#next chapter is when what i call the 'fun stuff' begins

[jacqcrisis]

CHAPTER TWO OF JAYVIK MAGIC REALISM AU IS UP FOR PERUSAL (if you want to)

Last of the two introductory chapters. Now we can get into real relationship building hours.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Chapter 18

Summary: You have fun at Carol's bridal shower.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

A/N: This is short, but maybe next chapter will close out this "arch" of the story :)

Pietro is definitely enjoying his own space. Barnes has long shifts which means he has the apartment all for himself most of the times, and even when his roommate is around, he mostly keeps to himself.

Still, there are some stuff left at his sister’s house and he thinks nothing of it as he lets himself in, approaching what was once his room.

The sound of voices stops him dead in his tracks.

“To the left, yeah, there. That’s it” you say, out of breath.

“You sure? It feels kind of tight”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to, baby. Now harder. Exactly, just like that”

Pietro wants to throw up or erase his memory to forget he even heard you two. But before he can exit the house, you’re opening the door.

“Hey, man. You scared me. We didn’t hear you come in” you say, too casual for his liking.

“Yeah, I could tell”

“What do you mean by that?” Wanda comes out of the room, carrying some tools and a couple of wooden panels.

Well, that’s a relief.

“You fixing something?” he changes the subject, saving himself the trouble of explaining he thought you were busy having sex.

“Yeah, some stuff Wanda built and others she tried to repair. I’m done with the fence, gotta check the deck and then I’ll do the new shelves before I call it a day. I’m tired” you say, coming back with a glass of water for Wanda.

“The shelves are fine” she says and you snort. “Why are you laughing?”

Her sudden anger makes you pale and Pietro slowly walks to his former room to get his stuff and flee out of there. By the time he’s done you’re arguing.

“Babe, come on! Look at this. They’re lose, if you place anything there it will fall. Probably take a piece of the wall with it”

“They are perfectly fine” Wanda insists.

“Oh, so if I were to put this very valuable and fragile Tiffany lamp, it wouldn’t fall off? Is that what you’re saying?” you challenge her, grabbing the lamp and inching closer to the shelf. Wanda crosses her arms, glaring.

“If you break that lamp…”

“Well, it’s not gonna happen, because the shelves are fine. Right?” you say, finally placing it there. A second later the panel tilts and you catch the lamp before it reaches the floor. “Ha! Told you”

“You are such an ass! I’m going to take the kids with Clint and Laura and I hope that by the time I’m back you’re ready to apologize!”

“Right after you!” you say, grabbing the drill.

“I am…” Wanda begins to say, but you make noise with the drill to interrupt her. “I am not…” she huffs as you keep doing it. “I am NOT APOLOGIZING!”

“FINE” you shout over the noise.

Pietro regrets not recording this because it’s hilarious, but then Wanda turns her attention to him.

“Why are you still standing here? Don’t you have stuff to do? When are you getting a job?”

“Wow, slow down, mom” he tries to joke, but his sister tilts her head and he knows he’ll get cooked. “You’re right, I better go find a job. Bye”

Wanda leaves and you relax a little bit. She’s trying to help you repair the things inside the house and while you appreciate it, it’s a little overwhelming. You’re used to working alone, and you have to slow down as you explain some things to her.

Honestly, why would she even want to know how to do it? You’re always around to fix things. The timing of your fight sucks too, considering the twins are having a sleepover and Pietro’s on his own place now.

Looks like the only screaming you’ll have today will be from arguing. And to be fair, you could roll over on your back and apologize but you don’t feel like it. You were both too stubborn.

So, you keep working and by the time you’re done, you hop in the shower and then stay in bed, snoozing.

Wanda comes home to a quiet house and for a moment she thinks you might be out walking to clear your head. But then she goes upstairs and finds you fast asleep, wearing a tank top and briefs.

She regrets being so hot headed and ruining the night, but she also knows you well enough to guess you’ll be pouting unless Wanda takes extraordinary measures to make it up to you.

So, she goes to the bathroom and jumps in the shower. The sound of running water wakes you up and when Wanda’s done, she notices you’re finally up.

“Hey. Wanna order thai food?”

“Fine” you answer, grabbing your phone and paying attention to anything but her.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to be moody, detka” she says, and you frown.

“I’m not the one who started it, Wanda. You were very dismissive, when I was just trying to help out”

“Well, I just felt like you were being condescending”

“Come on, you know I wasn’t. If you want my help at least don’t be mad when I do what you ask…”

The bathroom door opens and you turn as you talk, but your words get stuck as Wanda walks out, wearing a pink babydoll and nothing else.

“When I ask you…? You were saying” she says innocently, walking towards you.

“Yeah. When you ask me to do you. I mean to help you” you shake your head, eyes not leaving her figure.

“Mmm, you’re right” she admits, and you gasp as she climbs to your lap, holding on to your shoulders.

“I am?” you ask like an idiot.

“Yes, baby. You help me out so much, and I was a little bratty. I should be a good girl for you”

“Wanda” you sigh when she kisses the spot behind your ear, her hands going down to your arms.

“Yes?”

“I… forgot what I was going to say”

“Then stop talking” she says against your lips, kissing you a second later. You moan against her mouth, hands flying to cup her ass.

“Nu-uh. Sit back” she says, taking out a small piece of rope to tie you up.

“Babe, come on” you whine.

“I thought you liked to be tied up”

“I do but not now. I wanna touch you”

“Too bad. Hands over your head”

You scoff and whine but she’s not giving in, so with a final sigh, you do as she asks and lift your hands over your head. Wanda climbs over your lap to tie them to the headboard, her breasts right at eye level. She yelps when you sink your head in her cleavage, nibbling at the exposed skin.

“I said no touching”

“Not touching. Biting”

“Cheeky” she reprimands, but her expression softens a second later. “They’re not too tight?”

“I’m good” you shake your head, eager to see what she’ll do next.

Whatever it is, you know Wanda’s ready to tease you when she has that predatory smrik on her face.

She kneels in the bed, lowering her underwear until you can see her exposed cunt, a wet stain on the fabric. Wanda throws them your way, and your mouth waters when you see her sliding one finger inside, moaning.

“Are you tight?” you ask, breathing heavy when she moans, adding a second finger.

“And wet. I wish it was your cock, baby”

“Untie me, come on. I’ll fill you up real nice, Wanda” you push against the rope, but she just laughs, taking her fingers out and licking them clean, her tongue swirling slowly.

“What do you want to do to me?” she asks, straddling your leg so her center rubs off against it.

“So much. Spank you, mark you, fuck you until you can’t walk”

“Sounds good. But for now, this will have to do” she smiles, rubbing herself against your leg. You moan at the feeling of her arousal smearing against you, and struggle to break free so you can touch her. “You’re making me feel so good”

“Imagine if you’d untie me. I could…”

“Oh, shush” she rolls her eyes, picking up her underwear and stuffing it in your mouth. “You’re distracting me”

“Mmffp” you mumble against the fabric.

“Come on, be a good girl and let me use you, honey. Then you’ll get what you want” she promises, increasing the speed of her movements until she’s breathing heavily, her tits bouncing up and down with the strenght of her thrusts.

You can’t even get some friction between your legs, Wanda holding on to your hips to keep you in place. So, all you can do is admire the way Wanda mewls and moans as her orgasm approaches. After a second, she digs her nails in the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. The movement sends her over the edge, and Wanda comes with a strangled cry.

“So good for me” she says, leaning against your chest.

You push the underwear out of your mouth, eager to make her come again.

“Can I touch now?”

“In a minute” Wanda says after looking you up and down. “I think I want to ride your face first”

The night just got ten times better.

—

Maybe it’s because you got used to running around in Boston, but now that you’re back in Westview, the workload always seems managable. Even now with five people and a surgery, you’re dealing just fine with the stress.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Darcy says as you examine a kid, waiting for Kamala to come back with his X-rays.

“Did you try here? In the ER? Where I’m always working. Sorry, buddy” you add when the kid complains.

“You know I don’t come to enemy territory. Barnes…”

“First of all, he is not here today. Second, this feud is one-sided. I promise you he doesn’t have any issues with you” you say, greeting Kamala when she hands over the X-rays. “Fracture. We’re gonna have to put a cast on your ankle. Sorry, kiddo”

“That’s fine, I’ll get lots of ice cream and play videogames”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit. Kamala, can you get everything ready? We’re just waiting for his father to come back with the insurance info”

“Right away”

“Anyways, I was looking for you because I wanted to check if you made the reservation at the stri…”

You clear your throat, nodding towards the kid.

“At the movies” Darcy corrects herself in time. “And if you’re gonna have an issue with the missus”

“Why would I?” you cross your arms. Wanda knows about the plan.

“Well, she’s known to be the jealous type. And we’re all going to a place full of… candy” Darcy smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Kamala joins you, getting everything ready for the cast as the kid’s father has some questions.

“It’s going to be fine” you say, walking out of the ER, Darcy right behind you. “I think a lot has changed since we took a break. Plus I’m making it up to her with fancy dinner”

“Oh, are you finally proposing?” Darcy jokes but you hit your knee against a stretcher, groaning in pain. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you miss the part where I almost fell on my face?”

“No, I mean why did you get all freaked out when I mentioned the engagement. You have a ring, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but last time…” you sigh, looking away. You stop walking, leaning against the wall, and Darcy eyes you up and down. “I thought I had it all figured out, you know? Thought we were doing good and then everything blew up in my face. I don’t think I’m ready for that. And there’s the whole Sokovia thing… maybe I should tell her that part over dinner first”

“You haven’t told her? She’s gonna kick your ass if you don’t do it fast. It’s three months away”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, shush. She’s waiting by the front desk” you nod towards Wanda, who stopped by on her way back from school.

“Hey, detka. Hey, Darcy” Wanda greets, kissing your cheek. You pull her by the waist until she’s completely attached to your side. Wanda loves how needy and touch starved you are.

“We were just talking about Carol and Maria’s bachelorette party and how you don’t need to tell me to behave”

“Of course I don’t”

“Because you trust me”

“Because I’m coming with you” she says at the same time you speak.

“You… what?” you turn to look at her, confused, ignoring Darcy’s laughter.

“Carol invited me. We had fun that time at the club, didn’t we? I thought it might be good to leave the house, seeing as all we do lately is have sex…”

“That’s my cute to go” Darcy groans, walking away.

Wanda turns to look at her, laughing.

“If you don’t want me to go…”

“Wanda, I’d love for you to join us. It’s gonna be fun… but just to be clear, it’s not because you don’t trust me, right?”

“No, dear. I trust you” Wanda looks over your shoulder, as some of the nurses stare at you, clearly admiring your muscles. “I just don’t trust other women to keep it in their pants”

Before you know it, she’s pulling you in for a rough kiss. You gasp in surprise, but craddle her face in your hands a second later, smiling when she laughs against your lips.

“What are you doing? I need to get groceries” she says when you pull her to an empty on call room.

“Come on, it will only take five minutes”

“Five?” she says, unimpressed.

“Fine. How about fifteen?”

“That’s more like it”

—

There’s a certain excitement at getting ready for a party with your friends. You’re all so consumed by work that hanging out is a rarity.

Beyond that, Wanda joining you is ten times better, so by the time you’re ready and waiting for her at the living room, you’re buzzing with anticipation.

She finally goes downstairs, and you’re too busy admiring how good she looks in black pants, and a velvet corset top that pushes her breasts up.

“Stunning doesn’t begin to cover it” you say, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Thanks, detka. Come on, we should get going”

The plan is to get something to eat first and then go to the club. Easy, no complications.

“Drop her off at a decent hour” Ekaterina asks you as if you don’t live in the same house as Wanda.

“Yes, Miss Max… Mom” you say, rubbing the back of your neck.

Pietro is out with the twins and Ekaterina will stay with them until you come back, which of course won’t be too late as everyone has to work in the next 24 hours.

“You ok?” Wanda says as you drive to the bar, sitting quietly. You’re still thinking about what Darcy said, and you know you’re also avoiding the conversation with Wanda, fearing it will lead to an argument.

“Yeah. Just hoping everything goes well. By the way, would you maybe want to have dinner tomorrow? We could try that new place you found the other day”

“Of course, detka. Is that why you were so scared? You just wanted to ask me out?” she jokes, reaching to place her hand on the back of your head as you drive.

“Real funny” you comment, smiling at her.

By the time you walk in the pub, Darcy is all over your face.

“You’re late”

“It’s 8:06, pesky minion” you say, looking around the room. Carol and Maria are playing pool, while Kate and Kamala take some pictures.

“Yeah, we said 8 o’clock. We have a tight schedule, but don’t worry. I knew you’d both be late, probably being horny and…”

“Ok! Your point?” you interrupt her, Wanda laughing next to you.

“I took that into consideration, but here. Have a look” Darcy says, handing over her phone.

“Why is there a 15 minute break called bar fight?” you say.

“In case Wanda wants to smack the living lights out of anyone trying to make a move on you. I know you, Maximoff”

“I do appreciate the consideration” Wanda nods and you look at her, hoping it’s just a joke. You have to bring her back home in one piece or Ekaterina will probably kill you.

Once you promise Darcy you’ll stick to her annoying itinerary, you find a table and order some food. Wanda walks up to talk to Kate and Kamala, and Darcy sits next to you at the booth, nudging your side.

“What now?“

“Did you tell her already?”

“No, I didn’t want to ruin the mood. I’ll take her out to dinner tomorrow”

“Ok, when I get super drunk make sure I’m not around Wanda or I’ll tell her everything”

“Who can forget you’re infamous word vomit?” you sigh, remembering that time Darcy was so wasted she asked two girls you were seeing at the same time if they had siblings since “you don’t have a problem sharing”.

“Better that than actual vomit”

Everyone’s having a great time, joking and talking about life. Sometimes the conversation drifts back to work but you make sure Wanda has context on everything so she doesn’t get lost.

“So, Ass Man…”

“Doctor Charles” you turn to Wanda when Darcy’s telling a story.

“And Booty Call”

“His mistress” you say, sighing. Darcy and her complicated nicknames.

“Wait, hold on. Do I have a nickname?” Wanda asks, smiling. Everyone looks away and then she turns to you.

“Not that I’m aware of” you admit, though no one would tell you either way.

“You’re all cowards” Darcy says when the group refuses to answer. “Everyone calls you Maximilf”

You choke on your beer, Wanda laughing as you try to breathe.

“Do you think it’s fitting?” she says when everyone else focuses back on Darcy’s story.

“I mean, I definitely want to fuck you”

“Alright, you have three five minute breaks to flirt or combine them to do something nasty” Darcy says when she catches what’s happening. “And right now, it’s time to go to the club”

The brunette leads the group outside, where a minivan is parked.

“Designated driver” she hands the keys over and you accept them with a roll of your eyes.

“I could be the designated driver, Doctor Y/L/N. I hardly drink” Kamala offers and you smile.

“How about when we’re out of the club, kid?”

Everyone gets in, Wanda in the passenger seat with you. Kate is in charge of the music, and you have to hand it to her, it’s a really good playlist.

“Don’t go breaking my heart” you sing to Wanda.

“I couldn’t if I tried” Wanda answers, singing Kiki Dee’s part.

“Out! Out of this madhouse, please!” Darcy shrieks from the last seat.

Luckily for her, you’re at the strip club in less than ten minutes.

Carol and Maria are wearing their matching “Bride to Be” t-shirts, Kamala and Kate close behind.

“Right on schedule?” you ask Darcy, and she nods, extending her hand. You think she wants a high five and you do that but she glares.

“No, you idiot. Give me the keys. I don’t trust you to keep them safe”

“Fine. Let’s go, babe” you put your arm around Wanda, going inside.

The music is loud, but right now there’s only people talking and drinking. A hostess leads you to a booth that’s right in front of the stage and you sit, looking around.

“This is really nice” Maria comments.

“Everyone say thank you, Darcy, for finding this awesome place and making the booth reservation” you say, raising your shot glass as the waitress places the tray on the table.

“Thank you, Darcy!” everyone says, downing their shots. Kamala is the only one that doesn’t drink, but Darcy is quick to take the shot she left.

You have a couple of rounds of shots, talking and laughing. Kamala asked for a mocktail, but she’s laughing so loud that you have to approach her.

“Hey, K. What did you get?”

“Long Island iced tea, Ma’am” she mock salutes you. “They’re so good! Here’s another one”

The waitress is already handing over a new one and Kamala drinks half of the glass before you can stop her.

“Kamala, that has like three different types of alcohol”

“Nooooo way, really?” she practically shouts, looking around. She waves at one of the show girls, and points to her ears. “Oh my god, your earrings are so cute”

You sigh, walking to the bar to get her a soda and some water, since it’s very clear she can’t hold her alcohol.

“Hi, there” a woman greets you. She’s wearing a robe over her gold lingerie set that leaves very little to the imagination.

“Oh, hello. How do you do?” you say, smiling as you get the water and the soda, leaving a tip for the bartender.

“You here with someone?”

“Yeah, the bridal shower over there” you nod your head towards your group.

“Congratulations”

“Not mine, no. My friends” you clarify, and as you turn to look back at your group you see Kamala drinking another cocktail. “Excuse me, I have to make sure the one that looks like a kid doesn’t get wasted”

“Well, I’m next… hope you like my act” she bites her lip and you nod dumbly, blushing. You’re so worried about Kamala that you don’t notice the way Wanda follows the interaction.

“Come on, kiddo, drink this” you say, asking Kate to keep an eye out for her. When you return to your seat, Wanda climbs on your lap. Maria whistles and you blush, smiling weakly.

“Hey, baby. Did you have a couple of drinks too?” you smile, hands resting on her hips.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh?”

“That girl at the bar. She seemed really interested in you” Wanda says with a knowing smile, making you gulp.

“I didn’t catch her name. Didn’t ask, I mean”

Just as she’s about to argue, the lights dim, and there’s a focus on the stage as the woman walks to the pole, dropping her black robe.

“Please welcome Sadie!”

There’s a chorus of applause and whistles as the woman dances around, but Wanda stays on your lap, giving you enough room to look back to the stage if you want to.

So she’s testing you.

“Cat got your tongue?” she whispers against your lips. You shake your head no, hands going to her lower back and you really want to touch her ass but all your friends are here and you’ll never hear the end of it.

A couple of screams make you turn briefly to the stage, and you notice the woman -Sadie- has taken her top off, throwing it close to where you are.

“Are her tits pretty?”

“I didn’t…”

“Didn’t look?” she asks and you nod, sighing when she sneaks her hand under your shirt, raking her nails across your abdomen. “Goog girl”

“Wanda” you stop her hand when it travels to undo the button of your pants. “Not here”

“Why not? Is Sadie gonna get jealous?”

“Come on, bunny, you are not playing fair” you try to hold back a moan when she dips her hand in your pants, and you feel how close she is to your center. Wanda bites down your neck, soothing the sting with her tongue a second later.

“I guess you’re right” she whispers and you almost don’t catch her words, until she goes back to sitting next to you, the lights going back on as the woman leaves the stage.

“Hey, perv, button up your pants” Darcy screams and everyone turns to look at you.

“Wanda!” you complain while your girlfriend laughs.

There’s not a lot of teasing as the next act comes on stage. It’s a fabulous drag queen that calls herself Fanny Longbottom. She's holding a mic, approaching your group.

“I hear we have a couple of brides to be this evening. What are your names, darling?”

“I’m Carol and this is Maria”

“Love that. How long have you been together for?”

“Six years now”

Fanny gasps dramatically, looking at the rest of the audience.

“That’s like 20 in lesbian years! Congrats on finally tying the knot, you two. Any more couples on your little entourage”

You’re shaking your head no, hating when the attention is drawn to you, but Carol is quick to point your way.

“My, oh my” the woman saunters your way, noticing how flushed your face is. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No, we were just…”

“Honey, we don’t need the deets” she says and everyone laughs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N and this is my girlfriend Wanda” you say, hoping this can be over soon.

“How long have you been together?”

“Well, I mean, ten months and then we broke up for a bit but now we’re back together” you ramble.

“She’s lovely. And great with my kids” Wanda steps in, sensing how nervous you are.

“Kids! Ten months and they already have kids” the woman screams. “You should take a page out of these two. Look at them practically married after a few months. But, let’s see who has the best moves, what do you say?”

“Wait, what?” you shout. Two chairs are placed on the stage, and you shake your head hoping this isn’t what you think it is.

Wanda drags you to the stage, smiling.

“How bad can it be?”

You wish she hadn’t asked that question, because it turns out this is a lap dance-off and you’re forced to sit as everyone cheers.

“Relax, darling, pretend it’s just the two of us” Wanda says and you’re midly turned on and very curious about why she’s not shy or self conscious.

The music begins and you see Wanda sink to her knees between your parted legs. As she stands up, her hands slide up your thighs and then she’s sitting on your lap, her breasts right in your face.

“Don’t be shy” Wanda says against your lips, taking you by the wrists and placing your hands on her ass. There’s more whistles and you’re vaguely aware that Wanda’s grinding her ass against your front, her hands over her head as she dances to the music.

“Alright” Fanny says, applauding as the music fades. “They put on quite a show”

You practically take a shot from the waitress that’s walking by, trying to calm your racing heart while everyone claps for Maria and Wanda.

“That was so awesome” Kate says, but you’re only aware of Wanda close behind you.

Stopping suddenly, you turn to look at her and she’s pleased at noticing your blown pupils and heaving chest.

“Bathroom or car. Choose”

“Car. I’ll just go to the bathroom first”

“Fine” you nod, turning to Darcy. “Give me the car keys”

“No, it’s a rental and you’re gonna destroy one of the seats or some weird shit”

“Lewis, keys. Now!”

“Keep it in your pants, god damn it!” she curses, running around the bar.

“Why are you so fast when your legs are so short?” you complain. You’re about to catch her when your attention shifts to Wanda, who is trying to walk past a man.

“How much do you charge for a dance?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, it didn’t look like it was your first”

“Darcy, change of plans! Bar fight” you walk towards your girlfriend.

Wanda relaxes when she sees you approaching, thinking you’ll tell the man to fuck off and get her out of there.

Instead, you grab him by the shoulders and when he turns around, your fist flies to his nose.

Darcy pulls out a whistle from heaven knows where.

“Bridal shower girlies, out the door, now, now! You too, Wanda”

Everyone’s sneaking out before the fight can escalate, but the man catches you off guard, hitting your face and splitting your lip.

“You never hit a woman, you coward!” Fanny says, throwing a chair his way. “Get him out of here”

Taking advantage of the commotion, you escape, practically jumping on the minivan. Darcy starts the engine even before you close the door, everyone shrieking and panicking as she swirves on the road, clearly too drunk to drive.

“We’re going to die!” Kamala cries in the backseat. “I don’t wanna die!”

“Lewis, pull over! I’m driving!” you say, hitting your head against the window when she takes a sharp turn.

“How do you stop this thing?” Darcy says, forgetting how to use the brakes.

It takes a couple of tries, but then she’s parking by the sidewalk, knocking a trash can.

You sigh, going out to take her place while she crawls over the passenger seat. Kamala asks you to wait a second and the minute she’s out, you hear her throw up.

“Well, at least it didn’t happen inside the car” Darcy smiles, giving you a thumbs up.

—

The cool air clears your head.

“Sorry” Wanda says, holding your chin as she cleans your bloody lip. “That was very hot, though”

“Mhm. Right back at you with that little dance. Should I set up a pole in your studio?”

“Stop” she laughs, inspecting her work. “Ok, you’re good”

You turn to look at the rest of the group. The girls are showing Carol the videos they took while Maria and Darcy get some ice cream.

You figured the pier was the safest spot to unwind and sober up before heading back home.

“Here ya go” Darcy hands you an ice cream cone.

“Thanks, pal. It was a great party”

“Better than senior year spring break?”

“Ha! Not that good, Lewis”

“What happened in that party?” Wanda asks.

“Nothing” Darcy and you say at the same time.

“God damn it, is Kamala going in the water?” Darcy says, standing up to go check on them.

You both laugh, shaking your heads at the way the night ended.

“For our wedding maybe we should skip this whole bachelorette party thing” you say without thinking.

“If… that’s what you want” Wanda says, speechless at how casual you’re being.

To be fair, you just took painkillers even if you had a couple of drinks. That and the little fight have left you a bit distracted. You honestly don’t even notice you’re talking about a potential wedding.

Then, Kamala and Kate are both in the water, swearing they saw a mermaid and a coast guard is approaching, telling them it is forbidden to swim.

“Ah, jeez. Everyone, get in the car, now!”

For the second time that evening, you have to flee to avoid the consequences of your stupid actions, but everyone’s laughing as you start the minivan.

It’s not so bad after all.

—

The evening’s going great. Your lip isn’t hurting that much, Wanda seems to be enjoying her food and she also looks absolutely stunning.

Yet, you can’t help but feel nervous about what you have to tell her.

Wanda mistakes your anxiety with nerves, and for a bigger part of the night she expects you to get down in one knee and ask her to marry you.

But she knows that’s such a generic way to do it and you would absolutely do something different and unique.

“Are you feeling ok? Still a little hungover from yesterday?” she asks when you’re walking down the pier, her hand holding on to your arm as you look out the bay.

“No, it’s not that” you reassure her, stopping and turning to look at her. “I have to tell you something”

Wanda’s heart beats faster. Your demeanor isn’t making her feel very confident right now, as you avoid her eyes.

“Hey, look at me” Wanda reaches forward,squeezing your hand. “It’s ok”

“Right. Remember Val? From Boston”

“I’m not… maybe. Why? What’s the matter?”

Wanda’s mind is racing with a million possibilities. Were you and Val involved? Did you feel guilty for keeping it from Wanda?

“Well, she works for Doctors without borders. And though that requires leaving for a very long period of time, she was able to connect me with an NGO that is looking for doctors that want to work in several countries. One of them being Sokovia”

“Ok? So are you going?” Wanda tries to understand what you’re saying.

“I want to… I want us to go together” you reach for her waist, pulling her closer and leaning your forehead against hers. “They liked my experience so I can go only for the summer. I’d help one of their hospitals to develop an ER protocol, make things better”

“And the kids?”

“Like I said, I choose when to go. It could be during summer break. We’ll go together. I really want to know where you came from, your home… but I get it if you don’t want to go back”

“I just… I never thought you’d want to go” she says, trying to wrap her head around what you just said.

“Of course I do. Plus you told me about that book you want to write, it could be a good time to do research. Right?”

“Right” Wanda smiles, relieved that this is what you wanted to talk about. She can’t help but laugh when she realises you also didn’t propose.

“You ok? Was this too much?”

“No, it’s not that. I was just… worried it might be something bad. But it’s not, detka. You just took me by surprise and I want to think about this. It’s not easy going back after everything that happened”

“Of course, I know. I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she leans to kiss you softly. “Now, let’s go home before mom gets mad at us”

“Yeah, we had enough with yesterday’s scolding. She’s so scary” you shudder, making Wanda laugh.

Ekaterina didn’t have a lot of nice things to say when you sneaked back into the house after the bachelorette party, giggling like a couple of teenagers.

She was also very much not impressed by your split lip and bruised knuckles.

When you go back home, the kids are already asleep but Ekaterina is still in the dining room table, playing a game on her phone.

“No trouble this time?” she says, looking at you sternly.

“No, Ma’am. We had dinner and a nice walk, didn’t we, love?” you say, turning to Wanda for backup. She nods, and you kiss her temple. “I’m going upstairs, gotta get ready for work tomorrow”

“Good night” Ekaterina says, Wanda promising to be right there.

“Want me to walk you out?” she asks her mother, and Ekaterina stays silent for a moment longer, looking at her daughter.

“You seem disappointed” she says instead of answering the question.

“Mama. I’m tired” Wanda sighs, walking to the kitchen to make some tea.

“Let me. And tell me what’s wrong” her mother takes over as she usually does.

Wanda sits at the kitchen counter, trying to gather her thoughts.

“A small part of me thought she was proposing tonight. And then we got to talking and it’s a whole different thing”

“Children?” Ekaterina asks and Wanda shakes her head no. “Then?”

“She wants to go to Sokovia for the summer. There’s a hospital looking for help and... well, she seems really excited fot all of us to go, like it’s a vacation”

“That’s nice of her. Wanting to help, I mean. Truthfully, I’ve been to the hospital in the city and it could use some work”

“Why have you been there? Are you sick?” Wanda snaps, suddenly scared that her mother is keeping something from her.

“No, malyshka. Relax. Now tell me. You don’t want to go?”

“I’m scared that the happy memories I have are just my mind romanticizing the past. Like I just remember things being good because it’s been so long and it’s easier to forget the bad stuff”

“I see. Well, I was there. I saw you grow up, laugh in the snow, learn how to ride a bike down the hills of our street… I promise you, all the happiness you felt will be there. It’s your home, Wanda. Sometimes embracing the past can heal us”

“So, you think I should go?” Wanda says, sipping from her cup of tea.

“I think you shouldn’t let fear decide what you want. Now, as for the other thing. The proposal” she clarifies when Wanda tilts her head, confused. “Does she have to be the one that proposes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you do it? Seeing as you can’t wait to be engaged”

“No, I… if she hasn’t asked it means she’s not ready. I don’t want to pressure her”

“Or, she could be scared because last time she was ready and then you two broke up. Think about it”

Wanda stays silent for a moment. It was her who ended things between you, the one who refused to talk it out. Of course you’d want to be sure, or at the very least take some time before the next step.

