#only said next time it’ll be easier

[seungkw1]

ring my bell  — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection. 

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him. 

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything. 

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before. 

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business. 

Easier said than done. 

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him -  wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced. 

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great. 

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time. 

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan. 

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans. 

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room. 

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough. 

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time. 

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass. 

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep. 

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops. 

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.  

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible. 

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. 

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet. 

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you. 

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high. 

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths. 

So much for running into him tomorrow. 

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever. 

You just pray to god he didn't hear you. 

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day. 

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you. 

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button. 

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down. 

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it. 

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating. 

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually. 

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet. 

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you. 

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens. 

“Can I help you with that?” 

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling. 

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault. 

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again. 

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you. 

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt. 

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again. 

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you. 

But your gut is telling you otherwise. 

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands. 

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead. 

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum. 

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up. 

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down. 

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times. 

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger. 

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower. 

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside. 

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor. 

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you. 

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so.  “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body. 

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone. 

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall. 

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway. 

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge. 

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body. 

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door. 

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry. 

Well, only one way to find out. 

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants. 

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake. 

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat. 

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache. 

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in. 

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him. 

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say. 

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously. 

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…” 

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…” 

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room. 

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today. 

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato. 

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused. 

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it. 

He lets out a deep sigh. 

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point. 

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face. 

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths. 

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question. 

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his. 

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips. 

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you. 

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you. 

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours. 

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly. 

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him. 

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster. 

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this. 

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly. 

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size. 

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears. 

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp. 

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath. 

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.” 

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin. 

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.” 

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen. 

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail. 

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.  

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt. 

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face. 

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks. 

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel. 

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover. 

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it. 

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-” 

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound. 

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it. 

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet. 

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently. 

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper. 

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him. 

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile. 

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin. 

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. 

“Would you want to do this again?” 

“Like, right now?” you reply. 

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face. 

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more. 

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously. 

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection. 

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt. 

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks. 

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him. 

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you. 

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you -  slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before. 

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight. 

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle. 

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider. 

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands. 

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again. 

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back. 

“Do you want it to be?” you ask. 

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods. 

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you. 

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[tootiecakes234]

I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.

You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.

One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.

“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.

You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.

He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.

“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”

You look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”

“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”

It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.

You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.

You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.

You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.

“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.

“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”

When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.

“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”

He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”

“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.

“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”

Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.

You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.

“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.

“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”

“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”

“I do not.”, you start to object.

“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.

“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.

“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”

“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”

He smiles at you, “always”

He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.

You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.

To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list in the comments💕

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.3 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff, 2000 rom com vibes, making out, flirting. drinking, swearing, crying, sweet pining Jungkook, Jungkooks past comes up (boooooo), ex situationship thingsss, its a sweet chapter and they make out and I love it, legit the easiest chapter I have written so far ❥word-count: 10.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 3

“And you really believe this guy is going to work for this?” Yoongi said, looking over your notes and layout of the entire plan you had.

“Absolutely sir.” You nod. 

It was the Tuesday following you and Jungkook’s date. You two had gotten some dinner and then you went home. You tried not to let that text ruin your mood but it did bring you down for the meal. You and Jungkook just talked more about what you do and things you liked. Just easy conversation and sharing social media, small things that you could mask your disappointment with and give cheerful and in depth answers too. 

That text sucked to see. It sucked to see that he made this promise to be serious but he was just playing you.To be fair, you didn’t know him. It was your first date and he didn’t owe you anything. It would just make this easier. 

"Already past the first date. You’re jumping in head first," Yoongi mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So, what’s next?"

"The plan is to keep things moving. I only have thirty days, so I wanted to start strong. The first date was just to break the ice. Now, I'm aiming to stay in touch throughout the weeks—get more annoying to make sure I stay on his radar." 

Yoongi chuckled. "And what does annoying entail in this case?"

You grinned, feeling a mischievous spark. "I was thinking some things like being a little too clingy. Getting a bit too personal too soon. Social media stalking, maybe even acting overly sensitive to anything he says about 'dating' or 'us.' Just... trying to inch my way into his daily life, so he can’t quite shake me off. Then next week I will take things to the next step."

Yoongi nodded in approval. "I like it. Thorough and unexpected, just what we want. Let’s round back around next week and check-in. We’ll go over your progress and adjust as needed. You’re off to a good start."

You gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, sir."

With a wave of his hand, “Now go write, be amazing.” Yoongi dismissed you, and you returned to your desk, your mind already spinning with ideas. You were ready to dive into this full force, but there was one small snag, a small but persistent worry. You’d sent Jungkook a quick text yesterday, just a light “good morning” and a note about enjoying the date, but there hadn’t been a reply yet.

