerable tonight. “I just… I’m still figuring it all out, and I don’t want the pressure yet,” 

Kelley made a low noise of agreement in the back of her throat. Like she wanted to argue with you, but knew you weren’t in a place to listen.

You wondered how much she knew about your earlier moment with Alex. How she knew so well not to push. 

The black Escalade came to a smooth stop in front of you, and Zach stepped up from behind you to stand near the rear passenger door. 

You appreciated that he didn’t say anything. 

“Tell your burrito mob boss hello,” Kelley said, patting your back. “And I’ll take care of your sister,” 

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly at her before Zach opened the door for you and you slid into the backseat of the car. 

Zach closed the door behind you and was in the passenger seat before you could think too hard about what Kelley had said. 

“To Taylor’s apartment?” Tony asked you, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “Or did you want to make a pitstop first?”

You blinked at him, not expecting to have a choice in where he was taking you. You figured Taylor had given him instructions already. That he would do whatever she told him to because she was the one paying his (probably incomprehensibly expensive) salary. 

You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Taylor’s apartment is fine, thanks,”

“No problem kid,” He winked, his eyes returning to the street ahead of him. 

Zach reached forward and flicked the radio, letting quiet pop fill the car, and you relaxed back into the leather seats. 

It was weird. This was weird. You felt so… off balance after your moment with Alex. It made you feel so vulnerable. 

You needed to get rid of the raw feeling in your chest. You needed control. 

You swallowed hard and looked out the window as the lights of the city passed. 

*****

One thing you absolutely loved about Taylor’s apartment was that it was always stocked with sweets. And since you had started dating, your favorites seemed to appear alongside the treats that she enjoyed. 

“How was dinner?” She asked you, passing you the container of chocolate frosting as you sat on her kitchen counter. 

She was dressed in short shorts and an old Philadelphia Eagles shirt, her feet bare. She was relaxed and comfortable. Which felt like a stark contrast to needles prickling in your stomach. The pins tingling the back of your neck. 

She had been waiting for you near the elevator when the SUV pulled into her private garage, and she welcomed you with a hug that was so… warm that it almost made you forget how raw you felt. 

She held you as you ascended to her apartment, and all the way into her kitchen, asking if you were up for a bit of dessert. 

You were surprised she hadn’t immediately tried to get you to talk about dinner with your sisters and Kelley. That she didn’t pry into it the second she had the chance like Mal would have. 

Now you found that you didn’t mind the question. 

“Fine,” You shrugged, sticking a spoon in the frosting and twisting it around, lifting it to examine the scoop you had made. “They mostly gushed over the ring Kelley picked, and how romantic it was to propose on the Empire State Building,”

You licked your spoon, pulling it into your mouth, and your eyes closed at the taste. 

It was silky and smooth, much better than the cheap frosting you always brought. 

“You don’t think it’s gush-worthy?” Taylor asked when your eyes fluttered back open. 

You paused, thinking about it for a long second as you got another scoop of frosting. 

You actually thought Kelley’s proposal was sweet. It combined some of your sister’s favorite things and one of her favorite places. It made sense. 

But it was so cliché.

 “For Alex it is,” You shrugged, sticking the spoon in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the ridges to get all of the delicious chocolate. 

Taylor hummed, stepping up between your legs, her hands running gently over the dark denim of our jeans. “But it’s not what you would want?”

You shook your head, scooping a bit more frosting on your spoon. 

“I think I’d want something more creative,” You said, your lips quirked up, as you held the spoon out for her. “You know, like under the Eiffel Tower,”

“So original,” She rolled her eyes, letting you slip the spoon past her lips.

Sharing food with her was a habit you had picked up. Something that settled the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that she was too skinny. That there was something… wrong with her relationship to food. 

Her fingers tightened around your thighs and you tilted the spoon up and her chin tilted to follow, exposing the long lines of her neck. You traced them with your eyes, swallowing hard. 

It had want bubbling in your stomach alongside the needles. It had you leaning into where you knew this evening was heading. Into the coping mechanism that hadn’t failed you yet, even though you so desperately wanted things with Taylor to be different. 

But maybe tonight they didn’t have to be. 

You hummed, pulling the spoon away. 

She let her tongue trail along it, her eyes fluttering open to make eye contact with you. “That’s good,”

“You bought it, so I would hope you like it,”

You dipped the spoon back into the container, pulling up a glob of frosting and bringing it to your lips. 

She watched you intently, waiting for the spoon to leave your mouth with a little pop before very slowly leaning in. It gave you enough time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to. 

You needed this. To feel in control. 

You leaned forward, connecting your lips in a languid kiss. Her tongue gently pressed against your lips, and you opened your mouth to grant her access. 

It carefully explored around your mouth, dancing with your tongue in a slow waltz, licking the residual frosting from every surface it touched. 

She let out a low noise in the back of her throat as she pulled away. “That one tasted better,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows, dropping the spoon back into the container. “Did it now?” 

“It did,” She nodded, her thumbs running up and down your thighs. 

You leaned forward, connecting your lips again and slowly sliding off the counter. Your hands landed heavily on her hips and her arms draped across your shoulders, pulling you closer, her fingers playing with the baby hairs at the back of your neck. 

It was easy for you to snatch control of the kiss, Taylor gave it to you willingly. 

It should have smoothed over the frayed edges of your nerves. It should have quieted your thoughts and made you more present. 

Instead, you slipped farther into your head. 

You replayed the feelings of Alex’s hand in your hair, the weight of her arm around you. How you had made a promise you weren’t sure you really wanted to keep. 

Your lips never left her as she took a step back towards the hallway that led to her room, and you slipped your fingers under the hem of her shirt, skating along the waistband of her shorts.

You loved the smooth skin there, and the goosebumps that trailed after your light touch. They distracted you so much that you didn’t notice her turning down the hallway until you were stumbling over your feet to keep up. 

Her lips tilted into a smirk as she used her newfound leverage to switch your position. 

Your back hit the wall with a low thump. Her lips reattached to yours, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your skull, and the other cupped your chin as she pressed you into the wall, her thigh landing heavily between your legs. 

It was more demanding, more needy, more in control. 

It jarred you out of your head. Out of the rabbit hole of how being honest with Alex would help you link the back line to the front line better. Of how it would allow more line breaking balls through towards the edge where your sister always danced to stay onside. 

“You didn’t think I was a pillow princess did you?” She asked, winking at your surprised eyes. 

You let out a sigh at the pressure against your core, doing everything in your power to prevent your hips from pulling back when she rocked against you. 

This you weren’t used to. This you had never done with anyone besides Mal. 

You sucked in a breath through your nose, deciding to focus on the things that you enjoyed. You leaned into the kiss. 

You liked the way her tongue explored your mouth. You liked how her fingers twitched against your jaw before they made their way to your collar. 

Your head tilted to give her more room as she began trailing warm, wet kisses down your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine when she hit the spot just below your right ear, and you let out another low sigh. She echoed the sound, her fingers deft as they undid the first button of your shirt. 

She let the blunt nail of her pointer finger graze your collarbone, trailing after her as she moved to the next button, leaving flames in its wake. 

Goosebumps erupted on the newly exposed skin, and you felt her smirk against your neck. 

Her long fingers splayed across your abs, tapping out a rhythm you couldn’t define. 

“Do you know how amazing these are?” She asked, her warm breath hitting the damp skin of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine as her fingers tapped you a bit harder. “I think about them all the time. It’s not fair that I’ve only gotten glimpses of them, especially with how much you show them off,”

“You were a bit distracted,” You smirked, projecting confidence that you didn’t feel, your fingers closing around her hips, trying to maintain a sliver of control. 

She flexed her thigh again to prevent you from flipping your positions though. 

“Hmm,” She hummed, a devilish smile cracking across her lips as she dropped to her knees. Your breath caught in your throat, and you splayed your hands on the wall behind you, trying to hide how much they were shaking. 

You didn’t know how to handle this. How to do this. 

“Well I’m not distracted now, and I’m going to give them the attention they deserve,” She said, her hands moving the edges of your shirt out of the way. 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you now?” 

Your voice barely wobbled as you spoke, and you took it as a win. 

“I am,” she nodded, determination glinting in her eyes. She leaned forward, placing an open mouth kiss on the abb right above your left hip. Her tongue followed the ridge of the muscle to the other side. 

you bit your bottom lip and allowed your head to fall back against the wall with a low thump. 

You liked this touch. More than any touch you had ever had before. You had never let anyone get this far before, not even Mal really. 

Things had been quick with her, like touching you was an unpleasant chore. One neither of you had ever been fond of. 

This. This was different. 

Taylor took her time, lavishing each individual muscle as her warm mouth traveled around your stomach. A chill trailed after her lips, the air landing on your wet skin sending goosebumps across your flesh, stoking a foreign fire in your belly that was almost enough to quiet the growing dread. 

Almost. 

She made her way up your stomach, placing a line of kisses up your chest and collarbone before she again landed on the special spot on your neck. 

“Let’s get you out of these pants,” 

You sucked in a harsh breath through your nose, forcing yourself to remain relaxed. You tried to enjoy the feeling of her hands tracing the residue left on your stomach. Tried to focus on the softness of her lips on your neck and the scent of her perfume. 

Tried to let it drive away ghosts of calloused fingers and gruff voices. 

It almost worked. 

Then her thumb flicked open the button of your jeans, and you couldn’t temper your reaction. You couldn’t quell the growing anxiety in your chest. You froze, every muscle in your body going rigid for a split second before you could force them to relax again. 

You hoped that Taylor wouldn’t notice, but she did. 

“Y/n?” She said softly as she pulled back, her hands retreating from their position at your waist to cup your cheek, and her leg falling from between yours. 

Your eyes slowly fluttered open and met very worried blue. You could see the questions forming. The concern dripped from her form. 

But you knew you couldn’t answer.  You weren’t ready to unlock Pandora's box yet. Not when you knew you would never be able to shut it again. You only knew one way to stop her from asking. One way to regain control. 

You surged forward, your hands on her hips giving you the leverage to push her back against the wall opposite of you. Your mouth landed hot against her neck, lavishing the soft skin with open-mouthed kisses, and your thigh slotted between her legs pressing into her core with the perfect amount of pressure to distract her. 

“I’m ok,” You muttered hotly into her ear, pressing more firmly into her center. “Let me make you feel good,” 

She sucked in a breath, her hips stuttering like they wanted to grind against you, but she wouldn’t let them. 

You dragged your tongue down her neck, letting your teeth just barely graze her sensitive skin, and rocked your hips. Your thumbs scared along the sliver of skin just above her shorts trying to convince her to just go with it. 

To let her let you distract her. 

You thought for a second that it had worked, as a low groan left her lips. You thought that maybe you had… derailed her enough to forget about your momentary lapse in the hold you had on your emotions.  But just as you went to slip your hand into her pants she stopped you. 

Her palm pressed firmly into your chest, insistent until you pulled away enough to make eye contact with her. 

“I want us to both feel good,” she said sternly. 

You swallowed at the comment, fighting to keep your face neutral. 

“Making you feel good will make me feel good,”  You said, trying to lean back in, but the hand on your chest stopped you. 

“Y/n you tensed,” She said, her blue eyes burning into yours, looking for answers, the charge between you melting away. 

You sighed as you pulled away from her until your back hit the wall opposite of her. You ran a hand through your messy curls and glared up at her ceiling, unable to look at her. 

You were afraid that if you did, she would be able to read your mind. She would see the… brokenness you fought so hard to hide.  But you had never been able to hide from Taylor. 

Even before you were dating, you had let her closer to you than anyone had ever gotten before. She was scarily perceptive and had been able to read you from the beginning of your friendship even better than Mal could (and that was saying something). Her abilities only seemed to get more acute as you got closer. 

This was the only area she hadn’t seemed to pick up on. 

You let yourself slide down the wall, your eyes closing as you sucked in another breath.  You still felt so raw from your talk with Alex. Too… vulnerable. Like opening up again would finally crack your chest in half. 

“I’m,” You started and stopped, unsure of what you were actually going to say. “I’m not good at receiving,”

You settled on the phrase, drawing up the courage to finally open your eyes, pulling your knees close to your chest and resting your chin on them. 

You were surprised that Taylor had slid down her own wall so she was sitting across from you and mirroring your posture. 

She made a low sound in the back of her throat, and her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not good at it?” 

There was no judgment in her voice. None of the disgust you expected. 

“I can’t ever get out of my head enough to… enjoy it I guess,” You cleared your throat and looked away from her, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “No one’s ever noticed before”

It was a semi-truth. In your slew of hookups, no one had ever cared. No one had pushed back when you stopped them. No one had ever not let you distract them. 

But then again, Taylor was nothing like your hookups. 

You actually had feelings for her that stretched beyond self-loathing and the need to be in control of something. To be good enough. There was nothing quite like the rush that came from making a beautiful woman fall apart under you. It was irrefutable evidence that you were capable. 

Taylor’s eyes tightened. It physically hurt her that none of your past partners (if she could call them that) had cared enough beyond their own needs to see the obvious. And that you were willing to bypass your own comfort so someone else could feel good. 

She wanted to kick herself for not noticing that something was wrong sooner. 

“You’ve never talked through limits or likes and dislikes with any of the people you’ve slept with?”

You ran another hand through your hair (making it impossibly more messy) and let out a very long breath. 

You shrugged. “We were never doing anything beyond vanilla and it never progressed past a few one-sided orgasms,”

You had never let any of them touch you. Hell, you hadn’t even gotten undressed for most of them. The thought of doing anything… kinky sent a shiver down your spine so you hadn’t. It was just easier to keep distance from the people you slept with. It was safer that way. 

Taylor shifted, very slowly scooting towards you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your foot like she thought you would freak out if she moved too fast. 

“Well, I think there’s a need now,” Taylor said, watching your every movement. 