It was always you who took a leap of faith. Maybe it was time Wanda did the same.

“I don’t even have a ring”

Ekaterina smiles, holding her daughter’s hands between her own.

“You know… your father and I always said that whoever found the right person first would get my engagament ring. And it seems like you beat your brother to it”

“You love that ring”

“I love that your father gave it to me. And that it’s part of our story. It will be part of yours now too”

Ekaterina takes Wanda’s palm and places the ring there.

“Love like that is hard to find”

"Thank you, Mama" Wanda says against her temple, hugging her mother.

"Don't take too long. I want more grandchildren"

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 9

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Angst, Predator/Prey

Chapter Summary: Do dragons dream of wandering deer?

Author's Note: There is a reason why I wrote him falling asleep at the end of Chapter 8 hehe

I realized I work well during night. Very very fun sewing (and working) because no one bothers me so sometimes I stop and write when inspiration hits. Also, they are selling White Rabbit Milk Tea Sea Salt here and its very very good drink.

Enjoy reading! As always, thank you everyone for the support and because of this fanfic, I found a friend I can yap about lots of stuff!

Tagging: @phisen @wrimaira

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

9: My Dearest, Awaiting

“What do you think?”

A brief giggle escaped your lips while you watched your reflection in front of the mirror, raising a branch with snow crocus blooms tied around it on the top of your head.

Daisy gazed at your reflections, the small chirp coming from it echoed across the small bathroom. In its feet are used bandages and medical supplies you used to clean up the wound left by your remaining antler shedding.

It shook its head, shifting through the branches with flowers tied on them laid in front of you then dragged a branch of red camellias to you, the same choice it always proposes to you every day.

“I am starting to think these are your favorite.”

It tilted its head, watching you inspect the petals and it let out a beep, pleased, when you tied the red good luck ribbon around it and then taped the branch on your head.

It is as if you never shedded your sole antler at all.

“What do you think?”

Your crow friend did a spin, letting out a caw then resting on your shoulders. It tried to perch on your ‘temporary antler’ as you called it once but it can never hold its weight so it settled on the next best spot.

“Let’s go check on him before we start the day,” you said, closing the bathroom door behind you and walking through the winding halls of your dragon’s many homes. Your steps are easy now, and sometimes you skip towards one of the many interesting things on display but careful enough to avoid spilling the tub of water with you.

A rare vinyl record.

(You ask if you can listen to it and the twins said it would be better if it is the boss who will put it on for you when he finally wakes up.)

An empty flower pot with an intricate design.

(Your crow friend scolded the twins before when they pretended to bump on it while they were showing you around.)

A snow globe.

(The little dragon doesn’t seem to mind the snow falling on its scales, asleep on top of the blanket of white powder.)

They said that your dragon is dormant.

It is a very kind term to use for someone who has been asleep ever since the beginning of early winter, for over half a month, and even the best doctors that the twins and everyone in Onychinus managed to find only shook their heads, his kind already a rarity making them difficult to study but their theories are almost the same after hearing what happened-

-His body was so exhausted that it decided to put him in a deep slumber.

Were you terrified? At first, before the doctors came in, especially when he had not woken up even when a day had already passed by.

Are you still terrified? It bothers you when you don’t see him that your father had you take a vacation, taking over the full operations of the shop after hiring temporary help.

Even then, you still find yourself sewing, to pass time while waiting.

“Good morning, Mister Dragon,” you greeted softly, opening the door to where your dragon is fast asleep, then announcing your name, “Your tailor in a holiday break is here.”

It took you five strides to reach his bedside and Daisy perched on top of the headboard, watching you set down the basin at the side table before pulling your chair quietly.

It is routine at this point, waking up, getting ready, checking if he is still fast asleep, and then doing chores before returning to his side when the sun sets.

“You must be having a wonderful dream,” you spoke softly, dabbing the warm cloth on his head, cleaning him up. Every now and then, he would stir and you noticed stray droplets bother him so you make sure to squeeze excess water from the cloth harder first, “I hope you remember them when you wake up so you can tell me.”

Of course, you never expect an answer from him but you were told speaking to him would help and from there, you and the twins explore creative ways to interact with him, hoping your words will reach your dragon soaring through the wide skies of his colorful dreams.

How many vinyl records have you put on?

You are almost through the first box but more are waiting to be played at the foot of his bed.

How many tapes of films have you watched?

Too many, sometimes you fall asleep halfway through and sometimes you don’t, pointing at the clothes of the characters you love to him.

How many times have you winded up your music box?

More than ten, every morning and evening and you wonder if he is also in the same field of red wildflowers, gazing at the blue horizon after a tiring flight.

“Are you having a long journey there?”, you continued, and you smiled when water clung on his hair and on his eyelashes, “I am sure you have many friends there. Dragons just like you.”

He never gave away his dreams, only soft breathing escaping his lips, sometimes a smile and then his slumber continues.

You always made sure to change the bandages wrapped around his shattered horn after, setting the used ones beside the small flower pot in the bedside table where you planted the antler you have shed but you haven’t quite decided yet which flower to grow beside it.

If you had enough time, you believe you would have been able to salvage those pots with your and your father’s antlers before the fire of your old shop.

Those plants would be taller by now and they would have been very lovely to look at once work day ends, towers of greens and colorful blooms thriving together with your old antlers.

Once your dragon wakes up, you will give him the choice which seed you should plant for this one.

A tradition among deer hybrids commonly reserved for close family and-

Just the thought of calling him your mate is making you blush.

“You should wake up before spring, at least,” you hummed, a lopsided smile on your face from your earlier silly thought while making sure the new bandages are secured and then fixing the good luck ribbon tied around his remaining horn, “Every creature wakes up when winter ends.”

The morning routine ends with you pressing a kiss on his forehead after brushing his hair and you make sure he is covered by his blankets and the curtains are closed before  leaving with Daisy to continue your work.

The twins and a few people from Onychinus are too kind when they give you a room where you can continue projects you have brought with you, ones where your clients are very specific that you should be the one making and not the temporary help your father hired.

You always start working on the request of the man you had always held close to your heart, his form always hidden from the shadows.

Mr. Sylus.

He has been very clear from the start that he wanted you to be the one tailoring his clothes when he requests a set from your shop and of course, you still abide by it.

Saying his name with an honorific sounds strange.

It was supposed to be a shot in the dark, a guess where your favorite visitor will just laugh off and pinch your cheek after.

“You should consider being a comedian, sweetie.”

Those are the words you were expecting to hear from him but even then, the red good luck ribbon that tied the wreath said otherwise, as if it was intentionally left there.

A clue.

A hint.

An answer already spelled out.

The man you clothed to shape the image he wants with your own hands.

(He is always the man of the hour in every party, your clients recount.)

The man who answered your notes with gifts, all wrapped in perfect bows.

(He doesn’t spare a single penny, does he?, a voice in your head whispers while you pull the ribbon to reveal the latest surprise.)

The man who sat beside you until the late afternoons, holding the spool while you gathered the yarn that Daisy accidentally toppled over.

(His lips seemed to always quirk slightly in amusement every time you called him ‘Skye’.)

The game is nearing its end and you can still recall your reflection on the mirror of your small vanity table the morning after your little adventure in the museum when you hang the crown of flowers together with all your trinkets.

Curiosity.

Surprise.

Finally, realization.

The last piece of the puzzle to complete the picture.

The events after confirmed everything. How every hybrid in Onychinus tended to him, tended to you .

A bodyguard wouldn’t get that much special treatment.

Sylus.

Two syllables. Easy to say, easy to remember. A sharp inhale for the first and a continuous release for the last, a decrescendo, a dropping beat. Sy-lus: A soft sigh ending with a hiss, reminiscent of a kiss, and of a postponed promise. Foreign to your tongue, yet rolls quickly for the rest. A name for a face, a name to be unique, a face to recollect.

To others, he had always been Sylus. 

Over his business meetings and the coat on his shoulders barely moved by the cold breeze, on the dotted line, an elusive creature that will show its face when called by its name and even then his appearance is a gamble, he will always be Sylus, distant, watchful, untouchable.

To you, he had always been Skye. 

Over his visits and his sleeves rolled up, his coat left hanging on the armchair, he is simply Skye, under the warm sodium lights of each sentries by the road that herald his come and go that reached your little paradise through the windows, your antlers grazing against his horns, he has always been Mister Dragon and you will always be his Miss Deer.

His real name ricochets through every four walls of every building you have stepped inside and even in this room where it is just you and your crow friend putting together clothes, his true name stayed, your mind repeating it, trying to overwrite the one syllable into two and every attempt, never a success, only one question stood.

Why?

“Oh, I didn’t realize-”, you blinked, the urgent beep coupled with the flapping of wings from your crow friend cut your thoughts short and you noticed that the bobbin had already been refilled.

Your gaze moved at the fabrics, already cut, waiting to be joined together and become a suit for the incoming Spring Festival that your dragon will attend but maybe, today is not the day their wish will be granted.

It's not good to use Mister Sewing Machine if your mind is wandering.

“How about we just do our wolf plushies today, Daisy?”, you suggested and you picked up the basket where your project is waiting and that’s how your day went, your crow friend plucking the polyester filling for you while you rolled it in your hands, the two wolf puppies finally taking shape.

“Do you think he will wake up soon?”, you asked the twins when you set the two wolf plushies near your sleeping dragon.

It was already evening when they have arrived back to check on you and the boss and even with your gentle smile, they always caught the scent of sadness-

-Of longing.

Slightly wilted wildflowers, waiting for the sun, for the rain, and of cotton gathering dust.

“He probably gobbled up so many bad humans that he needs to sleep to digest them,” Luke joked and that earned him a slap in the arm by his brother and a sharp peck from Daisy.

“I think we just need to give him more time,” Kieran answered, and if you ask him, the boss does stay up for days, perhaps this is also his body’s way of forcing him to rest, “He will be fine, miss.”

A warm embrace, and the two of them sit near your legs while you knit scarves for all of them until one by one, you all have closed your eyes, drifting off until only the embers of the fireplace and the sound of the vinyl player remain in the dragon’s chamber containing all of his dreams he is keeping for himself.

On Sylus’ bedside, his odd family awaits.

────────────────────

He was a very lonely dragon.

A sudden crash through the forest, ungraceful, and maybe that is because of the arrows and spears that managed to lodge themselves between his scales that he is very wary of every forest creature that tries to approach him, snapping at them, all of them cowering back in fear.

As they should, everyone does with his sharp teeth.

“Mister Dragon, that’s not a nice way to make friends,” a voice came in, gentle and polite, and his eyes immediately landed at you.

The only thought that came in his mind back then were three words.

“You are beautiful.”

A soft laughter escaped your lips, a sound he wanted to hear more, and he realized he might have blurted it out loud when he noticed the used to be frightened forest creatures giggling, whispering among themselves that this mean dragon isn’t so mean at all, making his large tail swished in annoyance, and maybe slight embarrassment.

It was an unlikely friendship.

You who almost look like a human but not really, not with antlers growing on your head, your soft deer ears and short tail, and he relished how you leaned against his body during your afternoon naps, after sewing little clothes for those forest creatures.

A cat wearing a bow tie.

A fox with a cape around its neck.

A goose with a bandana on.

These forest friends of yours frolicking about in human clothing.

“How can we make you friendly, Mister Dragon?”

It was a question you asked him once during those lazy afternoons and his snout pressed against the side of your neck, sighing softly as he took in the scent of cotton and wildflowers, before he answered.

“Are you saying I look hideous, little doe?”

Sylus does enjoy teasing you and you always misinterpret his words as you are quick to apologize, kissing his snout and he knows it is a very underhanded but effective tactic because you always grant him these little gestures.

“I think you are very good-looking.”

If you leaned closer, his body grew extra warmer on your words and he only chuckled at your compliment then you continued.

“Yet, I think a crown would be fitting for a magnificent dragon who worked hard in protecting our forest.”

“Precious metals would only weigh heavy in my head, sweetheart. It will make the knights who always mistake you for a missing princess more determined to cut my head off.”

“Oh, I have a different idea in mind.”

A flower crown worthy of his name, as you said.

Every forest creature brought the best flower across the land to your forest after you announced your plan, all of them unique, and you braid the wreath with him, day and night.

It is almost done with one flower remaining to be picked and only him can bring it back to you.

“Take care, Mister Dragon.”

“I’ll be back before the first flower blooms, little doe.”

His wings shook the trees, the flowers that spread across the grove as he pierced the skies with the air gradually getting thinner, the region becoming colder and colder but he is one to always push through all odds.

Relentless.

Determined.

Unwavering.

The flight was only half of his journey and Sylus had finally landed on the highest peaks of the harsh mountain ranges of this land. With his claws, he had scaled through the rough terrain and his sense of smell is useless for this particular flower native only to this land but his vision is certainly helpful, his eyes darting back and forth looking for the bloom his precious deer described to him before he left.

“Woolly, like a sheep,” you said, and you held up a sheep wandering close to you for him to see and the lamb let out an indignant huff before you let her go then you pointed at the twinkling night sky and the moon, “And silver, like the stars.”

The star of the glacier.

The lion’s foot.

The mountain flower, Edelweiss.

It was fragile, small, and when he was about to slowly uproot it with his large claws, he was met with blinding light and a surprise.

In place of his claws are hands.

Human hands.

The same hands he used to quickly check his face and then his body.

He is not very impressed with this prank but at least his horns and tail stayed, even when they seemed to also shrink to accommodate this new form and oddly enough one thought came to his head even if he should be certainly alarmed at the fact the journey back to your forest will be more perilous and longer.

You and him are almost the same.

With these arms, he can pull you closer.

With these legs, he can tangle them with yours every time both of you call it a day under the night sky in your endless field of red wildflowers.

With these hands, he can hold your face and brush his nose against yours.

A window of opportunity.

He can do so much with this body and with the flower he put inside a makeshift pot he had crafted from the rocks nearby he only then made his descent, his thoughts filled with you and him, dancing together, rolling on the grass together, and-

-He had to stop himself from his train of thought after a particular image came to mind, not when it drifted to the shape of your lips when you laugh, not when he remember the many times humans who passed by your forest often pressing theirs together under the cover of the tall trees when they thought they are alone.

Greed.

Sylus is all too familiar with what greed is and he knows he is one when his desire was also to do the same to you especially when he found out you do those gestures to people close to you.

Surely, you wouldn’t mind if he asks nicely, right?

He is already reciting his question, revising it many times while he follows the path down the cold mountain and the travel that should take him a week or maybe longer was cut in half, not when he is too eager to see you soon.

“Sweetie, we should do what the humans do.” 

(No, that doesn’t sound polite.)

“I am home and I brought it back, sweetheart. Can I have a reward?”

(Not that one either. He doesn’t want it to look like he does these little favors just so he can get a treat after.)

“Your kisses always land on the wrong spots, little doe.”

(That will just make you confused. Not like you can directly kiss him before when he was a dragon.)

His thoughts were cut short when he heard a sound nearby. It was faint, and he can say that he is fortunate he was able to keep his sharp senses because he can clearly recognize the sound a few distant away from the foot of the mountain he is currently standing.

He should have turned away but he chose not to, not when he heard barks, laughter and-

-Music.

You love those and since you do, he also loves it as well.

It should have been a quick look, just to see what the ruckus is all about only to be met by the most surreal sight.

If he looked closely, did the sky above him have a ceiling with a faint fracture?

Two wolf cubs, each covered with a white blanket and their pointed ears and tails poking out. Whoever made these little alterations, they kept in mind that the fabric will not drag to the ground every time these two rowdy cubs run around chasing butterflies or walk by the lake to take in the scent of freshwater and paw at unsuspecting fishes.

These two wolf cubs, running around, playfully snapping at each other’s tails, and-

-A wooden box with a spinning large disc on top and a golden horn that produces a pleasant sound yet, a voice, certainly his, points to him it is called a vinyl player.

Why does he know what it is called?

“Hey, what are you looking at?!”, one of the wolf cubs barked at him, his tail puffed upon noticing his presence.

“Mind your own business, mister! We found this first!”, the other cub exclaimed, and Sylus doesn’t need to see what is under the blanket to know they are baring their teeth at him.

Luke and Kieran.

Why did those names come to mind when he gaze at these annoying wolf cubs who accused him of stealing their loot?

Sylus doesn’t need that wooden box with a spinning disc (The same prideful voice corrects him again that it is called a vinyl player which he ignores) when you love his singing voice anyways.

“You can keep your box,” he answered and he turned around, a clear sign that is supposed to mean that his curiosity is satiated and he is done with the conversation but the two wolf cubs said otherwise.

“Hey, why do you look like that, mister?”

“That’s not how good and cool boys ask questions, Luke.”

“Right, Kieran. Hey, where did you get those horns and tails, mister?”

“That’s better,” the other wolf cub responded and Sylus doesn’t have to check that these two, who oddly wear the same names that came to his head,  is following him-

-No, stalking him.

“Did no one teach both of you manners?”, Sylus answered, and one of his eyes twitched when one of the wolf cubs tried to snap at his tail, the sharp teeth almost grazing his scales.

“Manners? What’s that?”, the more energetic of the two asked and Sylus shot that one a glare when he noticed he was midway on biting his tail again.

“Oh, I know that one, Mister,” the calmer of the two replied, and he seemed to get the hint that the odd human is not pleased with his brother’s antics so he gently shove his body against his twin chasing the tip of Sylus’ tail, “Those are set of rules good and cool boys follow.”

Why are these two very set on becoming something they don’t even exactly know how to be?

Sylus chose not to answer, his eyes forward and that should have been a clear indicator that he wanted to be on his way alone but these two wolf cubs have decided that he is more interesting over the wooden box they found earlier.

“So, mister, what brings you here?”

“Did you also come here to see the miss’ dragon?”

“We have been waiting for him down here but it looks like he is taking his sweet time up there.”

“We are planning to ask him if he can teach us to be good and cool boys!”, Kieran piped and every time they say those last words, their goal, Sylus noticed both of them seemed to vibrate in excitement just at the thought of becoming one, their tails wagging harder.

“Go find another teacher,” he said instead, making his strides longer but that didn't seem to deter the two despite their short legs who somehow managed to catch up on him.

“Hey mister this isn’t a contest. I am sure he can teach all three of us,” Luke huffed, keeping up with him.

“Yeah, no need to be so selfish,” Kieran added, who was panting as Sylus increased his walking speed.

“Teach the two of you,” Sylus corrected them both, rolling his eyes, “I don’t take students.”

He doesn’t have time for that, not when he has the entire forest to look after that needs him back as soon as possible, not when he has a lovely deer who he will devote his remaining free time to.

That made the two wolf cubs halt and they both looked at each other at this odd human with horns and tail of a dragon carrying a flower.

He was about to sigh in relief when he heard them bursted into laughter behind him.

“What’s so funny?”, Sylus asked, annoyed and his eyes narrowed at the two wolf cubs now rolling on the ground, their laughter mixed with barks.

“Just because you have horns and a tail doesn’t make you the miss’ dragon!”

“Yeah, who are you trying to fool here, weird human?”

“You aren’t her dragon. We’ve seen him!”

“Liar!”, they both said in unison.

Liar.

That word shouldn’t hurt as much but it did.

It certainly did when your face was the first that came to mind, your delicate hands with a bandage around one of your fingers, and your clothes rustling, the soft orange light bathing you in a room filled with the humming of machines and colorful fabrics.

“What brings you here today-”

Skye.

Why are you calling him by a different name?

“I am her dragon,” Sylus said, each word punctuated with his stride and he picked up one of the wolf cubs by the scruff of the neck gentle but firm, “I have never lied to anyone and never will so take that back.”

“Hey, put him down!”, the one still on the ground said, pawing at his leg and if he isn’t holding a flower, he would have lifted this one too just so they both get the point.

“T-the blanket!”, the one in the air exclaimed, horrified when the white blanket slowly slipped away, and his paws reached up to cover his snout, anything that would reveal his face.

“We take it back!”, the other twin cried together with his brother, “We take it back! We believe you!”

Scars.

Clearly inflicted by someone with something sharp.

Wounds that never healed, hidden by white blankets so both of them will still be identical.

Maybe he has been too harsh at these two wolf cubs without a pack.

“Now, Mister Dragon, don’t forget, we have small friends living here too.”

Your soft reprimand echoed in his mind when he accidentally toppled over a rabbit, breaking their leg by accident during a brief scuffle with bandits who thought they could come into your home and take you away.

Right, you wouldn’t be too happy when you see him being too harsh with these wolf cubs.

Sylus put down the sniffling wolf cub beside his twin, the two were quick to lick each other’s tears, and just so they understand that he is sorry , he tugged the blanket and made sure it covered the face the twin was so ashamed to show.

“Go home,” Sylus sighed, and he gave their ears a scratch, hesitant, trying to mimic what you do to your forest friends who end up crying over the simplest things.

“But we don’t have a home.”

“We just followed you here.”

Would you leave them here?

No, he doesn’t think so, not when you welcome every animal that finds your forest, no matter how fearsome they are, with open arms.

“I don’t want to hear you two complaining on my way back,” Sylus answered and their ears perked up, their tails wagging and suddenly, the little incident earlier is forgotten at the fact that the dragon turned odd human is letting them tag along.

“Really?!”, Luke asked, he and his twin back on their feet, “Does that mean you will teach us too?”

“No.”

“If you won’t teach us, then we will be your henchmen, boss,” Kieran piped in, matching his stride. “Learn on the job!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Come on, boss, we’re really good at a lot of stuff! Sniffing, biting, you name it!”, Luke added and his brother joined in, listing down their other abilities (Peculiar ones too. Fixing burnt rice?)

Perhaps Sylus is wrong.

This journey is going to be more than long.

────────────────────

“This is really difficult to do.” 

Luke complained and you chuckled softly when he let you take a look at his progress, his brother hard at work beside him, focused on knitting the cuff of the sock he is working on.

“It doesn’t look promising at first but it will all come together,” you smiled, adjusting the slight gaps between his stitches before handing it back to him who eagerly examined your fix before picking where he left off.

It is getting colder, the neck scarves that the twins used to wear for you are now replaced by red woolen scarves you have knitted yourself, the fabric tied around their necks like a bow and every person who dare tell them they look silly always earn a good shower of threats from them, not when it was you who put it on to them before they leave during the mornings.

You watch over Luke and Kieran huddled together, sitting on the floor by the foot of the bed where your dragon is currently sleeping, all three of you opting to come closer to the fireplace to have a better view of your little projects.

The usual energy they brought with them becomes more tamed when they are focused, only speaking when exchanging notes over their progress or asking for your help. Maybe, winter has a special effect on hybrids like you with all of you being at your most docile self, conserving energy once spring arrives.

The red yarn you are using stretches through the entire mattress, moving by a centimeter every time you put one loop through your knitting needles and then repeat. There is still one last scarf you are working on and its owner is right beside you, still in a deep slumber.

Every now and then, the chimes you and the twins hang on his bedpost sway gently, making faint little notes and earlier, it was an orchestra with Daisy pulling all of them in rapid succession, a little mischief recently it does believing your dragon would wake up due to annoyance.

Anything, just to wake him up before spring arrives.

“Feeling sleepy, Daisy?”, you asked, noticing that your crow friend is huddling near the plushies lined up on the other side of your favorite visitor, and if it stayed still, it is almost similar to the crow plushie it is sitting next to.

It only lets out a beep and perhaps mechanical crows also need to rest when its eyes slowly close but you watch it stand up, fixing the yarn for you and you know it doesn’t want to miss out on anything especially when the twins are around.

“That’s right, fall asleep so all the kisses supposed to be yours will go to us, bird.”

“All the pats, all the hugs, hey-”

Your odd little crow was quick to retaliate, their words waking it up and it tried to peck at them, chastising them and the twins ran around, ducking across all the furniture and jumping over boxes scattered inside the room while you clap, cheering for both sides, the projects you are working on set aside.

Does your laughter reach him in his dreams?

The list of your questions grows as day turns into night, the twins making themselves comfortable at the foot of the bed, tired, all curled up and you set aside the socks they are working on in your basket of yarn.

“Perhaps we should make yours longer,” you mumbled, still awake even when the rest is already asleep, wrapping the scarf around his neck to check.

This silly, silly liar.

This silly, silly dragon.

This silly, silly hero.

Making plans with you, bringing maelstrom upon those who hurt you, and then falling into a deep slumber, here but not quite.

“You lie so gently,” you laughed softly, brushing your nose against his and your tears began to fall into his cheek that you are quick to remove, remembering stray droplets of water bothers him, your fingers grazing his cheek.

Nice and friendly dragons don’t lie yet maybe they do, if that is what it takes to be held close, to be loved and maybe it was greed, selfishness, that drove him to wear such a flimsy mask that took you time to see through.

“Wake up soon,” you said, and this time, perhaps it is longing, a sadness, that you nuzzled your nose against his hair, taking in the scent of fresh blankets and faint cinder.

“I’ll forgive all of your silly, white lies.”

Your soft sobs slowly quiet down, all of you falling asleep at any space around him and you hold the almost finished scarf close to your chest and it might be a cause for celebration but everyone has fallen asleep at this point, failing to notice the subtle sign that the dragon soaring through the skies has finally heard your voices all the way down.

Still unconscious, Sylus’ finger gently hooked itself around the thin red thread of the yarn.

On Sylus’ bedside, his odd family awaits.

────────────────────

He was a very lonely dragon.

At least, that was before and this journey isn’t so bad with two little wolf cubs following you around, making interesting observations and watching them come up with different ways to entertain themselves is something he is looking forward to telling you when he sees you again.

“I spy with my little eye,” Luke hummed, his gaze roaming up towards the sky and then added, “A sheepie!”

“But I don’t smell one right now,” Kieran answered, his snout raised up in the air to take in the scent of the forest.

Good noses.

These two have ridiculously good noses that actually impressed him.

They also make for good compasses, being in this form made Sylus realized that the terrain is much more different on the ground than up in the air and there are many times he almost made a wrong turn but the two are quick to steer him back to the right direction.

“Hey boss, that way is going to the desert.”

“The world is a bit different now that you aren’t flying, huh?”

“I’ll map everything out once I get back,” Sylus answered, giving them a brief nod and their tails wagged faster because of the acknowledgement, the game they were playing earlier now forgotten.

“Can we help?”

“We will carry your things for you!”

He doubts those small bodies can take on much weight and again, you wouldn’t be too happy when you see two wolf cubs used as horses.

If anything, he had a foresight that these two will always be at your side any chance they get.

“Come on, boss, say yes,” Kieran said and the two started to do this tactic again where they would weave between his legs.

“We’re very strong.”

“You’re still way stronger than us though.”

There they are again with this self-promotion that would have worked if they weren't unintentionally making him trip and he secured the flower pot on his arms closer to him, the woolly petals still vibrant despite the long journey, its color brighter under the sunlight passing the leaves of the tall trees scattered on the borders of your forest.

Every now and then, small creatures pass by, barely making a sound, and even the breathing of larger ones are overwhelmed by the rustle of the fallen leaves carried by the gentle breeze, the chorus of birds, all familiar except a particular faint sound.

No, collection of sounds, resounding.

If he looked closely, did the sky above him have a ceiling with a growing fracture?

“Hey boss, that’s not the right way,” Luke pointed out, noticing Sylus turning in a different direction but they followed him, curious why the dragon who is very insistent on getting to you as soon as possible is deviating from the road where you are waiting.

Sylus just had to check, every unfamiliar sound is a cause for action. A ringing, tinkling, even harmonious as it could be, means swords being sharpened from a distance.

Did those humans think they could come for you just because he isn’t around?

Only, he is met with the strangest sight.

Chimes, hanging on every branch, and they all grow in number as they venture deeper, the road leading to a cliff and at the edge, a small belfry.

Of course, the two wolf cubs did not find this odd at all when they are sounding each chime they can reach one by one and with all this ruckus, he is sure that all the forest creatures are making their way to you already to file a complaint, even if they have to take a long journey to the heart of the forest.

“Must you two ring every single one of them?”, he asked, slightly exasperated, and two wolf cubs wagged their tails, the wet snowflakes from the trees’ branches falling on his cheeks but faded away just as fast.

“Not really, but they make the nicest sound!”, Luke said, jumping over his brother’s back to pull the rope of a chime hanging on a particularly higher branch.

“You should ring the ones you can reach, boss,” Kieran suggested, and this time, he rang one of the chimes beside him, “We might get a prize!”

Then, he knew that the small belfry certainly is the most enticing among all of them because the two immediately went for it, running towards it and he had to put the flower pot aside just so he could hold both of them under his arms.

“Oh, we get it!”

“You want to ring the most important looking of them all!”

“All yours, boss!”, they said in unison.

Sylus rolled his eyes but it only took him a few strides until he was standing in front of the small belfry and while turning away is indeed an option, he knows the twins would pester him with all their might.

“I wonder what that bell would have sounded if you rang it.”

Your possible words echoed in his head if he recounts this story to you after his return and he would hate to disappoint that one of his stories doesn’t have a definite conclusion.

“Fine, let’s see if this one will get you both a prize,” he sighed and he reached out to ring the lone bell by the edge of the cliff.