It wasn’t a big deal but already not responding to a text after a whole day was not sitting well with you.

Settling yourself down into your chair, that small disappointment from seeing that text on Jungkook's phone was still nagging at you. Your friends had warned you not to get attached, to keep things light, but you’d ignored them. They called this from a million miles away and you, like an idiot, let your guard down like always. 

Well, not this time. This was just a job. No more emotional slip-ups. 

“Damn it, I’m a writer,” you muttered under your breath. “This is just research. He’s just a random guy.”

With renewed determination, you opened your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as you drafted the first section of your article. Reliving the details of your first date, you kept it light and short because this wasn’t about how the first date went great, it’ll be about everything that happens now. You had your plan ready for action.

You were finally hitting a flow, words forming exactly as you wanted, when you heard footsteps stop just outside your cubicle. 

“Special delivery!” Ann, one of the front-desk clerks, appeared with a bright smile, holding a small bouquet. "Someone’s got an admirer!"

She set down a small bouquet of sunflowers. The choice of flower surprised you most of all, you loved sunflowers. They were tied together with a with a purple ribbon and card attached to the end. Opening it, “A little bit of sun for a rainy first date. Thank you for listening to my fish facts. JK.” 

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Ann cooed, lingering a moment to admire the flowers. She shot you a grin before heading back to the front, and you tried to keep your reaction composed.

You couldn't help but feel that small spark of joy, despite yourself, as you read the card. The sunflowers, your favorite, were unexpected and so charming. Tied with a cute ribbon that added a touch of thoughtfulness. You’d never been given flowers by anyone other than your parents and that one college boyfriend. Yet here they were, sent to your office, just for you.

If this had been any other situation, you’d probably be blushing and grinning like an idiot, falling head over heels way too fast. But the reminder of what you knew—what he was likely doing, the kind of guy he really was—kept you grounded. 

As you stared at the bouquet, lost in thought, the telltale squeak of a chair wheeling over caught your attention.

“Wow someone’s special.” Ronnie rolled right next to you. “Are those from who I think they are from?” 

 "Looks like it," You replied casually, flashing her the card. "Just… a little thank you gift."

Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. "Oh, just a thank you gift? The guy sent you your favorite flowers, after only one date. You sure you aren’t already planning your future house decor with him?"

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your laptop, brushing off the teasing. "Maybe," But the flicker of disappointment crept back in. "If he hadn't got that text on our date. Then maybe this would be a sweet gesture. There's no way I'm getting attached to someone who’s probably chatting up another girl at the same time."

Ronnie gave you a skeptical look. "You still haven’t told me what it said, just that you went from mildly hopeful to permanently sour about him. Especially after you begged me and Jin to let you pick another guy before the date even ended."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was… friendly, if you know what I mean."

“Oh, friendly friendly?” she echoed, her voice heavy with implication. She winced sympathetically. "I’m sorry."

You shook your head, swiveling to face her. "No, no. We’re not doing the whole pity party thing. No look at Y/N she got fooled by another asshole again. This is work.  I knew what I was signing up for with this guy, and it’s why I chose him. I can handle it."

Ronnie raised her brows. "Yeah, sure. You sound totally fine."

“I am fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the assignment, right? A totally detached, unbiased observation. Think of me as an objective researcher.”

“Okay Dr. Detachment. How are you going to respond to these?” Ronnie glanced down to the flowers and then back up to you. 

You opened your mouth to answer but paused, glancing at the flowers. You already knew what you wanted to do, but still… you weren’t quite sure how to play it yet. 

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was still buzzing from his own bold move. He and Hoseok were walking down the street on their lunch break, and Hoseok eyed him suspiciously. Jungkook filled him on the details with a little too much spring in his step, never the way Hoseok had ever seen Jungkook act after a date. 

“So… the date went that well, huh?” Hoseok finally asked, giving Jungkook a smirk. “You’re practically skipping.”

“Hey, I am not,” Jungkook grumbled, trying to keep his voice casual as he filled Hoseok in on the date. It had gone smoother than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore that spark of excitement. 

Jungkook had done a little social media stalking when he spent the day with his parents yesterday. You used a sunflower in your bio and in a lot of your posts, so he took a guess that they may have been your favorite flower. It did take him a little tracking down though, since sunflowers were going out of season. 

Hoseok grinned, giving Jungkook an approving nod. “So… flowers and a corny note? You’re going for gold.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m hoping she liked it. She’s into romantic movies and such so I thought it would be a good gesture.” Plus it was a perfect opening note since sending flowers is another classic romantic movie troup. “She should have gotten them by now.” He checked his phone yet again, his screen still frustratingly blank.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, “Does it bother you that she’s not immediately giving you all of her attention.” 