Your eyes were scarily hollow, accented by the red that rimmed them from the time you had made it to her apartment. She had wanted to ask about it. Pushed just a little to find out if you had been crying, and why. But you didn’t seem to want to talk about it. 

You had pivoted to sex almost as soon as she tried to bring it up. It sent red flags up in her mind. Red flags that only got brighter. 

She couldn’t help but replay every interaction the two of you had had in her mind. There would be time to agonize over every little detail later, but even now, your… reluctance to undress, or allow her to touch you was glaringly obvious. How the moment she flipped your typical script, you couldn’t hide it anymore. 

She was slightly ashamed she hadn’t noticed it before. That she had ignored the signs of your discomfort, even if they were well masked. 

Have you ever wanted to have sex? Had she put you in a position where you didn’t feel like you could refuse? 

She never wanted you to feel forced, whether that was about talking about how you were feeling or having sex. She wanted you to feel comfortable enough to tell her when you weren’t ok with something. 

Your nose dipped behind your thighs, your forehead pressed into your knees, and you squeezed your arms more tightly around them like you were literally trying to hold yourself together. 

Her heart broke a little more at the barely audible “ok” that left your lips. 

She scooted closer to you, her hand carefully drawing up your shin and weaving in your curls. Her nails scratched gently on your scalp, and you practically melted. 

Your shoulders relaxed and you let out a long breath before you shifted to look up at her, your chin balanced on your knees. 

She brushed a curl from in front of your eyes. “When did you start to feel uncomfortable?”

You scrunched your nose. It was a hard question. 

 You weren’t sure how you were supposed to explain that your mind went to soccer as soon as anything remotely intimate started. How were you supposed to explain that you were just defective? 

But maybe you didn’t have to. 

She didn’t ask you that. All she asked was when you started to feel uncomfortable, and that answer was easy.

It was the moment your back hit the wall. The moment you were jarred out of the safe space in your head.

The moment she forced you to be present, unlike every other girl you had ever been with.  

But you weren’t entirely uncomfortable. Maybe at the start, but you had enjoyed parts of being with her. You wanted to enjoy being with her.  But you were just… incapable. Defectives 

You settled for a shrug, curling tighter into yourself. You didn’t want her to see how… fucked up you were. It would only push her away.

That’s what pushed Mal away.  And Alex. And your parents. 

You would never be good enough, and you had just wanted to pretend as long as you could. You weren’t ready to lose Taylor yet. 

“Ok. It’s ok,” Taylor’s voice was gentle, and her hand trailed to tangle in the baby curls at the back of your neck. “Let’s try something else. Can you tell me what you liked?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “This time?” 

“Any of the times,” She said soothingly, her fingers never stopping their gentle scratches at the back of your neck. 

You closed your eyes, leaning back into her hand. “I like it when you do this,” 

She hummed, and you could hear a smile in it. “Anything else?”

“I like kissing you,” You mumbled, feeling the red flair in your cheeks. 

Her lips always tasted like coffee, and something so… Taylor. They were addictive in the best way. 

“And I like holding you,” You added. There was something comforting about having her in your arms. Something that made you feel safe. “And I like it when you hold me,” 

“But the rest?”  She asked you gently. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. You did what was expected of you. What you knew worked. 

You went with the flow just like Emily told you too, and then had been too caught in your head to savor the moment. To take in all of the little details that you wanted to remember. No matter how hard you fought, you just… couldn’t. 

You quite liked touching her too, but you knew there was something wrong with your inability to remain in the moment when you did. You knew that she deserved for you to be present. 

“I’m just not good at receiving,” You repeated, misery leaking into your tone. 

It was the only response you could come up with. The only explanation that remotely made sense. This was when she would realize you were… defective. This was when she would leave. But she didn’t. 

She gently squeezed the back of your neck. A silent request for you to look at her and a comforting touch that told you that it was ok. It took you a second to gain the courage to look up, but when you did, you didn’t see the disgust you expected. 

Her eyes were soft, sad, and they held another emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “I like holding and kissing you too,”

She shifted a little closer to you, so her knee was touching yours. “And I’ll hold and kiss you for as long as you’ll let me, at whatever pace makes you feel comfortable,” 

You made a low noise. 

It was strange. Conceptually, you could understand what she was saying, but you had never been with someone who didn’t judge you based on your ability to give them an orgasm. You wondered how long her patience would last. How long would she stay when she realized how deeply you were fucked up. 

“How about we go cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?” She asked, squeezing the back of your neck gently. 

Your nose scrunched as she pulled away, pushing herself to her feet and holding her hand out to you. “You know I don’t like movies,” 

You didn’t have the attention span for them, and you would inevitably get bored halfway through. 

She hummed, wiggling her fingers so you would take her hand. “How about survivor then?” 

Your tension melted at the mention of your favorite show, and your easy smile returned to your features.

“Yes! We have to watch Heroes vs Villains so you can see Russel at his finest,” You said, allowing her to pull you into her side.

“Whatever you want sunshine,” She kissed your forehead and guided you back towards her living room. 

It felt like going to her bedroom was too much, too fast. She didn’t want you to think she had some… expectations despite the clear signs that you were not ready to progress past cuddling. Not while you would so easily compromise your limits. 

Not while your limits still felt so unclear. 

She knew that it would take time to work through that, and she was willing to wait and help you for as long as it took. 

*****

Soft morning light filtered into your consciousness, waking you gently. You breathed in deeply, shifting on a bed that you knew wasn’t yours. 

It smelled like lilacs and Taylor’s perfume, sweet and inviting and safe. You could hear soft music from somewhere else in the apartment and felt cool sheets next to you. 

You frowned, pushing yourself to a sitting position with a yawn. It was rare you woke up after Taylor. That you slept in in general. 

But it shouldn’t have surprised you with what had happened last night. Sure, the two of you had fallen asleep together just after Pavarti and Russel had schemed to take down the Hero’s tribe during the merge. Taylor held you just like she promised, but you should have known it wouldn’t last. 

A good nights sleep had opened her eyes. She had reflected and decided you were too… broken to be worth it. 

“Fuck,” You mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the palms of your hands. 

You should have stopped her before she got to your pants. You should have been more subtle and slipped your position instead of tensing. 

You should have been prepared to lose hold on the iron box that held your emotions. You should have had more control. 

But you didn’t, and now you were most likely going to lose your girlfriend. 

She would break up with you in the sweetest way possible. She would say that it was her. That she was the problem, and you would accept that. 

You would nod along, and make it easy for her.  Just like you had with Mal when she told you that Dansby was her soulmate. That he was so good and perfect. 

You dragged your hands up your face, and into your hair, ruffling your messy curls as you pushed yourself out of bed.  There was no point in drawing this out longer than it needed to be.  

You stretched, pulling your shirt down over your boxers as you padded out of Taylor’s room towards the sound of the music. You could also make out soft voices as you got closer. Your eyebrows furrowed. Who was Taylor talking to? 

You peeked your head around the corner, your frown deepening when you saw a redhead sitting at the island across from Taylor, a large stack of papers sitting to the right of her, drinking a cup of coffee and humming to a song you had never heard before. 

Why was she here? 

Taylor turned from the stove, catching sight of you before you could hide back behind the wall. “Hey babe, good morning,” She said brightly, smiling widely at you. 

“Morning,” You said slowly, stepping out from behind the hallway wall. 

She gestured to the woman across from her. “This is Tree,”

“Hello,” You waved awkwardly at the redhead. 

“She just swang by to hear a bit of the new album,” Taylor explained easily, turning back towards the cabinets. “Do you want some coffee?”

Tree smiled brilliantly at you, showing off perfectly white teeth in a way that surprisingly didn’t feel forced. 

But you could sense the lie in Taylor’s explanation of why her publicist was there. Of why the woman who handled all of Taylor’s outward appearances appeared with a massive contract right after you had shown her how defective you were? 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She said, pushing out the stool next to her, a clear invitation to sit. 

You shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and dragged a hand through your hair. 

Neither of them seemed… angry. Or like they were plotting the fastest way to get you out of the apartment. But you didn’t trust it. All of your instincts told you not to. 

“Nice to meet you too,” You said slowly, stepping towards the stool and gesturing to the stack of papers. “Listen, I’ll sign whatever you want me to sign. Can I just take a shower before you kick me out?”

“What?” Taylor and Tree said in unison, Taylor nearly dropping the mug she was holding and Tree’s eyes tightening. 

“I just hate to put on clean clothes without showering,” You scratched more insistently at the back of your neck, your fingers tangling in the tight curls at the base of your skull. “And Alex and Kelley would think it’s weird if I show up to their house in what I wore last night, and I won’t be able to accurately answer their questions,”

Taylor’s eyebrows pulled tightly together and she set the mug down, stepping closer to the island. “Y/n, slow down,” 

You ignored her. You knew you were rambling at this point but you couldn’t stop yourself. “I promise I’ll be in and out in like 5 minutes. I won’t even do my hair,” 

“Y/n stop,” Taylor moved around the island, catching your hand as it began to tug at the roots of your curls.

“What are you talking about?” She asked you softly, ducking to catch your eye. 

“You’re going to break up with me because of what happened,” You rushed out, catching her frown and immediately backtracking. “Which is totally fine. I understand that you want someone… with less baggage. I just want to take a shower before you make me leave,”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” 

You blinked at her.  What was that supposed to mean? 

Was she going to make you do it so she could be the good guy? Was her publicist there to witness it so they could write a story about it? 

“Do you want me to break up with you then?” You asked, softly. You hated the fragility in your voice. 

Taylor’s head cocked to the side and she raised an eyebrow at you. “No,” 

It was your turn to frown. “I don’t understand what’s happening,”

“I’m not breaking up with you. You’re not breaking up with me,” She said like it was simple, tugging you towards the stools. “You’re going to sit down and drink your coffee while I make breakfast. You can talk to Tree if you like, or just listen to some of the tracks from my new album. But no one is getting kicked out or leaving,”

“Oh,” You breathed out, your shoulders dropping. “I don’t like eggs,”

“I know,” Taylor rolled her eyes, an amused smirk on her lips as she turned back towards the counter. “I’m making pancakes,”

“With chocolate chips?” You asked, watching her warily as you took the seat next to Tree slowly. 

You felt like you were in a stupid rom-com that Alex would like. Like you were the idiot boyfriend who was lost. 

“Of course,” Taylor hummed, sliding you a mug. “Drink your coffee,” 

“So I heard you’re going to be playing for Washington this season,” Tree said, and you really looked at her for the first time. 

Her eyes were kind, and she actually seemed… interested. 

“If they ever get me a place to live,” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “Their manager keeps giving me the runaround and preseason starts in like 2 weeks,”

Her eyebrows pulled tightly together and she tapped her perfectly manicured nail on the edge of her mug, just beside the tea bag string. “They haven’t figured that out yet?”

“No. The only option they sent me doesn’t allow pets, which is a serious problem for my 3 huskies,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

To be honest, your move to DC was nearly as painful as the one from North Carolina to Chicago. You just hoped that this time there wouldn’t be a dismembered toe in whatever apartment they put you up in. And hopefully, you had working AC…

The redhead's frown deepened. “Don’t you have a manager that takes care of that?” 

Your nose scrunched. “He’s not helpful,”

Your manager, Travis, had never been… involved. You were one of his 70 clients, and he preferred to do nothing besides collect his paycheck while teams fucked you this way and that. He rarely ever answered your calls, and when he did, he acted like a total slimeball. One more than one occasion he had insisted that he could turn you straight. 

Taylor turned away from the stove, meeting Tree’s frown. You could tell there was a question on the tip of her tongue, one you probably didn’t want to answer just as much as you didn’t want to talk about what had happened last night. 

Tree shook her head slightly, a movement just barely perceptible, making a low sound in the back of her throat and pulling out her phone. “I’ll take care of it,”

You blanched as Taylor turned back to the stove, flipping a pancake. 

You reached for Tree’s arm before she could fully stand from her stool. “No, that's ok. I can figure it out,” 

You didn’t need anyone else to get involved. You didn’t need to make a big deal out of this. You were sure it would only make it worse for you when you arrived. 

You’d heard that the Washington coach Richie was no better than Paul or Rory, and you knew the only way to deal with it was by not making waves. By gritting your teeth and keeping your head down. 

Tree smiled, squeezing your arm and grabbing her phone as she stepped towards the back balcony. “I’ll be right back,” 

You sighed when she disappeared through the glass doors, sinking into the stool, looping your hand through the mug handle, and taking a long drag of your coffee. 

It was perfect. Sweet and light exactly how you liked it, and the soft music playing in the background only made it better. You had never heard this song before. It was just a guitar track, with Taylor’s voice and you found yourself entranced by it. 

I know that it’s delicate, delicate.

You pressed your fingers into the side of your mug as you took another long sip, your eyes following Taylor as she hummed along to the song while flipping the pancakes onto a plate. 

She turned back towards you, sliding the plate across the marble island, and leaning against it. She waited for you to take a bite of your favorite breakfast, smiling when your eyes practically rolled back into your head at the taste. 

Her new music wasn’t the only reason Tree had visited. But she knew she had to explain that very… carefully. She didn't want to set you off, especially when you still seemed so frazzled from the night before. When you thought she would kick you out for tensing. 

She had her suspicions about why your reaction had been so strong, suspicions she had briefly discussed with Tree, but she knew she had to tread carefully. She had the feeling that if you felt too vulnerable, you would shut down entirely. 

But considering the pictures the news media had tried to splash across the headlines, she wasn’t surprised that you had tried to use sex as a distraction (or something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on). It seemed like it was your go-to method, and explained why you had been so content to leave a trail of bodies in the wake of your reputation. 

She also wasn’t surprised that it had ended… the way it did. You had already been emotionally vulnerable. Too vulnerable to have the kind of sex that was deeper than just movements and orgasms. 

She sighed. She would have to tell you why Tree was there, preferably before Tree herself told you. 