If this grove of chimes is an ensemble, then this bell is certainly the conductor because the rest stop making a sound, the toll of this one resonating across the trees and further beyond the boundaries of your forest.

It continues its solo, the clapper hitting the lip in an equal interval until finally, it comes into a halt.

Then, silence.

“Where’s the prize?”, Luke asked.

“Maybe the prize is the friends we make along the way-”, Kieran replied only for his words to be cut off, the ground shaking, and Sylus stepped back further from the small belfry, closer to where he left the flower pot.

Might as well see this until the end.

A rumble, the finale of the bell’s overture, and then-

-A loud aria akin to a songbird.

The singer perched by the edge of the cliff, a giant crow carrying a red thread on its beak that it dropped to caw at them loudly, certainly annoyed at being summoned.

“Since when did Mephisto grow so large?”

The same prideful voice, certainly his, mused in his head (and thoroughly finding the strange sight hilarious) and the crow tilted its head side to side, studying him and the two wolf cubs before letting out a loud caw once again, shaking the trees and sounding all the chimes at the same time, as if telling them it is clearly busy and if they need anything, they should get on with it.

“See, I told you!”, Kieran exclaimed, wagging his tail and still under Sylus’ arm.

“I never thought I would see such a large chicken,” Luke said, awed and Sylus had to take another step back because clearly, Luke’s way of inspecting new discoveries is by snapping his teeth at them.

The crow let out a series of beeps and caws that oddly enough, Sylus managed to piece together, begrudgingly telling them if they need a ride to the home of the deer and her dragon living in this forest, then it will give them just that.

“She is clearly busy knitting a scarf for her beloved but if you want to disturb her like the rest, then go ahead.”

Yet, those words lingered in Sylus’ mind and his eyes landed on the red thread that the giant crow was carrying.

It was helping you put together the scarf you are making for him, expecting him to indeed return before spring, at least in the last days of winter.

“I am her beloved,” Sylus corrected the crow, letting the two wolf cubs hang on his shoulders while he picked up the flower pot, the mountain flower swaying gently against the cold breeze, “And I intend to fulfill my words to her.”

The giant crow just cackled, letting Sylus hold on to its feet before picking up the red thread on its beak.

“Right, odd human, try telling that in front of her dragon.”

With its large wings that almost covered the winter sun, it took flight and the two wolf cubs hanging on his shoulders huddled closer to him for warmth against the cold breeze, howling in excitement.

This journey is finally nearing its end.

────────────────────

“Sylus.”

How many times have you repeated his name in front of the bathroom mirror of this home only to end up blushing?

Addressing him without the honorific sounds impolite despite you and him spending so much time together.

You mostly do these little ‘practices’ as you called it by the balcony, not by his bed because it would be embarrassing for your favorite visitor to wake up and see you using the deer puppet to talk to the dragon puppet acting as his stand-in.

There were already hints, breadcrumbs left behind just for you.

Expensive watches with various designs.

Leather shoes crafted by artisans.

Vehicles with sleek exterior imported from other countries.

Every visit, they change, all of them unique but you always pass them off, convinced that Mr. Sylus is an extremely generous employer and an understanding one too because there are many times that your favorite visitor stayed longer than he should inside your studio.

“You’re a funny man, Mr. Sylus,” you sighed, gazing at the dragon puppet sitting on a chair across from you then you shook your head, correcting yourself, “I mean, Sylus.”

The two syllables tumbled out of your mouth haphazardly, not when a lopsided smile is forming in your face every time you say his real name.

His intentions had always been pure, his actions are clear and you can never harbor anger towards the man who started this charade.

Mr. Sylus’ life has been foreign to you but you are aware he is a very powerful man and he could have everything in the world and more, his tower of treasures reaching the heavens yet your simple question of ‘why’ is much complex.

Why choose an ordinary seamstress? 

(You only know how to sew clothes. The fabric scissors are a tool to cut through clothes, not enemies. The needle to repair tears, not inflict pain.)

Why did he lie? 

(Afraid. Perhaps predator hybrids are all too familiar with all kinds of fear, the fear of rejection always so common, and he, the strongest of them all, is most likely expecting you to flee if you know his real name.)

Why is he afraid? 

(He has always been brave in your eyes but his request, no, a plea, for you to close your eyes on that fateful day says differently.)

“Miss Deer, we’re back!”

Luke’s voice carried all the way to the balcony from the entrance hall and you stood up, brushing your apron and then pointing your puppet at the dragon puppet.

“Let’s talk more later,” you said and then you added, the syllables as always, a little lopsided, “Sylus.”

You picked up the dragon puppet, removing yours and walking towards the living room to find the twins setting down all the shopping they have brought with him the usual stack of papers pending your dragon’s signature, the pile growing larger as each day passes by in his deep slumber.

“Your husband is still asleep?” Louis greeted you and you immediately grew red, covering your face with the two puppets and looking away.

Aside from the twins, a few select members of Onychinus, the doctors, Louis, and the older lion hybrid are the only people allowed to come by and visit this place, dropping off important items, often for him, but sometimes for you.

“Now, Louis, Mr. Sylus wouldn’t be too happy if you are the one making the miss blush and not him,” the older lion hybrid chided the young male deer hybrid who only rolled his eyes, and your eyes darted at the familiar package he left at the counter.

That package is certainly from your favorite bakery and you are also sure your father had them sent it to you on his behalf.

“What do you think the two of them are doing when alone in her studio?”, Louis pointed out while you slowly inch closer to check the contents of the box, recognizing the scent of strawberries, not minding his remarks.

“Hey, our boss is nothing but a gentleman!”, Luke exclaimed.

“They talk, that's what they do!”, Kieran added and Daisy also beeped in agreement.

“Right and oddly enough they both carry each other’s scents,” Louis replied and then you only halt your step when he turns his attention to you.

Maybe you should retract your newest impression of him because you are finding him quite rude.

The male deer hybrid had been counting days, of course, and while N109 zone is still in the same state (A state of chaos that’s its default by now) several of the prey hybrids expressed concerns to him that Sylus laying dormant means a temporary power vacuum and while everyone is still cowering on the dark, he is sure they will step out one by one and fight over his empire.

That dragon really had to wake up soon because all of his allies can only handle so much.

“You,” Louis said, looking at you as if you hold the key to this current dilemma.

“Me?”, you asked, tilting your head.

“Yes, you,” Louis started, frowning,  “Who else? Anyways, have you exhausted all of the possible options of waking your husband up?”

Why does he keep referring to your favorite visitor as your husband? You can’t even call him by his real name yet.

“I-”, you opened your mouth but the twins were quick to intervene.

“She talks to him day and night if that’s what satisfies you.”

“She’s taking care of him and even the doctors said to wait it out.”

“Louis, you are putting unnecessary pressure over the miss here,” the older lion hybrid added, standing at your side but the male deer hybrid shook his head, in thought.

Talk. These two are claiming you talk to Sylus but he believes that the dragon hybrid might need a more potent medicine than that.

“I also sing to him,” you said softly, looking down on your feet and your ears drooping slightly.

Perhaps there are other options you haven't tried but your favorite visitor’s room is overflowing with trinkets at this point with the number of ideas you and the twins are coming up with.

“Hear that?”, the lion hybrid chuckled when he saw Louis sighed in frustration while the twins comforted you, telling you to not mind the grumpy deer, “Everyone is doing their best. The next step lies with Sylus.”

These people throw around his real name so easily it is making you slightly envious and your eyes lingered at the package with a handwritten note clearly from your father.

Once your favorite visitor wakes up, you and him should have tea and cake just like you always do.

“If all options fail, perhaps you should take a page of how fairy tales are written,” Louis grumbled, setting the rest of the boxes with your name in it on top of the counter, clearly gifts from your neighbors.

“Fairy tales?”

“I think the boss misses your voice. It is time for his evening music anyways,” Kieran is quick to cut, shooting a glare towards the male deer hybrid before he and his brother guided you gently towards the room where your dragon is sleeping.

Your eyes lingered at the pastry box but followed them anyway and you hope they don’t forget to put it in the refrigerator later or else the icing might not be as good if left out overnight.

“Don’t mind him,” Kieran said when you stepped inside the room, always very diligent as he already pulled the usual chair for you to sit, “You shouldn’t be forced to take unnecessary measures.”

“We can still handle it even without the boss,” Luke added.

They don’t need to tell you but you count the number of tears their clothes have every time they return here, steadily increasing, how their sleeps are deeper, how they stayed longer than usual inside the bathroom fixing their wounds, and you know that the N109 zone will need more than two wolf boys to keep everything at bay.

“You’re nice boys,” you smiled, your hands reaching up to pat their heads. “Both of you have always been.”

Their tails wagged in delight, stooping slightly so you wouldn’t strain yourself.

Your approval is more than enough for them to keep going.

“You think so?”

“I think so.”

You scratched their pointed ears and they hugged you tight around your waist, their tails wagging faster and your eyes wandered to your sleeping dragon.

His eyes still closed, yet every now and then it flutters.

His remaining horn, pointed as ever, and you look forward where you and his grows back.

His forehead, his cheeks, places where you have gifted him many kisses hoping he will receive it in his field of dreams.

And then, his lips,-

-You have finally understood Louis’ suggestion.

Naive as you can be, you know there are kisses that shouldn’t be granted without the other person’s permission.

In Sylus’ bedside, his odd family awaits.

────────────────────

He was a very lonely dragon.

Hitching a ride with a giant crow certainly cut his journey short and in the distance, he caught a glimpse of the clearing, the endless field of red wildflowers now covered with a thin layer of snow.

An oasis, a paradise and ahead is his precious deer, always so patient.

Dealing with the two wolf cubs was bearable but a bird who constantly pokes fun of his identity? If they weren’t so high up and if it wasn’t helping you knit, he will certainly show this bird he is indeed your dragon who went on a journey.

All Sylus wants to do now is to hand you the mountain flower, take a long rest with you in his arms, and-

-Right, the question .

These three have been bothering him that he hasn’t even been able to reword his request, aware that he can’t hold your face and press his lips against yours.

He is a fiend but he is better than that.

“You live here, boss?”

“There are so many new things I don’t know which one to sniff first!”

The moment they landed, the two wolf cubs already had their snouts pressed against the ground, taking in the new scents and it is not difficult to miss them even when they are wearing white blankets because of their dark tails poking above the snow.

The giant crow cawed at him for one last time, snobbish before it wagged its tail feathers in a flourish, before picking up the red thread it was carrying, looking for you.

Even with the different surroundings, Sylus knows where to look for you and with the mountain flower but perhaps the long red thread of the scarf you are knitting for him helped.

That scarf could have been a blanket now considering he isn’t technically a dragon anymore.

Snowflakes clung on his hair, his lashes and those that fall into his cheeks melt quickly and it is home.

Home is where the red wildflowers grow.

Home is where you and him stand in the field of flowers, listening to the voices of this land.

Home is where your soul is.

There you are, huddled against your forest friends, bears, deer, foxes, and even that giant crow managed to beat him on finding you first, your arms already wrapped around it.

Your deer ears flick the falling snow, and your breathing was easy.

The sacred deer of the forest, waiting, always waiting, for her dearest to return from a far-off land.

He is home.

His hand, his human hand, reached out to brush the small braid you always wear by the side of your face and you stirred, leaning against the warmth of his palm.

Then, he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours before pulling back, gazing at you fondly as you slowly opened your eyes.

There was a moment of silence, your eyes studying his face and you smiled.

“Now, why are you going around with a new face without telling me?”

“You are the one person who is yet to call me your false dragon, little doe.”

His eyes lingered on the shape of your lips when you laugh, soft and careful not to awaken your friends as he helped you stand up, on your hands is a scarf certainly for him.

“You came home just as you promised.”

Of course he did, and he reached out to hold your hand while you walked through your grove. From a distance, he can hear the two wolf cubs running around, barking happily.

Contented.

Secured.

Safe.

He has always been at peace here and yet-

-The sky above him has a ceiling and slowly, the fissure grows larger.

Was the horizon always like that?

Yet, you were so calm as you examined the mountain flower he had given to you, your delicate hands brushing against the petals.

“Darling.”

He called out softly, and his eyes did not move from you when you tuck the bloom, the prize he had brought all the way from the mountains, behind his ear.

“Yes?”

It was your voice, he is certain and yet when you wrap the thick scarf that pooled on his feet around his neck, your hands lack the certain familiarity when you guide his hand when cutting the fabric.

No words formed, not when he is slowly coming into terms that this is but a distant dream, one of the many, longer than usual and he had overstayed.

All the fragments, his wishes, his desires, his emotions, always converge in one place and in his mind, they always take form of-

You.

“I always have to remind you many times that I am not her.”

You held both of his hands, laughing softly and even with the realization, hearing such a sound always brings a smile on his lips.

“You can’t blame me for that, sweetie, you always make the wait difficult sometimes.”

“You have told me several times.”

“Even then, I can never be angry at you. Not when I am too selfish to end the game.”

“You have always been scared that I would look at you differently if you do.”

A pause.

A hope.

A longing for reassurance.

“Would you?”

“You simply need to hear my answer.”

He was never the guardian of this forest.

Yet this dream, this dream is the most pleasant he has that it convinced him so well, so well of the role he never took and then, perhaps it was the long journey that when you lead him back to the rest of your forest friends, still asleep, he knew he only had a few moments to say goodbye.

The wolf cubs, tired from playing, finally have friends.

The giant crow, content, rests its body beside you.

The dreaming dragon, on your lap, is now ready to return to his true home.

For the finale of his dream, a pleasant awakening awaits.

────────────────────

Was it that Sylus always longs for?

You have never been in his bed, you have never stepped foot on any of his many houses, yet the scent of cotton and wildflowers had always followed him, subtle, gentle, comforting.

When he opened his eyes, everything almost overwhelmed him.

The colors, the sounds, and the scents, all blending together that he had to close his eyes to steady his breath and his heart racing too fast, not when your scent had taken reign among the rest.

“Sy-”

He froze.

“Sy-”

It was a second attempt, trembling but he will always recognize the gentle pitch belonging only to one very special person.

“Sy. Lus.”

A third attempt and he turned around to the source of voice who is once again, trying to pronounce his name, to be more continuous this time.

There you are, sitting by his bedside, clearly aware now that he is awake and you are holding on your apron too hard.

The red dusting your cheeks has always been a wonderful color on you.

His precious deer, too sweet, always trying her best, and his sunrise, the light above your head like a halo.

“There’s my darling.”

Perhaps he had held on your arm too hard, only wanting to look at you closely and maybe brush his nose against yours, just to check if this is the waking world but you stumbled towards him, your chair falling against the floor and were you always this light? Yes, you have always been and only the sense of parting with you, even for just a few hours, have made everything too heavy, too hard to let go.

Here you are, finally taking the place he had reserved just for you.

You were quick to lift the hem of your apron near your face, not when he is too close, hovering above you and the first thing you have thought about is you certainly have not practiced for this outcome with the puppet.

Yes, Sylus is certain this is real and even with his mind still hazy, he knows he still owes you an appointment.

“You sounded almost confident there, sweetie,” he laughed, his voice slightly hoarse, and he rested his forehead against yours, “Let’s try again.”

“Sy-”

You paused, looking at the chimes above his head and lowering your apron.

Your lips have never been this inviting.

“Come on.”

He gently coaxed, his tail flicking in excitement and his smile grew.

“Sylus.”

You said softly and you gasped when he pulled you close, hugging you tight and perhaps his laugh was so infectious that you can’t help but do the same, both of you rolling against the white blankets.

There are many things you want to say, questions you want to ask but with him wide awake, all you want to do is also make sure he is here, talking, laughing.

“Mister Dragon?”

He didn’t say anything, playfully smiling at you as he took your wrist, taking in that familiar scent and the warm touch, making sure this isn’t one of his too pleasant dreams.

“Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Will it be too much to ask if you keep your eyes open for a bit longer today?”

“Was I asleep for that long?”, he asked but he doesn’t need a confirmation, not when the clock by the bed already answered it for him.

Midnight.

Here you are, still clinging to the waking world, not wanting to miss a moment if he wakes up.

It was a weak nod but Sylus knew you have been waiting patiently, and the many trinkets scattered in the room finally explained the odd elements of his long dream.

“I’ll keep them open for you, little doe.”

“Thank you. I would like that very much.”

“Are there any requests my precious deer wants to ask from me?”

Your deer ears perked up upon realizing you might be imposing on him especially he just woke up but maybe, there is nothing wrong being selfish for once, just for a little favor.

“Will you keep them open even if I fall asleep?”, you asked slowly, trying to keep your eyes wide open, “I am afraid you might take a long nap again.”

“You’re so silly, sweetheart. I had a long rest. I’ll be awake before you”

“But why?”

“Well, I can’t have a guest in my home starving when she wakes up,” he answered, pulling the thick blanket above your heads, “She might not come back anymore to an inhospitable dragon.”

“Oh-”

How could you forget? He was asleep for so long that you haven’t thought that he might be hungry right now.

His eyes widened, watching you slowly unbutton your blouse.

“Now-”, he chuckled, strained when he held your wrist gently to stop you and his gaze may have lingered at the slope of your exposed neck and then at the strap of your bra barely covered by fabric of your blouse, “You don’t need to offer yourself up to me, sweetie. I feel just fine.”

He carefully buttoned your blouse again, taking one last look at the fading mark he had left on that fateful night.

Even with your clothes slightly crumpled, you were true to your word and he has a suspicion you dress up nicely everyday, waiting at his side.

“Are you sure?”

“I have never been sure.”

You hummed in thought and he pressed a kiss on top of your head, chuckling softly.

“You can rest easy now, sweetie.”

“Then you will still be here?”

“I couldn’t fall asleep now, not when you are here beside me, little doe.”

The soft exchange, the little reassurances that he won’t be taking a long nap anytime soon, and all it took was a pinky promise sealed with a kiss when your eyes drooped slowly, tired from your vigil.

His thumb brushes against your bottom lip but that is the closest he can have for now.

When you wake up, it might be his turn to be a little selfish in the morning.

Afterall, would it be too much to ask you to repeat his name a couple more times?

.

.

.

In Sylus' bedside, his family waits no more.

────────────────────

Author's Note: I honestly wanted to write a dream sequence ever since with a mix of surreal undertones (You know how trippy dreams can be.) and I wanted those parts to also be a reflection of Sylus' perspective of this odd game of charade he started between our Miss Deer and him. Did lots of foreshadowing prior to this and here we are!

I am now off playing BG3!

As always, see you in the next update!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[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. 

[kesujo]

Chapter 14: Miss Not-So-Innocent - Part 1

Previous chapter here. 8.4k words

“Hey, by the way, how’s it going with Tiffany?”

“Hm?”

Jessica showed up an hour or so after Parker had finished dinner. Seeing that she arrived in her pajamas, Parker was about to turn her away when she said she just wanted to hang out and was feeling a little lonely. He knew Hunter had to leave the state for an emergency for one of the hotels he was responsible for—a safety threat of some kind—leaving Jessica by herself for a few days now, so he shrugged and let her in. Fortunately, Jessica stayed true to her word, joining him in watching a volleyball match in the living room and doing nothing more.

In fact, with how much Parker’s been interacting with Jessica recently due to work, casual conversations in the office in which the subject of sex didn’t come up even in subtle, teasing jest were becoming more and more frequent. It was nice, even if Jessica had called him into her office the other day to coat his penis with some weird stuff while she kept it erect for a few minutes and refused to elaborate further afterwards. Otherwise, however, their conversations were … exceedingly normal. It’s only been a week, but having normal interactions with Jessica was a nice breath of fresh air. When she wasn’t dragging him to film pornos or dragging him into her office to be railed with her tits hanging out the windows, Jessica was a very charming, very likeable person. So, Parker’s guard slowly but surely dropped, to the point that he had pretty much forgotten that Jessica was sitting next to him on the couch until she posed the question.

“Pretty…” Parker racked his brain for any possible way he might’ve wronged Tiffany that would thus elicit the question from Jessica. Was it that kiss? But she didn’t seem to mind that much … was there anything else? Did he find some other way to mess up? “…good?”

Seeing Parker’s hesitation, Jessica laughed. “Relax, I’ve heard from Tiffany but want to hear from you too.”

Hearing that, Parker let out a sigh. “Yeah. Pretty good. I took her mini-golfing and then had seafood for dinner. It was a ton of fun, at least for me, but…”

“Hm?”

With how socially aware Jessica was, Parker was really hoping he wouldn’t have to spell it out for her. “Well … you know, how—what’d you hear about it from her?”

When Jessica stayed silent for a few seconds, Parker’s heart plummeted. Was it that bad?

“Do you want to know how Tiffany reacted to watching that porno we shot?”

Parker didn’t know what he thought Jessica said at first. He had to do a triple-take to fully understand it, and when he did, “Ti—” actually, was he hearing correctly? “—Tiffany?!”

“Hm?”

“You showed that to her?!”

Jessica met Parker’s bewilderment with a nonchalant smile. “Yeah. Don’t worry though, she loved it. You should’ve seen how red her face was.” In the back of Parker’s mind, he had to admit that the sight would’ve been really endearing. “But, I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t know we fuck on a regular basis.”

Parker groaned. Was that a good sign? What did Jessica’s answer even mean? “But … ah, but that’s … and she knows it was us?”

“Mhm.”

Parker’s mind was beginning to short circuit. The fact that Jessica was so jovial about this was a good thing, right? “And she knew it was us when she asked to see it?”

“Mmhm.”

“And … she really watched it, all the way through?”

“Yep.”

“And she … she liked it?”

Jessica laughed. “Yeah! Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“I mean … are you sure it was ok to show Tiffany something like that?”

“Well yeah, considering she was the one who insisted on watching it.”

Parker’s jaw dropped. “She—” if it wasn’t Jessica who was telling him this, he never in a million years would’ve believed it. Heck, even though it was Jessica, Parker was still unsure if he believed that. “—she wanted to watch it?”

“Yep. I know, I was surprised too.”

The adorable, wide-eyed Tiffany, who could barely say the words ‘sex’ or ‘fuck’ without turning beet red, who was hesitant to even ask for a goodbye kiss after their last date … that Tiffany asked to see a porno her best friend and said date featured in?

“I can see that you don’t believe me.”

“I mean, you can understand why, though.”

“Yeah. I teased Tiff about it for days.” There was laughter in Jessica’s voice, and a little bit within Parker himself, he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. “You know, you two are so darn cute together!” Unable to contain the excited schoolgirl inside her any longer, she let out a squeal so loud that Parker jumped. “I knew you’d be perfect for each other! You should’ve heard her squealing to me about how perfect you are after every single one of your dates!”

Hearing that put Parker a bit more at ease. “Well, glad to hear it. Just, go easy on her, alright?”

“Aw, worried about your girl?”

“She’s not—” Parker stopped, realizing Jessica wasn’t going to listen no matter how firmly he denied it.

“I mean, she pretty much is, right?”

“What?”

Jessica’s grin grew wider. “Come on, you don’t think Tiff didn’t fill me in on all the deets about your dates? How you got a discount at that restaurant for being a ‘really cute couple’, how you kissed her goodnight in front of her parents after that one date, and how that turned into an impromptu first meeting with them, and how they ended up adoring you?” Parker groaned. He could feel the tips of his ears turning redder by the second: he just wanted to smash his head into the couch’s armrest, but the rally going on in the volleyball match was too intense to turn his eyes away from.

“Jess—”

“Oh, and of course, on your most recent date, where you gave her a pad when she forgot to put extras in her purse?!” Parker was now convinced: the reason why Jessica was so giddy about Tiffany getting together with him was so that she could tease both of them relentlessly. Never mind what he thought before, about Jessica being incredibly likeable: she was the Devil herself. “I’ve heard from Tiff’s parents about male friends of hers they disapprove of. But to think you managed to charm them after kissing their daughter goodnight?! That’s almost unheard of! No, scratch that, that is absolutely unheard of!”

“Can you please stop?”

Jessica let out a giggle. “You and Tiff both, the way your voices get so quiet and your ears turn so red, are just too adorable.”

After a brief pause, Parker spoke back up. “So, you know how I only asked you twenty-two questions about Tiffany?” Jessica nodded. “I’m going to use one of them now.” Sensing the seriousness in his voice, the smile faded from her face. “Are you one-hundred-percent sure Tiffany is willing to have an open relationship?” This was the one hangup that was preventing Parker from asking Tiffany to be his girlfriend. Going out with Tiffany while fucking her best friend just felt wrong. Spending time with Tiffany, talking to her, just being around her made Parker feel like he was on cloud nine, but that thought lingering in the back of his mind prevented him from fully enjoying it. He wouldn’t put it past Tiffany to simply be too nice to acquiesce with an open relationship when she, in reality, wasn’t. Or maybe she even gaslit herself into believing that she was. “I mean, maybe you’re not the right person to ask, but…”

“Yeah … I know, right? A sweet, innocent, traditionalist girl like Tiffany? Especially after what she went through?” Parker didn’t respond, continuing to watch the match. Parker figured Jessica was talking about the troublesome experience Tiffany had with an ex, but seeing as how she kept her wording vague, he didn’t pry. “I’ve talked to her a lot about it, reassuring her I’d be willing to give up on my competition with Hunter in a heartbeat for her, but every time, she said that she’s sure about it.”

“I … I see.”

It set Parker’s mind at ease somewhat, but still didn’t fully clear up the muddiness in his mind about the topic. He would just have to talk to Tiffany about it.

“Have you two fucked since the first time?”

Parker snorted. “What—what are you asking all of the sudden?!”

Jessica just smiled. “So, that’s a no?”

“No! For your information, it’s already not normal to have had sex with someone before starting to date them.”

“That’s such a waste though, with how hot Tiff is and how much of a blast you two were having last time.” Parker’s face flushed a little at that memory. It was true that having sex with Tiffany was great, and he would be lying if he said that he never thought about it, but Parker prioritized taking the proper steps in their relationship first. He was thankful for Jessica for introducing them, but he didn’t need her to influence it with her salacious tendencies.

“It’ll happen when it happens.”

“That might be sooner than you think. I’m pretty sure Tiffany is—” the notification sound of a phone interrupted her, and when Jessica whipped hers out to check it, she got up. “—sorry, my friend just got here, she’s in the lobby. We were supposed to hang out, but do you mind if she comes here?”

No. No, no no no. He wasn’t going to get roped into this again. He didn’t care how unlikely it seemed that this friend of Jessica’s would want to have sex with him, he had gotten caught off guard too many times with thoughts like surely not or but this is too far-fetched or Jessica isn’t this insane to disregard that possibility.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“But she came to hang out with you, right?”

“I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

What was Jessica doing here? Did this friend know about him for some reason? Sure, if Parker was visiting a friend, he wouldn’t mind meeting a friend of his friend’s, but saying he’d love to was stretching it a bit. Maybe this friend just liked meeting new people … otherwise, Parker couldn’t shake off the paranoid feeling that this was going where he feared it might be going. “I’m nothing special.”

“I beg to differ, you’re my husband’s best friend. Such a man is not ‘nothing special’.”

Parker sighed. He knew where this was going: they would go back and forth until Jessica made him feel guilty for refusing to accommodate this friend of hers. In fact, they didn’t even need to go back-and-forth much more, he was already starting to feel that guilt, but trying to disregard it to fend off his paranoia felt a moot task. “If she really wants to come over, then yeah, she can.”

“Great! I’ll be right back!”

In the few minutes Jessica took to retrieve her friend, Parker weighed the possibility that he would be roped into more shenanigans. If she was even able to rope Tiffany in, then what about her friends who were more like her? Parker didn’t really know many of Jessica’s friends, but from what little he heard about them from Tiffany, she was more so the odd-one-out than the normal one. Given, in that context, it seemed like Tiffany was joking, so all Parker could hope was that Tiffany was exaggerating a bit for comedic effect.

When a knock came at the door, Parker jumped out of his seat. “Coming!” Opening the door, he was greeted with the smiling visage of Jessica and one other, slightly shorter but truly breathtakingly beautiful woman. If Parker was tasked with the objective to sculpt the most aesthetically pleasing face he could imagine, this woman would’ve easily beaten the product of his imagination. Parker didn’t know what it was with Jessica and having the most attractive friends, but she was an almost mystical, ethereal beauty that he almost couldn’t believe existed in the real world. Her skin was fair, unblemished, and porcelain white; her hair jet black, silky smooth, stopping at her chest; the only thing that could be said about her was that her slim figure didn’t make way for many curves, but even that seemed to suit her pure, innocent visuals well. Above all else, though, was how well her facial features fit on her face: her eyes were large, her eyelashes long, her eyebrows perfectly trimmed, her nose slim and long, her lips full, her cheekbones protruding and her perfectly aligned teeth shining white against his apartment’s lights.

“Parker, this is Irene, a childhood f—…”

Jessica abruptly cut herself off, looking over at the other woman, who gave her an encouraging nod, emphatically interjecting, “Friend!”

“—friend of mine.”

“Hi!” The luminescent woman stepped in and embraced the significantly taller man in a hug, a gesture which momentarily caught him off guard. “Oh wow, you’re pretty tall.”

“Uh—” He had never met Irene before, so being introduced with such a friendly gesture stunned him for a brief second. “—yeah, sorry.”

“Oh, no need to apologize! It would probably be easy to tackle you, I would just have to duck a little and your arms would go right over my head!”