Jungkook snorted, “No.” He paused but the silence between them hung a little too long for Hoseok to be convinced, “Okay maybe a little.” 

Hoseok let out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused grin. "Wow. Didn’t know you were secretly a heartthrob under all that cool indifference. Who are you, and what did you do with Jungkook?"

“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered, fighting a smile as he looked away. “I’m just… giving this a real shot.”

“And you’re stressing out over whether she liked your flowers or not,” Hoseok added, raising an eyebrow. “Must be a real first for you.”

Jungkook shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I just thought I’d make an effort, alright? ” He glanced at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen before he stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Why do I feel like the grand romantic gesture wasn’t entirely about the bet?” Hoseok chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

“It’s not because I’m actually dating her remember?” Jungkook replied, a little too quickly, then caught himself. 

“You know,” Hoseok said, tilting his head, “there’s no law that says you can’t text her first, right? Might even make you seem… interested.”

Jungkook scoffed, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Dude, come on. Desperate is sending $50 sunflowers in November,” Hoseok replied, laughing as Jungkook scowled.

Jungkook sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I just really enjoyed spending time with her. It’s different.”

“So shoot her a text, lover boy,” Hoseok urged, hit Jungkook lightly on the back of the head. “All the smooth moves in the world won’t matter if she doesn’t know you’re into her.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed just as Hoseok delivered his advice, catching him off guard. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen. His eyes lit up, and a grin broke across his face—so wide and boyish that it almost unnerved Hoseok.

“Speak of the devil,” Jungkook muttered, barely containing his excitement.

“Well answer it.” He shoves his shoulder.

 Jungkook fumbles with his phone and steps off to the side to answer, “You’ve reached Sunflowers on the Go. How may I be of service?” 

You humm on the other end of the line in amusement, “So it’s the strangest thing. I got this delivery of sunflowers here on my desk but I don’t remember placing an order.” 

“Hmm, strange indeed,” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Turns out we only deliver to Composure magazine. No one else.”

What Jungkook wasn't aware of is you had him on speaker phone so Ronnie was also able to hear him. She brought her hand to her face at his cheesy responses. You also shook your head at absurdity. 

“Oh, is that so?” you teased. “Well, there was a little card attached… signed by someone named ‘JK.’”

“Yep, that’s the guy. Don’t know him personally, but he seems pretty cool,” Jungkook said, leaning into the joke. Looking over at Hoseok who was drawing hearts in the air around Jungkook, Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Hmmm, I don’t know anyone named ‘JK’. Guess I’ll just have to throw these away then.” You play with the ribbon in your fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s mean!” He protested, laughing. You laughed as well at his protest.

“Okay but seriously how did you know these were my favorite?” You touch one of the petals, sunflowers were definitely out of season so he had to go to some work to find really fresh ones. “Or was it just a lucky guess?”

“I may or may not have noticed a pattern on your socials.” His tone was sheepish and you just shook your head.

“Ah, so you were stalking me.” You nod, you notice Ronnie roll on over back to her desk. Coming back with her phone in hand. She was typing frantically.

“Maybe a little bit.” Jungkook let a beat pass, “I guess more importantly do you like them?” 

“They are very beautiful. Especially for this time of year.” You sigh, the gesture really was sweet. Might be fast for Jungkook to send flowers this early on but still sweet.

Jungkook let out a sigh he han’t realized he had even been holding in, “I do have to confess something. I was hoping this would make an opening for me to invite you to dinner.” He shifted from side to side, “Well I would be making dinner.”

“Inviting me over? Wow, bold move. So soon.” You smile, Ronnie giving you a knowing look and you brushing her off. “Would I have to do anything?”

“I will take care of it all, I need to or ove I can make a mean carbonara,” Hoseok gave Jungkook a look like he had no idea he had any cooking skill. “How about tonight?”

“I have plans tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie, you were going to work on some writing tonight. “How about Thursday?” 

“Perfect. You’re gonna be impressed, I already know it.” Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip. 

“I’m sure I will.” 

With some goodbyes you both hung up the phone. You could suddenly feel your heart racing in your chest and you mentally scolded yourself. You needed to remember none of this was long term. Which Ronnie was taking the lead in reminding you about.

“For someone who claims to be totally normal about all of this, you sure are smitten.” She crossed her arms and eyebrow raised observing you, “He totally knew these would work on you.” 