“Paparazzi got pictures of you and Alex last night,” She said, trying to stay casual. Trying to make it seem like no big deal. 

You paused, fork full of pancake freezing midair in its trajectory to your mouth for a brief second before you dropped it with a clatter back onto the plate. 

“Fuck me,” You groaned, dragging your palms over your face and through your hair. “Fuck me hard,”

It was another problem. Another thing for you to deal with. When honestly, you just wanted to pretend like last night had never happened. 

All you needed was for the fans to get ahold of a photo of you crying. 

She suppressed a chuckle. “It’s ok, Tree already took care of it,” 

You paused, your fingers scrunching in your hair before you dragged them back down your face and picked up your fork. 

Your eyes stayed closed for a long second before they opened slowly and you resumed eating like nothing had ever happened. 

It was like watching an actor pull on a mask, how you folded all of your emotions up neatly and pushed them inside. It was… incredible and sent alarm bells blazing in Taylor’s mind. 

“Oh. Um. Thanks,” 

You could feel her eyes appraising you. 

“It’s no problem,” She said with a little shrug, bringing her own mug to her lips. 

You went back to your pancakes, the only sound between you the scraping of your fork on her plate and the song playing again in the background. Your mind wandered through the chorus, enjoying the way the beat drop tickled the little spot in the back of your head. Your eyes swept across the kitchen landing on the giant stack of papers in front of Tree’s empty stool. 

“What are the papers?” You asked after a moment, pointing to it with your fork when the music died down and the song restarted. 

Taylor reached for it, placing it between you and spinning it so you could read it. You didn’t. The print was small and close together, and you didn’t want to give yourself a headache. 

“You said that no one has ever discussed limits and boundaries with you, so I thought it might be nice to do that,” Taylor explained carefully. 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “So you printed a packet?”

“Well, no,” She shook her head. “I know you said that you had never done anything beyond vanilla, but I have, and I think it’s important to thoroughly know my partners limits,”

You let a teasing smirk play across your lips, sinking into the teasing to cover how… off kilter you felt. 

You had never discussed limits. With anyone. And it scared you what she could discover. What if something you said turned her off? What if she didn’t want you after you filled out her packet? 

“I didn’t know you were kinky Miss Swift,” You said, wiggling your eyebrows. “Or is there some other title you prefer?” 

A bright red blush spread across her cheeks, traveling down her neck, and she looked away from you. 

Before you could follow up, to make the gorgeous red color travel further, the sound of the glass door opening echoed through the kitchen, and Tree stepped back inside. 

“Ok. I’ve got your housing settled, and I ordered a moving crew to help you,” Tree said as she sat back down beside you, seemingly oblivious to the tension between you and Taylor. 

Or maybe she was just better at ignoring Taylor’s reactions.,

You blinked owlishly at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“All you have to do is text this number with the date you want to move and they’ll help you get all of your belongings down to DC,” She said, handing you a sticky note with a number on it. 

You had no idea where she had gotten it, but you were thankful for it. 

“Oh, uh, thanks,”

She nodded. “If you have any more issues, call me and I’ll take care of it until we can get you a good manager,”

You swallowed your surprise. You weren’t even sure how to go about finding a new manager, and you doubted you could afford one. You weren’t entirely sure how the whole thing worked actually. But Tree seemed to know exactly what to do. 

You turned back to your plate, taking another bite of your pancakes.  They were like heaven, second only to the Pancakes Kelley made. But something nagged at the back of your mind. Taylor didn’t have a plate in front of her, and there wasn’t one in the sink. You supposed she could have placed it in the dishwasher. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” You asked, your fork pausing midair. 

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry,” 

A frown pulled at your lips.  Now that you thought about it, Taylor was not hungry a lot. She rarely ate snacks when you did, and you were pretty sure she had never finished a meal with you. 

“Then I'm not hungry,” You responded, already pushing the half-finished plate away from you, despite the way your mouth watered for more. “Unless you want to share these?”

She sighed heavily, but took your fork nonetheless, stabbing a tiny piece of pancake not drowned in syrup and bringing it to her lips. 

“Happy?” She asked you, and your smirk turned real. 

“I’m always happy when I’m with you,” 

*****

“I don’t understand what that means,” You muttered, reading number 372 of Taylor’s limit questionnaire. 

Touching while under sense deprivation

Most of the list had been easy. Things you knew you liked (like kissing), and things you knew you would never want (impact play with a cane). The rating system had also been easy to understand: things you liked and had done, things you wanted to try, things you would only try with lengthy discussion, and things you never wanted to try. 

Taylor highlighted her preference in green Sharpie and you did yours in orange as the two of you worked through her packet cuddled on her couch. She had been insistent that the two of you fill out the packet after lunch, and Tree left to give the two of you some privacy. 

“It means the use of a blindfold or headphones that cut off one of your senses,” She explained, already highlighting a would like to try in her green highlighter. “It can be fun. When one sense is taken away, others tend to heighten,”

You swallowed hard, biting your lip as the red in your cheeks got impossibly darker. 

“I,” you swallowed hard and looked away from her. “I don’t want to do anything where I can’t see you,” 

You had enough problems remaining in the moment with her. The idea that you wouldn’t be able to see her terrified you. 

It scared you to think about where your brain might take you. 

“Ok,” She agreed easily, placing a perfect orange swipe over never try, already moving on to the next one. 

It made your head spin how… comfortable with this she was. 

It was like she had done this before. She said she liked to know her partner's limits, so maybe she had. You had never asked about past relationships before. 

“This isn’t your first time going through this list, is it?” you asked, but the question was more of a statement than an actual question. 

She paused, halfway through reading hands restrained while partner touches- giving and looked at you. 

“No, it’s not,” She admitted gently. “I… I would rather be over prepared than cross a line that I didn’t know was there,”

Your head tilted, and you raised an eyebrow at her. “And you were doing kinky shit like touching your partner while their hands were restrained?”

“Sometimes,” She shrugged, her eyes narrowing. “But I feel like that wasn’t the question you actually wanted to ask me,”

It was slightly scary how well she could read you sometimes. 

You bit your lip. Your questions weren’t polite, but then again you were discussing allowing her to restrain you while you had sex. It was more… intimate than anything you had done with any of your partners, but Taylor seemed… comfortable. 

She had done this before, and you wondered… how many others had been in your position. 

“You’ve had relationships before?” You asked slowly, picking your cuticle and looking away from her. 

“Yes?” She asked back, using a finger under your chin to gently get you to meet her eyes again, as she raised her eyebrow. 

“I was wondering if you would tell me a little bit more about them,” 

“I’ve had a few, some vanilla, some not so vanilla. A few with men, but the serious ones have only been with women,” She said, her voice soft, like she knew you were insecure about asking. “Is there anything specific you would like to know?”

Your fingers picked more instantly at your thumb. “Were you-… did they-…”

Her thumb ran over your elbow. “Relax and take a deep breath,”

You did, except it didn’t help you. You felt like a fish gaping out of water. You forced your mouth to close, dragging in a deep breath through your nose. 

“You said you weren’t a pillow princess,” You mumbled, and a rye smile crossed her lips. 

“You want to know if I was tying people up or if they were tying me up?” 

You gulped but nodded. That had indeed been your question. 

“Well. The dynamic I had with my partners changed with each partner,” She explained thoughtfully. “I found early on that I preferred to give rather than receive, but sometimes it’s nice to just let go and let someone else take care of you,” 

You made a low sound as you took in the information. Really, it should have been obvious with the way she already took care of you.  She waited for you to ask a follow-up, as the silence stretched between you. When it became clear that you weren’t going to ask, she asked a question of her own. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Her head tilted, and she waited for you to nod. “The situationship?”

Your nose involuntarily scrunched. “What about it?”

“I was wondering if you would tell me a little bit more about it,” she mimicked your phrasing gently. 

You pulled your chin from her hand and looked away from her again.  It was… hard for you to talk about what happened with Mal. It still stung in a way you didn’t expect, even though you didn’t… want her anymore. Not like you had. 

“It was a teammate. We were under a lot of pressure, and it just kinda… happened,” You mumbled.  “I got hooked and she didn’t, so she chose someone else,”

Taylor made a low noise of understanding in the back of her throat. “But not before stringing you along,”

Your lips pressed into a thin line and you shook your head. “No,” 

You didn’t want to give her more details, to let yourself remember the agony of how it all devolved. How it felt like she was running you over broken glass every time you interacted. Giving you hope just to swipe it away at the last second. 

“For how long?” Taylor asked softly, drawing your eyes back to her. 

“Almost 4 years,” You sighed, running your hand through your hair and massaging the back of your neck. “The last time we hooked up was like 3 months after you and I became friends,” 

Her eyes tightened as she did the math in her head. That would make you 13 or 14 when it started. A shiver went down her spine. “So young,” 

You shrugged, your fingers digging more deeply into the skin on your neck. “Weird things happen at youth camp,” 

“Apparently,” She muttered. 

Your reaction to her trying to touch you was starting to make sense. If you had started young, and had a… bad experience… 

You cleared your throat. “How long was your last relationship?”

She blinked at you, pulling out of her thoughts. “5 years and some change,”

“Do you talk to any of your exes?” You asked.  “Like the serious ones?”

“No, those bridges went down in flames, but I keep up with a few of the less serious ones,” She shook her head. “I’m assuming you still talk to your ex situationship?”

“She’s one of my best friends,” Your shoulders lifted and fell, and your lips formed a very thin line at calling Mal a friend. You disliked how she UNC all over you, and things were… weird when you interacted, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. She was an integral part of your friend group and of the team. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” She said thoughtfully, reaching over to catch your hand as it again ran through your hair. “Because I trust you,” 

“I trust you too,” You said back, and you meant it with everything in you. You trusted Taylor more than you trusted nearly anyone. 

She smiled gently at you. “Do you want to continue this list?” 

You nodded slowly. “Let’s do this,” 

You glanced back down at the stack of papers between you. Yes, it was uncomfortable, but you trusted Taylor. 

OoOoOoO May 2017 You come around and the armor falls Pierce the room like a cannonball Now all we know is don't let go

“You are too fast for your own good,” Ali Krieger sighed, settling down on the bench beside you as you squirted more water into your mouth. 

You shrugged. “You and Dydasco keep leaving a gap for me to split, and Mal is good at finding space,”

The Washington Spirit captain hummed, sipping her own bottle. 

The defender had taken you under her wing as soon as you stepped foot in DC. She had shown up at your apartment ready to help you unpack, only to find it immaculately set up. She had taken you to lunch instead and introduced you to the rest of the team. 

They were wary at first given your reputation, but they were slowly finding out that you weren’t what everyone claimed you were. 

“Dude, that little through ball is sick!” Mal said before Ali could respond, throwing her arm around you and sitting on the bench practically in your lap. “We can totally use that against Sky Blue,”

You shuffled away from her as far as you could without being obvious, taking another long sip of your drink. “Kelley will be looking for it. She’s seen us do it too much,”

Ali had noticed that there was something… odd about the way you interacted with Mal. 

The two of you were inseparable, and your chemistry on the field was entirely unmatched. But there was just something she couldn’t quite put her finger on that bothered her about how Mal was with you. 

How you tried to squirm away from her without drawing attention to it, and how Mal would only move closer. How there was a depth to your relationship with the forward, a history, that Ali hadn’t been aware of before. 

Mal grabbed your water and squirted some into her own mouth while squeezing your shoulder. “Maybe we can discuss a new game plan over drinks?” 

Ali raised her eyebrow. “You’re both underage,”

“Hasn’t stopped Y/n before,” Mal shrugged, nudging you with a giggle. “She can take down a case of beer all on her own,”

You scrunched your nose, and brought your free hand to the back of your neck, pressing deeply into the skin. 

“Um, no thanks,” You said. “I have plans,” 

Mal froze, dropping the water bottle into your lap, and inadvertently getting your pants wet. 

“Plans?”  Mal’s eyes narrowed at you, and the edge in her voice made you shiver. “Which one of our teammates are you fucking tonight?”

A grimace crossed your features, but you smothered it under a mask of indifference, as you brought your shoulders up to touch your ears. “None of them,” 

Mal relaxed, ever so slightly. “Ah, so you finally got the app Lindsey suggested?” 

“No. I don’t use straight dating apps,” You huffed, righting the water bottle. “I don’t need the internet to pick up interested parties, but I’m not seeing some rando either. Not that it’s any of your business,” 

“Who was in your pants used to be entirely my business,” Mal mumbled, pressing a finger into the spot right below your ear, dragging it down the curve of your chin, and using it to tilt your head to make eye contact with her. “You liked it being my business,”

You stared her down, something passing between you that Ali didn’t understand. 

“And you made sure that it wasn’t anymore,” You said, your voice cold as ice as you pushed her hand away, and squirted more water into your mouth. 

“Ok,” Ali said, breaking the tension between you and the forward. “So Kelley will be wise to the through ball, what do you suggest?”

She had never seen you be so… direct. 

You put more space between you and Mal, your lip caught between your teeth for a long moment before you shrugged. “I’m sure Richie has a plan. He’s the master strategist isn’t he?” 

“You’ve had enough film sessions with him, so you tell me,” Ali countered. 

A dark look crossed your features, there for a split second before it was gone. Replaced by an easy smirk that Ali was learning wasn’t so easy. It was the face you made every time something made you uncomfortable and you didn’t want to talk about it. 

You took another sip from your water before you squirted it at Mal. “I’m sure he’s got a plan for his superstar,” 

You pushed yourself off the bench and ran off towards the midfield coach before either of them could stop you, and Mal went tearing off after you. 

Ali shook her head.  If only she had as much energy as you two. But still, there was something… nagging in the back of her mind. Red flags she couldn’t quite place. 

*****

You hummed quietly to yourself as you lit the final candle on your dining room table. 