Parker let out an utterly bewildered chuckle. “Wh-What?”

“See?” Irene demonstrated by doing exactly what she said, ducking a little and wrapping her arms around his torso, planting her face against the bottom of his sternum. “It goes right over,” she said, tilting her head upwards to see Parker’s arms swiping at open air.

“Yeah … I guess it does…” Parker looked over at Jessica who was just looking at the two with a bemused smile. He shot her a confused glance, to which she replied with a shrug.

Irene released Parker, squatting down to pick up a package she had dropped to hug him. It was only then that Parker noticed it. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just something Jessica asked me to pick up for her.”

“…Right, gotcha.” The vague answer reminded Parker of the hesitation with this entire ordeal, something that Irene’s effervescent introduction had caused him to forget. Did he really want to know what that package contained? Did he even care? Why didn’t they drop it off at Jessica’s place, which was right next door, first? None of these were questions he was going to get answers to anyway, so Parker just kept them to himself.

“Were you watching volleyball?”

“Yeah. Do you watch?”

“Nope!”

The answer, again, caught Parker off guard. With the amount of enthusiasm Irene asked the question, Parker figured she recognized the teams or at least had some degree of interest in the sport. “Oh.” Usually, Parker was able to carry a conversation better and more naturally. With Irene, he couldn’t even formulate a proper response in his mind.

“Oh—oh my gosh, they’re hitting that ball so fast! I can’t imagine intentionally letting that hit my own arms.”

Well, that was something to work with at least. “Yeah, those spikes can get up to sixty miles-per-hour.”

“Don’t you need to be tall to play volleyball?” Irene turned to face Parker. “You’re pretty tall, right? Have you ever played it?”

“Me? No, I just like to watch. I’m probably on the shorter side for volleyball players, honestly.”

Hearing that made Irene’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Really?! Wow … I probably wouldn’t even have to duck to tackle them.”

Another chuckle escaped Parker’s lips. “Why would you want to tackle them?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t it fun to tackle people sometimes?”

“I don’t…” Parker trailed off, completely unable to formulate a response. “…Jessica, how do you keep up with her?”

Jessica smiled. “I don’t. I just let her say whatever she wants.”

“Hm…”

Irene didn’t seem to mind, plopping down on the sofa and setting the package down next to her. “Oh wait, number nine is pretty hot, isn’t he?”

“Hm?” Jessica turned towards the TV screen, finding the player with the corresponding jersey. “Yeah, he is.”

“How tall is he? Do you know?”

Irene turned towards Parker, who could only shrug. “My guess is somewhere between six-two and six-five.”

“Holy … that’s a bit too tall, isn’t it? I mean, if someone’s that tall, would I even have to kneel to give him a blowjob?”

Parker let out a hacking cough. “Wha-What?”

“I mean, you’d probably have to bend down a little. Like, for Parker, I can still kneel and be level with his dick, but I need to pull it down a little while straining my neck up a little to compensate.”

“Oh, I see. But what if their penis isn’t as big? Then wouldn’t it be slightly harder to pull it down to the level of your face while kneeling?”

“Oh, that may be true…” What the hell kind of a conversation were they having? And why were they speaking about it so casually? And especially in front of someone else? “So I guess you’d have to squat or something.”

“Hmm … wouldn’t it be pretty hot to be riding one of their dicks while another one of them stuffed your mouth from above?” Jessica pondered it, not seeming to be very convinced of the idea. Parker, on the other hand, was still recovering from the whiplash from the stream of vulgar words coming out of the mouth of the woman with contrastingly angelic, pure visuals. “Or maybe they could spitroast you with your feet off the ground, or maybe even suspend you in midair while fucking you in both your pussy and your ass.”

“Hm … I’m pretty sure Hunter’s a little shorter than Parker, but the suspended spitroast idea sounds so hot…” Parker, no longer feeling comfortable with the conversation, slowly got up and off the couch, but before he could escape, Jessica grabbed ahold of his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Uh … bathroom?”

“Right there,” Jessica motioned towards Irene, who simply shot Parker a smile.

“What?”

“There’s your urinal,” she repeated, Irene opening her mouth in tandem.

Parker scoffed. “Wha-What are you even saying?”

“What she’s saying is that you’re free to use me like a toilet.”

Oh god, now there were two of them. He knew it—he knew it was a bad idea to let Jessica invite her friend into his apartment. Why was he so soft on her? “I’m not—” hearing Parker sigh caused the two to burst into a fit of giggles. “—you tw—what’s wrong with you, Jessica?”

“Huh? Were you about to ask Irene what’s wrong with her?”

“What?” Irene’s face took on an exaggerated look of offense. “How could you? All I did was offer my mouth as your urinal.”

“Like—” Even when there was one Jessica, Parker often found himself overwhelmed with how sexually and kinkily she spoke. “—I, like, I mean, you realize why that’s a really—” But now that there was a second one just as sexual and kinky, if not more so … how was he supposed to react? “—that’s, like, you know, not … normal … not a normal thing to say?”

Irene shrugged. “Normal’s boring.”

Oh. Was this where Jessica got that idea from?

“Right…”

“Well?”

“Hm?”

“You need to go to the bathroom, right?”

“No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use Irene’s mouth. I mean, I just met her, you know.”

“Oh, but she knows all about you.”

That couldn’t be good. How could he escape? But this was his apartment. Where could he even run to?

“I really don’t want to know—”

“She watched our porno.”

“God damn it, is there anyone you didn’t show that to?”

Jessica giggled. “Just like one or two more friends, don’t worry.” That was not the answer Parker was hoping Jessica would give him, but he figured he should be thankful it was only one or two more of her friends.

“Can I see it?” Irene couldn’t be talking about what he thought she might be talking about. There was no way. A woman he met just minutes ago for the first time … surely, she wasn’t asking to see his—“I want to see your dick for myself.”

Parker could only laugh. Ordinarily, having such a beautiful woman request such a thing would’ve been at least somewhat humbling, but given the situation, Parker couldn’t feel anything less than absolutely and utterly bewildered. Not only was it difficult to keep up with another Jessica, but the implication that something about the porno made Irene want to see his penis in person made Parker’s mind spin. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why that was, but now he had to grapple with that fact with the eager-eyed woman sitting on the other side of the couch from him. “Jessica, what…?”

“Oh, I forgot, you probably didn’t watch. There were some shots that made your penis look amazing, so I’d say Irene’s reaction is understandable.”

That wasn’t what Parker was trying to ask Jessica in the slightest, nor did he really understand Jessica’s explanation of Irene’s reaction, so he ended up just saying, “No, I—I’m, I’m not—I mean, I literally just met you, why would you want to go there already?”

Irene furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do I need to know someone for a while to see their dick?” Was she being serious? Either Irene was the best actress in the world, or she actually didn’t see an issue with her proposal. “I mean, people have one-night stands all the time, don’t they?”

“I mean—” Parker had to admit Irene had a point. But still … his brain was starting to hurt. It really was too much, trying to keep up with two Jessicas at the same time. “—no, I guess, but…”

“…But what? Did you want to see my tits first? I mean, they aren’t anything too impressive, especially compared to Jessica, but—” Parker stopped Irene as she moved to throw her short off.

“No! That wasn’t what I was trying to say. It’s just … I thought you came here to hang out with Jessica?”

“Um … I thought she invited me over to introduce me to you.” It was only then that Parker remembered Jessica mentioning introducing a childhood friend to him a week ago.

“Ah, right…” Thinking back on it, Jessica’s description of her at the time matched Irene pretty well: her figure wasn’t the best, but she was insanely beautiful. Parker just wished Jessica had given him a better heads up as to what kind of a person she was. Then again, she was Jessica’s friend. “…but that wasn’t the impression I got from Jessica.”

“…whoops, forgot to tell you?”

Parker rolled his eyes and sighed. “Well, now that you’ve introduced us…”

A brief silence followed in which the two ladies exchanged glances. Whatever telepathy that transpired between the two, the result was Irene saying, “I guess Jessica didn’t tell you much about me.”

Parker shook his head. “Sorry, not really.”

“Well, basically, all you need to know is that I have a breeding kink.” Again, Parker was caught off guard, letting out a hacking cough. “I came here because I want you to pump me so full of cum, my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby.”

That was a hell of a proposal, but what was Parker even supposed to do with it? Sure, Irene was definitely attractive enough to elicit a positive desire to acquiesce with that demand, but first off, why him, specifically? Was it because of that porno? The way she worded it … ‘my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby’ … Parker didn’t want to pry, but it almost sounded like Irene had tried multiple times before and had failed just as many times. But why would he have any better of a shot than all the other presumed guys she’s had in the past?

He felt like Irene was burdening him with a task, and the expectant way she was looking at him reinforced that.

“Ordinarily, I would want proof that you were tested recently for STIs, but since Jessica vouched for you, that’s not necessary. I have my own STI test report from last week in case you wanted to see it for yourself.” Irene handed him a bundle of papers that Parker briefly looked at—not that he was that interested in them, more so because he was so perplexed that looking at the bundle of papers placed in his hand was a reflexive action to being handed them. “Also, if you do manage to impregnate me, I promise to not burden you with child support. I can sign a contract if you’d like. I have one here,” she said, procuring another bundle of papers from her purse.

“Um…” Parker was overwhelmed, and this time, it wasn’t because of her eccentricity. It was almost like a business transaction, except it was one of those too-good-to-be-true proposals that had to be a scam. But if it was, where was the detriment to himself? This was Jessica’s friend, after all: would she try to scam a friend of her friend?

All this preparation reinforced his theory that Irene had done this with multiple other men, but aside from that, Parker didn’t know what else to think. Irene certainly seemed determined, even if she had said everything with the same jovial expression on her face. Thinking about the amount of times Irene must’ve tried and failed to become impregnated made him feel bad for her, even if he didn’t know why it was that Irene so badly wanted a child. But the question remained: why did he have to be the next one to try to knock her up?

“Come on, Parker—Irene’s giving you a free pass to fuck her until you’ve emptied your balls inside her. When’s the next opportunity to fuck someone like Irene without worrying about any consequences going to come up?”

Parker didn’t want to admit that Jessica had a point, but first… “Just to make sure—you aren’t in a relationship, right?” Irene shook her head. There was one concern gone, but with that, another arose. “Then … I’m sorry if this is insensitive, but do you mind telling me why you want a baby so badly?”

“Well, they’re so cute, aren’t they? Ever since I was little, I’ve loved kids, but guys don’t really like me, so I decided I’ll just raise one myself.” Parker didn’t believe Irene in the slightest when she said that guys didn’t like her, but there had to be a basis for that. What that was wasn’t Parker’s business to determine. In the corner of his eyes, he could also see Jessica shift uncomfortably a little, but he didn’t want to try to read into things. “Having sex with a bunch of different kinds of people is just a bonus. I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with someone as huge as you, though.”

Parker almost felt like he had to accept Irene’s proposal, which was weird because no man in his right mind would reject a chance to have sex with her. If they had met at a bar and Irene proposed to go back to his place, they might’ve had a one-night stand even if he didn’t know her ultimate goal with the sex. But… “So … you brought Irene over to have sex with me?”

“…Yeah?”

Sometimes, Parker wished he could dive into Jessica’s head to figure out why she didn’t find it weird that she did this. If Parker had a nickel every time Jessica brought over a friend with the explicit purpose of getting the two of them to have sex, Parker would have two nickels, which wasn’t that many nickels but it was weird it happened twice. Or maybe it wasn’t weird, considering this was Jessica. Did this mean he could anticipate Jessica doing this more in the future? If he and Tiffany became a couple, what would that say about him as a boyfriend, even if Tiffany stated she was fine with being in an open relationship? At least right now, he and Tiffany weren’t an item, but if they ever did, could he, in good conscience, do this?

“You gotta stop pimping me out.”

“Well, think about it like this: you get to fuck a bunch of hot women, and my friends get to experience your cock. It’s a win-win!”

“So, is that a no then?”

At the point they were in, needing to talk about being exclusive to each other was implied, but with what Jessica said … of all people, Jessica, the best friend of the woman he was seeing, who so woefully begged Parker to take care of Tiffany well, telling him Tiffany said that it was fine for him to have sex with other women … and to top it all off, as much as Parker tried to stave off the feeling, he could feel himself getting turned on ever so slightly. Was he bad for feeling this way? It felt wrong in so many ways, but when such an amazingly attractive woman was pushing herself onto him like this, wasn’t feeling turned on natural? No, a man with principles would be able to turn her away. But, then again, a man of principles might also claim that it was a man’s duty to acquiesce to the demands of a woman in need, and Irene was presenting herself to him as exactly that. “Well, first of all, let’s move.”

Just as he moved to stand up, Irene pushed him back down onto the couch. “Nope. I’m way too horny now. Do you mind?” Irene asked, her fingers looping around his pants.

“Wha—um—” Not that he wasn’t used to very forward women, but the eagerness with which Irene situated herself between his legs stunned him for a second. “—n-no, I guess?”

Off came his pants and boxers, and out came his mostly-limp dick. “Ooh, wow…” Irene’s dainty fingers brushed against his member. Parker felt his lower half tense up, his dick twitching at the soft sensations of her fingers wrapping around his shaft. “You’re not even hard yet, huh?”

Shit. Parker wasn’t mentally prepared yet, so, scrambling to answer, he stammered out a, “not really.”

“Hmm…” Irene’s fingers wrapped more tightly around him. With each firm tug and jerk, the soft reproductive organ grew more and more erect. “It’s so beautiful, too…”

Parker blinked, then let out a chuckle. “What?”

“Isn’t it?”

Irene turned to Jessica, who nodded in response. “It is!”

“What…” the question died in his throat. Not that he’s seen many other penises, but Parker figured his was pretty average, appearance-wise. What about it was aesthetically pleasing? He knew he probably wasn’t going to get a very good answer though, so he let the question die in his throat.

“Wow, and it’s still getting bigger.”

Figuring it was pointless to continue ponder about the morality of the situation, Parker shifted his mind towards Irene. The slightly deeper breaths Parker was taking gradually turned into gasps and hisses, his erection hardening and growing with every stroke. “Mmm…”

The fact that Jessica was very avidly watching didn’t help at all. Parker shot her a glare, but she just responded with a confused expression, her drawn-together eyebrows asking him ‘what?’. He didn’t have high hopes that would drive Jessica away, but Irene didn’t even seem to mind. She continued stroking him, egging it on further by planting chaste kisses along its hardening length.

“You said it was … seven inches?”

“Yea—”

“Seven point five,” Jessica interjected.

Parker had felt it irrelevant to correct such a minute difference, but of course Jessica would know the precise measurement, and of course she would be the one to correct Irene.

“Oh, god … so this is what seven-point-five looks like, huh?” Irene said in marvel, staring at his now fully-erect penis.

“Yeah. How do you feel, finally seeing it in person now?”

Parker tried not to think about the implications of Jessica’s use of the word ‘finally’. He, for a brief moment, wondered if women talked about the porn they watched and if they used it, but knowing it was Jessica and a slightly smaller and less curvy Jessica, he realized it was pointless to even wonder about it. “It’s … amazing. I thought they must’ve spent some serious budget to make his cock look so mouth-wateringly appealing, but now I realize the camera didn’t do it justice.”

“This is so weird.”

“Hm? What is?”

Parker could only gape at the clueless Irene. “Wha-What? What isn’t?”

“Oh, I guess you would want me to at least do this shirtless, huh?”

“That’s not—” Parker’s interjection fell upon deaf ears, Irene proceeding to throw off her shirt and revealing her breasts. The loose top she wore hid how well-developed they actually were, but they still probably couldn’t fill Parker’s palm. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them, though: with its even paler, milky white color tightly stretching across her chest, each mound decorated with a golf-ball sized, light-brown areola with two equally squeezable-looking nubs sitting in the center, they were as pleasant a sight to look at as the rest of her. “—what I meant in the slightest, but ok.”

“Hm? What did you mean, then?”

“I mean, Jessica’s right there.”

“So?”

Parker shook his head. He should know better than to try to appeal to common sense with a Jessica. “Never mind.”

Irene gave him a smile, giving his shaft a few more firm pumps before saying, “You’re funny,” then swallowing his tip whole in one swift motion.

“Agh—” Irene didn’t stop until she was halfway down his length, and by then, he could feel her throat tightening around his cock. “—ah, Irene—”

Irene, on the other hand, had placed hands on either side of his inner thigh to stabilize herself, unable to respond except with a few gagging noises. Tears started welling up in her eyes the further she went down, suppressing her gag reflex when it reached deep enough. It felt like it would never stop, not that Irene wanted it to; she felt like she had completely unhinged her jaw, her nose almost pressing against his shaft. Being that she could only breathe from her nostrils, with every intake of air she took in, accompanying it was the musky smell of Parker’s cock, and that invigorated Irene even more. With how much space Parker was occupying her mouth, her tongue had no choice but to be firmly pressed against the underside of his dick, haplessly drooling all over it. She tried to pay as much attention to his balls while doing so, but the truth was, at some point, both Irene’s mind and her throat had become completely occupied with Parker’s penis.

“Ah, shit.”

“Wow, look at her go…”

Irene barley registered the fighting words of her friend, taking a few moments to steel herself before beginning to bob her head against his length. Another swear flew out Parker’s mouth at the feeling of her velvety tongue expertly gliding and coiling along his length, her throat flexing and tightening against his member like it was made to house him. However, if that was indeed the case, then the housing was grossly undersized: Irene still had a third left to go before she could claim to have taken in his entire dick with her mouth.

Part of Irene began to wonder how he’d fit inside her pussy. How far would he reach, how would it feel to have him cum that deep inside her? Irene’s pussy ached, translated in the increased vigor of her deepthroating of Parker.

“Irene, holy shit—”

Parker was doing everything in his power to keep her hands off her hair. While Irene’s impressive blowjob-turned-deepthroating felt amazing, and while she sank a bit deeper with each bobbing motion, having the little bit unattended left something to be desired. Even if she talked and acted like Jessica, it didn’t mean she wanted to be treated like her, nor did it mean he even felt comfortable doing so. The fact that, in watching her and experiencing what Irene was doing to him, he felt inclined to shove her face until her nose touched his crotch made him wonder if Jessica had become too much of a negative influence on him.

Like clockwork, as soon as Parker felt sufficiently warmed up to want to reciprocate, Irene came up for air.

“Wow, you almost got all of it by the end there.”

“Really?” Irene wiped the drool coming out of the corner of her mouth, but even as she did so, she looked insanely beautiful. It wasn’t the same pure-innocent beauty as from before: this time, it was more so a femme fatale kind of beauty, one that made you realize she was dangerous but in all the ways you didn’t care about.

“Yeah, you had like an inch to go, it looked like.”

“Hm…” Irene looked up at Parker with a grin. “Maybe next time, I’ll go for all of it.”

“…Right.”

Irene giggled at Parker’s confounded reaction. “How was my throat?”

“It felt…” Was it normal to ask the question so giddily? “…uh, it was good…?”

“Why do you never tell me that?”

“Well,” Irene said, ignoring her friend and climbing onto Parker’s lap, shooting a dazzling, seductive smile at him, “wait until you feel my pussy.” It should’ve hardly been a surprise that Irene talked this way, but it still caught Parker a bit by surprise. By the time he had processed it fully, Irene was already aligning his cock with her entrance. “Ready?”

“This is … shouldn’t it normally be me who’s asking you?”

“Oh, you won’t have to ask me if I’m ready.”

The next sound to come out of Parker’s mouth was a surprised moan, the feeling of Irene’s blazing hot sex wrapping around his cock overriding his ability to speak.

“Mmm…”

Irene had her eyes closed, a mixture of a bliss and lust on her face as she lowered herself onto him at an astonishingly quick pace—quicker than Jessica their first few times, if he remembered correctly. “Ah, Irene—”

“Wow, fuck you’re big…”

More than halfway down, Irene started to slow down, electing to rotate her hips and slowly grind her way down his shaft. It felt incredible, alright: the intense tightness with which her pussy squeezed his cock, the wetness that counteracted any resistance the tightness offered, the warmth, the way her pussy walls seemed to be massaging his shaft … but the fact that Jessica was right there, and he was inside a woman he didn’t even know an hour before lingered in the back of his mind. Irene didn’t seem affected at all, but it stuck in Parker’s mind: was this normal? It couldn’t be, right?

Who was he kidding, of course it wasn’t normal. Even one-night stands, picking up chicks from bars or meeting from Tinder or the like involved getting to know someone at least somewhat before getting to the sex. For Parker, he had been made aware of Irene’s existence for only a few minutes before his cock was already two-thirds of the way inside her. How much his sense of what’s normal dulled since he started spending time around Jessica … Parker didn’t even want to think about it.

“Wa-Wait, Irene…”

He could tell Irene was going considerably slower, and if she was in pain, she was doing an immaculate job of hiding it. The intensity her pussy was squeezing his cock, however, was teetering on the line of pleasure and pain. However, perhaps it was due to some kind of pride, or maybe it didn’t feel painful to her, or maybe it even was Irene wanting to brag about being able to take his entire length in one go to Jessica, but she didn’t stop.

“Hmm … mmm…”

The low rumble of Irene’s husky voice was a nice distraction to the burgeoning pain on his cock, but Parker still had to grit his teeth to endure it.

“Irene, please…”

Parker had hardly ever begged for anything in his life. Maybe there were some times when he was a kid, begging his parents to let him finish the gym battle in the Pokémon game he was playing or begging his parents for ice cream on a hot summer day, but his parents otherwise treated him well. His first couple of sexual encounters with Jessica was what broke his streak of not needing to beg for anything, but ever since she told him about her competition with Hunter, the need to do that vanished.

At this moment, that need reemerged.

“Too … it’s too tight…”

The plea seemed to translate into a compliment to Irene’s ears, though. “Yeah? You like how tight my pussy is?”

It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good at all, but a combination of things distracted Parker from the pleasure aside from the pain—namely, self-consciousness from the knowledge that Jessica was watching them and the fact that he and Irene were essentially strangers. Asking Jessica to leave wasn’t going to actually make her leave, and addressing the fact that he met Irene only minutes before didn’t seem like it’d affect Irene, so the only thing he could point out was the thing she was bragging to him about.

“N—Irene, slower, please…”

“Hm?" Parker’s hands cupped her cheeks and pushed upwards. “Oh!” Jessica let out a giggle as Parker lifted her up enough that the pain mostly subsided.

“You’re too eager, Rene.”

“Sorry…”

Irene shared a sheepish smile with Parker, who just shook his head at it. “Just, more slowly, ok?”

Irene nodded, and it was only after that when Parker realized what he had said: or rather, how casually he said it.

Being around Jessica really was messing with his capability to withstand a level of bullshit a normal person shouldn’t. Then again, a normal person would probably be willing to withstand more bullshit for the chance to have sex with Irene.

“Righty-do.” Parker blinked a few times, a bemused smile starting to play at his lips. “But you have to control the pacing this time, ok? Because I can’t promise I won’t do the same thing if you don’t.”

“Uh, right.”

When they resumed, Irene’s eyes fluttered shut. Her lips parted again, something Parker couldn’t help but look at: of all the beautiful features perfectly placed on her face, her lips had to be the most alluring. Even when slightly parted, or perhaps even more so when they were slightly parted, they seemed to naturally form a pout.

He wasn’t dating Tiffany yet. Plus, according to her best friend, she was even fine with an open relationship. And said best friend, who seemed to be invested in the relationship between the two, introduced Irene to Parker for this exact purpose. This wasn’t cheating. He shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to lean forward and capture Irene’s perfect, kissable lips.

“Shit.”

“Ooh yeah, fuck…”

Irene, perhaps interpreting Parker’s frustrated groan as one of pleasure, responded in kind, gently biting the corner of her lower lip and throwing her head back.

Having sex with Jessica was one thing, but having sex with another woman, even if she was Jessica in another body … Parker couldn’t rid himself of the thought that he was betraying Tiffany, somehow.

“Deeper, babe…”

“…Shit.”

Tiffany didn’t seem the least bit phased when Jessica was riding him; in fact, she seemed intrigued more than anything. But then again, that was before they started seeing each other. Maybe now it would be different.

Was he thinking about this too deeply?

“Parker…?” Irene turned around, her eyes landing on the conflicted, downcast gaze of the man whose cock was inside her.

“Damn it. Jessica, are you really sure about Tiffany?”

“Oh, wait, Parker’s the guy Fany’s been seeing recently, right?” Jessica nodded. “In that case, we should probably send her some pic—” she abruptly cut herself off upon seeing Jessica hastily motioning for her to stop.

What? Was this some kind of extreme teasing? Did Irene hate Tiffany or something? Why would she propose such a thing? But, most of all, why wasn’t Jessica reprimanding Irene for suggesting them to do such a thing for what seemed to be their mutual friend?

“I was going to let Tiff tell him!”

“Oh! Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Ok—” Parker lifted Irene off his lap and set her down next to him. It was definitely strange, preparing to dive into a serious topic with his erection out for all to see, but this seemed too important to pass up. “—what? What kinds of pictures were you going to send her?”

“Um, sorry Parker, I need to ask her something first.”

“Just to be clear, were you talking about pictures of … of … this?” Parker didn’t intend to raise his voice, but he felt as though he had been deceived into playing some kind of cruel prank on Tiffany. Irene seemed so nice, so likeable, and so genuine, too.

“I can tell you what Irene meant by that, but first I need Tiff’s—” Jessica’s voice trailed off a little, her eyes darting back to her phone notifying her of a text message. “—um, Tiff’s permission.”

After finally blowing up on Jessica about what they had been doing behind Hunter’s back after nearly being caught by him on his balcony, Parker figured Jessica needn’t hide much else from him. Jessica, too, seemed glad to be cleared of that misunderstanding … but where did Tiffany play a part in this?

“Give me a little…”

Irene sat idly next to Parker, a clearly guilty expression on her face. That wasn’t the face of someone who wanted to do something mean to Tiffany. Or did she just look that way because she had been caught?

“…ok, I got her permission. You know how I told you Tiffany was fine with an open relationship, but didn’t elaborate?” Parker hesitantly nodded. He didn’t want to antagonize Jessica, nor Irene, too quickly, so he made sure to reign in any kind of animosity that was starting to form within himself. “Well, I figured Tiffany wanted to be the one to tell you, but now the cat’s out of the bag, and now that I got her permission, I’ll let you know. I actually do know why Tiffany’s fine with an open relationship: it’s because she’s … how should I put this, a voyeur?” Parker didn’t even know how to interpret that. “Hm … no…” but what did that have to do with anything? “…well, the bottom line is, she finds the idea of another woman fucking her man hot.”

Parker’s first reaction was to scoff at that. “What?”

“I know! It’s always the purest, most innocent ones that are the freakiest, huh?” In Parker’s eyes, Jessica had no grounds to say such a thing, but … looking into her eyes, there didn’t seem to be a hint of deceit. Not that he knew her well enough to be able to detect it. “Why do you think she asked me to watch that porno we shot?”

Shit … well, that did explain that one thing, given it was true.

“But…”

“I can show you what I just texted her if you want proof.” It felt like a violation of privacy of the woman he was seeing, but his curiosity got the better of him. He nodded, leaning forward, Jessica turning her phone’s screen toward him. Sure enough, the text exchange was with Tiffany, and Jessica was explicitly asking permission to tell him about that aspect about herself. What probably took Jessica a bit to inform him was the little bit of hesitation Tiffany showed, but when Jessica promised some pictures and videos of him fucking Irene, Tiffany buckled.

“Do … you have a single normal friend?!”

Jessica burst into laughter. “That’s rude! Aren’t you pretty much dating her?”

Parker groaned. On the side, he could hear the faint chuckles of Irene. “I mean…” he didn’t mean it like that. It was just a guttural reaction he couldn’t contain … but wasn’t it pretty normal? Actually, he shouldn’t justify that outburst like that. Admittedly, it was pretty awful of him to say such a thing about a woman he was seeing, but … well, at the very least, this was something he did not see coming. And he wondered why Tiffany was friends with Jessica; turns out, they maybe had more in common than he initially thought. “…yeah, but … wait, are you actually gonna send pictures to her?”

“Well, I promised, so … unless you’re unwilling?”

Parker almost laughed at that. Leave it to Jessica to just assume he was on board with such a ridiculous proposal. If it was something the woman he was seeing wanted … should he deny her? It wasn’t even like the idea that Tiffany was a cuck of sorts turned him off from her; maybe it was Jessica’s influence on him, but he saw it as nothing more than a quirk, albeit a pretty extreme one.

“Irene…?”

“Um…” Irene’s downtrodden gaze alerted Parker that she still felt bad despite things having been cleared up.

“It’s—” it was only then Parker remembered his dick was out, which he began to move to cover but stopped halfway. “—uh, it’s fine.”

“So … then, are you also ok with the pictures?”

Parker sighed. When did his life become so weird? “Yeah, I guess.”

At that, Irene’s eyes lit up. “Great!” Actually, maybe Parker was the weird one. Maybe his preference for missionary, and at most, doggy, made him the odd-man-out. “Then…” Irene sprung off the couch and repositioned herself in his lap, her hands resting on his knees while her ass hovered inches over his softening erection. Parker tentatively put his hands on her plump cheeks, spreading them out to see her still-glistening pink folds, drooling at the prospect of being torn open again by his cock. “…go ahead. Make me scream with that dick.”