“I am totally normal about all of this. This is perfect, we are going on a second date and I get to start implementing my plan. Everything is on track.” You say but ash is looking back to her phone, “What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to find his instagram.” She continued typing, not looking back up to you. 

“Oh he doesn’t have one.” You remembered from dinner on Sunday. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to not have one but Ronnie was surprised. 

“Boo, how am I supposed to dig up dirt on him?” Ash slumped down into her chair. You had actually done a little digging of your own the evening before though. 

“Pretty sure that’s my job and I already did. He has twitter but he doesn’t post often. He keeps a pretty low presence online so I wasn’t able to learn much that way.” You sigh, it was actually a little refreshing although it did leave you guessing. Makes it tough to be intrusive in the next steps of your plan. “By the way, can you cry on command?”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow at your request, “I don’t but I think we both know who might.” 

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

Day 5

Thursday arrived, you and Jungkook spent the entire day texting back and forth just talking about whatever came to your minds. You found any excuse to ask him any random question. Send him random things you genuinely thought were funny. He also had something funny to say back or respond with. So you just let that be it, just texting and talking as much as possible. 

Jungkook had spent the night before doing a practice carbonara. Watching some guy on youtube walking him through the steps. It turned out pretty good but he knew he could make a better one tonight. He got really nice ingredients that hopefully would push it over the edge. He really wanted to make a good first impression with his cooking. He had no issue inviting you over so soon after knowing you, he felt really comfortable with you already. 

He hoped it wasn’t too forward, but you didn’t seem to mind. 

He had a bottle of mid tier white wine in his fridge and he also got a red because he wasn’t sure what you would prefer. He also wasn't sure what would pair better with a carbonara. Jungkook dressed his table up all nice, it was nothing special but a candle classes it up a little bit. Classic romantic things. It felt somewhat awkward and made him cringe but also no one else was around to see his effort but you, and you would appreciate it. 

Or at least he hoped you would. 

He then heard a knock from his front door. He thought it was a little early for you to be here but he didn’t mind, he still was making the food and he could pour you a glass while you waited. He trotted to his door, a wide grin on his face as he swung the door open with some gusto, only to have his features fall. 

“Channel?”Jungkook's face twisted into a confused but unamused expression, as she brushed past him into the apartment. “Please, come on in.” He said, his voice clearly sarcastic.

Channel looked like she was dressed for a night out and not for a very cold November evening at that. She had her hair curled and bouncy like it usually was, and the highest heel she could comfortably wear, clicking her way around Jungkook's apartment.

“I want my scarf back,” She had her arms crossed, strolling into the apartment with ease. She had been here enough times to know where everything was. “and since you won’t respond to my calls, here I am in person.”

“Okay, you couldn’t have texted me about this?” Jungkook let his front door close and followed after her through his apartment, as she tried to look under things and around furniture. 

She laughed bitterly, “Last I checked, you’ve been avoiding my texts as well.” She continued her hunt around his space. Jungkook getting a little peeved since he spent a good amount of time trying to make his space look good for your arrival. Your arrival which would be really soon and this was not a good look for a guy as you clocked as ‘unserious’.

"I kind of have a life, you know? I can’t answer every text you send.” Jungkook kept his eyes peeled for the scarf, more than ready for this encounter to end.

“Yeah, right.” Channel’s voice dripped with disbelief as she followed him further into the apartment, her arms crossed. “I could tell Hoseok was covering for you.” She paused mid-sentence, catching sight of the dining table set for two, a soft candle flickering in the center. Her expression turned suspicious. “And… what is that?”

Jungkook looked back to the table and then back to her, acting like it’s always looked like that. “Nothing, now where is that scarf?”

“Your place is so… spotless,” she murmured, her eyes scanning every corner of his living room, taking in the lit lamps, the neatly arranged coffee table, and the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. “Setting a mood, are we?”

“I mean, I clean often. I’m not a slob,” he replied defensively, trying to wave off her assumptions, though he could see she was putting it all together, one detail at a time.

Channel sniffs the air for a moment and then stalks over to the kitchen, “You’re cooking? You don’t cook.”

“Whenever he hung out, cooking really wasn’t a part of the schedule.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, aware that he was pushing her buttons. “I cook all the time.” 

“Oh, I see,” She replied, her tone flat but her eyes flashing. She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “So, who is she, then?” 

Jungkook sighed, not fighting her anymore, “no one, and she is coming over soon, let’s find your scarf so you can leave.” 

But Channel didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms tighter. 

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not brushing this off like that. Nice napkins, a candle? You set a damn table, Jungkook. What is this, some kind of date?” Her voice grew sharper with each word, anger and betrayal clear in her expression.

“That’s not really your business is it?” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, he needed to get her out of here. 