The table was set. The dinner was in the oven set to the exact temperature Kelley recommended (after she walked you through how to turn it on), removed from its take-out containers and placed in glass dishes, and the trash had been removed taking with it any evidence that your meal hadn’t been created in your kitchen well before Taylor arrived at your apartment (and you had sworn Tony and Zach to secrecy). 

You had cleared off the counter in your kitchen, save for a thick off-white envelope, and a bottle of the red wine you knew Taylor preferred.  It would be the perfect date night. 

Taylor had flown in from Nashville to spend the midweek break with you, and you were fucking stoked. The two of you had seen each other in passing, but getting really quality time together during the season was rough. Nothing would stop you this weekend. 

“This is gorgeous,” Taylor hummed as she stepped into the kitchen area. “And it smells amazing,”

You smiled widely at her, pulling out a chair. “Thanks. I was just about to pull it out of the oven if you wanna sit?”

“Such a gentlewoman,” She said, as she sat, and you felt a bit of red color your cheeks. 

You had been called many things, but a gentleman (woman- whatever) was never one of them. People tended to believe your reputation and take you at face value. 

You were pretty sure Taylor was the only person to ever look past it. 

You turned away from her, moving towards the oven. “Only for you,”

She hummed, and you felt her eyes as you got the food out of the oven, and turned off the device before you brought it over to her. 

“It looks amazing,” She said as you placed the cookware on the table, and more red bloomed across your cheeks. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, joining her at the table. “It’s coconut curry with chicken, broccoli and rice. It’s got a lot of good fats and protein,”

It was a habit you had started in March, listing out the good parts of your meal. You noticed that she never saw food as fuel or something to be enjoyed. It always seemed like a chore she dreaded or a part of her day she just omitted entirely. You worried and you hoped that your little talks might change her view. So far you had been (mildly) successful. 

Taylor hummed and spooned herself a good portion. “I like coconut curry. I have it a lot after shows,” 

“Good,” You smiled as the red bled up your cheeks towards your ears. “It’s one of my favorites during the season because it meets all of my macros and is filling,” 

Taylor hummed again. “What’s the envelope on your counter?”

You rolled your eyes at the thought of the off-white envelope, with your address written in perfect cursive. “A wedding invitation,”

Taylor’s eyebrows pulled tightly together. “I thought they got engaged in March? They’re already setting a date?”

“We have to plan around tournaments, so they picked the only time everyone will be available,” You mumbled, chewing your too-large mouthful. “Spring of 2018”

“Still seems like a fast turnaround,” Taylor said thoughtfully. 

You shrugged. “They’ve been together for like 10 years. Alex has probably been planning this for years. She can read minds, and she’s a control freak so she probably knew Kelley was going to propose as soon as Kelley started looking at rings,” 

“Ah, I see,” 

You fidgeted in your chair, your fork aimlessly scraping your plate. “Do you want to be my date?” 

It nigged in the back of your mind that the two of you might not even be together in a year and a half, and that you were probably asking her to be your date way too far in advance. 

“Unless you hate me by then,” You added, forcing a playful smirk across your lips. 

She rolled her eyes at you, swallowing her bite. “I won’t hate you by then, and I would love to be your date,”

You nodded. “I’ll talk to Alex and Kelley about getting a plus one,” 

Taylor hummed and took another bite, chewing slowly. “I also wanted to talk to you about maybe trying something new,”

You raised your eyebrow at her. “What did you have in mind?” 

“Well,” She started. “When we filled out the limits sheet you mentioned that you didn’t like all touches, so I thought we could maybe walk through those boundaries, and I’ve never seen you naked, which is kinda criminal,”

“So? You want to what?” You asked, watching her carefully. 

“Shower together,” She said, meeting your eyes. “This way it’s something we’ve done, just-“

 “I’ll actually take my clothes off this time?” You asked, meeting her eyes. 

“And you can show me where you’re comfortable being touched and where you’re not,” Taylor continued gently. “I think it might be a good exercise in intimacy without expectations,” 

You nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Ok,”

“Ok,” 

*****

Water cascaded down your body in ripples, rolling over the goosebumps that littered your skin. Your fingers tapped against your hips, as you tried to force yourself to relax. 

“We don’t have to do this Y/n,” Taylor said from behind the shower curtain. 

You thought that this would be… easier if you get into the water first. That it would ease the bubbling anxiety in your chest. 

It didn’t. But you weren’t ready to give up yet. You wanted to trust her. 

“No,” You said, your voice more shaky than you would have liked it to be. “It’s ok. You can get in,” 

You turned towards the water, letting the spray hit your face, as you heard the distinct crinkle of the shower curtain. 

You felt her warm presence behind you, though she didn’t reach out to touch you. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before you turned back to face her. 

“I want to do this,” You mumbled, meeting her eyes, trying not to scan down her body. You appreciated that her blue orbs remained steadfastly locked with yours. 

“As long as you’re sure,” Taylor said softly. “You can tell me to stop at any point, and we will. Red, yellow and green still apply,” 

Your lip disappeared between your teeth and you nodded. 

You understood the stoplight system that the two of you had discussed. Red for stop, yellow for slow down or discuss first and green for good. You swore you would try for her, so you would. 

“Remember that I need a verbal?” Taylor asked you. 

“Yes. I’m ok. Green,” You said, your voice shaking more than you wanted it to. “Just…”

You looked away from her, finding a spot on the wall above her head. “Just go slow,”

“Of course,” Taylor promised you. “We’ll go at your pace. Even if today we just stand there, that’s ok,”

You nodded again. 

You didn’t like how… vulnerable you felt without your top on. 

It was too close. Too intimate and that’s part of the reason you had never done this with anyone before. 

But Taylor wasn’t just anyone.

You wanted to give Taylor this. 

You closed your eyes and let out a long breath. It shook as it left your lungs, disappearing into the steam building between you. 

You reached out slowly, catching her hands. “Let me show you where my boundaries are,” 

You went to tug her hands forward, but she resisted. 

“Can you look at me while we do this?” She asked, her voice gentle. “I want you to be present, here with me,”

It took you a very long second for you to open your eyes, and another for them to drag down her forehead and meet her blue. 

She smiled softly at you. “Thank you,”

Your head bobbed briefly, and you squeezed her hands. It shouldn’t be this hard for you to let someone touch you. 

The two of you stood there for several minutes before you gained the courage to pull her forward again. She went with you this time, letting you bring her hands to the hard lines of your stomach just below your belly button. 

“Here is ok,” You said, trailing her fingers up the center of your abs to your diaphragm before you moved them out to your sides and back down to the original level. 

“My whole back is ok too,” You murmured, feeling her nails dragging across your lower back, meeting at your spine. 

Your eyes slipped closed at the feeling. At how you could feel the body heat rolling off of her because of how close she was to you.

“Color?” She asked, and you could feel the words on your lips. 

Your eyes blinked open, meeting the fire burning in hers. “Green,”

“Good,” She said. “Stay with me, ok?”

“Ok,” You breathed back, as her fingers moved up your spine like she was counting each of them. 

You did your best to remind yourself that it was her hands on you as they finally reached your shoulders. They outlined your collarbone, and her thumbs brushed against your neck. 

It felt like a warm flame traveling from the point of her touch up to your cheeks, and down in your chest. 

“Will you let me wash your hair?” She asked, and her thumb swiped around your cheek. 

“Yeah,” You breathed out, making no move to grab your shampoo. You were afraid that if you’d turned, you would forget it was her. 

Her head tilted to the side. “Color?”

“Green, right now,” You murmured, more red flooding into your cheeks. “I just… I need to be able to see you when your hands are on me. When we’re… like this,”

“Ok,” Taylor agreed easily like it wasn’t a big ask at all. “I’ll stay where you can see me,”

You nodded, swallowing hard again. “Maybe we just do this today,” 

“That’s ok too,” Taylor hummed, her thumb running over your cheek to the sensitive skin behind your ear. “We’re doing this all at your pace,”

You swallowed hard again. “Thank you,”

Her lips tilted upwards. “Anything for you. I want you to enjoy our time together too. We’ll work up to the rest. My main concern is your comfort, and maintaining your boundaries. We’ll take it one step at a time,”

You could do that. You could do this. One step at a time. 

[ruth-odyssey]

༺✩༻ D is for Dangerous

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

wc. 2k

summary: after pairing up with a slytherin for a potion project, you somehow find yourself unable to tear away from him  

tw. fem!reader, reader is implied to be a gryffindor and not British but I don't mention it alot, reader is kinda awkward and has a crude humor (based on my own ngl). My poor attempt at explaining how I make friends. Set in sixth year but we gon pretend everyone is 17 (it's for the plot bear with me) and voldy died so we dont worry about him :)

a/n. Hello! This is my first fic so pls be nice. Started as a theo fic but my moot @celestia-5o5 said reader had more chemistry with mattheo so I changed it. Part 2 should be up pretty soon :) btw 10 galleons is like 73.5 usd

part 2

Potions are fun, well usually it is. You see, Professor Slughorn has a way of making his classes fun and the hardest potions seem like lightwork as long as you have a functioning brain and some sense of what you’re doing. What isn't fun on the other hand are group projects. Sure pairing up with your friends is nice; you know them and you’re sure they'll do their work. But not with people you don't know. So when Slughorn announced at the end of class that the class would have to prepare amortentia in pairs of his choice, you were ready to beg your ancestors for a partner willing to do at least some of the work. But to your demise (and the whole class really) Slughorn announced the pairs would be from different houses in order to ‘improve inter house relationships’, sending a pointed look at Potter and Malfoy. A list was stuck to the board and that was that. 

Sighing as you pack your things, you make your way to the board where a couple of your classmates have crowinding up. You get on your tiptoes, trying to find your family name on the page. (l/n),  (l/n),  (l/n).... Ah it's there! And next to it… Riddle. You press your lips together, turning your head to find the Slytherin. You're not quite sure how the boy even got in Slughorn advanced potion class but you still hope he’ll do his part. At least I could get him to freeze the Ashwinder eggs since it's a pain…” As you try to spot him, you hear a loud “Who the bloody hell is (l/n)” Turning around you finally spot him, he’s sitting on a desk, next to Malfoy, somehow spotting his name a few meters away from the board. His eyes meet your unimpressed one, and he flashes you his signature smirk. You give him a once over, trying your best not to roll your eyes. He makes his way to you, stopping in front of you. 

“Looks like we’re partners huh?” he looks at you with a look you assume makes girls eat in the palm of his hand. Boys…. “I'm going to the library after class, let's meet up there to slip up the ingredient prep.” He surveys your face, nodding. You leave the classroom, hurrying up the stairs to your transfiguration class.

—————————————

“Ok we’re gonna need to ask Slughorn to give us some pearl dust, from his personal collection, can you take care of that?” You glance up from your notebook to a seemingly uninterested Mattheo. “Are you even listening?” he glances up “Yeah you’re asking me to fetch the pearl dust.” Ok well maybe the project wouldn’t be so bad. Mattheo straightened up, resting his elbow on the table, joining his hands together. “So tell me, how come I've never heard of you before?” You close your notebook, leaning on your chair, “we never talked before today.” He smirks “Actually I dont think I’ve ever seen you talk to anyone before? Do you even have friends?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure why he seems so interested. “I do have friends…” you cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. He raised his hands in defeat “hey can't blame me for being curious”. 

Fortunately for you, Mattheo, while being mostly clueless about potion, was willing to both help and learn, taking some task of the amortentia making process upon himself. The month quickly passed, and the potion turned out to be a success. Slughorn was pleasantly surprised by your grade, especially when you confirmed that Matheo did part of it. Which brings you to your current predicament; Matheo and you, standing in front of Slughorn’s desk, waiting for the last of your classmates to leave. “Miss.(l/n), I’d like for you to tutor Mr. Riddle for a few months.” Your eyes widen, taken aback by the professor’s request. “Uhm, professor, may I ask why me?” Slughorn smiles, gathering some paper on his desk, which you assume is for his next class. “I know you are a talented student, Miss.(l/n), and you and Mr. Riddle seems to be quite the team. The potion’s quality was excellent and if what you told me about Mr. Riddle's contribution to it is indeed true… you might be able to help him raise his grades.” He gestures towards Mattheo, continuing “Mr. Riddle here is a talented quidditch player and while I know he doesn't play in your house’s team,  it would truly be a shame if he couldn't play the upcoming seasons because of his grades…” You glance at Mattheo, who sends you a sheepish look. “I.. I'll do it” Mattheo’s eyes widen “really? You will?” you nod, and Slughorn clasp his hands together bleaming. “Excellent, truly admirable Miss.(l/n), it seems you two are the only ones who truly grasped the point of this project!” Seemingly happy with himself, the professor continues talking to himself. You and Mattheo share a look, and decide it might be best to leave. The walk back to the Great Hall is quiet. As you take the stairs to get to transfiguration class he stops you. “Hey I just wanted to say thank you for accepting to tutor me even though” he gestures between the two of you “it's nice I appreciated it.” He smiles and you think Slytherins can't all be bad. You shake your head “no problem, don't mention it… also, the whole Gryffindor and Slytherin should be sworn enemies thing… it's not really my thing so I don't mind… but just because I'm tutoring you doesn't mean I'll cheer for you out there.” you can help but smile. He seems surprised but he simply returns your smile and nods, leaving for his next class. 

—————————————

In the first few days you spend tutoring Mattheo you learn a few things. First, all Slytherins aren't stuck ups who believe in blood purity rank, Mattheo and his older brother Tom – and their half-blood status — proved that. Secondly, if there was one thing Mattheo did know, it was quidditch. He’d started playing in second year as a chaser, and he's good, really good. And Thirdly, he had a knack to make you feel at ease, going as far as making your tutoring lessons enjoyable. Well maybe a little too much…..