Next part here.

[rapunzelbro]

The Act of Stealing a Loved One |2| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

This chapter is a flashback. So are the others. Enjoy! It's super long lmao

Story Guide

It was the Summer of 1972 when you first met Stanford. You remember it almost all too well. You went to a college for the arts, majoring in music composition. Oh! And you were in a band! It was not good by any means, you all were figuring this out as you went but you were all having fun so it didn’t really matter to you. It’s kinda funny looking back on how the two of you somehow became a couple considering how different the two of you were.

You two only met after you accidentally stumbled in his room one night after you partied too hard at someone else's dorm. You thought his room was your friend's room. His dorm had books scattered around, posters of some scientists on the wall and an absolute mess of notes on his desk. Stanford did not want to spend his night with some random drunk girl in his dorm, but he knew he had to let you in, not trusting what any of the other men on the campus would do if they saw you like this. He didn’t know why you made him so flustered, maybe it was your vulnerable state, or just because you were a girl, talking to him.

It was probably both.

“You know, I never wanted to go to this, it was some promotional stuff for my band. Did I tell you I was in a band? We are amazing!” You were laying on the floor staring at the ceiling smiling goofily, flipping onto your stomach to look at the flustered man whose dorm you broke into. He took a glance over his shoulder to look at you, trying to tell you he was listening, even if you didnt care if he was or not. “Okay so that might be a lie, Gabs is super pitchy, Jamie is still figuring out the drums but that's besides the point..I met you by going to this!” you finally sat up running a hand through your hair “You're so dorky it's kinda cute” you let off a soft giggle pointing at him.

This made Stanford physically freeze, his breath hitching slightly “Thank you I suppose, Are your friends looking for you?” He quickly changed the subject, turning around in his chair, looking at you “I think, I dunno… I kinda wanna stay here with you” you smirked. “Well I-” he started before he heard a female voice yelling in the hallway “Y/N! We gotta go!” “Oh that's Gabs! She’s my friend!” You stumbled up before heading towards the door, pausing before going back over to the man kissing his check with a giggle, causing Stanford's face to turn bright red “Thank you for saving me! I’m Y/n by the way!” “Um… It's Stanford, Call me Ford..” he managed to get out, quickly writing the phone number to the telephone that was in his room, down on a piece of notebook paper. “Just.. Call me when you get to your dorm safe..” he quickly turned back to face his textbooks he had his nose buried in hours ago “Aw you care about me… Okay loverboy. Seeya around!” you poked his shoulder before leaving, yelling at your friend ‘Gabs’ to get her attention

Ford had no idea why he did that, he never had the balls to do this sort of thing. Especially with someone as beauti- No why the hell was he having these thoughts? You weren't going to call him. He has to forget about this encounter, he concluded, going back to his uneventful night.

He got a call the next day, it was you. There was some sort of music in the background, he couldn't place what it was, some pop music maybe. “Oh my gosh is this Ford? I kinda crashed at your dorm last night, I am sooo sorry I am super embarrassed.” you rambled on before Ford let off a slight chuckle “No it's fine. I’m glad you're safe, you seemed very out of it last night” he leaned back in his chair slightly as he spoke “Ugh don't get me started about the hangover” you groaned causing him to laugh.

After that was the beginning of a relationship, you spent your off time together, he helped you with classes and you expanded his music taste, well tried to at least.

It's been 4 months since you two started dating. Ford even told his brother about this, and to say Stanley was shocked was an understatement, he rushed over surprising Ford “So you finally found a girl who doesn’t run off screaming? Tell me all about her” Stanley smirked looking at his twin brother, noticing a photo of you on his desk in a frame, you had a microphone in your hand giving a peace sign to the camera with your other hand. How the hell did his brother score you? Ford went off to ramble about you, he was a love sick mess, but the way his eyes kept shifting to the photo of you when explaining you made Stan confused, why did he have to keep looking at it to talk about you?

He noticed a few flyers to some music festivals, they looked untouched. “Who gave you these?” he picked one up, the show was for tonight, in a few hours. “Oh Y/n did. She’s in a band” Ford looked at the flier before directing his attention back to the textbook that was in front of him “You plan on seeing her right?” Stan raised an eyebrow looking at his brother “Too busy, I have an exam tomorrow” Ford shrugged it off flipping to the next page in his book “You’re joking right? Have you been to any of her shows?” Stan narrowed his eyes in disapproval, Ford didn't say anything “Some boyfriend you are” He muttered looking down at the flier in his hands. He knew what he had to do, he wasn’t going to let Ford ruin the only potential relationship he would probably ever have.

Taglist: @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 3

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: a couple weeks go by and you’ve been hanging out with evan daily. you’re starting to let your guard down when a guy in one of your classes approaches and asks for help in class. evan sees this, and can’t help the jealousy that builds inside of him.

word count: 2.8k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: this chapter got away from me, this was so fun to write and i really love how it turned out! from this chapter on there’s a lot of them running into each other on campus which i know is unrealistic but just ignore it! enjoy<3

warnings: lack of experience!reader, slowburn?? slight enemies to lovers???, jealous!buck, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You hang out with Evan everyday for the next two weeks in the library, trying to get the assignment mostly done before either of your classes pile up too much. Each time you spend time with him, you can’t help but open up a little bit more. You can’t help it; he’s just so easy to talk to. You almost begin to think of him as a friend.

This isn’t lost on him either. He’s noticed how your attitude is slowly beginning to slip, and the way you give him that sweet little smile when he says something funny. It makes his insides turn in a way he hasn’t felt before, and everytime he sees your eyes crinkle paired with hearing your soft laugh, he’s sure he’d do just about anything to experience it again.

You’re sitting in the library yet again, at the same table that you sat at the first time you hung out with him. It’s become your unofficial meeting table, as the first person who arrives, mostly Evan, always saves it for the other.

You both have your laptops open, but your assignment is long forgotten. He’s in the middle of telling you a story of when his parents forced him to sign up for baseball at 8 years old, even after he had begged to be put in football instead. He tells you how he refused to participate, and his coach had to call his parents to pick him up in the middle of practice because not only was he refusing to play, he was also sitting in the middle of the field so no one else could play either. You’re laughing softly at his words, your brows raised in disbelief, when you feel a presence beside you. You notice Evan’s eyes trail up as he stops talking, and a frown makes its way onto his face. You turn in your seat and look up at the person beside you, smiling when you realize it’s a guy from your English class. Elijah, you think.

“Hey. Were you in class on Monday?” Elijah asks you as he stands a little too close for Evan’s liking. Elijah’s smile widens when he sees you nod, and continues. “Awesome. Could I get your notes? I have no idea what Professor Curran is talking about most of the time.” he tells you, pulling out the chair on the other side of you and sitting down, his body angled at you.

“Yeah, he can be a little hard to follow along with, but I’ve had him a few times, so I’ve learned to keep up with him most of the time.” you say, chuckling softly. You turn to your laptop and pull up your notes for that class as Evan rolls his eyes, very clearly annoyed that this guy is taking all your attention away from him. You don’t even notice, your focus now completely on helping Elijah out.

“Wait, really? Can you explain the Great Exhibition to me? I don’t get it.” Evan can’t help but scoff quietly and roll his eyes at this guy. He doesn’t understand the Great Exhibition? It was a big building of stuff, what’s so hard to understand? His eyes narrow as he notices the way the guy is looking at you, eyes trailing down your body as you look at your laptop screen, starting to explain the Great Exhibition happily. He’s clearly only over here because he thinks you’re attractive, and this doesn’t sit right with Evan.

“Could we maybe do this another time?” he asks, a hint of annoyance in his voice, despite his best efforts to hide the jealousy bubbling inside of him. He has a fake smile plastered on his face as he looks at you. He knows he really can’t do much about this guy, it’s not like you’re his, but he’s still gonna try.

“It’ll only take a second. I’m sure you can sit quietly for a few minutes.” you tease him softly, barely looking at him before your eyes move from your screen to Elijah, giving him an apologetic smile.

“I don’t know about that, princess. You’ve met me, haven’t you?” This earns a small laugh from you as you finally look over at him, giving him a sweet smile.

“Please?” you say, just above a whisper, your eyes silently pleading with him. You really are interested in the Great Exhibition, so you’re happy to take a break on your assignment and talk about it. He huffs, sinking into his chair, mumbling a defeated “fine” as he crosses his arms over his chest. You give him a wide smile before turning back to Elijah, continuing to talk about your class.

Evan sits quietly for a minute or two, shooting daggers at Elijah as he leans closer to you, taking the chance to look down at the cleavage you have peeking out of your top when your eyes are focused on the screen. God, you seem so oblivious to the way he’s looking at you, Evan thinks. It almost makes him sick to his stomach to think about you hanging out with this guy without him here.

It pushes Evan over the edge when you laugh at something stupid Elijah says and lean closer to him instinctively as you do so. Evan sits up straight, eyes narrowing even further at the man before leaning over to you and draping an arm around the back of your chair as he looks at your screen.

“You’re a good teacher, princess. Maybe you can teach me a few things too.” he says softly, a hint of suggestiveness in his voice. You finally look over at him, fighting back a smile as you catch his tone, momentarily forgetting about Elijah. This makes Evan smirk, his eyes glancing at the man as if to say “I win.”

“Are you really that interested in the Great Exhibition?” you tease softly, not believing for a second that he really cares about what you’re saying. Surely he’s just bored.

“Yeah, I love the Great Exhibition. The Crystal Palace, and all that. Fascinating.” he trails off, which makes you laugh softly. He notices the guy smirk as your chest moves when you laugh, and his eyes narrow for a moment before he continues, really wanting to show the man that you’re off limits. Even if you’re technically not his. He leans closer to you again, putting his other arm in front of you on the table, almost as if he’s trapping you between this arm and the one on the back of your chair, marking his territory. You bite the inside of your cheek softly as he moves, breath catching in your throat as you feel the heat radiating off of him.

He sees Elijah’s stare move between him and you for a moment before he clears his throat awkwardly, as if finally understanding that flirting with you so clearly around Evan may not be a good idea, and knowing that he has lost your attention.

“Well, I don’t wanna take up all your time. Maybe we could, uh, hang out after class next week? You could catch me up?” he tells you, which pulls you out of your thoughts of Evan. You let out a shaky breath and turn to Elijah, giving him a nod as you try to slow your racing heart at Evan’s closeness. Evan rolls his eyes at Elijah’s words, leaning back and squaring his shoulders, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he stares at the smaller man.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Or, there’s no lecture in our room before class, so we can just go a little early instead?” you say after a moment, smiling softly.

“I have a class right before ours. Maybe we could walk to the coffee shop off campus together after class instead?” Elijah asks you, licking his lips as his eyes glance down to your chest yet again. This man doesn’t know when to give up, Evan thinks, his mind clouded with jealousy.

“Yeah, that works.” you tell him, bringing your hands together on the table and fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“Awesome. See you then.” he replies smoothly, giving you a smirk as he gets up and walks away. You turn back to Evan after a second, being met with a twisted look on his face and his brows raised.

“What?” you ask, laughing softly at this look on his face. Your face grows hot as you turn to look back at your laptop, thinking about hanging out with Elijah next week.

“What? Is that guy serious?” he asks, annoyance laced in his voice. You turn back to Evan, raising a brow. Why does he seem so upset by this? You’re just helping him catch up on class.

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“He doesn’t understand the Great Exhibition? It’s not that hard to understand.” You sigh, shaking your head. He had a point, sure, but why else would he ask you to explain it to him?

“Well, not everyone’s as smart as you are.” you say, a hint of teasing in your voice as you give him a small smile, hoping to change the subject. He doesn’t look amused, though.

“I’m serious. He just wants to get you alone. How much do you wanna bet he’s not even busy before your class.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes. You scoff, shaking your head.

“I’m not talking to you about this. Let’s just work on our assignment.” There’s no way what Evan’s saying is true. And you really don’t want to talk to him about going out with another guy if it is. You turn back to your laptop, pulling back up your assignment document, getting ready to add to it.

“Would you go out with him if he asked?” he asks after a moment, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like the way you’re brushing him off. Jealousy builds inside of him as he imagines you going out with anyone other than him. You sigh, shutting your laptop, knowing he won’t drop it. After hanging out with him for two weeks straight, you know how stubborn he is.

“I don’t know, Evan. Why?” you say, defeated, straightening your back as you meet his eyes. You’re not really sure what else to say. It’s so out of the realm of possibility, you think, that you don’t even want to think about it.

“Just curious.” He shrugs slightly, pursing his lips. He knows he can’t do much because you’re not his, and he doesn’t wanna be that guy. But God, he doesn’t want you going out with that douchebag.

You duck your head slightly, trying to meet his eyes as you see his eyes look away, but you feel like he’s shutting down. You sigh softly and turn back to your laptop, opening it yet again to continue working. Is he jealous? You can’t tell. This is so far out of your expertise that you’re really not sure what to do other than ignore it.

You hang out for a few more hours and he seems to lighten up as you joke with him, and he feels himself forgetting about Elijah more and more each time you give him that sweet little smile. You close your laptop once you realize it’s almost time for your class, and he does the same, packing his bag up.

“Can I walk you to class?” he asks as he stands up and puts his bag over his shoulder. You nod, zipping up your bag. He picks up your bag once you're done and you furrow your brows, looking at the bag outstretched in front of him. Your eyes soften as he holds your backpack straps up, waiting for you to put your arms through, and you look down, fighting back a smile as you turn and put your arms through the straps. You feel his fingers touching you as he slides the straps up your arms, shivering softly as you feel his breath hitting your exposed skin. You take a step forward once your bag is in place, clearing your throat as you turn your head to look over your shoulder at him and thank him softly.

You walk side by side out of the library and across campus to your next lecture. As you’re walking, he finally speaks again in a soft voice.

“Would you really go out with him if he asked?” You look down, biting your lip softly, too nervous to look at him.

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly. You know he doesn’t make your stomach flip as much as Evan, but you’re also not sure how Evan feels about you. You don’t know if you’d necessarily turn him down, but if both Evan and Elijah somehow wanted you, you know who the clear winner is.

“I don’t want you to.” he tells you after a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t want to say too much; he doesn’t want to hold you back if you really want to go out with him, but he knows it’ll hurt him too much to see you with him, especially if he knows he could’ve said something and didn’t.

“Why?” you ask, your voice just above a whisper, keeping your eyes straight ahead. You’re too afraid to look. You’re scared he’ll be able to see the feelings you have for him if he looks into your eyes.

“I don’t know. I just don’t trust him. He was looking at you like a piece of meat.” You can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face as he says this. He may not necessarily be jealous, but you can’t help but pretend for a moment. You’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t see the look on Evan’s face. If you were to look over at him, you’d see the clear jealousy across his face, and the way his eyes are silently praying that you don’t go out with him as he stares straight ahead of you two.

“Okay.” you whisper after a moment. Once you make it to the building your class is in, he holds the door open for you. You bite you lip as you duck in, thanking him quietly.

“Okay, what?” His voice is full of hope as he watches you walk into the building, trying to keep his eyes off your ass as you pass him.

“I won’t go out with him. If he asks.” you say softly, licking your lips as you turn to look up at him walking through the door. A large smile breaks onto his face for a second, but it’s gone as soon as it appears, trying to act cool. He nods once, shoving his hands back into his pockets, but there’s still an excited look in his eyes.

“Good.” he finishes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so big before, not that he gives you long to study it. You smile to yourself as you turn back forward, walking the rest of the way to your lecture hall. You’re not exactly sure what this means, but you think he might actually feel the same way about you as you feel about him.

You turn to him once you get to the door, smiling up at him, your face still hot.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, and he nods, smirking down at you as he holds the lecture hall door open for you.

“Yeah, princess. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says smugly before nodding his head towards the door. “Go to class.” You nod, looking down as you walk under the arm that's holding the door and into the room. Once you’re a safe enough distance from the door you let out a long sigh, laughing softly to yourself.

Okay, maybe you will tell your roommate about him.

After your dreadfully long class, you finally make your way home, still trying to fight the way your stomach is twisting from your encounter with Evan.

You decide on the walk home that you’re going to make cookies. Ever since high school, when you feel any sort of strong emotions, you bake. You need something to put your energy into, and your roommate knows that. So, when she walks into your apartment later and sees you aggressively stirring cookie dough, she drops her bag and walks into the kitchen carefully, eyes glued to your back.

“What’s up?” she asks slowly, trying not to disturb you too much. Usually when you bake, you’re sad, so she’s careful in the way she speaks to you. She lets out a breath as you turn to her with a smile on your face, jumping slightly as your oven beeps, signalling that it’s at 350°.

“Nothing.” you trail off, and you can’t help the way your smile grows as she narrows her eyes, confusion on her face.

“So why are we baking?” she asks, the smile growing on her face as she takes in your expression. She can almost feel the excitement radiating off of you, and she can’t wait to hear what you have to say.

“There may be a, um, guy.” you start, waiting to see her reaction. She’s known you for a long time. She knows your lack of experience when it comes to guys, so she can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips and the wide grin that erupts on her face.

“Who?” she squeals, sitting down at the island stool, holding her head up in her hand as she watches you go back to stirring the cookie dough.

“His name’s Evan.” you start, beginning to explain how you met and how you’ve been hanging out every day for the last two weeks, working on an assignment. She squeals again, and seems to have an endless amount of questions, which you answer happily. It’s nice to finally talk about him, and most of the rest of the night is spent telling her everything about him. God, you’re screwed, you think. You’ve known this guy for two weeks and he has you acting like you’re 15.

next chapter

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[saffusthings]

chapter 4: sacred new beginnings

ceo!oscar piastri x reader

summary: the one where things begin to shift into place.

word count: 1.2k

three | four | five

She didn’t mean to linger after the meeting.

But Laura had stopped her just outside the conference room, raising a brow with a faint smile. “That arbitration point? Solid. You just saved Alex three days of unnecessary emails. Possibly a full breakdown.”

Y/N blinked. “That wasn’t my intention. But I’m… glad it worked?"

Laura looked at her a beat longer, then tipped her head toward the corridor. “Come on. You look like someone who could use a drink.”

Y/N followed, cautious but curious.

"A drink? But aren't we—"

"Coffee. Top shelf stuff when it's all you've got."

The break area wasn’t large, but it was quiet—tucked between glass partitions and lined with minimalist cabinetry. A kettle, mismatched mugs, a few communal snacks were scattered about the room. One man was stirring sugar into a chipped Manchester United mug like he’d been doing it every day for a decade.

“I think I’m breaking protocol by inviting you in here,” Laura said. “This is usually where we retreat to complain about our bosses and forget we’re licensed professionals.”

Y/N cracked a small smile. “You say that like I wouldn’t fit in.”

She made herself a cup of tea —strong and no sugar— and leaned back against the counter. She didn’t say much. But she listened. And when someone mentioned a client who’d once tried to cite The Crown as legal precedent, she deadpanned, “To be fair, it’s very persuasive television.”

It earned a genuine laugh from someone in the corner. Just one, but it was enough.

The next day, someone left her a sticky note that said ‘Very persuasive television’ is my new defense strategy. No name, just the note. 

But Y/N tucked it into the back of her notebook like it was a sign she could belong.

The legal department’s floor had the kind of quiet hum that masked a thousand frenzied thoughts – fingers tapping on keyboards, the low click of a printer spitting out a contract revision, someone sighing heavily into a mug of tea. Y/N liked it more than she expected.

Her desk was tucked near a window—good light, enough distance from the partners to breathe. She’d been at it for an hour, sorting through onboarding documents and scanning previous case notes, when a low voice startled her.

“Don’t let ‘em rope you into Thursday drinks. They never leave before midnight.”

She looked up.

It was Daniel, one of the mid-level associates. Tall, handsome yet always slightly disheveled, with a pen stuck behind his ear and a reputation for being the token personality hire in meetings.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know?”

He smirked, dropping a manila folder onto her desk. “Because I’ve made the mistake twice. You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys being peer-pressured into tequila by people who quote merger law for fun.”

Y/N tilted her head, smiling. “You’d be surprised. I’m a pretty quick learner.”

That got a laugh out of him, small and unexpected.

“Welcome to the floor,” he said warmly, and walked off before she could thank him.

Later, Laura passed her a compliance brief with a sticky note that just said, You missed nothing in the 11am call. Except Peter accidentally sharing his screen mid-Tinder swipe. Truly a legal milestone.

Y/N grinned and jotted a response: If he matched with in-house counsel from Ferrari, does that count as a conflict of interest?

The note came back five minutes later with a hastily sketched “YES” in red ink.

By the end of the day, she hadn’t exactly made friends—but something quieter had settled in. Recognition. Familiarity. Like people were beginning to know what to expect from her: precise language,  good humor, and a readiness to challenge someone if the logic didn’t track.

It wasn’t much. But slowly, the ice chipped.

In a restaurant in Mayfair filled with dark wood, warm light, soft jazz threaded through the air like silk.

Oscar sat at a corner table, posture relaxed but careful. He was always careful. A glass of red wine sat untouched before him, and he checked his watch, though not impatiently. Just… habit.

He was dressed well—crisp shirt, navy jacket, no tie. The whole getup was polished without being performative. He didn’t need to try to look expensive. It simply happened.

The maître d’ walked a woman to his table, and Oscar stood when she arrived.

Stevie was striking in that effortless, elegant way. She shrugged the long coat from her shoulders like water off glass, her long hair tucked neatly behind her ears. Her lipstick matched the soft curve of the wine glass she lifted from the server’s tray on instinct.

“Hi,” she said, smiling—wide, practiced. “Sorry I’m late.”

Oscar smiled too – not as polished. Warmer, smaller.

“I figured you’d show up eventually,” he said, pulling out her chair.

Stevie sat down, crossed her legs, adjusted her napkin. For a moment, they looked like any other beautiful couple out for a beautiful dinner. The waiter came and went. Orders were placed. She reached across the table to brush something off the cuff of his sleeve—a gesture so casual it felt lived-in.

And for a moment, it looked like the kind of life people envied.

But then, somewhere between the water being poured and the bread arriving, her hand drifted into her coat pocket.

She drew out a small ring with a simple band. It bore no large diamond, but one big enough to still be elegant and quiet, like a promise of something better to come.

After a moment’s hesitation, she placed it on the table between them., not with anger or ceremony. Just… placed it.

Oscar didn’t move.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said softly. Her tone was gentle, but not fragile. She wasn’t breaking. She was unraveling with precision. “About all of this. About us.”

His jaw tightened the barest fraction. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” she said. And she meant it. He could tell. “I do. But I’m not… I’m just not ready.”

There was a pause. 

“I thought I could be. I tried to be, I really did. But this… it’s not just you. It’s– It’s your whole life, Oscar, And I don’t think I can step into that, not without lying to both of us.”

She didn’t say what she really meant—not directly, at least. She didn’t say, I don’t want to be a mother, not like this. Or, I don’t want to come second to a child who doesn’t speak but still somehow is the most important thing in your life. She didn’t say, I don’t want the responsibility of someone else’s future when I’m just beginning to enjoy getting to build my own. 

But she didn’t have to.

Oscar’s expression didn’t change. If she wasn’t watching carefully, she would have missed the flicker of something behind his eyes, the tiny shift like a door closing soundlessly down the end of a long hallway.

Quietly, he reached out and picked up the ring, turning it over once in his hand like it had once meant something.

It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?

“I, uh, appreciate the honesty,” he said. His voice was low, steady. Not cold, exactly, but distant now, as if something had gone out like a light inside him.

She blinked, like she’d expected more of a reaction. 

Oscar could often come across detached or even stoic, but he usually made an effort not to be that way around her. She’d seen him smile and laugh for her, which was probably why the return of the seemingly unfeeling expression on the man sitting across from her surprised her. 

Perhaps she’d expected for this to take longer, to feel some kind of pull as she pulled herself away from this dance they’d done for so long.

“You’re not… angry?”

“No,” he said. “You’re allowed to want the life you want.”

She smiled at that, sad and with a twinge of almost gratitude. “You really are the kindest person I know.”

But she knew that wasn’t true – kindness would probably have begged her to stay.

Oscar just nodded. 

And when the check came, he paid for dinner anyway.

a/n: finally came back around to this series, decided to test out the waters a bit... what do we think?

[hellishjoel]

dark paradise 

5.2k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Your mind is flooded with the memories of your private time with Joel in his woodshed, but he hasn't reached out to you since the bonfire and it's been a week. You go next door to give him a piece of your mind.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), dbf/neighbor!joel, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, Joel being a horrible communicator and texter

A/N: I edited this 12+ times and kept changing stuff, so therefore there’s probably mistakes. There’s your one and only warning lol. I’m so excited you guys are eating up the first part (off to the races), I hope the next parts to come keep ya’ll entertained ;)

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved.  He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin.  “On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face.  “I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

Time seemed to slow after your interaction with Joel in his woodshed. The days following the bonfire were filled with excitement but quickly followed by dread and anxiety. It had been a week. 

No text, no calls, no anything.

It wasn’t that serious. It was just Joel. Besides, you had a vibrator to fill the void until he finally decided to reach out to you. Whenever that may be. 

Days one and two were the most riveting. Every time you thought of Joel, your heart raced a little faster. You didn’t have a long list of sexual endeavors, so this was still noteworthy. Giving head to your hot forty-year-old neighbor. You wondered what else would come from it. More importantly, when. 

Days three and four felt routine and mundane. After picking around your breakfast and staring out the window to Joel’s empty driveway, you would wander to your back porch to read a book on the dock. 

You were lucky to catch glimpses of Sarah. Her summer was busy with her friends from school and working a part-time job to afford having fun the summer before her senior year. If she was free, you guys would jump in the lake, sit on the dock together, tell stories, and catch up on everything that was happening in each other’s lives. Well, not everything.  

Days five and six were torture. Your vibrator had died from its excessive use, and your fingers weren’t cutting it. You wanted Joel, you needed Joel. You hated to admit it, especially since he hadn’t paid a singular ounce of attention to you since the bonfire last Saturday. Even worse, after deciding to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with your family during a movie night, you started thinking even the horse was kind of attractive. 

Day seven started with your room covered in a pale blue light. You didn’t know what time it was. You weren’t sure how much you slept, but you knew it was very little. This ache was pestering your insides, spreading a rot like an old tree log. Your mind couldn’t fade away from the way Joel felt inside your mouth, the way he filled your throat, and you breathed through the choke. Or the way he finished on your face and your tongue.  

Your well-painted memory of it all was already beginning to fade. The details weren’t as crisp, you wanted to remember every detail and hold on to it for as long as possible.  

That’s what you were trying to imagine at this ungodly early morning hour. The birds weren’t even chirping outside yet. Your fan slowly circled, trying to cool you off from the sticky Texas heat. You wished your windows weren’t jammed closed.

You heard a thud outside, your body alert as you swiftly sat up and peeked out the window. 

Despite it being a Saturday, you watched a tired and slow Joel walk out to his old pickup truck and toss a brown bag lunch inside. Where was he off to so early?

He was wearing his chunky worn-in work boots, splattered with drops of white paint stained into the leather by the steel toe. They were heavy with each step he took on his rickety wooden deck. His faded dark blue jeans sat snug on his hips with his wallet stuffed in the back pocket. His dark hair dashed with silver grays was still damp from his morning shower.  

You watched behind foggy glass as he patted down his jeans and mumbled something, swiftly turning on his heel and lightly jogging up his steps before disappearing inside again. 

Seeing him after a week of silence bubbled up a hint of anger and annoyance in you. It annoyed you that he looked so good. 

Your feet found their way onto cold hardwood before you could waste another second. You would give him a piece of your mind in fuzzy slippers and an oversized rusty-orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt that was so draped over you that it covered your black sleep shorts. 

You tiredly navigated your way out of your room quietly, not to wake your parents down the hall. You crossed your arms and hugged them to your body, the early morning chill hitting you once you were outside. You crossed your driveway to his truck, slowing once you reached his perched-down tailgate. Joel had resurged from his house with his truck keys in hand, his steps slowing once you two shared eye contact.

You’d be standing here all day if you expected Joel to speak first. 

“Hey.” 

He gave you a small nod, his eyes dropping to the shirt that reached the tops of your thighs before they managed their way back up to your face. “Mornin’.” 

He closed the gap between his porch steps and his tailgate, setting down his toolbelt and box in the bed. He looked rigid, tight in the shoulders and chest. His close proximity made you step a few paces back, the length of the tailgate separating you from Joel. 

You were afraid that if he stood too close, he might feel how badly you wanted him by radiation alone. Especially now, fresh out of the shower, half-wet curls plastered to his forehead, still smelling a little musky with his body wash.

You finally let out an aggravated sigh, hip landing against the tailgate with your arms still crossed. 

“So… where are you going this early on a Saturday?” Your face still held a slightly pinched expression though you tried to ask a casual question. 

Your curiosity made the left side of his mouth tick up in a lopsided little smirk. 

“You wanna tell me the real reason you came over here?” Joel’s tactics were ruthless. It made you feel small, young. But you weren’t, not anymore. 

You took in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes on his as your head fell to the side. Finally, the ticking time bomb inside you was counting down. All of your pent-up sexual frustration would be launched at this lumberjack of a man. 