Leaning back on his chair, Mattheo looks at you.“You know, you aren’t as serious as I originally thought.” You look up from your notebook. “What do you mean?” He smiles as he speaks. “When I first saw you, I assumed you were super serious and reserved.” You think for a moment, answering him with a shrug. “I guess, I’m pretty introverted, I usually make friends when extroverted people adopt me.” Mattheo burst out laughing, earning a disapproving look from Mrs. Pince – the librarian. You shush him, glaring. “Be quiet!! We’re gonna get kicked out because you’re too loud.” Mattheo lowers his voice, trying to keep his laugh to a minimum. “I'm sorry, it's just that I pictured an abandoned kitten in a box when you said that.” You look at him bewildered. “It's a metaphor????” Mattheo takes a deep breath, trying to calm down his laughter. “I know it’s a metaphor but it's the funniest one I’ve ever heard.” You start laughing silently. “Why are you people like this??” Mattheo pretends to be offended by the friendly jab. “How dare you bring my country into this?!” You facepalm, taking a deep breath. “Mattheo this has nothing to do with England,  you’re the most unserious person I’ve ever met, you would laugh at a piece of toast falling.” Mattheo raises his voice, trying to defend himself, a smile tugging his lips. “I do NOT find humor in a piece of toast falling!” He pauses for a moment, his smiles widening further. “Ok maybe I do, but that's beside the point!” The b0th of you continue cracking j0kes until Mrs. Pince has to – quite literally – ask you to leave. Matthew bites back his laugh, sending an apologetic look at Mrs. Pince. “Of course, we were just leaving.” Packing your bags, you leave the library in a hurry.

“I can't believe it, we actually got kicked out of the library” Mattheo’s eyes find yours, an incredulous look on his face, as if the idea of being kicked out of a library – for pretty much disturbing everyone – was inconceivable. You put a hand over your chest, struggling to breathe. “Wait, I literally can't breathe right now.” Mattheo continues laughing, a smile on his face. “We got kicked out of the library….” His face fall suddenly realising what happened “MERLIN’S BEARD WE GOT KICKED OUT OF THE FUCKING LIBRARY!!” “MATTHEO QUIET DOWN!!!” He covers his mouth, realizing how loud he just was. He turns to you whispering. “If they tell Slughorn I’m totally getting detention,” You shake your head, “It's fine we were just a bit loud, they won't give you detention for that… right?” Mattheo passes a hand through his hair, looking around the hallway. “Who knows, maybe Dumbeldore will decide to give me detention AND make us pay for a library pass..” He lowers his voice, seeing some very confused Ravenclaws nearby, staring skeptically. 

You sign “Man I'm too broke for library pass….” Mattheo dramatically puts a hand over his heart, pretending to be heartbroken. “You can't afford the 10 galleons?? Me neither.” You turn your head towards him. “Charging us 10 galleons for a library pass is crazy” Mattheo shrugs, acting as if 10 galleons is pocket change. “Well if it's the price to pay to enter the forbidden lands of the library...” He glanced at you, cracking a smile. Doubling up with laughter, you shake your head as you start walking “shut up Riddle.” Mattheo laughs as well, catching up to you. “I mean, it was kinda your fault we got kicked out.” “ME??? I did nothing! YOU are the trouble maker mister!” Mattheo crosses his arm, offended. “Why am I the one being pinned as a troublemaker?! YOU were the one that kept laughing!” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving you a slight shove. “Dang and you also hit women huh?” Mattheo looks at you horrified, almost tripping on air. “I do NOT hit women. And even if I did, THAT wasn't even a hit! It was a shove, a light one at that.”

—————————————

As it turns out, you were indeed right; Slytherins – despite their house’s history – are not all wicked people destined to use black magic. Mattheo, judging you were close enough, decided to introduce you to his group and friend. Draco, Blaise, Lorenzo, Theodore and Pansy. Blaise, despite his cold facade, quickly became a brotherly figure, always saving you seats, and making sure no one was giving you trouble. Lorenzo, while being a slytherin, was a ray of sunshine, always lifting the mood, and eager for gossip. Speaking of gossip, the amount of information Pansy had told you over the few weeks you’ve known her was appalling. The sheer amount of detail was enough that you knew she definitely had to have inside sources in every house. Theodore on the other hand was nothing short but quiet and sleepy. The boy – while being described as an excellent student by his teachers – had a habit of falling asleep pretty much everywhere. You once found him sleeping, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Mattheo assured you it was a common occurrence and that the boy was indeed all right. 

As for Draco, even the ‘wicked’ prince of Slytherin – or blond ferret depending who you’re asking – isn't as wicked as he is said to be. Annoying and pretentious? Yes. But also extremely fun to annoy. “I’ll let you know that the Malfoys are part of the Sacred 28!” He says, clearly proud of his pure-blood heritage. You exchange a look with Blaise, who starts laughing as if he knew exactly what you were itching to say. You look back at Draco, cracking a smile “You guys must really like to keep it in the family, huh?” It takes him a few seconds to realize the innuendo, while the whole group bursts out laughing. He looks baffled, and for a few seconds you think he just might try to hex you. “I- How dare you. We do not practice incest!” He crosses his arms over his chest, sulking – yes the famous prince of Slytherin is sulking – “Oh come on Malfoy don't be a baby I only was joking.” Your apology drowning in the sound of laughter. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

making amends ~ bucky barnes;marvel

word count: 2528

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their three year relationship started by him trying to make amends for his brainwashed past

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, use of y/n, mentions of bucky’s winter soldier past, mentions of an incident that left the reader in critical condition

masterlist (one, two, three)

(Y/N) placed the basket of clothes on her and Bucky’s bed. Bucky was away, and she had the day off, so she decided to do a clean of the whole house. She had just finished a load of laundry that had been waiting to be washed for at least two weeks. That included Bucky’s laundry, which he usually did himself but he had also let it pile up the last few weeks.

After folding it, (Y/N) turned to Bucky’s dresser to put his clothes away. When she opened the top drawer, she noticed something tucked away. She pulled it out and found it was a small moleskin journal. She hadn’t seen it before. Before she could consider what it might be for, or why Bucky might be hiding it away, she opened it.

It was a list of names. (Y/N) didn’t recognize any of them, but they were undoubtably written in Bucky’s writing. There were pages of names, some of which were crossed out. (Y/N) knew about Bucky’s past - about being a man out of time who was once a brainwashed weapon for Hydra. She began to wonder if these names were people he once knew. Maybe family of his old friends from the 40s, or whoever was still alive from then.

That seemed like a reasonable explanation, until she saw her name was one of the ones crossed out.

She backed up until her legs collided with the bed. She fell back to a sit, staring long and hard at her own name.

Why am I included in Bucky’s journal? she thought. Was he looking for me? And if so, why?

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear Bucky coming home. Suddenly, he was stood in the doorway to the bedroom. (Y/N) looked up at him, still with a look of confusion on her face. Bucky had been smiling, but when his eyes fell onto the book, his smile faded. His reaction made her heart sink. She would feel guilty for looking through his stuff under different circumstances, but now all she could think of was what the journal was for.

Bucky broke their silence first, “Where’d you find that?”

“It was in your top drawer,” she replied. Quickly, she added, “I found it while putting the laundry away. I didn’t think...” She trailed off, looking back down at the book. “What is this?”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair and sighed. There was no use in lying about it. He had to come clean eventually. “You know how we’ve talked about my time as the Winter Soldier? All the bad I did while I was under their control?”

She nodded. Of course, how could she ever forget? He had opened up to her very early on in their relationship about what he had gone through under Hydra’s control. He told her because he said he didn’t want to keep secrets from her, and he wanted to give her the opportunity to leave before the relationship got too serious if what he did changed her opinion on him. It was a shock, especially since she was a former SHIELD agent who had heard plenty of stories about the infamous Winter Soldier, but she assured him that her opinion on him hadn’t changed. “You are not that person,” she ahd told him.

“When Shuri deprogrammed me,” he explained, “and when I started going to therapy, my therapist suggested finding a way to make amends for all the bad I did. That book is a list of people I hurt...or-or killed as the Winter Soldier. I’ve met with most of them, or their remaining families, and done whatever I could do to make amends.”

(Y/N) looked at all the names again. All people from Bucky’s past. People he hurt when he didn’t even have control over his own body and mind. The crossed out names were people he felt he had made amends with.

Her name was one of the ones crossed out.

“Why am I here?” she asked. Her voice was so soft he may not have heard it if he didn’t have enhanced hearing.

“Do you remember that mission you went on that resulted in you leaving SHIELD?”

(Y/N) tensed. She remembered, although very slightly. She had some gaps in her memory from that night, but she remembered the most important part: that she had almost died.

The details of the mission were one of the foggy things. All she could remember was being sent to a supposed Hydra base with other SHIELD agents. She had gone off by herself. She was moving down what she thought was an empty hallway. That’s where her memory stopped. Next thing she knew, she had woken up in a hospital bed days later. Fury didn’t tell her many details, just that she was attacked and nearly lost her life. Another agent had luckily found her before it was too late.

Fury had offered to let (Y/N) be off as long as she needed. He assured her that her job would be waiting for her when she was ready to come back. Instead, (Y/N) quit on the spot.

When she finally dared to look up at Bucky, she saw that he was crying. She had been holding back her own emotions, but seeing Bucky break was enough to make her finally break too.

“It was me,” Bucky admitted, his voice breaking. “I did that to you.”

(Y/N)’s hands clutched the journal. She was tempted to rip it to shred and leave the pieces scattered all over the bedroom floor. Their bedroom floor. The bedroom in the house that they had bought together nearly a year ago.

“Was any of it real?”

She didn’t mean to say it out loud. It was a thought that slipped through her filter before she could stop herself. But it was also a question she needed an answer on. She had already spent three years of her life with Bucky, and had planned to spend the rest of it with him, too. But if all of this was just a way for him to “make amends” with her...that would’ve hurt her worse than finding out that the man she loved was the reason she almost died.

Although, that wasn’t Bucky. That’s what she had been telling him since he first told her about the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t in control, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was made to think he was a weapon to be used against anyone Hydra viewed as an enemy, and at that point in time, (Y/N) was the enemy in question.

But it was Bucky who had lied to her for three years. Post-brainwashed Bucky, who knew this whole time that he had hurt her when he was under Hydra’s spell. Who had sought her out to “make amends”, and just so happened to end up in a relationship with her.

Bucky seemed hurt by the question. “Of course! Of course, all of it was real. All of this is real.”

“You say that like it’s an outrageous thing to ask, but how can I not think that maybe this is how you decided to ‘make amends’ with me?”

She was standing now. She didn’t even notice she had stood, but now she was looking Bucky in the eye.

“Three years, Buck,” she continued. “We’ve been together for three years. You had so much time to tell me this, and you never did. Were you ever going to? Or were you just going to let me believe that we met by chance in a grocery store and fell in love and it was all happily ever after?”

“I tried to tell you,” he said. “When I first told you about my past, I wanted to tell you then. That was the whole reason I told you. But then you were being so understanding and kind, and you were making me feel less like a monster, I just...I couldn’t. I thought if I told you then...that you wouldn’t have been as understanding.”

“Bucky, I’m not upset or mad or scared of you because of what happened. I know that wasn’t you. That’s what I’ve been saying for ages, that you’re not the Winter Soldier. What I am upset about is that you didn’t tell me about this amends thing. You didn’t even mention that it was something you did. I had to find out three years into our relationship, which now has me questioning whether or not this whole thing was just a way for you to make amends with me.”

“No! No, (Y/N), it’s not - ”

He reached out for her and she took a step back. They both paused as (Y/N) realized what she did. She had done it out of anger, but the look in Bucky’s eyes told her that he was afraid she was doing it out of fear, too. That one look was enough to make her anger turn to sympathy. She was still angry, and she was sure that anger wasn’t going anywhere, but she could understand Bucky’s hesitance in telling her about the attack. That just wasn’t the issue she was currently having.

“How did you plan to make amends with me?” she asked. “Because if taking me out on that first date was your plan, I’m going to be so upset and hurt - ”

“No, not at all,” he cut her off. “We met ages before I asked you on a date, remember? You said it yourself, it was at the grocery store.”

“Had you been looking for me, though? Was that actually a chance encounter, or did you look for me?”

He hesitated before responded, “I had looked for you. You were one of the few people who were already in New York, so I went looking to find out where you lived and figured out which places you were likely to visit in that area. I didn’t follow you or anything, but I did go to some of those places frequently to try and run into you.”

(Y/N) didn’t think about the slight creepy and stalker way that sounded. She had to remind herself he was saying he didn’t do that to try and start a relationship with her.

“We got to talking, and you told me about the issues you were having in your apartment,” he said. “You said your landlord was a piece of shit and didn’t offer any help whenever you needed it. So, I offered to help. Remember, I was there basically a whole day just fixing whatever issues you had?”

She remembered. She had been hesitant to accept the offer from a strange man she had only met moments before in a grocery store, but her old apartment was basically falling apart. She had done the best she could to fix whatever she knew how, but there were still so many issues, and her landlord kept blowing her off whenever she had talked to him about it. She was desperate. Not to mention she still had her SHIELD training if Bucky had ended up trying to pull anything while he was there.

“That was my amends,” he told her. “I knew it could never measure up to what I did to you, but it was something you needed done and I helped you. I crossed you off the list then and there, and I completely left you alone. I hadn’t thought about you for months after that, until...”

“Until we ran into each other on the street,” she remembered.

It was three or four months after Bucky had fixed up her apartment when she saw a familiar face walking the packed sidewalk of New York. She had been the one to initiate the conversation then. Bucky hadn’t even seemed to notice her until she waved him down and called out his name.

“And you basically begged for my number so we could keep in contact,” he reminded her. “I tried to stay away. I knew it was wrong, sick even, for me to get involved with you at all. But you had these big, pleading eyes, and you wouldn’t really take no for an answer. And then we got to talking, and one thing led to another and I found myself asking you on a date.”