“You haven’t texted me.” 

“Christ,” he muttered, annoyance passing over his face. “Sun’s not even up yet.” 

“Joel.” You pushed. 

“Haven’t texted you in a few years.” He said lamely. 

“I know, the last thing I have from you is asking me what you think my dad would like for a birthday present.”

“I value your input.” His teasing didn’t make you any less angry. Joel could tell. “I don’t text anyone much besides Sarah. ‘ts the only way I can get ahold of her. Don’t even remember I own a phone half the time.” 

“I know.” Your arms crossed tighter around your body. “But I have… needs.” Your voice awkwardly teetered as you evaded his eye contact.

“Needs? Do ya, now?” Joel’s accent came out swinging, his signature smirky-smile working in combination with his cocked up eyebrow. But your face held evidence of your disappointment. 

There’s a gentle lull. He should have texted you, and you shouldn’t be here telling him that. He knows. Or maybe you shouldn’t expect so much from a guy like Joel. No wedding ring, brooding, a bull with horns, Joel. Wouldn’t know it was his birthday without Sarah reminding him, Joel. Wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have to, Joel. Wouldn’t think to text his horny neighbor next door, Joel. 

“Didn’t text me either, sweetheart.” He points out, making your head snap up with wide doe eyes. Shit. He was right. 

You didn’t text him, either. You were just sort of expecting it out of him. You hoped he would lead the way, be the guide, reach out wanting more. But that wasn’t Joel. Were you both playing this devilish waiting game? You felt a little silly, your insides wrapping in knots as he surveyed you. 

“Well I-”

“You what?” 

He was the one grilling into you now. The sun began cresting over the water, bleaching your surroundings in a pale orange. The sun’s glare caused Joel’s eyes to squint slightly to block it out. 

You rolled your head to the side and wiggled around as you tried to stand still against his tailgate. Your frustrations were evident as you rubbed your crossed legs together. 

This wasn’t the same girl who took a leap of faith in his woodshed, who crossed the boundary between nothing to something, and set you and Joel up for a thrilling summer. You just wanted him to tell you that he wanted it too. To fuck around and do something different. Make this summer worth a damn. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted more.” You finally muster up, your voice smaller than you intended, shifty eyes looking over his. 

Your statement made him scoff, having to look away from you with a wicked smile. The orange luminescence of the sun warmed his otherwise cold face. He was amused, maybe even a little offended by your statement. 

“‘Course I want more.” He strained before pausing, his voice lowering as he took another step closer. “Look at you. Wearin’ my shirt.” He said before he towered over you, making the first point of contact as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you in closer, his fist clutching the worn-in orange t-shirt. 

You blinked a few times before looking down where he fisted the material. Shit. He was right again. 

Joel had given this to you the last summer you were in Danbury. You and Sarah took a late-night dip in the lake, and she wanted you to sleep over and watch a movie in the basement. You were too lazy to walk back home and change, so Joel gave you a towel and his Longhorns t-shirt.

You easily could have snagged a shirt from Sarah’s closet, but Joel caught you sneaking into his house and dripping water everywhere.

“Just take this. Go dry off. Get warmed up.” A statement laced with annoyance and precaution for his floors, but also attentive care. 

It was probably supposed to be just for the night, but you stole it. 

You remember that evening vividly. It was the first time you fantasized about Joel. Because the shirt wrapped you up and smelled of his musk and deodorant. It brought on a certain warm fuzziness in your tummy. The shirt had been incorporated so much in your wardrobe these last two years or so, you had forgotten its origin. But it was Joel’s.

And now you were standing here in front of him, his shirt draped over your body like an oversized blanket, showing the curves of your tits. He was fantasizing about you too. Fucking you while wearing his shirt.

There was an undeniable tension that now settled between the two of you, one you surely couldn’t satisfy in his driveway. But that didn’t mean Joel didn’t feel the same way. 

His hold on your hip tightened, your lips parting in surprise as his other hand came to your waist and hoisted you up onto the tailgate of his truck. 

He was hot, possessive of your body wrapped in his shirt. 

“Does it look like I don’t want you?” Joel’s voice was husky, lust filled. You liked getting this sort of reaction out of him. His question caused an ache in you, white heat pooling in the base of your stomach. 

Your neediness for him returned. Addicted to his touch, you felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through your body. Joel parted your legs with his body by standing between them, your little fists gripping his large biceps as you tried to regain your bearings. He was so big and burly, wide set shoulders, and a toned chest. You wanted to see him shirtless, examine his body when your time together wasn’t so limited. 

“Joel,” his name dripped off your lips with desperation, sweet like honey. He knew how you said his name when you wanted him. It brought back vivid memories of you kneeling in front of him in his woodshed.

Comfort brought you back, knowing it was safe to lean in and start kissing his stubbled neck. You didn’t want to kiss his lips, it still felt too intimate. Joel picked up on your hesitations and silently obeyed. 

Once you got to the base of his neck by the collar of his shirt, he let out a surprisingly loud grunt that he tried to jam down into silence but had failed. It caught you off guard, the ways he displayed his pleasure.

You moved back in, eager to duplicate the noise as you paid special attention to his sweet spot. You suckled and glided your teeth over the pinpoint before he forced himself away. 

“Keep it below the collar, sweetheart.” His twangy southern drawl was drenched in pleasure.

You smirked as you tugged at the collar gently with your teeth, letting it go and seeing it snap back into place around his tan neck. 

His lips found the crook of your jawline, his lips brushing your earlobe as he took it between his teeth and gently nibbled. The sensation struck a nerve down your center, a weak whine echoing against the collar of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet. 

The air had warmed up with the sun’s presence, the birds starting to chirp. Your parents could wake up any minute now, being the early risers they were. 

You pulled away to gauge his reaction. Joel was looking between you and the horizon carefully. He was debating. You both had so little time. 

“Your parents.” He pointed out, his voice ridged with pain as he planted his body between yours, his large palms splayed on your lower back and upper thigh with his fingers ghosting your sleep shorts.

“Work.” You reminded, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, fingers delicately brushing over the faded Miller Contracting logo on his breast pocket. 

You’re compelled to tell him that you need him. Because you do. You need him terribly. 

There was a silence, a deliberation of the masses. Stop while you’re ahead, at least you and Joel realized you were on the same page about wanting more. You could let him go, you should let him go. Meet up another time when it was less risky. 

“You’re not pulling away.” Your whisper broke his thoughts. Your long lashes fluttered, and your eyes were filled with an eagerness only Joel could satisfy. 

He rolled his head around, jaw tight before shaking his head. 

“Well, you have needs.” His words were filled with grit, promise. Be quick. 

Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling the planes of his back under your small palms. Both of Joel’s big hands moved under your t-shirt, your lips parting at the feeling of his calloused and rough hands traversing your soft body. He liked how soft you were, you could tell by the way he was delicately exploring you with his lips plastered on your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whisper, grinding your hips against his desperately while one of your hands wound into the damp curls at the base of his neck. He could use a haircut soon, the longer strands winding around your fingers.

His body loomed so much over you that you were arching your spine, your legs desperately wrapping loose around his waist until he had sufficiently guided you onto your back. 

Suddenly his presence lifted. You didn’t realize you were seeing stars until he pulled away. He had way too much of an effect on you. 

“Don’t have time to fuck you right, pretty girl.” His words made you puff out a desperate sigh. 

“But-” 

“But you have needs.” He finished for you, your head feverishly nodding. The truck bed had odd ribs, half your back raised up an inch while your other half was on a little slant. It was uncomfortable to lay your head down on. Once Joel was tugging down your sleep shorts, you were quick to forget the discomfort. 

A heavy breath left you as Joel tossed your shorts over his tool belt in the truck bed beside you, feeling him pull your body closer to the edge of the truck bed with your legs pried open for him. 

Your eyes widened as he sunk to the ground, jaw dropping as your eyes looked to the sky. Holy shit.

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved. 

He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin. 

“On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face. 

“I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch. 

You wished every second with him right now wasn’t fleeting. You wished he could take his time. But the both of you were so wound up anyway, you were happy just to have him be a guest between your legs. 

Joel’s beard stubble tickled your thighs, his warm lips leaving a wet trail to your cotton underwear. Your hands needed to stay busy, one planting itself against one of the ribs of the truck bed and the other fisting his toolbelt that adorned a Carhartt patch. 

Joel’s mouth was absent for a moment. He was admiring you. Admiring you with your legs spread for him in his Longhorns shirt that was several sizes too big on you. Heat chased through your body, a sly little smirk on your lips. 

“Time is of the essence, Joel.” 

He didn’t say anything back. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed through the material of your panties. He hummed, cocky satisfaction filling him to the brim. 

Joel placed an excruciatingly soft kiss over your covered mound that had you writhing under him eagerly. His palm planted your thigh down again, feeling you quiver under his hold. 

You swallowed a lump down your throat as he pulled your underwear to the side, out of his fucking way. He was seeing you for the first time. It made your chest heave with shakier breaths. 

You were glistening for him, wet and gleaming in the sunshine that was starting to dance across the lake and over the truck. Panic flooded your core. He was taking his damn time. You needed him now. 

“Joel-” you warned again, but it was too late. 

His nose nuzzled against your clit as he flattened his tongue and licked up your center, tasting you properly. Your head dug into the truck bed, a loose moan leaving your parted lips as you closed your eyes and experienced a sweet paradise. His tongue flooded you with his saliva, Joel’s taste buds in galore as he tried you for the first time. 

You wondered if he thought about you tasting you like this before. The thought as well as his head between your legs left you humming in appreciation. 

Your free hand found its purpose, nestling your fingers into Joel’s hair while his head made gentle nods against your core. His jaw was slack, mouth lodged open as he consumed your sex in its entirety. He didn’t leave one centimeter of you unmarked. He commandeered the landscape like it was his territory, his possession. 

Puffs of his name left your mouth, you couldn’t help but be vocal when he made you feel this good. 

Joel’s tongue moved now with purpose, precision. He lapped at your entrance, tongue dipping in to feel your tight walls before moving back up and around your swollen clit. He was discovering you, what made you tick, what made you burn with passion and lust.

You held back moans of his name, bringing Joel’s shirt you wore up into your mouth by the collar to bite down onto. Your muffles were concealed by the material for now. 

You ground your hips lightly into his face, finding a rhythm you liked. He lets you. He wants you to feel good. 

Thumps of your heart pounded against your chest, Joel’s tongue still working perfect circles and swipes at your clit. He pulled away just for a moment to wet his fingers, you watch through hooded eyes. His amber ones flick to yours. Can I?

 You nod your head, a silent and desperate yes. 

He pursed his lips, face pierced with concentration as he pushed his middle finger into you, your walls welcoming the intrusion with a flood of arousal to allow him deeper. You took in a shaky gasp as he filled you to the knuckle.

“Fuckk-” you said a little too loud, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth and got a well-deserved glare from Joel. 

“Can’t hold yourself together, can ya, pretty girl?” His voice was as rough as gravel. 

You couldn’t even answer him back, the threads that held together your integrity were slowly plucking loose.  

You whimpered like crazy, the shirt swallowing as much of the noise as it could, but the rhythm of his finger and his mouth returning to your clit was sending electric currents through your entire body. You were short-circuiting with Joel’s tongue and fingers playing with your pussy. 

Joel’s mouth was warm, the taste of you a new hunger for him. You could hear his jeans scuff against the ground. He was trying to hold himself steady. The realization made you throw your head back, losing the shirt as a vice as you gripped his strands tighter between your knuckles. 

“Fuck, Joel--, ohmygod-” you whimpered quietly. The slurping of your cunt was louder than your words. The noise felt so loud in your pounding ear drums, you were worried it would wake the neighbors. The neighbors being your parents and Joel’s daughter.

You were close, even with just one of his fingers inside of you, you were close. You 

weren’t sure if it was because of your pent-up sexual tension, your vibrator dying, or your fingers not doing you justice. Maybe it was the fact that it was Joel Miller, but you were holding onto a very thin rope on the verge of snapping. 

You pulled your shirt up, releasing his toolbelt as your hand fondled your tits. You could feel him smirk against your thighs as you pinched at your hardened round nipples. 

“Such a pretty girl.. Taste so fuckin’ good too.” His words reverberate against your core, the vibrations tickling your clit and making you whine his name. His compliment caused a certain warmth in your chest.

Your head lulled from side to side. He wasn’t letting you know peace once he added a second finger. You had to take a moment to adjust but Joel could feel it, he knew exactly what to do and when. He was so seasoned, experienced, he’d be the first guy to make you cum like this. 

Your thigh against his head clenched tighter around his shoulder, keeping him in close against your core as he continued to work his tongue in figure eights around your clit. The soothing circles were creating a harmonious rhythm, your stomach felt like it was going to fall through a trapdoor. You weren’t going to last much longer. 

Then he tried something new. 

A loud gasp left your lips, your body scraping its way to sit up on your elbows as you watched him nibble and suckle at your clit. Your elbow had nicked his exposed flathead screwdriver in the process, a hiss seething from your mouth. It didn’t matter now. All your mind could focus on was Joel and his hellish tongue. 

The suckling at your clit unlocked something undiscovered, your lips parting in fascination before your head fell back and landed on the tops of your shoulders as you looked to the heavens with blurry vision. 

A lazy smirk was plastered on your face as he held you in place. You weren’t going anywhere.

Heated pants left your mouth, unable to breathe with the new sensation. The sucking was a distinct sensation, one you liked. You could feel his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitive bud. It made your thighs twitch, and your walls flutter around his still pumping fingers. 

Joel’s digits moved gently with their thrust, a gasp of his name flooding the air as he curled them deep, massaging your spongy walls. 

You were breathless. You could barely muster up anything besides his name weakly on your lips. You tried to tell him, but it was already too late. 

“J-Joel I’m-- I’m cominggg, shit,” you moaned out a little too loud. The whole valley around you echoed, or so it seemed. Joel’s protective grip tightened, your hips convulsing as you came over his tongue. He fucking loved it. He held you there and took you for everything you were worth.

You dropped to your back once more, his fingers still working a slow rhythm that he was insistent on not breaking until your walls stopped fluttering around his knuckles. You were still trying to come down to Earth when he licked you clean, your body twitching every time he flicked his tongue against your throbbing clit on purpose. Fucking asshole. 

Your hold on his hair loosens. You can’t help but make a face at the sight of him. Wild curly locks, mouth and chin covered in your slick, slightly flushed cheeks. He looked just as fucked as you did. He looked submissive on his knees, his eyes gleaming as he looked to you. 

You watch with obsession as he mindlessly pops his two fingers past his lips, licking them clean of your slick. Such a compliment. 

He guided your leg off his shoulder and put your underwear back in its place. 

You leaned up on your elbows, still seeing stars. Joel stood up from the ground and brushed any residual dirt and dust off his jeans. He brought his hand up and toyed with his jaw, meaty fingers adding pressure into the masseter muscle as he worked to relieve the tension that had built while going down on you with such dedication. 

You weakly sat up, the slotted ribs of his truck bed making indents in the flesh of your arms and thighs. Brands of your filth. Your big shirt fell back into place, your legs swinging lightly as they hung off the truck bed. You glanced at the back of your arm, seeing the scrape from his tools. You’d be fine. 

Once you turned straight to face Joel once more, you noticed he was fighting back a little smile about something, his hands on his hips and his knee cocked out.

“What?” You ask, trying to scoot further down the tailgate. 

“Nothin’.” He said gruffly, taking you by your hips and lifting you with ease like a ragdoll back onto the ground. His eyes stayed on the floor, your curious gaze following his down to your fluffy slippers. 

“Oh.” You muster up, clicking the toes together. 

“They’re uh… cute.” He tried to compliment, still with a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Shut up. They’re slippers.” You griped, your hand coming up to wipe away the glisten on his chin. He took over, pinching the collar of his shirt between his fingers and bringing it up to wipe away what was left of you. It was oddly attractive. 

He reached past his toolbox and belt, handing over your black sleep shorts after feeling over the material for a moment with a swipe of his thumb. 

You muster up a thanks, looping one foot in and then the other before you adjusted the band around your waist, the orange t-shirt falling back into place at your thighs. 

You couldn’t help but look around, the serenity of the early morning hours would only last so long on the lake. People liked to walk their dogs and jog, you didn’t want anyone reporting gossip. 

You turned back to Joel and assessed him. The Texas sun was already making both of your skin swelter, despite it being just past sunrise. 

You took in a sharp breath to say something, pursing your lips to keep them shut. Joel looked at you expectantly. 

“What?”

You shook your head and shrugged, holding your hands behind your back as you teetered on your feet. 

A stern expression passed over his face. “What?” He pressed harder. 

You tried to smother a laugh. “Your hair, Joel.” 

With an annoyed sigh, Joel amused trying to tousle his curls into place with the assistance of his truck’s driver-side mirror, grumbling a few curse words in response before leaving it be. 

You admire him, how handsome he looks so effortlessly. You suddenly became glaringly aware of how you looked right now. No makeup, baggy clothes, could use a shower. Fuck. 

“I gotta get goin’, already late.” Joel said as he returned  to the tailgate, lifting it with ease and slamming it into place with a few sharp snaps. “I’ll see you. And I’ll message you.” 

A small smile ticked at one half of your mouth, nodding. It was a promise. “Please call it texting, Joel.” 

He furrowed his brows as he looked over your face. “What difference does it make?”

You snickered and shrugged. “How old you sound.” 

Cue the classic Joel Miller eye roll. “Fine. Textin’.”

“How can you be working on a Saturday? That feels illegal.” 

This mustered up a short little chortle from Joel. “It’s not technically working, that’s why.” 

Your head curiously tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, avoiding your eye contact as he looked past his truck and to the lake. 

This was what you had to deal with. Trying to get information out of Joel was an investigative effort, one you didn’t have the energy to dig into at the moment. You finally felt tired after your week of restlessness. 

You waved each other off, your face electric as you turned away from Joel and snuck back inside without a peep. As soon as you lay back in bed, feeling your heart thumping after your meet-up with Joel, you heard the door to your parent’s room crack open, and your father’s obnoxious morning yawn followed accordingly. Couldn’t have cut it any closer.

Finally, you felt sleep caressing the edges of your mind. Not a beat after your head hit the pillow, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. With hazy eyes, you turned it over in your palm and squinted at the brightness. 

joel miller Anything I can do to get in your good graces again?

You instantly smiled, lazy fingers typing a response. 

how about a movie night? 

He took a moment to respond. You could see him thinking it over in your mind’s eye. 

joel miller Fine. 

Your face lit up as you quickly took advantage of him owing you one. 

and I can pick the movie?

You could practically feel Joel’s eye roll from a mile away. 

joel miller Jesus. Fine. Tomorrow night. 

Tomorrow was perfect. Sarah said she would be on a camping trip and your parents would be visiting old school friends in a neighboring town for drinks and dinner. 

tomorrow night it is, mr. miller 

joel miller Whatever you say sweetheart.

---

wanna read part 3? read cherry!

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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.0K

CHAPTER FOUR:

Kento sat sandwiched between a window and Suguru, while Yuki sat next to Suguru, with you facing him. It was an awkward position, and you protested the entire time. 

But Yuki basically shoved you on that side and sat herself down beside Suguru as if Kento needed some protection from you.

Still, as you sat eating a deli sandwich, Kento ate his food. His expression was blank and controlled as if he hadn’t confessed to being interested in you.

It felt as though you were in high school once again. A rush of heat met your cheeks, and even though it didn’t show, you could already feel Yuki’s judgmental stare on you as you fought a smile that crept its way to your face.

“So, Y/N,” Yuki started suspiciously

 Oh no, you thought

“How’s the dating scene going?” A slight smirk was present.

“I don’t think this is an appropriate question to ask during work hours, Yuki.”

“Oh please, We grew up together! Suguru and Kento have seen it all from me during University.”

Yuki leaned in, waiting for your answer.

"So invested in others' private lives, I must ask Yuki, how exactly is his name again?? Kamo?? Kano Chosa?" Kento came to your rescue, or more so his rescue, if completely honest. Fear of you exposing him to the others rose within him; even if he didn't think you were the type of person to do so, it did not worry him any less. The last time he trusted someone with his romantic feelings, he was left abandoned in a hotel, naked and alone.

"Choso," Yuki said plainly with a venom-filled smile as she did so. "See, unlike some people, I am not afraid to be open with one's friends, nor am I unable to control myself when temptations arise."

"Is this going somewhere, Yuki?" You asked, tilting your head at her as though you cared for what she had to say.

Oh, you are so going to kill her when you get home tonight.

"Choso and I are going steady! We haven't had sex yet, but we did do some fun oral stuff." Nanami choked on his water at that, which earned a chuckle from Suguru, whose eyes seemed laser-focused on his phone.

"Is oral stuff not sex?" You asked, more curious than annoyed now, 

"Of course not." Yuki rolled her eyes,

"Now, what brought this random question on, Yuki?" Suguru asked, swirling his water bottle as he finally put his phone down.

"Nothing; I am just curious. You and Toru have this weird unspoken hookup thing but never actually commit, so I have nothing to ask of you. Unless you have decided to finally be a man and ask him out, there is nothing to ask of you. We all know that Kento doesn't date, so the only one left is Y/N."

“I am so sorry to disappoint you, but there is nothing to tell.”

“You guys should have heard the college stories Y/N told me over late-night phone calls. Wilder and wilder with each phone call.”

“Oh, please. I’ve cleaned up the act.”

“I find that hard to believe, but okay.”

You only playfully rolled her eyes at this, satisfied with Yuki dropping the interrogation, 

“Okay, I need to pee.” Yuki shuffled her way out of the booth before heading to the restroom, which was inconveniently upstairs. Once she was gone, a soft chime of Suguru’s phone rang, calling him to attention, he stepped out with a small mutter, something along the lines of a smoke break.

Leaving you alone with him.

“So you were a party girl?” Kento broke the silence between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You don’t seem like the party type.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” You responded a little too sharply, sighing before continuing, “I was a very repressed and sheltered kid, so when I went to university, it was like everything and nothing at the same time. I was free to do what I wanted but didn’t know what to want. I made so many bad and embarrassing memories, from throwing up on my crush’s shoes to falling off of bar tables because I didn’t know what control was. And the many nights spent with strangers, I don’t regret at all. Even the awkward and embarrassing ones.”

“Do you regret losing it in university?”

“Surprisingly, no. I don’t regret any decisions, not the parties I attended or the men and occasional women I had fallen into bed with. They all helped me figure out what I enjoy,” Your eyes flicked to his lips, “and what I want.” your eyes flickered back up to Kento’s eyes, “I wouldn’t have minded waiting either. I think we as a society put way too much importance on virginity, so I never really thought of it as losing something or gaining a badge of honor. I saw my virginity as just a thing that happens. I am not a dramatically different person because I had sex, nor would I be if I hadn’t.”

“Oh.” 

“You aren’t a man, or do you have many words?” You giggled at him, making him blush at your happiness.

“Let’s go on a date.” He said with a black face.

“What?” 

“The bathroom was nice, but why on earth did  I have to climb a thousand and one stairs to get there.” Yuki came back, sliding herself right next to Kento, but you didn’t even process what she said. The only words you heard were Kento’s, as they repeated in your ears repeatedly. 

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Y/N?” Yuki called your name.

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Yes.” You said to Yuki, but indeed, it was directed at Kento, 

“Yes.” You repeated as you fought a beaming smile that desperately wished to be worn on your face.

Preview...

"I think I quite like you on your knees."

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CHAPTER FIVE: UPLOADED

[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 11

WC: 6,857

Notes: MDNI- This chapter has smut in it, like pretty close to right away, the reader and Jason take the next step of their relationship, Oral sex (female receiving), Penetrative sex (with protection), Jason is very touchy-feely and so so domestic, Jason gives the reader a new gift and takes her to work

Also! This is the end of the first arc of this story and so I will be taking a few weeks off of posting so that I can write ahead enough to consecutively post the next arc as I have with this one, even if I get busy with school again. Thank you for reading, I will see y'all soon :)

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 11:

“And everybody’s been putting condolence cards and stuff into your locker, so did you want me to clean it out for you in the morning, or-”

“Marcy, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure? There was a rumor around work that someone in your family died, so everyone-”

“Marcy,” You interrupted, “I got it. I’ll take care of it when I get on shift tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay,” She relented. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you.”

It made you smile to hear that. “I’m excited to get back. I’ve been going a little stir-crazy sitting at home.”

“You haven’t been out to see Jason?” She asked.

“No, he’s been at home with his family. He’s coming over tonight though since he got the all-clear to be up and moving around again.”

“Aw, and the first thing he wanted to do was come see you, that’s sweet.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, and then she made a gagging noise.

“Hey, what did we say about leaving my relationship alone?”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll call you later.” She took on a conspiratorial tone when she added, “Have fun tonight.”

You could only shake your head and sigh. “Bye Marce.”

“Bye, babe.”

Just as you were hanging up with Marcy, your phone buzzed a text notification: Jason, saying he was on his way. You shot back a quick, “Drive safe,” before beginning to pull ingredients for dinner from the fridge so you could begin prepping. You’d barely gotten anything done by the time you heard a knock at your door. Your eyes narrowed as you double checked the time and noticed he’d gotten to your apartment far faster than he should have. Drive safe, my ass, you thought.

Jason’s face broke into a warm smile when you opened the door. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

Any irritation you’d had at his driving habits dissipated instantly when he reached for you, encircling your waist in his arms and burying his face in your hair. You returned a soft, “Hey,” as you wrapped your arms around him too, smile spreading across your own face to finally be able to touch him again.

He gave a dramatic inhale and almost groaned, “Oh fuck, I missed you. I swear they were trying to kill me this week.”

You tried to ignore the way his breath felt against your neck as he spoke and focused instead on keeping up the conversation with sarcasm. “Aw, poor baby. What did your loving family do to you while you were away?”

He caught your tone but chose to answer earnestly anyway. “Locked me in my room, mostly. They set up a guard rotation so I couldn’t sneak out.”

You pulled away from him slightly to be able to look him in the eyes. “Are you really that much of a flight risk?”

“I am when you’re all the way across town, yeah.”

His answer made you snort but your face heated all the same. “Well, you’re here now,” you said as you moved your right hand to his cheek and stroked your thumb over his cheekbone for a moment before leaning up to kiss him.

He met you halfway and pressed his lips to yours, right hand finding its way to the back of your neck while his left stayed draped around your waist. As the kiss deepened, you felt his grip on you tighten. Jason pulled your hips to his and the contact made you gasp slightly, allowing his tongue access to your mouth. The shift in mood was immediately tangible and you found yourself floating in the moment of devolving self-control. Before you completely lost yourself though, you pulled away to speak up.

“Jay, I-” Your sentence was cut short as he lifted you onto the kitchen island and reattached himself, this time to your neck, and began sucking a bruise into the skin below your jaw. You moaned, and your hands flew to touch him, one balling the shoulder of his shirt into your fist, the other finding purchase in his hair, and the slight tug you gave made him groan into your throat. You knew you only had a moment left to protest before any care you had about the food you’d begun to prepare would vanish. “Jason,” You started, trying desperately to focus on your words, not the way he’d dragged your hips to the edge of the counter and was rocking his own into them. “I was making dinner, I-”

He immediately unlatched from your neck, and his hips slowed, but didn’t stop as he took a moment to calm his breathing before responding. “If you don’t want to do this right now, I will wait, but Sweetheart, I am more than happy,” he emphasized his point with a nip to the back of your jaw and a roll of his hips, “to cook for you after.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at his words and goosebumps broke over your skin at his breath on your neck as he spoke. The choice was an easy one. “Dinner can wait,” you managed between heavy breaths. Jason was quick to react, and a yelp of surprise escaped your throat as you were pulled from the counter. Your immediate reaction was to cling to him; pressing your chest to his with a death grip on his shirt, and your legs wrapped around his waist like a vice. The action made Jason chuckle in your ear.

“Relax, Sweetheart, I’m not going to drop you.”

And you knew that. You could feel the hold he had on you, the way one hand cradled your back and the other palmed your thigh. You weren’t going anywhere unless he decided you were. The walk to your bedroom only took Jason a few strides, and he was on you again the moment your back hit your bed. Your desperation only grew as his hips ground down into yours, and you broke the kiss to pull Jason’s shirt over his head.

When your touch turned soft, the need drained from your actions, Jason froze. His gaze trailed to where your fingers lightly traced over the scar on his shoulder, left behind by the bullet that had made a home there only a couple of weeks ago. There was worry in your eyes when he finally looked back at your face.

“I’m okay,” He reassured you with a nod, holding himself above you. “It’s fully-”

“I almost lost you that night…” Your thoughts processed aloud as your mind wandered, fingers still tracing the healed wound.

“I know,” his tone was almost placating as he spoke, “but you didn’t. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Jason took your hand from his shoulder and pressed it into his chest over his heart. “I’m right here.”

Your other hand reached up to his cheek and Jason leaned into it. “Show me.”

The request was simple, and Jason found himself eager to comply. He only had time to respond with a nod before you pulled him back down to kiss you again. He’d convince you like this over and over if you’d let him.

Getting each other undressed was quick work, and you knew you’d have to go searching for where Jason threw things, but that was a concern for later. Now, there was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, kissing up the insides of your thighs, leaving little bite marks here and there before quickly soothing them with his tongue. You began to squirm.

“Jay, skip it,” you pleaded. “I want-”

“Sweetheart, trust me,” He interrupted. “You want me to prep you.”

You shuddered at the thought and a gasp rushed into your lungs when you felt his tongue delve into you. Your fingers found his curls instantly, and you looked down to find those green eyes staring at you, watching how much you liked him eating you out.

“Fuck,” came out of you as a broken groan. You saw his eyes squint a little as though he was smiling at your reaction before he began dragging his tongue along the inside of your walls.

Jason had a pride in himself about the way he was finding he could make you feel, about the way your hands balled into fists when he- The thought was interrupted by the drag of your nails against his scalp and the pull of his hair that elicited a depraved moan from him.

The noise felt like it vibrated through your entire body, and for a moment, every muscle flexed. “Jay-” You pleaded; his name almost choked in your throat by your own breathlessness.

He pulled away from you only enough to speak. “I need you to hang on for me, Sweetheart. Just a couple more minutes.”

“Jason-” Whatever response you’d had for him was completely lost to you as the man going down on you readjusted his attention. He began sucking on your clit as two of his fingers pushed into your core. You moaned at the stretch and the change of stimulation and felt yourself tighten around his fingers.

Jason hummed in approval as he continued his efforts on your clit and waited for you to relax enough to begin working you open on his hand. He paid close attention to each time you gasped and moaned and made note of how he’d done it for later. The chanting of his name sounded like a grounding, an anchor, coming from your mouth. There was no floating away or wishing for something else; not when he could be here, with you, like this. Jason’s eyes trailed up to watch your face, only to find that you were staring down at him, and a rush of arousal traveled down to his already impossibly hard cock. He needed you to be ready for him, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to wait much longer, so he slowed his movements with his hand until he had nearly stopped and slid a third finger inside you.

A small gasp left your throat and your eyes fluttered shut as you adjusted, and when you gave a nod, Jason began picking up his pace again. Immediately, you could feel your orgasm building, and you found yourself grinding down into Jason’s face and hand in search of more friction.

He took it in stride, matching your movement and encouraging it, eager to get you there. As his fingers pumped in and out of you, Jason began to drag his fingertips along your walls and you lurched, a choked moan escaping you as your grip in his hair tightened. Jason groaned into you and the combination was enough to push you over the edge. The tension that had built up inside you finally snapped, and Jason worked you through it as you floated in a blissful haze. When he finally withdrew from you, you whimpered at the loss.

“Don’t worry, I’m still here,” He reassured you as he moved up the bed to lay on his side next to you. Immediately you brought your lips to his, and Jason groaned, hips rocking forward on their own. “Condoms?” He asked breathlessly, barely detaching from you.

“Top drawer, nightstand,” you answered, pointing to the correct side.

As Jason began to pull away, you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth, and he let out a huff. “Fuck, Y/n, you are going to be the death of me.” He shook his head slightly, lopsided smile looking almost cocky as he reached with one hand to open the drawer and pull out one of the small metallic packages. He opened it with his teeth, opting to keep his other hand on your waist, before sliding the latex on. He positioned himself between your legs and rocked his hips forward to drag his dick over your folds. A hum of appreciation rumbled in his chest at finally getting some of the sensation he craved.

“Jay please,” You whined, growing impatient, “just fuck me.”

He chuckled lightly, “Okay, I hear you.” He reached down to line himself up with your core. “Ready?”

You nodded and gave a “Yes,” that was dripping lust, until your exhale was cut off by a shuddered gasp as Jason began to push into you. You gave a choked scoff in surprise as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him. If this was what he felt like after prepping, you thought, you were glad he didn’t let you start with this.

“Fuck,” he grunted above you, “Sweetheart, I need you to relax, baby, breathe.”

Ironic that he was telling you to breathe when it sounded like he could barely catch a breath himself. But you did your best to follow his instruction anyway, eventually relaxing enough that he was able to slowly start rolling his hips to work himself further inside you, a little at a time.

Once he had fully buried himself in you, Jason paused to take in the feeling of you flexing around him and he groaned.

“Jason, move.”

Jason found he was more than happy to listen to the instruction you’d given, pulling out almost all the way, only to force himself back in to the hilt.

Your response was a choked gasp of, “Oh, fuck,” and you felt him push a little deeper as the man adjusted his position above you.

His movement started slowly at first, trying to savor the feeling of dragging through your walls, and he reveled in the way your hands explored his lower back, encouraging him, pulling him deeper. But his control disintegrated when you moaned his name and your nails dug into his back at a particularly hard thrust; his regard for taking his time was gone.

It only took a moment before you could feel another orgasm building. Jason used his bruising grip on your hip as leverage to pull you into his every thrust, and you could feel his desperation grow as his rhythm grew harsher. Your back arched as much as you were able given his hold on you, and the slight change in angle had him hammering into your G-spot. You could feel the way you clenched down around him as you called for him, and Jason let out a stuttered moan.

His breathing became ragged as he tried to speak. “Do it again,” he growled, and you weren’t sure if he was asking or demanding. “Say my name.”

“Jason,” you could barely repeat it before a sharper thrust forced a gasp into your lungs.

“Again.” He ground the word out through his teeth, eyes locked on your face as it twisted in pleasure, the pleasure he gave.

“Jason,” it was begging this time, and you focused everything you had left on being able to keep begging, nails dragging along his back as you attempted to keep some grip on reality.

And it drove him crazy. Jason could feel how close he was, thrusts becoming erratic as he tried to hold out. He wanted you to finish first; he wanted to feel you come undone on his cock. “Fuck, Sweetheart, what do you need? I’m close.”

You nodded as much as you were able with your head thrown back. “Me too, I want-” Your sentence cut off as you shuddered, and you knew you were about to burst. “Jay, kiss me.”

Just as his lips crashed to yours, your orgasm flooded over you. Your mouth opened in an uncontrolled moan and Jason drank it down eagerly and he continued to pound into you. But the spasming of you around him and the pull of your fingers in his hair pushed him over the edge, and Jason buried himself to the base in you with a choked groan.

There was a moment of quiet as Jason allowed his head to hang in the open space next to yours, and his hips gave a few weak involuntary thrusts as reaction to the aftershocks rippling through you. You hissed at the overstimulation now beginning to set in. “Jay, too much.” You said weakly.

Chest heaving over you, he nodded, “Okay baby, one second,” and between his attempts to slow his breathing, Jason carefully pulled out of you.

He was out of the bed for a moment, though you were too delirious to figure where he’d gone, before he returned to your side. His hand reached up to cup your cheek and the sleepy smile you gave him melted his heart. His thumb dragged briefly over your bottom lip before he leaned down to kiss you, slowly and lazily. When he broke the kiss, he spoke just above a whisper. “I don’t think I will ever have words for how gorgeous you are right now.”

You hummed in appreciation of the compliment. “I could say the same to you.”

He huffed a chuckle and questioned, “Oh, yeah?” with a single raised eyebrow.

“Mhmm.” You nodded and reached up to gently drag your fingers across his forehead, where sweat had made his black and white curls cling to his skin. He was glowing, and just a little red from the blush forming on his cheeks and ears the longer you stared. And those green eyes of his, soft as ever, and filled with adoration. “You’re beautiful, Jason Todd.”

-

You awoke from what you could only assume was a brief nap to the smell of food cooking in the other room. You grabbed new underwear from your drawer, and Jason’s shirt from the floor before entering the kitchen.

“Smells good,” you stated with a hum as you planted a soft kiss on his exposed shoulder mid-stride.

“Yeah, thanks, I-” Jason’s sentence cut off with a groaned huff as he turned just in time to see you pull yourself up to sit on the counter. “Fuck, Sweetheart, I’m cooking,” He started instead as he approached you, “you can’t come out here dressed like that and expect to eat anytime soon.” His hands reached for your legs and started stroking slowly up the outsides of your thighs as he slotted himself between your knees at the edge of the counter.

“Said the man being all domestic in my kitchen, wearing nothing but sweatpants,” you replied with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. You leaned forward and gave a chaste kiss before continuing, “Besides, I’m starving. If you want another round, you’re gonna have to feed me first.”

He wore a cocky smirk as he chuckled slightly, leaning in to kiss you again. “Understood.” Another kiss. “So, dinner and then…” And another, during which he briefly caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“So, dinner and then we’ll see. I have work tomorrow.” You pushed him back slightly with a hand on his chest as you peered over his shoulder. You nodded to the stovetop behind him. “Your pot is going to boil over.”

“Shit.” The slight fear in his eyes as Jason pulled away from you made you giggle, but he managed to remove the pot from the burner before the contents overflowed.

It was only a few minutes later that dinner was ready, and you both sat down on the couch to eat.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” You asked, turning sideways in your seat to lean against the armrest and lay your legs over Jason’s lap in the spot next to you.

-

You woke up to your alarm blaring and groaned. Even after two weeks off, you’d have given anything to stay home today. Your sour mood was quickly overshadowed by affection as you felt a heavy arm fall over your waist and pull you back until you were pressed against a wall of muscle. When you felt Jason press a kiss to the back of your head and hum a sigh, you knew the alarm had probably woken him too. You turned in his grasp, though at first you had to fight his grip, before he realized you weren’t leaving.

“Jason?” You asked softly, hesitant to wake him if he was somehow still asleep.

“Mhmm?” He hummed in response, still not opening his eyes.

“When did we get off the couch last night?”

“You fell asleep after dinner. I didn’t want your back to hurt.” His answer was nonchalant and half-mumbled, but it made you smile all the same.

“You carried me to bed?” You questioned, fingers trailing lightly down the line of his jaw, now covered in the slightest hint of stubble.

“Mhmm,” he hummed the affirmative as he pressed a halfhearted kiss to your forehead, and his breathing began to slow again.

There was a pull in your chest toward sleep, wanting to stay in the comfort of Jason’s hold and rest with him. But you had to get up. You had work in a few hours. It only took a moment for Jason’s breath to even out the rest of the way and you knew he’d fallen back asleep. As carefully as you were able, you pressed a kiss to his jaw and pulled away. He stirred, but didn’t seem to wake, and you slowly slid out of bed, slinking off to the shower. You did your best to be quick, and when you returned to your bedroom to get dressed, you found Jason, lazily scrolling on his phone, still laying in bed. He dropped the device from his view and squinted pointedly at you.

“You left,” he accused, voice all gravel and breaths still deep from having just woken up.

The sight and sound of him only made you smile. “I had to clean up, I have work in a little while.”

His expression could have been something close to a snarl if he hadn’t been so sleepy looking. “Fine.”

“I still have a couple hours before I head out,” you tried to appease as you began pulling your scrubs from the closet to lay them out. “I can make breakfast before I go. Do you need to shower or anything?”

“Um…” Jason found himself nearly at a loss for words as he stared at you moving around the room. He watched as you slid your clothes on over skin that he wanted nothing more than to touch all over again. The tank top and shorts you wore clung to the curves of your body and Jason wanted to trace every line.

“Jay?” You stopped what you were doing and looked at him expectantly, head cocked to the side.

He nodded, a blush heating his ears and the back of his neck at having been caught staring. “Yeah, I probably should. Breakfast would be great.”

You chuckled as you watched him get up and out of your bed surprisingly quickly for someone who’d been half-asleep only a few minutes ago. “Towels on the shelf are clean!” you called after him.

“Cool!” He shot back with a thumbs up over his head as he continued to walk, not slowing until the bathroom door was closed.

A small smile crossed your features as you walked to the kitchen to get breakfast ready, figuring some eggs and bacon would do. You listened to the shower run as you threw the meat on the stove and mixed the eggs, and by the time you’d almost had everything finished, you heard the water turn off. A moment later, you caught in the corner of your eye, Jason walking by in nothing but a towel toward your bedroom. Your mind began to wander until a pop of grease landed on your arm. You hissed an inhale and gave a soft, “fuck,” as your attention returned to the task at hand.

“You alright?” The man asked, coming back out of the bedroom now in dark pants. He slid up behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist, resting his jaw against the side of your head, bare chest pressed against your back.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, running your unoccupied hand over his arm as you leaned into him. “Why are you always walking around my house shirtless?”

Jason let out a scoff of shock. “What, you don’t like it?”

“No, I love it, actually. But it’s a bit distracting.”

You could feel the boost in his ego and hear the smirk in his voice when he responded, “Oh is that what happened a minute ago? I was being distracting?” He planted a kiss on your neck in the same place you’d found a hickey in the mirror this morning as if to emphasize his words.

The roll of your eyes could not have been any bigger. “Yes,” you admitted, “But I have things to do today, so you being distracting is not something I have time for.”

“See, you say that,” he started while his hands began to wander down your sides and found the bottom hem of your shorts. “But this is what you’re wearing first thing in the morning.” He played with the elasticity of the fabric as he spoke.

“This is what I wear under my scrubs, Jay.” You said it in an almost chastising manner, as though it were entirely obvious. “It’s just an extra layer to make it easier to change if I need to at work.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh and squeezed you around the middle slightly as you continued to cook. “I guess that makes sense, like wearing compression gear under my suit.”

You nodded. “It’s exactly like that. Here.” You split the eggs in the pan in half and pulled a few pieces of bacon out and onto a plate and handed it to Jason before serving yourself the same way.

He thanked you, and the pair of you ate in the kitchen, him leaned against the counter you sat on top of.

“You know?” Jason questioned as he took your plate from your hands and rinsed them both off in the sink before returning to stand directly in front of you at the counter. “I think you like sitting up here because it makes you feel tall.”

You chuckled softly, a smile crossing your features as looked at him in the eyes without having to crane your neck as you normally would at this proximity. “Okay, and?” You returned his questioning tone. “Is it such a bad thing that I can see more than your jaw from up here?” You reached to touch the area in question, your fingers stroking gently over the skin, which you noticed had been shaved clean of the stubble you felt this morning. Pity. “Or that I can kiss you without standing on my toes?” You leaned in for a kiss but froze just before making contact and Jason made a choked noise of surprise at your audacity. “Or should you be the only one who gets to be tall?” You asked, leaning back to give space, and found that his jaw hung open in shock.

A mischief entered his eyes as Jason ran his tongue over his teeth. “Oh, Sweetheart, you are playing games you already told me we don’t have time for this morning.”

“So, no teasing anymore either, then. Got it, rules are different now.” You said with a sarcastic nod.

“Now, when did I say that?” Jason asked with a smile, reaching to place his hands on either side of your neck just under your jaw, letting his thumbs trace little patterns into your skin. There was a moment of pause as he seemed content to just look at you, before Jason used his grip on you to pull you back toward him and kiss you.

It was slow and careful as the two of you made out. Your hands found their way to the man’s waist and pulled him closer, but you were careful not to elevate the tension too much. When you broke for air, Jason was the first to speak.

“Did you want me to drive you to work today?” He asked, excited glint in his gaze.

“Jay, you don’t have to, I can walk just-”

“Okay,” He interrupted you, “Let me rephrase. May I drive you to work today, please?”

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Sure… Any particular reason?”

“I have stuff to do on that side of town anyway today, so I might as well, and…” He trailed off for a moment, looking almost guilty as he palmed the outside of your thigh. “I’d really like to show off.”

“Show off what, exactly?” You asked, a conspiratorial squint on your face.

“Well, you, mostly. But also, the present I brought you,” he said with a smirk.

True confusion overtook your features. “I’m sorry?”

Jason disappeared for a moment, leaving you in the kitchen alone as he retrieved his bag from the bedroom, setting it on the couch to dig around in it. “Do you remember I told you that if you liked going riding, I’d get you your own gear?”

“Yes…”

“Here.” He pulled a neatly folded pair of pants and a jacket from his duffle and presented them to you. “They should fit better to your size than the ones you wore last time, and if you need, I can have them tailored.”

You could only nod in response as you got down from the counter, overwhelmed by such a thoughtful thing. You took the garments from him and got dressed in your room, sliding the pants and jacket on over your shorts and tank top. The suit fit like a glove, and you smirked to yourself at the idea of what Jason had to go through to get it like this without your help. When you walked back out, you could feel the exact moment Jason’s gaze fell on you. It was heavy.

Jason hadn’t expected to be so taken by the image of you wearing the suit he’d had made for you. It was just typical riding gear, with some upgrades in the armor. No chance of road rash if the thing could take a bullet. Except seeing you geared up like this stirred something dangerous in him, especially since you were in his colors. This was as close as he figured he could get to marking you, without fully putting his name or symbol across your shoulder blades. This way, you’d look like you belonged there riding with him, regardless of whether he was in the helmet.

Both pieces had a base of solid black Cordura with stitching in just the right shade of red, and while the pants only had other small details in red like the beltloops and pocket linings, the jacket was a bit more complex. The shoulder and center back panels were a dark grey color to match the gunmetal zippers, and the detailing like pocket edges, sleeve cuffs, and the bottom hem of the jacket were all done in the same red. The last piece of the jacket was the only part he was concerned might have been over the top: a blood red hood. He watched as you pulled the hood up over your head and looked at him with an eyebrow quirked. Goddamn if you didn’t look good like this. But he didn’t want the gift to feel like an attempt to control you.

“If it’s too much, then-” he started.

“No. I love it,” you were quick to interrupt as you looked over yourself. A thought occurred to you however, and you voiced it to the man in front of you. “Are we worried it’s a little on the nose though?” you asked, running your fingers over the edge of the hood.

“Nah,” he huffed the word and shook his head as he approached you. “Designers use our uniforms as “inspiration” for avant-bullshit all the time. And besides, Alfred seems to think that even just using my visage will help keep small fish off you; something about not wanting to deal with the trouble if the actual Red Hood might be over your shoulder.”

He rolled his eyes playfully to try to keep the mood light, but you could tell this was important to him. The way Jason’s hands dragged over your sleeves like he was inspecting the article for flaws told you this was much more than him gifting you an outfit. You felt the material, and noticed it was thicker than that of the jacket you wore last time, but it was lighter in weight. And it had a striking resemblance in texture to- “Is this armor?” You asked, looking up to meet his eyes as the realization dawned on you. “Like yours.”

Jason nodded shallowly, “Everything except the body plates, yeah, it’s the same stuff my uniform is made of.”

“So, what I’m hearing is: I’m basically indestructible now,” you observed, mischief in your eyes and shit eating grin on your face.

“Oh-ho,” he let out a humorless chuckle as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. “Don’t do that to me.”

You looked up through your eyelashes at him, hands resting on his chest as you spoke. “What? You don’t want me running around letting the world know I’m untouchable because I’m part of Red Hood’s territory?” His grip on you tightened, and for a moment you thought you’d made him upset until you saw the way his eyes had darkened. A small smile crossed your features as you realized what was happening. “Is that a thing for you?” You questioned, doing everything possible with your inflection to make sure that he knew you weren’t making fun of him. “Jason…” your tone dropped slightly, and you reached up to stroke his cheek with the back of your knuckles as you continued, “do you like the idea of me being marked as yours? You want everyone to know I’m spoken for?”

In a flash, his fingers were closed around your wrist to stop your movements. “That’s not a conversation to have right now if you’re still planning on going to work today.”

So, yes, he’s very into that. “Noted. Thank you for the gear.” You gave a soft smile as you tried to pull the conversation toward a less risky topic.

Jason nodded, his grip on you softening as he breathed a small sigh of relief. “Of course. You liked being on my bike, so I wanted to make sure you’re covered just in case something happens on the road. And aside from that, it should be light enough that you can wear it any time you want extra coverage, without it getting too hot or heavy.”

“Okay,” you acknowledged as you processed his words. “And “coverage,” in this case means…”

“It’ll stop blades and most small firearms,” He stated. “Plus, burns, abrasions, and other types of impact shouldn’t be an issue. BUT-” He emphasized and made sure he had eye contact with you before continuing, “You can still get hurt, so I need you to still be careful. It’s a jacket, not a forcefield.”

“I know, Jay. I hear you. I promise I will be careful, okay?” You waited for him to nod in response to indicate he’d heard you before you spoke again. “Thank you for protecting me.”

Jason felt a swell of pride in his chest hearing you say that, and he leaned down to kiss you before responding, “Always,” and kissing you again. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, thumb on your chin as he tilted your head up to look at him.

You hummed in affirmation. “Almost. I need to get my scrubs in my backpack.” It only took you a few moments to get the garments rolled and put in your bag alongside the other clothing, snacks, and book you always kept in your bag for work, and then you were back. “Ready now.” You noticed that while you were out of the room, Jason had gotten dressed the rest of the way, into gear that matched yours, aside from the hood, absent from his jacket. There was a warmth in your chest at the fact that it wasn’t only about putting you in his colors, but getting the two of you to coordinate. For someone so convinced he’s incapable of good, you thought, he’s incredibly endearing.

Jason held your hand the whole way as he led you to the alley with worn-out parking lines on the side of your building. You almost found yourself surprised to see the bike was even still there, but you figured that likely had more to do with whatever anti-theft technology was installed on it. There were also two helmets mounted to the chassis by the gas tank. They were both sleek black, with gunmetal hardware and red linings you could see through the open visors. The slightly smaller one had one difference though, in the form of a subtle matte-black design pressed over one side: a dahlia.

“Those are new,” you pointed with a curious look on your face.

“Well, yeah, if I was going all out with everything else, I figured I might as well, right?”

You gave a soft smile, “Sure. Same level of protection I assume?”

“Obviously.” He shot you a scrutinous look as though to say, ‘you know better.’

“Can I ask how they’re mounted?”

He tugged on his helmet to show you it wasn’t budging. “They’re attached with the same electromagnetic signal that locks the bike up, so it doesn’t get stolen. We all have it on our work bikes, but since I’m going to be parking this one outside the manor garage more often, I figured I should probably get it installed.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much of a pain in the ass. You shouldn’t have to alter everything for-”

Jason cut you off with a short “Hey, stop,” before continuing with, “I am happy to make changes in my life to better accommodate the fact that you are in it. And full honesty, I probably should have done it a while ago anyway.” Satisfied you weren’t going to protest anymore; Jason redirected the conversation. “Now, c’mere Sweetheart.”

When you approached him, it was with such affection in your eyes that Jason couldn’t remember a time in his life that this wasn’t standard, that you were not his priority. And he didn’t want to. He pulled you into him by your waist and kissed you deeply, trying to show you how much he cared for you, how much he loved you. He would do anything you asked of him with no regard for consequence, he realized with no surprise, and Bruce was going to kill him for it when he found out.

When the kiss broke, Jason was quick to slide your helmet over your head, immediately followed by his own, and you heard a small crackle in your ear before, “Can you hear me okay?” You looked up to Jason in surprise at how much clearer this was than the last time you’d borrowed a helmet with a comm link in it, and you could tell by the way his eyes scrunched through the open visor that he was smiling. There was a chuckle through the same speaker and then you heard him say “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You’d never felt so spoiled in your life. “You did all this for me?” You asked, almost breathless with awe.

Jason shrugged as he finished fastening his gloves, “You needed gear. I wasn’t about to have you wearing the old hand-me-down shit that just hangs in the garage. I wanted you to have the best and be- What?” He asked, finding that when he looked at you from where he sat on the bike, your helmet was cocked at him.

“Nothing, I just,” love him. You loved him. “I think you’re pretty incredible.”

He huffed an almost sarcastic laugh. “Okay, Sweetheart, get on the bike.”

You took his outstretched hand and relied on his aide for balance as you swung your leg over the back of the motorcycle. As soon as your weight settled behind him, Jason started the engine and pulled out of the alley. The ride to your job was filled with easy conversation, but far too short, and when he pulled up to the front lot of the hospital, Jason was quick to find a spot in the row closest to the doors to park. The pair of you dismounted and Jason helped you out of your helmet before removing his own.

“Hey, kick ass today,” he flashed a brilliant smile that made your heart flutter as he spoke.

“Don’t I always?” you questioned as you pulled the front of his jacket down to you for a kiss goodbye. It was only about a second before you heard a wolf whistle from behind you, and you snapped your head to find Marcy and one of the other nurses staring from the coffee cart on the sidewalk outside the front door. You looked up at Jason apologetically, “I gotta go.”

He nodded, an understanding smile over his features. “I’ll pick you up tonight if I’m not already at work.”

“And if you are?” You questioned.

“Then we’ll do the usual,” he said with a shrug, throwing a wink your way. “Either way, I’ll see you later, Sweetheart.”

“Bye, Jay.”

Tag List: @4rachn3, @lettucel0ver, @m-0ona, @chrrybkt

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 113... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

This chapter was a cute one!! 😁 It was both fun and quite silly!! 🤭

I had a good time with today's chapter, so let's talk about it, shall we? 😄

This chapter begins with Damian trying to swat something away...!! 👀

It soon becomes very clear (if it wasn't already obvious to begin with) as to what exactly Damian was trying to swat away... 😌

...HIS THOUGHTS OF JEALOUSY TOWARDS ANYA'S NEW FRIENDS, FREDDY & TERTIUS...!!

And then, Becky proceeds to add fuel to the Damian's jealously fire...!! 👌😌:

BECKY, YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE MENACE!!! 🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂

I love how everything becomes Shojo-ified as Becky tells Damian about this, it's just so damn funny...!! 🤣🤣🤣

Later that night, Damian has a dream about fighting off his buzzing jealousy, but the buzzing soon fuses together into one giant monster!!! 😵 (I also really like there's a note that says that the monster's face spells out "buzz" in Japanese!! 😆):

Damian tried to fend off the monster, but it was all for naught as the monster defeats Damian & he wakes up from the nightmare...! After that, Damian tries to keep a cool head after waking up, then Emile and Ewen come by to check on him!! 😁 But to keep his friends from figure out what's really going on, he tells them that his "other friend" is actually the one with trouble, then Ewen and Emile have a revelation...:

OH MY GOODNESS, THESE TWO...! 👌😌

The next day, Ewen and Emile are looking into how to help Damian's "friend" out, but Ewen feels like there's no point in helping Damian with this because they're "no longer number one in the boss man's heart"...!! 😭 Emile brings Ewen back around to helping Damian out by telling him that they are the ones that Damian can on, so they decide to go ask Mr. Green for some help and he gives them some really good advice...!! 😁:

After that, Ewen and Emile tell Damian about what they learned from Mr. Green, they also added that he told them about something called a "Paradise Fist", when in actuality he was talking about a Paradigm Shift...!! 😅 Ewen then brings up that Damian's "friend" must really important to him, but Damian tells them that he isn't even close to that "friend" and tells Ewen and Emile that they are his true friends, which makes them both extremely happy!! 😊 Later that night, Damian dreams about the facing the monster (Mr. Buzz) again, but this time he's ready for him!! 😎:

With his Paradise Fist, Damian was able to successfully make peace with Mr. Buzz in his dreams so that he can rest easy now...!!:

The next day, Damian comes to school wearing a handcrafted of his Paradise Fist!!

Becky tells Damian that she thinks that his "Paradise Fist" is so uncool, but someone else sees it and thinks that it's cool...:

THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S ANYA WHO THOUGHT THAT DAMIAN'S PARADISE FIST IS COOL!!! 😆

Then, the chapter ends with Mr. Henderson being jealous of Mr. Green for being the one the kids went to for advice...!! 😂😂😂

And that was Mission 113, a nice fun little chapter this week!! 😆 I love that this was basically a follow-up to the end of Mission 112, with Damian dealing with his jealousy of Freddy and Tertius hanging around ANYA now...!! 😌 I also loved Damian's dreams and how in the first dream, he kind of looked like he was dressed like the Hero from Dragon Quest III...!! 🐉 Not to mention, Ewen and Emile were great in this chapter, as well as Anya loving Damian's Paradise Fist near the end of the chapter (though, I already had a feeling that Anya was gonna like it because she prefers the cool stuff...!! 😁)

Anyway, I think that's all I wanna say...!! 😄 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! PEACE OUT MY HOMIES!! ✌😁

[yumeka-sxf]

Spy x Family merch: cringe edition

I know we were all anticipating a new chapter today, but unfortunately there will be another break (hope Endo is okay!) But to make up for it, I decided to create this fun little post based on a silly idea I had a while back.

As most of you know, I buy a lot of SxF merch exclusive to Japan, mostly from Mercari Japan. I'm constantly browsing the listings for various different kinds of SxF stuff, and while most of it is normal, there's the occasional item that's a bit...off, either because it's bootleg or it's just made that way for some reason. So I wanted to showcase a few of what I like to call "cringe" SxF merch.

Disclaimer: This post is all in good fun, so if you happen to find this merch endearing and not cringe, that's great! This is just my opinion

First are these three oddly sculpted and possibly knock off keychains. Loid looks more like Loid disguised as Loid than actual Loid 😅

Anya and Yor have definitely seen things 😐

Next we have poor Bond, bloated head and squished head version!

Speaking of heads, I never liked the "severed head" type of plushies...having a character's decapitated head hanging on my bag is just kinda cringe to me, lol. Especially when they have no pupils, like this Loid one here.

I can't quite pinpoint what's so "off" about the below Loid figure...maybe the expression is too innocuous, lol. It looks more like another spy disguising himself as Loid 😆

In addition to the severed head plushies, I also don't like the extremely round, super deformed plushies. Maybe for characters who are naturally round-ish to begin with, like Pikachu or something, but for most characters, I don't get the appeal of this exaggerated humpty-dumpty look.