When Bucky stepped towards her, reaching for her again, (Y/N) didn’t pull away. Instead, she let him take her into his arms. He was slow, giving her the option to pull away if she wanted to, and when she didn’t he pulled her all the way to him. She rested her head on his chest as he put his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry I never told you,” he said. “I know I should’ve. It’s eaten away at me for so long. But at time went on, I just fell more and more in love, and I was scared. I was selfish. You never should’ve had to find out this way.”

(Y/N) sighed. “No, I shouldn’t have. You should’ve told me when things really started to get serious. Especially about the amends stuff.”

“I know. I’m sorry, doll.” He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. “I understand if you need time to process everything. Like I said, I know it was wrong to pursue a relationship after what I did to you - ”

“How many times will I have to remind you that you are not the Winter Soldier?” she asked, pulling away so she could look at him. “Honestly, knowing that doesn’t affect our relationship. I fell in love with Bucky Barnes, the kind man who is carrying such a large burden on his shoulders because of other people who are actually evil. That part of the story isn’t what upsets me. It’s finding out that I was on an amendment list and not knowing how much of this relationship was actually real.”

Bucky cupped her face with his flesh hand, almost like he was afraid of her reaction to his metal arm now that she knew the truth. “All of it is real. I love you so, so much, (Y/N). I can’t imagine my life without you.”

She leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

He pulled her in for a kiss, but she pulled away. “You’ll have to add me back to that list.”

He looked at her, confused. “What?”

“After learning about all of this, you have to make a new amendment with me. Say, breakfast in bed? Oh, or maybe that puppy you keep conveniently forgetting we agreed to get?”

He smiled and pulled her to him again. When he kissed her, she didn’t pull away.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give you the whole world if it proves to you how much I love you.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Let’s start smaller with the puppy instead.”

Bucky chuckled. “Deal. We’ll go to the pound next week.”

“Tomorrow.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

[jungkookstatts]

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

[gotham-daydreams]

How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.

I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!

I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.

Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.

Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.

Nevertheless, back to the reader!

From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.

One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.

Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!

They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.

Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.

When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.

So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.

Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.

It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.

Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.

The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.

The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.

It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.

Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.

However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.

Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.

You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.

Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!

Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.

So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.

Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.

He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.

No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.

Let's just say, things work out a little too well.

---

As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!

Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!

I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.

So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.

This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.

... Hopefully.

I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.

Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.

Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.

Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.

The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!

Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.

Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)

I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.

Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.

The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.

So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.

Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.

Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.

So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.

I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?

So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.

I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

My beautiful, stupid maid

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, Donna's POV

Word count: 5,080

Summary: I don't know why I don't want you to leave...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!! Requests are open!! I love you all!!!

I thought I like to be alone.

Everyone told me: you need some company. They don’t know me. My family, as they call themselves, care about me, or so they think they do. I don't need helpless maids running through the halls. I don't need to waste time on people I don't care about. My life doesn’t revolve around achieving power, around needing the feeling of being above others, like my siblings do.

I was always a lonely woman, and Mother Miranda's gift could change many things, but not that. Not that.

Angie was everything I needed.

I know what they think about me, what they talk about: “Poor Donna, she's so lonely…” “She's not mentally developed,” “she only cares about her stupid dolls…” Comments that they think I don't hear.

To be honest, I never cared about that. I know what I’m, what place in the world there was for me. My dolls, my house, my loneliness. Sometimes I lose my mind and cry without wanting to. Sometimes I want to end the meaninglessness that my life has become. Angie takes me away from those thoughts, she calms me down. I didn't need anything but to keep serene and continue existing.

At least I thought I didn't need anything else.

Then you showed up.

“Mother Miranda has granted me the honor of working for you, Lady Beneviento,” you said, appearing in my house, in my territory. In all this time, many villagers had been stupid enough to approach my house.

None of them returned. Thanks to the gift that was given to me, I could enjoy seeing the fear in their eyes, seeing how terrible their thoughts are. At first I had to admit that I was even afraid of myself.

The human mind is so fragile... How much people can suffer just with their own memories is incredible. For some reason, I didn't feel the need to torture you.

You seemed shy, but you didn't stop smiling, even with my fervent refusal. I couldn't disobey Mother Miranda, and I couldn't stop looking into those bright, strange eyes.

Angie was just a lost part of my consciousness, some thoughts that left my mind when I granted her the gift of life. She thought that for you to work for me was a good idea. Not me.

I didn't even know your name, but I opened the doors of my house to you. Who was I to argue with Mother Miranda's demands? Maybe I just got carried away with Angie.

I tried to avoid you. I didn't want to think that you were here, with me, that I was no longer alone. But you... You came to me, like a fly to a light trap, blinded, surely by your innocence, heading towards danger.

“Is everything to your liking, my lady?” “Would you like me to make you some tea, my lady?” Always those stupid questions. Hearing your voice was nothing but torture for me, a reminder that you were still there, that, no matter how much your presence bothered me, I was not capable of throwing you out or of making you hallucinate so you would run away from here, so you would never come back.

Silence was always my response, the affirmation that I didn't want you to be here. I have never had the ability or the need to talk to anyone, not even to my siblings. You were not going to be an exception.

My lady... What stupidity is that? I didn't want to be your lady. I didn't want you to consider yourself my property. I was alone, and I liked it.

Unfortunately, time only revealed your annoying presence. My routine is always the same and to trip with you was inevitable. I curse the Black Gods for turning my gaze towards yours.

What a maid... You were clumsy. You didn't know how to clean properly. You served no purpose other than to disrupt my existence. But I could never hurt you. It didn't matter how many vases you broke, how many times you burned the food. I felt incapable of scolding you, of throwing you out of my house.

Someday I woke up with the decision to put an end to that stuff, to make you suffer and disappear forever. Those thoughts faded the moment my hidden gaze met yours again.

That smile, those eyes... That messy hair and the dress that framed your figure made me back away, give you another chance. Chance? I didn't want you to be here. I never wanted you to come to my house. I didn't want to see your stupid smile. I didn't want to, and yet, I felt the need to see you.

Are you also a creation of Mother Miranda?

I know that she experiments on villagers, that she creates aberrations. Could you be one of them? What exactly has the Cadou done to you? Were you some kind of sorceress?

I've read too many books about witches, about mermaids who trick sailors into taking their souls. I always thought they were stupid stories to scare children. But the more I look at you, the more I think you're like a witch from those stories, or like a mermaid. Do you want to trick me into taking my soul? Too late, girl, it's been a long time since I had a soul.

“Good morning, my lady, did you sleep well?” you asked every morning. My ability to ignore you faltered over time. Anyway, I couldn't lose anything by nodding.

That was my worst mistake, making you believe that I was somehow communicating with you. That small gesture gave you more confidence in yourself. It made you believe that you could annoy me even more.

One night I tried to relax, sit by the fireplace and read another of those mermaid stories. Suddenly, I felt the need to know more about these creatures. Somehow, I was afraid that you were one of them. That the movement my head made, forcing me to follow you with my gaze, was some kind of spell from you.

“Excuse me, my lady,” you said to me, with the nerve to put a hand on my shoulder. I was startled, but I knew how to hide it so you wouldn't notice.

I nodded for you to talk, even though I didn't want you to, what is happening to me?

“I'm a bit bored, I was wondering if you could recommend me a book,” you said with your hands together in front of your body, with that formality that I knew you didn't have.

I was thoughtful for a moment. My hands shook as they held Homer's Odyssey. Your mermaid song was not going to be able to defeat me, you stupid maid.

“A book?” I asked without realizing it, letting out my voice, a voice that I hadn't used for a long time and that I didn't want to use precisely with you. I had to calm down, or you would trick me.

“Yes, well... Books about plants are interesting but...” You said, looking away from my hateful gaze.

Did you mean to joke? What made you think you could joke with me? Moron.

“I've been looking for something a bit more entertaining but I can't find anything. Also, most of them are in Italian and I… Well, I can’t read them.”

I shook my head. Fortunately, you couldn't see my face. A smile involuntarily spread across it.

“My family was Italian,” I said in a hoarse voice, giving her an absurd explanation, which she certainly didn’t deserve.

“Oh, okay,” you whispered nervously.

Why were you nervous? Oh, sure... In these three months and five days you hadn't heard me speak. I have a horrible voice, right? I'm sure you hate me even more now. Everybody hates me.

The light from the fireplace rested on your face, dancing in your eyes, on your skin. Have you hypnotized me? I couldn’t stop looking at you.

I sighed listlessly, looking for an excuse for your eyes to stop enchanting me. I got up from the couch, looking for something that would keep you entertained, quiet. Your voice is beautiful, but I don't want to hear it. Beautiful?

“For whom the bell tolls... Ernest Hemingway,” you said when I finally gave you a book so you would leave me alone. You just had to take the damn book and get out of my sight. It wasn't that difficult, was it? “It’s a good one?”

“Yes, it is,” I responded with a dry throat, nervous about the subtle contact my hand made brushing against yours. When I touched you, the porcelain of my dolls came to my mind. Soft, delicate…

“Thank you, I promise that tomorrow I won't burn the toast,” you said amused, were you trying to make me laugh? Good luck with that.

Something had changed in your attitude. I wondered if hearing me talk had anything to do with it. I didn't want you to be here. I hate you, stupid maid.

Time passed slowly. I found myself counting the days, the hours you spent with me. Your overconfidence was disgusting. Some nights, you sat next to me, reading that book, commenting each of the things that seemed curious to you. I have already read it, you silly maid. I don't need to hear your... Your beautiful voice.

I've never been right in the head, I know that. Since I was little I had problems. Problems with my appearance, with people... I have never gotten over it and I never will. My past is a field of thorns that stick into my skin every night when I try to sleep.

But... My demons were not keeping me awake, your eyes were, those two beautiful pearls that you had on your face, ones that I couldn't stop looking at. What are you doing to me? What is happening to me? I feel weak, tired. I'm not hungry, I'm not sleepy. I don't feel like getting out of my bed, to face your gaze again.

Sitting at my old dressing table, I look at my deformed face in a mirror. I'm a monster. I should have gotten used to seeing myself like that, to having that horrible thing on my face, just as I got used to the changes in my body when I became Mother Miranda's daughter.

I felt my heart sink as I looked at myself in that mirror. A deformed monster, a strange creature, an aberration. Those statements that were going through my head were more present than ever.

“What's wrong, Donna?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap. My sweet and faithful Angie, I don't know what I would have done without you.

“I'm a monster, Angie,” I murmured, with a tear running down my untouched cheek. I can't tell how many times I have burst into tears because of that. That night was different.

“No, no, that's not true,” the doll said. I wish I could believe her words. Angie was my creation. She was part of my consciousness. She would never hurt me... I don't even know what Angie is exactly anymore. “The maid likes you…”

“What?” I said startled.

I know Angie wanted to make me feel better, but she was never particularly good at it.

She couldn't lie to me. She didn't have the ability to do so.

Do you like me? What nonsense. I know you don’t. I know it's impossible. Anyway…why am I worried? Why I didn’t stop thinking about those words?

Love is a luxury that I could never enjoy. Loving a woman, being loved... Those were just fantasies in my head, a fictitious feeling that, like mermaids, only lived in my books.

Every day I kept seeing your stupid… Beautiful… Smile. You were still here, you hadn't left. I couldn't say when I started to worry about you leaving. I didn’t want you to be here but... I didn't want you to leave. I had never felt so many contradictions at the same time. I had never suffered so many anxiety attacks in the safety of my room.

You never saw me lose my temper. I didn't want you to see me like that. For some reason, I didn't want to.

I tried to push you away, but you were getting closer, touching me with your dress, touching my hand when you handed me a cup of tea. Were you really the one who did it? Was my hand subtly caressing your skin? It didn't seem to bother you either.

You were still here, like every day, torturing me with your eyes, with your smile, with your movements when you walked near me. Your gaze was tender and respectful, but your body wasn’t. Your body caused sensations that I always ignored in me.

“That doll is beautiful, Donna,” you whispered, taking my tea to the workshop. That place was always a refuge, the only place in the house where my thoughts were not focused on you.

“Thank you,” I said. To let my voice speak for me didn’t take long. I had been doing it for so long that I no longer stopped to think why it wasn't difficult for me to do it with you.

“Look, it has my eyes,” you said amused, gently picking up the newly made doll.

A heaviness in my head said there was something wrong. Yes, you were right. That damn doll had your beautiful eyes. Wait, shouldn't I say: That beautiful doll had your damn eyes?

“Yes, well, I...” I stammered, confused. I hadn't even realized it. Even without thinking about you, I was doing it. Even when I made my dolls, I put your same hair to them, your eyes, the marks that I could see on your skin… I was no longer safe even in my own workshop.

“It's very nice,” you whispered, returning the doll to me with a sigh. “Anyway, I think I should start making the soup… You liked it with a bit of dill, right?”

“Yes... I... Yes, yes,” I stammered, nodding, but without looking at your face. I was just looking at the doll, at your vivid portrait made unconsciously. I could no longer deny how obsessed I was with you, that I thought about you even without doing it.

I refused to believe it was love or anything like that. At night I tossed and turned in bed, thinking about what spell you had used on me. Your eyes stopped appearing in my nightmares, and now they were present in my most beautiful dreams. In them I see you, I see us together, close, with our hands intertwined. They were just dreams... Dreams in which I don't have that horrible thing on my face, in which your eyes shine when you look at me, in which your lips... In which your lips are too close to mine.

I felt unable to ignore the sensations that the mere fact of being close to you caused me. Love is something absurd, a waste of time. Everyone wants to hurt you, Donna, don't forget that.

My head fought with my heart, with the trembling of my hands when I was close to yours. You always were here with that smile, with that look, making me unable to think about anything but in your lips on mine, in your body very close to mine.

The nights got worse. Drawing your image in my thoughts usually helped me to stay calm and sleep, dreaming about you. Not anymore. I can no longer let myself be carried away by my feelings. The sensations were different, physical, overwhelming. I no longer imagined your smile, or a simple kiss. No, now your body was naked next to mine, now my caresses no longer wandered over your face, but over your chest, your waist, your legs…

Lust is a sin, or so my parents said. I was never ignorant, or stupid. My body had needs, and even more so after the change that Cadou produced in me. I thought it was routine, something necessary...

One more task to be calm, to relax. My mind traveled to unknown places, imagining faceless women while I soothed myself with my hands. It was pleasant, but empty, lacking in feelings or the desire to do it. I simply wanted to relieve my body so that my mind wouldn't become destabilized.

That night, my body was calling me again. No matter how much I tried to get my excitement to relax, I wasn't able to do so. I wanted something, my body wanted something, and I had to give that to it.

My hands moved down my nightclothes to my trembling erection, stroking it gently. Maybe it was my impression, but I could feel much more than other times... The difference? There were no longer faceless women in my head or erotic stories hidden in one of my books. I was thinking about you.

I felt the need to end that discomfort between my legs as quickly as possible and for some reason, I thought that including you in my lascivious thoughts might help. Quite the opposite. The pleasure of my hand going up and down, the gasps that came out of my mouth involuntarily made me want to go slower. I wanted to keep thinking about what it would be like to be inside of you, to hear you moan with your mermaid voice, to see you closing those bright eyes while I made you mine.

My movements were fast, but intense. My head was imagining how good it would feel to have the images in my head come true. To release myself didn't take long, but I felt I enjoyed doing it too much.

Cleaning myself in the bathroom, I looked the mirror again. My face was red and my breathing was labored. I wiped my hands with a towel and stood there, looking at my reflection, feeling a pang in my heart at the thought that everything I dream of were just fantasies.

I felt guilty for enjoying myself at your expense, for masturbating thinking about you, but... I also felt frustrated by how absurd was to think about how far my feelings had gone. So much so that I lost the little decency I had, the deal I made with myself not to fall in love, not to feel the need to hug a human body instead of a porcelain doll.

In my incipient desperation, I called my sister Alcina, telling her everything that was happening to me. Angie gave me nothing but absurd advices. I needed the opinion of someone more... Experienced.

It was of no use to me. According to her, my need to make that stupid maid mine was absurd. “You are a powerful woman, Donna. If you want something from that girl, just take it. She will never contradict you, for her own sake.”

Everything was so easy for a woman like Alcina...

A dark part of my mind seriously considered following her advice. I never felt remorse for torturing those stupid villagers, why would I feel remorse for taking what I want to make mine?

But no, that part of me that I'm ashamed of had to shut up. I couldn't just… No, I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do it, but I wanted to. I wanted you in an unbearable way.

The nights were torture, the days were even worse. At least at night I just had to imagine you, I didn't have to feel you, I didn't have to touch your hand. Yes, you kept rubbing your hand with mine. Have you ever done that? It was me? I wouldn't know how to answer. I would like to ask you, but I don't dare to do it.

You are killing me, you stupid, beautiful maid. You kill me slowly, you make me fall in love with you without mercy, you look at me, you talk to me... You are here with me. I’m here with you. You don't want to leave. I don't want you to leave.

One afternoon, I tried to escape from my carnal desires, from the feelings that filled my head. I was painting dolls, sewing without rest. I had been doing it for hours, I didn't know how many.

“Sorry for bothering you,” you said politely, entering disrespectfully, interrupting my bitterness.

“What do you want? I'm busy,” my words were cold, lacking that softness with which they always spoke to you.

“I'm sorry, it's just that... It's just that I... I have to clean this up. It's the last room before being able to rest,” you said shyly. Was it me or your cheeks were blushing? What were you thinking about? You were thinking about another way to fool me? Stop it. You've already done it. I feel that if I were a sailor, I would already be drifting, desperately searching to hear your siren song again.

“Okay,” I said briefly, avoiding your tender smile, looking at that doll, looking at your eyes on it again.

As you moved around my workshop, my clumsy and trembling hands made the task of painting correctly impossible. With you here, to concentrate was impossible for me.

My thoughts began to spin out of control as I tilted my head to look at you. There you were, leaning over one of the dusty tables. You looked at me, like you knew I was doing the same thing. I looked away and squeezed my hands tightly.

If you want something from her, just take it.

The phrase my sister said appeared in my head suddenly, treacherously, just at the moment when my crazy gaze was directed at the small spot that you had very close to your neckline. One I couldn't forget.

My actions took control of my body, causing me to get up slowly, like a shadow that stalks you without realizing it.

I wanted to tell you so many things... I wanted to be able to talk to you about my feelings before approaching you from behind, running a hand through your hair, brushing it away from your shoulders.

You stood still, but you didn't complain, you didn't turn around and slap me for my impudence. No, you seemed like butter under my touch, under my hands on your shoulders, on your neck.

An unexpected gasp left your lips as I got closer and closer, feeling your subtle but intoxicating perfume, feeling the heat of your body passing through my dress.

“I can't stop thinking about you...” I whispered without meaning to, confessing an undeniable truth, confessing that you are not the stupid maid that I didn’t want to have. You were the girl I wanted to love.

“Donna...” You sighed, when I removed the veil from my face to place my lips on your pale skin, behind your perfect ear.

When I started to be just Donna to you? What about the my lady thing?

Kissing your skin was like a cold breeze on a hot day, like laughing when you're sad. It was a feeling of relief, of pleasure.

Even being behind you, I could feel your heavy breathing. What did you feel? Were you in hell or in paradise?

I couldn't know and I didn't want to know. My hands worked on their own, covering every inch of your body while my mouth was cruel to your neck.

Having your chest in my hands, passing my fingers through the fabric that covered your breasts... All that things I imagined at night were mine in that moment. A part of my conscience was screaming for me to stop, to be sure that you wanted to do it. No, dear maid, I wasn’t going to ask.

You turned around slowly, letting my hands continue roaming your body. You weren't supposed to do that. You were supposed to run away.

“I think about you too...” You whispered, moving my black veil aside. There was nothing to fear anymore. You would be with me or you would disappear from my life. My face didn't matter. I didn’t care if you thought I was a monster. I was willing to force you.

Your smile remained tender, relaxed at the sight of my exposed face. There was no horror in your eyes, disgust in your gaze. No, there was only… Peace, tranquility, and that smile that kept me awake at nights.

“You are even more beautiful than I imagined,” you said, bringing your hand to my deformed cheek, running your fingers over my scar, as if it were nothing, as if it were of no importance to you.

I grabbed your wrist to stop you before leaning towards you, before placing my lips on yours. I had never kissed anyone and I was thankful I hadn't. Your kiss was my first one.

Little by little I moved closer, making your back collide with the edge of the table. I couldn't stop kissing you. I didn't want to stop kissing you. Your lips were addictive. They were everything I had imagined. Your body against mine, your hands going down my waist, you and me...

I could no longer contain my desire to make you mine, to love you, to make love you. I was willing to force you to do it, to not listen to your screams, to make you run away. I didn't have to. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who rubbed my hands with yours. You did it too.

My need to love you was put before romance, caresses, kisses and affectionate whispers in your ear. I had spent too much time thinking about how I felt about you. I didn't want to tell you, I wanted to show you.

I lifted your body by your legs, sitting you on the table, drowning in your kisses, letting my hands touch whatever they wanted... Just like yours. I felt like such a simple act was more than enough to feel my arousal rubbing against my underwear. You were irresistible, a goddess, a mermaid, a witch... But above all, you were going to be mine.

I looked at you, wishing it wasn't a dream and you were really there. You smiled again. What have you done to me? What did I do to you? Have you fooled me? Have I tricked you? Did you also think of me as if I were a mermaid?

Absurd questions that my body didn't have time for. I needed you, my beautiful maid. With a hasty movement, I put my hands into your dress while you hung around my neck, making to concentrate on loving you harder for me, kissing me eagerly, with a desire that I was unaware of.

Your underwear disappeared around your ankles as your hands left my neck, to play on my chest, to free me from my own clothes. Were you in a hurry as I was?

When I finally had access to you, my body moved on its own, lifting your legs slightly, remaining enthralled by those hidden corners of your body.

 You didn't say anything about what was between my legs. You just looked at it curiously. I don't like being looked at, tesoro, you should know that.

You bit your lip, but you didn't say anything. You just pulled me so that my erection rubbed against your wetness. There was nothing else to say, but there were a lot of things to do.

I entered you hastily, feeling a wave of unimaginable pleasure. I was not delicate, nor kind. I didn't know if someone had ever loved you, I didn't want to know either. Your walls hugged me tightly, keeping me right where you wanted, making you moan in a way that I already knew would drive me crazy.

You had more clothes than in my dreams, but the sensations you sent to my body every time they moved exceeded my expectations. You hugged me so well... You took it so well... You were perfect, as if your body was made just for me.

“Don't stop, Donna...” You begged, writhing on that table. My thrusts had relaxed as I looked at you, as I closely admired your beauty without the veil between us. I just shook my head, kissing you passionately as my hips resumed their movements.

“I think... I think I love you...” I whispered with a voice low enough so you couldn't hear it, camouflaging it between our moans. There came a time when I decided to close my eye and not look at you anymore.

Behind you, the dolls that I made rested, looking at me. They were judging me. I wasn't going to let my problems ruin that moment. My sick mind was not going to stop me from continuing to make love to you.

“My God, Donna... I'm so close...” You murmured, ignoring my declaration of love. Why would I want you to answer me? I said it in a way I which you wouldn't hear me.

My hips went out of control and my arms hugged your body, keeping it close to me, not letting you stop hugging me with your walls, not letting me stop making my way inside of you.

I stopped just when the pleasure became unbearable, letting my heat flood inside you, releasing myself inside you, making you mine forever.

You panted, exhausted. Your nails had scratched my skin as I cum. Did that mean you did it too?

“I think... I think I love you too,” you murmured, responding late to my statement, to my confession, hugging me, kissing me with affection, with that affection that I lacked.

“Don’t dare to leave,” I said with a dark voice, before consuming myself again in your kisses.

“I won't do it,” you answered on my lips, keeping me inside of you, not wanting to separate you from me.

I thought I liked being alone, but now I know I couldn't live without you.

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I sure do! Watch this..."

"I can make explosive spears and throwables, just like my mom did. I can also propel myself in the air by whipping my tail very fast, which sets off the same flammable compound in my tail surface for an explosive boost. Very handy for movement, but also very loud… not great if you're trying to be stealthy. And yeah, my sibling could do that too, but he was always more interested in doing other things. An energetic but very scatterbrained kid that he was."

[She takes aim and throws the spear somewhere far away. It ignites and explodes with a loud dull bang that shakes the ground slightly]

"I can't do that too often, though. Maybe a handful of times in quick succession before my muscles tense up and burn as if scorched by flames. One time it got so bad that I lost consciousness and couldn't move for a couple of minutes after waking up. That was scary, and hurt like hell... since then I've been more careful. That said, I wonder if there are more slugcats with similar abilities to mine out there? I have not met that many scugs in my life to begin with, if I'm honest..."

"Of course I remember my family, how could I not! My sibling's name is… hmmm, right, let me explain this first. Slugcats have very good sense of smell. Usually, we know one another by our unique scents. They are incredibly complex, but can be written down as series of letters, if you map those symbols to the corresponding scent proteins and other chemical compounds. For example, my scent name would be:"

"Addmitely, this notation method is very over-engineered – a slugcat just knows you are you if they smell you. From what I learned, scugs don't really use a coherent writing system.. of any kind. I think the colonies may use pictograms? I uh, I've never been a part of a colony, so I'm missing a lot of info here. Still, what I wrote on the wall – I have used an Ancient script, which I roughly mapped to key compounds that make a scent. As you can see, it's incredibly long, it can also change over time, parts of it can be masked with non-organic aromas to hide your identity, so on and so forth. To simplify even further, these long strings of letters can be shortened to just the last three or two characters, and this is what scugs may choose to use to refer to one another. Here, my scent name is MGV."

"Then, there are names that resemble the form that the Ancients would use. It's considered more refined, and more common in big colonies where people adopt their preferable roles. Those names are viewed as a kind of «gift», because you receive it from your community. It's a symbol of how they see you, what you mean to them. Of course, my closest family was never a part of a colony… but my mom would still give me and my sibling those special names. I was named «Blue», which is the color of the sky above when it's not raining, and the color of clear water. My brother's name is «Bryn» after a very fragrant medicinal plant that relaxes your muscles when consumed. I always found it funny, as my brother was often the one getting in trouble and giving our mom heartaches."

[She pauses for a moment, thinking intensively]

"Hmm, I never thought of asking my mother about her name. I wonder if she had one? To me and it was always just «mom»…"

"My other parent? I never knew him. Must have left just before or right after my mom had me, because there is literally nothing I remember of him… or them… whoever they were."

[She takes some pearls out from her bag, and inspects them one by one just to keep her hands busy]

"Mom would never talk about him, as if he never existed. And I never questioned her, I was too young to understand and simply accepted everything at face value. It was just the way things were. Would I want to meet my other parent? Maybe, but I doubt it'd make a difference. What would I even say to them? «Thanks for abandoning mom and leaving her to fend for herself»? "

"I don't know. Maybe I'm too harsh. Maybe he was a hero who sacrificed themself to save my mother. That could explain why he was never seen or heard of again. But… I have no way of knowing for sure. It's the life I won't be getting back anyway."