Egg Yor is just 😬 And only the most observant could even tell the one on the right is Yor, lol.

Not sure what it is about these two Anya plushies that don't look right to me. I think it's the lack of white on her eyes for the left one, and the shape of her hair and big forehead on the right one.

These Yor and Yuri are obviously Dittos 😂

If ever Loid looked like a sad puppy and Anya looked like a cat, these are those plushies 😆

I really wanted to come up with clever, funny captions for all these photos, but I have no talent for that, haha. But if anyone else wants to, feel free~

[namelessdumbass]

Rite Here Rite Now

It was amazing and funny. Copia girlies and boys fucking won!

I expected different outcome, tbh. Tobias managed to surprise me and also made me a tiny bit sad (reasons will be explained in the spoilers below).

The film consists of like 95% of concert footage and 5% of off stage/plot stuff. The quality of sound and editing is just 🤌 I expected the live of Twenties to be good and gosh Ghost delivered. And Mummy Dust...Tobias let Mary Goore out! But i honestly prefer Terzo's version (CaD) better. Sorry not sorry haha. Ghouls/Ghoulettes footage. Everyone who loves them will be very veeeery well fed!

Dance Macabre live...i was'nt wrong when i called it a satanic gay party 😁

The movie is worth watching and i do hope Ghost releases it as soon as possible for all those who were not able to go.

The spoiler free review ends here. Don't read further if you don't want to spoil it for yourself. And please, don't copy them and paste it everywhere for the sake of ruining other people's fun! Seriously, don't fucking do that!

If you accidently clicked here, don't worry! spoilers will be below and you still have a chance to avoid them :)

Alriiiiight:

Movie starts with Saltarian who tells fans to record for the first 2 minutes, to show how happy they are etc and posted a qr code for fans to upload those recordings. I guess it will be put up on RHRN website. We'll see. There were also photos of fans who attended LA ritual. I fucking loved the person who showed up in a giant Plushia suit. I LOLed! Then fans were asked to put down the phones and enjoy the movie. The beginning was narrated Star Wars kinda style (a little bit) with the small recap of the chapters and about Copia's worries that he might die. And yes, it literally began in space lol. The movie is basically is like what we saw in small snippets Ghost posted earlier. Plot mixed with a really good show.

And the plot: -Short footage of Copia and Ghouls arriving. ALmost the whole set was the same as any other concert from Re-Imperatour + a few awesome exceptions. -Dews does that annoying thing with guitar, Rain stops him, takes his pick and throws it into the crowd and Dew...he freaking showed him YouSuck sticker on the backside of his guitar. Peak Dew moment! -Copia asked the right question about the Clery. He also does not quite understand what it does, why and where it goes. I suppose Tobias decided to thicken the Ghost lore a bit and will have more clarity in the nearest future. -Remember when Copia jumped at the end of the Watcher in the Sky? He ended up in one of those stage boxes (for equipment or something) and is taken to the stage B. While he's carried to it by Kevin he has a chat with Nihil's ghost. Nihil says he recorded not 2, but 3 songs. That probably means that we'll hear a new one. (UPD: the new song we heard during the credits, "The Future is a Foreign Land" is Nihil's 3rd song! Confirmed by Tobias himself in a new interview). He also tells Copia to breath in deep and then farts. -On the Stage B Copia sings "If You Have Ghosts". 3 Ghoulettes played piano and violins and the 4th one did the haunting ghost-like opera vocals. It was beatiful. Copia kissed her hand. -He then wore boxing robe and went next to crowd. Almost the whole scene was shown in the trailer. -Btw, remember that silly moment when Nihil's eyes were crossing? Well, Kevin was also included in that staring contest. -Twenties live. The skeletons, the performance and one of those skeletons who crawled between Dew's legs...that's hot. -Nihil calls Copia "son". Copia calls Nihil "Dad". Cardi will insult him later, don't worry. -Nihil/Seestor cartoon during MOAC. Yes, that's when Sis hit him with the car. Basically it's what happens after "Kiss the Go Goat" mv. Sister leaves and Nihil runs after her. "I'll never let you go". They end up kissing in a coffin on a graveyard , later Nihil wakes up naked in a bed in a motel and we see Sister leave. -There was a moment in a movie when we see Ashley (stage crew) bring Copia a new pair of shoes and put the on on his feet. Tobias, goddammit what the hell was that? :D -Seestor was a in wheelchair all the time -She and Nihil encouraged Copia throughout the whole movie and gave him a piece of advice. -About the baloon from the poster. Copia flies on it after finishing the set...or he imagined that because a few moments later after Nihil/Seestor flashbacks he ends up on the floor and watches Seestor die. All of the Ghouls and Ghoulettes also stood right next to her. -Copia has a twin brother -Copia didn't die and became the head the Clergy (Father Imperator or something like this). He found out about his new position from a letter Seestor left for him. -New song during credits (credits show dictators, assassinations, wars and the use of nuclear war). Years 1984 and 2024 mentioned. The song is not heavy. -Ghouls/Ghoulettes real names mentioned in the credits -Funny post credit scene with Copia. He had no piant on and had a new cool drip (with black jacket and red and black cross). Seestor is also a Ghost now. Tobia's children cameo. They're also Ghosts. -Papa V is teased the same way Copia was teased in a chapter 1. They even used the same music (Pro Memoria). No face reveal. Either he will be revealed in new Chapters or at some point during the new tour???

-aaaand my biggest disappointment: no footage of Primo, Secondo and Terzo. Literally ZERO.

I mean, Nihil is a Ghost, Seestor also became a Ghost, even Tobias' children made a cameo as Ghosts, but nothing for previous Papas? Really?! The same could have been done for them, but i guess Tobias doesn't care about them anymore :( And it hurts. I know that's my fault that i had so many expectations and hopes, but holy shit :( As a newbie who never saw previous Papas, i'm so sad i'll never get a chance to see them and there won't be any new footage of them. Being Terzo widow is so hard. Guess that's why i'm a bit salty Copia lives (sorry, guys, i like him, but i also hate him haha)

And yes, as it turned out the twins theory from Square Hammer was true...but not for Terzo 😭

I enjoyed the movie nevertheless. It's fun and kinda gives you an opportunity to see the band "live" if you've never been to a ritual before. And yes, the movies was'nt just about Papa IV and his fate, i believe it was also Tobias' message for us to enjoy the life rite here rite now! As i said, Copia's girlies and boys truly fucking won. Congrats, lads, your Papa lives and will live! I bet that feels amazing. Thanks for reading! P.S. since you know the plot, don't spoil it for the others please.

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Six: Portraits Talk

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Five - Chapter Seven ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: Sirius attempts to quell your anger, though the pressure of acting aloof threatens to topple you.

Word Count: 4.3k

Notes: I slipped in some 70s weed slang for peak historical accuracy because I am a serious author with a serious subject matter. Also next chapter is some fun lil James stuff :)

You ran down the dormitory staircase into the Common Room, Marlene’s frantic steps following behind. You made a beeline to Dorcas and Mary, who were sitting at one of the small tables, your words half-dazed and rushing out in quick succession, “Have you guys seen Sirius?”

Mary’s eyes darted from yours to Dorcas, then back to you. 

Dorcas tilted her head, a smile beginning to pull up on one side of her mouth. “Why in such a rush?”

Your expression hardened, boring into Dorcas’s eyes with a determination you had not felt in quite some time. “You haven’t seen him, then?”

Dorcas paused, glancing behind you at Marlene. “He left with the guys about a half an hour ago,” said said, leaning back into her chair. “They said something about the Slytherin dorm–”

You turned on your heels before she could finish her sentence, leaving through the portrait hole without another word. No one followed as you pressed forward, flying along the west face of the castle and down the steps by the Astronomy Tower to the third floor. Ahead, you pushed aside the tapestry hanging on the wall into the shortcut to the dungeons, casting Lumos to light your way. 

As you began to cool off from your all-encompassing rage, you wondered what you actually planned on doing to Sirius once you found him. You forced yourself to stop walking, lowering your wand and darkening the area in front of you as you mulled over your options. A swirl of hexes and jinxes clouded your mind, though none seemed good enough punishment for his indefensible intrusion. Entirely preoccupied with all the spells your professors had warned you to never perform unless during a formal, supervised duel, you nearly didn’t notice the sound of footsteps moving ahead of you. 

Doing the first thing that came to mind, you pointed your wand into the shadows. “Colloshoo!”

The sound of hands smacking against the floor, followed by a high-pitched yelp ensued. The person muttered cursed to himself, the voice sounding eerily familiar. You cast Lumos again, finding Sirius half bent over himself, his hair falling over his face. He looked up, gray eyes meeting yours.

“The Stickfast Hex? Really?” Sirius pointed his wand towards his feet and performed the counter-curse, checking the underside of his shoes when he was finally unstuck. 

“I ought to do it again,” you called, watching him closely as he neared you. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, tucking his hair behind his ears as he looked you up and down. 

“I asked you first.” 

“If you must know,” he began, twirling his wand for a moment, “I was getting rid of the dungbombs Prongs bought me. Felt a little juvenile, but they were burning a hole in my pocket. I’d avoid the dungeons for a few hours, if I were you.”

You lifted your chin, eyeing his smirk in an attempt to tell if he was lying. As usual, you were unable to come to a solid conclusion. 

“And where are the others?” you questioned, peeking behind him to see that the passage was empty, or at the very least the visible portion.  

His posture shifted into something cocky, his mouth twitching with a devilish delight. “Why? Miss someone?” 

You took a step back and pointed your wand at Sirius again. He only laughed, his own wand remaining by his side. The pit of indignation in your stomach grew stronger at the sight of his ease.

“Why did you check to see where I was on the map? And why did you interrogate the bloody portraits?”

He shrugged. “I saw you and McKinnon leave in a hurry, I guess I got curious. Then I saw you stop under Lady Decima, who's a bit of a chatter, by the way. She's had a soft spot for me ever since I hexed Mulciber over by her a few years back. He was being quite the little prick,” he paused, sizing you up once more. “Portraits talk, you know.”

“Portraits talk? Portraits talk?” Sirius hadn’t seemed to expect you to grow so upset, your wand still pointing between his eyes. He took a minute step backward, the grip on his own wand growing tighter. “If I thought I could take you in a duel, Black, you’d be dead.” 

“Hey, hey.” He pushed your wand down a fraction, his smile a bit less mischievous. “I didn’t tell him anything. He’s just as clueless as he was before. Though, now that I’m privy, you are a bit obvious—”

“Locomotor Wibbly!” Sirius’s legs buckled beneath him, falling down in a wiggling mass to the floor. The sight of his gelatinous legs made you smile, especially when he looked up at you from below. 

“Merlin, L/N!” Sirius shouted, quickly performing another counter-curse as you watched him struggle. He stood up with a hand against the wall, still a bit shaky. “It seems like you very much want to duel me.”

You huffed, spinning around and facing away from him. Some of your seething anger had dissipated, leaving your embarrassment to fester in its place. Heat rose to your cheeks and you covered your face with your hands. You weren’t sure how much more of his teasing you could handle, especially when you only had Marlene to complain to. 

Sirius said nothing, presumably staring at your down turned head. After a moment, he said your name softly, though you made no move to acknowledge him. He stepped forward, inching his way until he was right behind you. “I…I mean, I didn’t mean to…”

“I know you’re having a tough time right now, but do you have to pick on me ?” you said, defeated for the time being. You turned to face him, seeing that his mouth, which was once in a clever smirk, now had fallen. He reached a hand up as if to place it on your arm, though it stayed hovering, never touching you. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t know it would upset you this much.”

“How could you not?” your voice was clipped again, sharp against the silence of the passage. You discovered that you did, in fact, have some anger left, and the will to fight. 

Sirius shook his head to himself. “Lady Decima made it sound like–”

“What? Like some school girl crush?”

“Yeah, kinda,” the humor you expected from him was not present. There was only guilt lacing his words, and maybe a good deal of shock. “Are you in love with him?” he asked. 

You breathed fast through your nose, the question sinking heavy in your chest. It was an anchor you had been avoiding for quite some time. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

He hummed, tight-lipped with narrow, curious eyes. “You don’t know?”

“Yeah,” you barked. “I can’t really tell. I’ve never been in love before, you know.”

“Well, neither have I,” he said, matching your tone. “But I think I’d know if I were.”

“You’re impossible,” you mumbled, harshly rubbing at your eyes. When you took your hands away, you saw Sirius was glancing around the passage. He sighed as his attention returned to you. 

“What’re you going to do about it?” 

You wondered why you confronted him at all, realizing that it wasn’t doing you any good. You should have stuck to your original plan, let it pass . He was waiting for you to speak, so you said the only honest thing you could, “I don’t know.”

“You’re very indecisive, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, now more annoyed with him than you were angry. Your hands came up to your face again, though they didn’t stay for long, fidgeting around at your sides before they stilled. Figuring you had already laid all your cards out, you decided that asking Sirius for a favor wouldn’t exactly hurt. 

“Can I ask you something?” He nodded, giving you a look to carry on. “Do you think, I don’t know…James doesn’t feel the same, right?”

Sirius sighed heavily, eyes drifting away. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that.”

Your heart dropped despite expecting as much. “So he doesn’t,” you said to yourself, solidifying it in your mind. You pushed the ache in your chest away, taking a single shaking breath. Maybe now, you could finally get over it. Maybe now, it wouldn't be so hard to--

“I never said that.”

Another rush went through you, a vague glimmer of hope. You quickly tampered it down, remembering Sirius’s earlier deceit. “What?”

“Honestly? I have no fucking idea if he fancies you. Ever since he and Lily broke up, he doesn’t say shite about girls. At first it was fantastic, not having to hear his constant bitching. Now I kind of miss it. Less material to work with.”

“What a mate you are.”

“Oi! Did I tell him about your little infatuation?” He raised his brows, his smirk returning. 

“I am not infatuated with him."

“Sure,” he drawled, pausing for a beat. “Really though, I have no bloody clue how he feels. If I knew, I’d tell you.”

“I’m not sure if I believe you,” you mumbled.

He threw his hands up with a huff. “I don’t know what to tell you, sweetheart. I’m trying to be nice here.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

He grinned, his teeth shining in the light from his wand. “Why? Only Jamie gets to call you that?”

With a flick of your wand, his legs were tripped out from underneath him. For a third time, he scowled up at you from the floor. 

“Godric , will you stop doing that?” 

“Yeah, when you stop being a git,” you snapped.

Sirius stood, still grouchy from his fall. Your steely eyes had not softened, even when he rubbed his leg. “You’re lucky I’m feeling kind today. I could retaliate.”

‘Whatever.” You turned to walk back through the passage the way you came, Sirius running up behind you and falling in pace at your side. 

“Are you really gonna stay miffed?” You didn’t answer, staring forward. “Fine. Want me to bribe you with grass?’ You stopped, turning to stare at him with narrowed eyes. He smiled back, sharp as always. “It’s from Maxwell. Got it from muggle London this Christmas.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You stood in the corridor, arms crossed and glancing sideways at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Sirius had gone inside a few minutes prior, though you were already growing antsy. You paced back and forth, listening to the Fat Lady’s untalented singing voice fill the corridor with a cacophony of flat notes. You paused as the portrait swung open, finding it was Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary that emerged, not Sirius. A brief moment passed in which you all looked at one another, blank faced and without a word. 

“Hey,” Marlene said finally. “What’re you doing?”

Your eyes drifted back to the portrait hole for a moment, knowing how odd you were about to sound and hoping they wouldn’t press you for details. “Waiting for Sirius.” You narrowed your eyes when Dorcas hummed, giving you the same intrigued look she had earlier. “What?” you asked. 

As Dorcas was about to speak, the portrait hole opened again. Sirius stepped through, holding up a small purple bag, tied off with thin, golden rope. He was smiling triumphantly until he saw the three others, dropping his pouch to his side. 

“Hello, ladies,” he began, strolling past them. “Where are we off to this evening?”

Marlene laughed, looking between you two, then towards the bag in his hand. “Where are you off to?”

“L/N and I have a study date, if you really must know. She's helping me with potions,” he said, cool as ever. If he wasn’t telling it to Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary, someone might have actually believed him. 

You rolled your eyes, pulling at his arm. “C’mon, Casanova, the Drought of Living Death isn’t going to brew itself.” You led him away, Sirius smiling back at the others who all stood around in perplexity. Once you were out of sight you dropped his arm, turning to him with a huff. “Potions, really? That’s your best subject, you git.”

“I’m sorry ,” he said, continuing forward without you. “Couldn’t tell them what we’re really doing. Then, everyones gonna want in on it. I can’t start giving up the goods now .”

“Whatever. Where are we even going?” you said, following him as he took a right towards the staircase.

“The Mirror Passage,” he said, his steps slow and without much urgency. “Can’t go to the RoR since it doesn’t show up on the map, and who knows where the others are. I figured they’d meet me at the Common Room.”

“Weird.” 

“I can always count on you for a witty remark now and then,” said Sirius before pausing a moment. “And who the fuck is Casanova?”

“I can’t believe you bullied me into sharing,” Sirius said with a shake of his head. You both sat on the ground of the cave-like room a quarter of the way into the Mirror Passage, your wands lying in front of you to illuminate the space. The stone ground was much too cold for your liking, but you decided not to complain. 

“You’re lucky I’ve decided not to hex you again,” you said, Sirius laughing when you began to cough. You recovered, shooting him a pointed glare. “I’m still upset, though.”

He raised his brows, reaching out his hand and wiggling his fingers. “I think I did you a favor.” 

“Yeah, keeping me up at night for a week straight,” you grumbled, passing the joint to him. 

“I keep you up at night?” 

“With anxiety,” you grumbled.

He passed it back, looking around the passage as if there was something interesting to behold. In reality, it was only dark, somewhat dank, and incredibly boring. “Maybe now you’ll actually do something for once.”

“You’re a real arsehole, you know that?” you said, soon coughing again. You gave Sirius a preemptive scowl, though it only made him laugh more. 

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, completely unfazed. 

You couldn’t be sure how long you and Sirius remained alone, though the joint had been entirely spent when you heard multiple sets of footsteps from down the passage. You both shared a glance, Sirius grabbing his wand and pointing it ahead of him. It was enough to light a few meters in front of you, but nothing more. Just as you went to pick up your own wand, a voice rang out from the darkness. 

���Are you decent?” called Peter, his voice echoing a bit along the walls. You could hear soft murmurs erupt after, presumably from James and Remus. 

“Yes, you gits,” Sirius said, watching as Peter ran up the passage and into the light. Behind him, James and Remus walked forward stiff as boards, their eyes darting from Sirius over to you. 

“What did you think we were doing?” you laughed awkwardly, attempting to meet Peter’s eyes, though he would not allow it. A faint blush appeared on James’s cheeks as he shared a glance with Remus.

“Snogging,” answered Remus plainly, causing your ears to heat like two frying pans on the sides of your head. Remus furrowed his brows, his head shooting towards Sirius on the floor. “Did you smoke without us?”

“Yes,” Sirius drawled, moving to stand up. 

Your head was rather hazy, blurring your inhibitions enough to look straight at James, who had a stray curl sticking up on the top of his head. “Hey,” was all you could muster, mouth gone dry.

“Getting high without me?” he asked, a smile beginning to grow as he looked down at you.   

You shrugged. “Didn’t know where you were,” you paused, starting to laugh as the situation became increasingly amusing. “Did you see us both up here on the map?”

James nodded, his gaze ripped from yours once again. He rubbed his lips together, the floor becoming rather interesting to him. 

“Well, couldn’t you tell we weren’t snogging?” you asked, laughter persisting. 

“It’s considered rude to spy, and ill-advised,” said Remus, “lest we be scarred for life.”

“Well, we definitely were not snogging,” you stated quite assuredly, nodding at the end to punctuate your point. You stood, moving to follow Sirius who had begun leaving the passage. 

“You deny it so quickly,” Sirius said in offense, voice a bit higher pitched than normal.  He ran a hand along the wall, his fingers bumping against the uneven stone. 

“Can’t blame her,” mumbled Remus. 

Your attention returned to James who was walking beside you, the corners of his lips tilted up as he watched you come down from your laughter. 

“Something funny?” you asked. 

“Never been around you like this before when I’m sober.” He bumped your shoulder, studying you as if you were a specimen in CoMC. If it were anyone else, you would have minded. “It’s a little odd.” 

You didn’t know what to say, eyeing his wayward curl and longing to smooth it down. You wished it were normal to do that for a friend, wondering if you could blame it on your altered state.

Remus peaked out of the passage, moving behind the mirror and checking the vacant classroom. On the far wall, desks were piled up against and growing dust, a few old candlesticks strewn here and there. 

Remus  glanced back, nodding in affirmation and you all stepped out. Your hands rubbing at your eyes as you adjusted to the light from the candles, charmed to burn until curfew. You hit James softly on the arm when he laughed at you, your head growing more and more fuzzy the longer he smiled. 

As you all moved ahead, your heart dropped, the sight out of the corner of your eye enough to make your stomach churn. Your head snapped away as you saw a head of curly brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and two dazzling smiles. You had seen it before when you came in, though now it was too much. Then, you kept your eyes low, but the urge to spin around and stare into the mirror was overpowering. 

Your own smile had completely vanished, replaced with a tight jaw as you resisted the temptation to stand in front of the mirror for hours on end. James placed a hand on your upper back, causing you to jerk away, your eyes snapping to his. He took it away instantly, a crease forming between his brows. 

“Are you all right?” he asked softly. “You look like you’ve seen a troll.”

The other three turned around to look at you as Remus opened the classroom door, beginning to peek out. 

“Yeah,” Sirius began with a smirk, shifting his weight to one leg, “she’s seen you.”

James’s eyes moved over to Sirius briefly before returning to you, the joke doing nothing to quench his concern. 

“Just got a little too high,” you began, hating the feeling of four pairs of eyes on you all at once. 

“Happens to the best of us, sweetheart,” Sirius said, peering over Remus’s shoulders into the corridor. Remus opened the door fully, allowing everyone to step out. 

You all walked in relative silence for a while, navigating the Swiveling Staircase with a masterful ease. It was nearing curfew and a handful of students were making their way back to their Common Rooms. A gaggling group of Hufflepuff’s descended the staircase past you, a Prefect saying hello to James and Remus. Her eyes were sharp, though notably kind, passing over you with a distinctive curiosity. You hated the way she looked at James, as if she was fond of him, as if she was his friend. She probably was. The idea that someone like James probably had dozens of girls wanting to go out with him made your chest tight, so aching it nearly crushed you completely. 

In your rumination over the nature of James’s relationships with the various Prefects in which he led, you had forgotten seven years worth of carefully practiced menuevers, your foot falling through one of the vanishing steps. Your hand caught on the marble railing, though the brunt of the work was done by James, who placed both hands on your waist and hoisted you up again. Your foot found the safety of the following step, allowing you to release a sharp breath of relief. Peter, Remus, and Sirius stopped, turning to stare at you. You barely noticed that James was still holding you until you caught Sirius’s smirk. You quickly turned to James with a thankful smile. He dropped his hands, eyes leaving yours. 

“Are you all right?” Peter asked. You nodded, taking another step forward. Everyone followed suit, Sirius looking back over his shoulder with the same expression as before. 

“Remind me never to get you high again,” he said. “You clearly aren’t cut out for it.”

“You really are an ass,” you grumbled, causing James to snicker a bit beside you. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

When you walked into the Common Room, Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary were nowhere to be found, and neither was Lily, though that was to be expected. Slug Club got special permission to be out after curfew, though this did nothing to persuade Sirius to join. When he got the little green invitation, he completely incinerated it without a word, happy to see Slughorn’s signature burn away into ashes. 

“So,” you began, throwing yourself in the large armchair by the fire, “how’s Seraphina?”

Sirius shook his head as you all snickered at his expense. “She’s fine , if you’re really interested. But no matter how much you beg, you’re getting none of the details, you degenerate.”

He sat on the couch next to Peter in Remus, James perching himself on the arm. His foot brushed the floor as it swung back and forth, stilling every once in a while for no discernable reason. 

“She didn’t dump you for smoking?” you asked.

“My dashing good looks overpowered it,” Sirius said with a roguish, confident smile. 

“I saw her outside of the Library the other day,” said Peter. “She called me Dexter.”

You all fell into a fit of laughter, Sirius’s smile fading into a mild grimace. You looked towards James without really realizing, his face charmingly animated, glasses reflecting the flickering flames of the fireplace. 

“I never said she was perfect ,” said Sirius, a smile beginning to poke out. “And you lot can’t say anything. Let me remind you, you’re all single.”

“That is not a qualifying factor to point out some very real concerns,” you said, leaning towards him and laughing at your own choice of phrasing. 

Sirius crossed his arms, a single finger wagging. “Just because you’re unlucky in love–

“I am not unlucky,” you scoffed, sitting back in your armchair. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Sirius said with a shrug.

Something unusual came over you, much like it had in the passageway earlier, though far bolder. Maybe it was the pet name, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you so smugly. More likely, it was the embarrassment that came with him saying such a thing in front of James, knowing it would get you going. 

You reached into your pocket and grabbed your wand, pointing at Sirius. He soon began sneezing uncontrollably, the others erupting in a new fit of wild laughter. 

“You– ach –little– ach –piece– ach –of–!” he couldn’t finish, caught up in a burst of particularly violent sneezes.

Remus flicked his wand and ended the hex, shaking his head. You wished he had let it go on for just a little while longer, the git deserved it. 

“What is with you, L/N?” Sirius whined, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “So touchy today.”

“C’mon, that was a good one,” you defended, trying to hold back your snickering. 

“Bloody fantastic,” James agreed. “One for the ages.” 

You finally looked towards him, growing shy as he smiled proudly at you. It was dangerous, the way you coveted his good opinion. You remembered Sirius’s earlier words: I have no fucking idea if he fancies you. There it was again, foolish, folly hope. 

Suddenly and without warning, Remus shot a burst of fire from his mouth, the eruption of flames causing you to jump with an unintended yelp. “ Godric , Remus!”

Remus balled up the Pepper Imps wrapper in his hand, tossing it up in the air and catching it with a grin. “My bad.” 

“You’re easy to scare,” James chuckled. “I’m gonna use that, you know.”

“Well, now I’m going to be ready for it. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t told me,” you said, your head growing fuzzy like it had last Saturday. Your limbs, too, felt impossibly light, as if you could float up to the ceiling if you tried hard enough. A particularly hearty laugh out of Remus broke you from this trance like a stream of ice-cold water from the Great Lake dumped over your head. The impending doom of your situation became apparent. After last Saturday, you were unable to trust yourself to keep your own secrets. Sirius didn’t seem too keen on helping you keep them, either. 

You glanced down at your wristwatch without really reading the time, sighing as if you were disappointed. In a way, you were. 

“I should go,” you said, standing from your chair. James popped up from his spot on the arm of the sofa, his brows furrowed. 

“Are you sure you’re all right, Y/N?” The concern in his voice was unhidden, an unintentional, powerful guilt trip. You nearly told him everything. Nearly . Instead, you nodded, trying to smile the best you could. 

“I’m fine. Promise.” 

With that you rushed off, walking up the steps to the girl’s dormitory at a normal, ordinary pace. However, once you were out of sight, you began to sprint to your room, the sight of your dormitory door like the gates of a sanctuary.

Chapter Seven

[yunuen]

your writing is so incredible omg. baby author attempting to write but horrible at keeping momentum going (generally come out strong with a fun beginning and lose steam). do you have an outlining process that helps you structure your fics? how do you go from idea to fleshed out plot? (no worries if this question it too complicated to answer HAHA)

you’ve asked the worst possible person because I DON’T do outlines at least not for this fic. i’ve basically worked around it by structuring it out of small vinyettes that i can just move around as needed. what i actually do is that i obsess over what i call beats. i think of beats as a scene that creates a change/ripple effect in the story, either in terms of plot or in terms of emotion/charaterization and then i work on the rest with that in mind. i usually have 2 to 5 beats each chapter. for instance, to me the first northern lights scene in jellyfish is an emotional beat. so is the second one when viktor suggests they sleep together and the end when they go to sleep. so if i know i want these 2-3 beats to land i need to work towards and around them, so i have them fighting over survival stuff at the start so when they get to the northern lights the shift from surviving -> living hits. then i set up jayce’s nightmares so that the moment they sleep together hits as well. sometimes i work retroactively because it’s easier to me to ramp up the tension if i’m aware of what i’m ramping up to. (if i had planned this fic better this would be more spaced out - i don’t like showing set up and payoff so close together but it is what it is) i also usually obsess over the ending of each chapter (idk, think of chapter 4, the fight in the snow and the hug) and usually i know the last few lines i want written (chapter 4: “we’re in ionia”) because it’s usually what sticks in your reader’s minds and what sets up the beginning of next chapter. i just realized you might be talking about the entire fic, not just the chaptered structure, but i think it (more or less) still applies. still, the line is covered in jellyfish was NOT designed to be so long and it’s only through sheer luck that people are connecting with it as a character study. i think the key is knowing how to split the narrative beats of the plot so that in each chapter the reader feels like they’re advancing and not stagnant. like no chapter should leave you going “okay so what was the point”? idk if i succeed but i think it’s a good thing to keep in mind!! godspeed with your writing!