// In the second drawing, I've used logographs from @ikayblythe's Standard Hegemonic Dialect

[ravenslvt]

in love with your writing and politely requesting afab reader x Leon. basically reader was in a shitty controlling relationship before getting with Leon. her ex would isolate her & wouldn’t let her talk to her friends & family, would control what she wore, wouldn’t let her go out, etc.

when her and Leon are getting ready to go out to dinner with some friends, she’s already nervous about the fact they’re going out with friends. on top of that she silently frets over wanting to wear a dress that shows some cleavage and her back, worried Leon will make her change/call her an attention whore for dressing that way like her ex did. but instead he comforts her and reassures her sweetly and also with a quickie before dinner

☆ leon s kennedy x f!reader ☆

cw: mentions of past toxic relationship, comforting, smut, body worshiping, unprotected sex, short and simple

you sigh looking in the full body mirror in front of you. your nerves on edge.

the dress your boyfriend had bought you looked good on you, maybe too good you thought. the flattering neckline exposed your cleavage while the back of the dress was low cut, revealing your back. you were scared leon might not like it or want you to wear something more modest.

the furrow in your brow was obvious to leon as he walked into his room. on instinct, your arms cross against your chest to cover yourself as he walks in. you practically spent everynight at his apartment at this point. he walks up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your middle and bringing you close to him.

“everything ok?” he softly asks, moving your hair to the side to give your neck a small kiss. his eyes glued to your dress in the mirror. “you look beautiful, baby” one of his cold hands moves down to your bare back, giving you chills.

“i was gonna put a jacket on, it might be too much for a fancy restaurant…” you say, a frown on your face. you just stared at yourself. you knew if this was a year ago, your ex would be telling you how desperate you were for wearing something so revealing. how you were basically begging for other mens attention.

you were so happy when you met leon, he was completley obsessed with you since the first day you met. but still, the memories of your past always lingered in your mind in situations like these.

leon noticed the way your thoughts wondered and he hugged you tigher. “c’mon. you look absolutely gorgeous. i can’t wait to show you off to all our friends, they’re gonna be so jealous i’m the one taking you home” he chuckles lightly, kissing down your cheek.

“are you sure? what if it’s cold… maybe i can just-“ you start, but he cuts you off with more kisses.

you giggle “leonn, you’re gonna smear my makeup” you try to swat him away, but he just holds you tighter.

“can’t i show my beautiful girlfriend some love, hmm?” he continues kissing your face, moving down to your neck.

“if you keep this up, we’re gonna be late” you pout, but don’t protest his actions. he just smiles, sucking a small hickey onto your neck like a horny teenager. you just lean back into him as his hands run up and down your body.

you whine and crane your head to look up at him when he cups your breasts through your dress with his large hands.

“god, what did i do to deserve you, princess?” he groans. you could feel something hard against your ass and you gasped his name. the way he could get hard just from looking at you.

“let me show you how much you mean to me.” he slowly grinded his errection into your rear, making you mewl.

he pulled away, making you pout. you turn around and he sat on the bed that faced the large mirror. your eyebrow raised curiously. he just hold out a hand for you to grab onto and you oblige. as soon as your hands meet, he kisses your knuckles before pulling you onto the bed with him, making you let out a yelp of suprise. he pins you under him, a blissed out look on his face. he was so entranced with everything you do.

he finally kisses your lips feverishly, like he couldn’t pull away. you knew your lipgloss was ruined by now, but neither of you seemed to mind.

he bit your lip and you gasped. he chuckled from how responsive you always were, kissing you even deeper. his lips pull back to trail down your body. your jaw, neck, chest, breasts. he carefully bunches your long dress up to your waist, careful not to wrinkle the expensive fabric. even if he did ruin it, he’d buy you as many more as you wanted.

the cool air hit your bare legs, your panties on display for him. they were the same color as the dress, making him smile. ‘so cute’ he thought. you giggle as he kisses down your stomach, a bit ticklish. he was at your thighs, kissing and giving small bites to the plush skin. you perch up on your elbows to get a better view. your boyfriend was so handsome. with every kiss he left in his wake, he gave praises.

“you’re so perfect. you’re all i ever need” he repeats until his lips hover over your clothed pussy. you give him a pleading look and grip his dirty blonde hair, making him smile. he rips your panties down your legs, stuffing them in his pockets, making you gasp.

“leonnn, i need those!” you exclaim. he just chuckles and gives your dampened cunt a kiss. he has to pin your thighs down to prevent them from squirming around. he licks a long stripe up your folds, making you shiver. his tounge flicks your clit, hardening his tounge to circle it, making you tug at his hair.

he starts to suck at your sensitive bud, making you practically scream out. he circles your tight hole with one of his long fingers, slowly inserting it, making you whine out into the bedroom air. his finger pumps in and out, adding another, sending you over the edge.

you chant his name as you shake in his hold, his fingers basically jackhammering into you as is lips sucked your clit expertly. he knew your body inside and out at this point.

“fuck leon! i’m gonna cum, baby, i’m-“ you cut yourself on with a boderline pornographic scream as you clench around his fingers, soaking his face and hand with your wetness. he fucks you through your orgasm until you’re pushing at his head, panting. he reluctantly pulled away, shoving his fingers in his mouth, licking himself clean. you groan from the sight. the sheets under you were soaked.

“kiss me” you mumble, reaching your hands out for him. he smiles and leans up to give you a kiss. you groan as you taste yourself on his tounge. he was almost crushing you with his strong body, you could feel his large cock straining against his suit pants. your hands unbutton his trousers, trying to push them down his hips. “off” you say into his mouth. he obeys, standing for a moment to take his pants and boxers off. his cock standing proudly as he stroked himself. no matter how many times you’ve seen it, you will never get over his sheer size. you were suprised it fit everytime you guys fucked.

he hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you closer to him so he could line himself up with your hole. he dragged his weeping cock up and down your slick folds, lubricanting himself. “stop teasing” you whine, shifting your hips to try and get him inside. he leans down to kiss you and slowly enters you, his thick cock giving you a delicious stretch even with all the foreplay. you gasp once he fully bottoms out, his cock already hitting the spot deep inside of you. “you always feel so perfect” he almost growls out, feeling your walls around him.

you moan his name as his hips slap against you, thrusting in and out over and over. he groans at the sight of your tits bouncing in your dress. he paws at them, squeezing and groping. “fuck, baby. i wanna be inside you forever” he practically whines. his praises going straight to your messy pussy. he was already emberassingly close from how fucking hot you looked and how good you felt. his thumb went to pinch your clit, making you squeeze around him. “s’big leon ohmygod” your eyes shut closed as you felt the overwhelming pleasure starting to take over. his plushy tip hitting your soft spot with every thrust.

“gonna cum all over my cock, princess? c’mon i know you can do it, pretty” his thrusts only get harder and faster as the speed of his thumb on your clit quickens. you scream out his name as you cum around him, the overstimulation feeling so so good.

he rides out your orgasm until his hips sputter, cuming inside of you deeply with a loud moan of your name. he collapses on top of you, his dick softening inside of you. “leon, can’t breathe” you hit his shoulder lightly. he just chuckles and sits up, pulling out of you before kissing you again. he admired your fucked out state, your makeup completley ruined now. he takes a few tissues, kissing your thighs before cleaning up the area around your ruined pussy. you yelp as his tounge enters your sensitive hole, lapping the mixture of your release up with his skilled tounge. once he was done, he carefully puts your dress back on. he cleans up the mascara that was running down your cheek, and the smeared lip gloss around your mouth.

“thank you” you softly smile at him, sitting up and fixing your messy hair. “for what?” he tucks himself back into his dress pants, looking back at you. “for being the best boyfriend, i guess” you giggle, slowly scooting off the bed. there was an intense throbbing in your lower area, making you hiss. he chuckles, giving you one last kiss and helping you fix yourself up. “don’t gotta thank me, baby. i don’t know how i could live without you” he reaches out his hand.

“now c’mon. we’re already late” he stands and helps you up, your legs a bit shakey.

“give me my underwear” you hold out your hand for him to give them back. he gives a smug smile, just grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles again.

“not a chance” he smirks.

masterlist

a/n: thank u for this request!!! i wrote this all in one sitting for once it was mostly smut but i can’t help it, i’m obsessed w him.

[puck-luck]

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out. 

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised. 

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!”

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

[ham1lton]

i’m with the band.

pairing(s): lando norris x singer!reader

warnings: v slightly angsty? but happy ending.

summary: pop band CHANGE! has just released their anticipated third album; however, fans notice that the songs seem to tell an unsavoury story….

author's note: i didn’t know whether u wanted me to do a happy song or sad but i like drama. i refer to y/n’s bandmates by their roles. so guitarist, bassist and drummer so you can add their names in! also this album is loosely based on SAWAYAMA and 5sos’s album youngblood. listen to them both if u haven’t!! incredible albums. if you can name all these songs that have been mentioned then MWAH!!! 😍

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liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 3,388,728 others.

changeband: thank you so much to the best, coolest and awesomest fans in the fucking planet. shoutout to everyone who showed up to our listening party in philly last week! you were metal as hell and we loved meeting everyone of you. no more fomo for the rest of you all now that our newest album is now out! please stream and buy and recommend to your friends and family and colleagues and even that annoying neighbour that everyone hates. we love you and we love this album!! here are some behind the scenes pics of us making and brainstorming this baby!

view all 288,938 comments

user1: this album is sooo good!

user2: ooh y/n got her masters in cuntology with a concentration in motherlogical studies from the university of servington… that NOTE in dynasty??? oh goddddd.

-> user4: DYNAAAASSSSTTTTYYYY 🗣️🔊

user3: the casual photo dump like they haven’t released the album of the CENTURY?

user8: you guys have come such a far way from working minimum wage and having to pool money for a recording booth omg. i’m so proud of you guys 🥺

*liked by changeband.*

user5: the way guitarist is eating this album. whoever greenlit her guitar solos i want to kiss them on the mouth.

user28: bad friend is my fav! both the acoustic vers and the normal vers!! PUT UR HANDS UP IF UR NOT GOOD AT THIS STUFF!!!! 😍😍

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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 278,727 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: girl band CHANGE! have released their new album ‘babylon’ and it has sent twitter in flames after the first tweet (pictured above) went viral. especially after the songs ‘lie to me’ and ‘want u back’ both contain lyrics that have sent fans of the power couple lando norris and y/n l/n spiralling. what do you all think of the drama ham1ltons?

view all 20,783 comments

user1: i do think it’s slightly suspicious… not necessarily a break up confirmation but it’s interesting. especially as she didn’t even bother to confirm or deny whether or not they’re still together on jimmy fallon….

user2: why do we speculate into these celebs lives? if they broke up, who cares and if they’re together… who cares?

hater1: who gives a fuck. she can’t even sing.

-> user3: you clearly gaf if you’re commenting under y/n related posts???

loveislanduk: don’t worry y/n! if need be, you can always find a new man on the island!

-> user98: messy asf 😭

user6: is tkl supposed to be y/n talking about how lando was super adored and that although he could have any girl, she’d be the only one who really loved him?

-> user4: tokyo love hotel is a homage to drummer’s japanese heritage not a lando worship song?? also it’s a metaphor for their heritages as three of them are women of colour who grew up in the west and saw their cultures exoticised.

-> user6: ‘yeah your fascination is my world’. that could be interpreted as her saying ‘your obsession is my boyfriend’.

-> user4: girl yeah but that’d be a lazy one would it not? lando ain’t that special 😭 i think that it’s reductionist to make everything she writes about a man and not her.

user44: calling the album babylon after the bible story? maybe they started with the idea of creating this amazing relationship and then grew apart? they stopped speaking each other’s language?

-> user56: maybe you need to put this energy into analysing your resume and figuring out why you’re still unemployed….

user65: idc if she broke up with that troll because that’d mean drummery/n will thrive!!

-> user9: um… u mean guitaristy/n??

-> user34: both wrong. bassisty/n is the best version!!!

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CHANGE’S INTERVIEW W/ JIMMY FALLON (transcript)

JIMMY FALLON: welcome, everyone! we have a special treat for you tonight. please give it up for the current leaders of the world charts, the incredible band CHANGE!"

(audience applause as the girls take their seats)

FALLON: alright, alright! now, there have been some rumours swirling around about your latest album and its connection to some personal matters. especially in regards to y/n. care to shed some light on that?

Y/N: well, jimmy, first of all, thank you for having us. i’m aware that there have been some rumours, but you know how it is. people love to speculate. our music is definitely personal, and yeah, it does reflect some of what's been going on in my life but i want to set the record straight. the songs on our album are inspired by a variety of our experiences, including relationships, but they're not always directly about any specific individuals. sometimes i’m inspired by other forms of media or my loved ones’ experiences. that’s the joy of making art, it can be whatever you want it to be.

DRUMMER: yeah, and y/n is such a talented songwriter. she has this incredible ability to channel her emotions into our music and make you feel whatever she wants.

BASSIST: exactly. we're just here to make music that connects with people, and if our songs happen to resonate with someone going through a breakup? then we've done our job. that doesn’t mean we’ve necessarily gone through that.

FALLON: is it true that you’re performing two songs for us tonight? can you confirm which ones?

GUITARIST: yes! we’re performing ‘want u back’ and ‘frankenstein’. both of our newest singles from babylon.

FALLON: well, you heard them, folks! get ready for an amazing performance from CHANGE!

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liked by bassist, guitarist and 1,272,973 others.

yourusername: we’re fine y’all perfectly fine please don’t call paw patrol.

view all 68,928 comments

user1: OH THANK GOD.

landonorris: she’s lying. i’m in my lemonade era…🍋

-> user23: you wish you could be that iconic. you’re in your dogwater era.

-> landonorris: UNPROVOKED???

user3: we needed this confirmation.

user8: PARENTS AREN’T DIVORCED WE WON 🙌

landonorris: now can you release the bonus tracks please please please 🙏🏼 ‼️😩

-> bassist: no :)

-> guitarist: yes :)

-> drummer: one of them is lying… guess who and i’ll send the whole album plus excluded tracks.

-> landonorris: … um 😅 guitarist?

-> drummer: WRONG ‼️ but i’m scared you’re gonna complain to y/n so i’ll send them over to you 🙄

user27: at least we’re back to having lando being CHANGE!’s biggest fans. what did he think of ‘exile’?

-> yourusername: he cried so hard he threw up.

-> user27: real shit.

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