Channel let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not my business? You know what’s funny? All this time, I thought maybe we were building toward something real. And now, I see you’re doing that with someone else?” She scoffed, her face hardening. “What you just didn’t want this with me?”

Her words hung in the air, clear betrayal laced them. Him and Channel only had a sexual relationship, it’s what they agreed upon from the start. Sometime in there Channel developed some feelings for him and after a few months asked if they could take this more seriously. Jungkook wasn’t ready for that kind of step so they ended it all together. So now this all looks really bad. 

Except, he thought, it’s none of her business if he did change his mind. He never lied to her, and he was always very clear that he did not want a relationship. He really didn’t, and this thing with you, although a part of a bet, was something he was dipping his toes into. 

“Channel, that’s not it,” Jungkook said, sighing. “I never lied to you. I really didn’t want a relationship.” He hesitated, then finally admitted, “But I met someone, and…we’re trying things out and it’s brand new. So please leave.”

Channel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising as she spat, “Oh, I get it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking around his place with fresh resentment. “I bet you’ll dump her as soon as you’ve slept together a few more times. Because that’s what you do, Jungkook.”

He clenched his fists, frustrated but trying to stay calm. “You know, I’ve had enough of this,.” he said quietly, finally spotting the scarf stuffed into a seat cushion. He pulled it out, tossing it to her.

She caught it and threw it around her neck with a sneer. “So what is it about her, huh? What makes her so ‘special’ that suddenly you’re willing to commit?” She shot him a glare, stepping closer. “Maybe I should stick around and meet this one-of-a-kind woman. See what all the fuss is about.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, guiding her toward the door. “You’re leaving, now.”

She jerked away from his touch, folding her arms defiantly. “What? Is she coming soon?” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “You don’t want her to know what you’re really like?”

Jungkook let out a slow breath, gathering his patience. “No. I think she would be an adult and actually talk with me about it,” he replied, surprising himself with the honesty in his voice. “And whatever she finds out—that’s for me to tell her and her to decide. So, goodnight, Channel.”

She stared at him, anger simmering as she pulled open the door, glancing back with an icy glare. “Screw you, Jungkook.” With that, she stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.

At the same time she opened the door you were stepping out of the elevator and onto Jungkook’s floor. You spotted a girl storming down the hallway after yelling inside a doorway, as she passed you muttering a quick “Excuse me” without a second glance. You had an uneasy feeling about her, especially as she walked away from the very apartment number Jungkook had given you. You double-checked, confirming the number on your phone with the one she had just exited, and the sinking feeling intensified.

“Jesus Jungkook. At least have some class and spread out your dates so we don’t bump into each other in the hall.” You whisper under your breath, but you still had to go through with this as if you didn’t immediately feel a sense of dread. 

You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. After all, you were here now, and nothing had technically happened to prove your suspicions. So you pushed them down, knocked on the door, and tried to keep your expression neutral, reminding yourself you were maybe a minute early—nothing too crazy.

The door opened after a brief pause, and Jungkook’s face shifted from guarded to bright relief when he saw you standing there. His lips curled into a wide, easy smile, like he was genuinely glad to see you. His hair was a little tousled, his shirt a snug, tucked into jeans that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean frame. He looked relaxed, casually put together, which was somehow infuriatingly charming.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm, stepping aside so you could enter. “Come on in.”

“Hi,” you replied, acting as if nothing felt off. 

You stepped past him, letting your eyes flick around the apartment, taking in the details—the tidy coffee table, a low hum of music playing through the room. He had a nice living room set up around a TV on the wall, the dining setup with an actual candle in the center. He’d put thought into this, that much was obvious. You couldn’t deny it was sweet, even if it left you slightly off-balance, considering what you’d walked past in the hallway moments ago.

“Okay now looking at it now, the candle maybe was a little cheesy.” Jungkook cringed at himself looking at the little set up. You shake your head and wave him off. 

“No, I think it's adorable. You even got a scentless one so it doesn’t cover the smell of the food.” You take a seat at the table, “I’m prepared to be wow’d like you promised me.” 

“I unfortunately got a little bit delayed so I am not quite done yet.” Jungkook was shuffling his way back into the kitchen, “But make yourself at home.”

“Okay.” You smile as he rounds his way back into his kitchen, he watches you get back up and walk around his living space. Almost like he was waiting for approval. Luckily Channel hadn’t trashed the place. 

You took note of all of the little things he chose to have on display, some books, a few polaroid cameras and some polaroid's on the walls, as well as a record collection that lined the side of the living room on some shelves. You thumbed through some of them to see what was available. Impressed with some of his picks, some similar to your own. His place wasn’t terribly big. Classic little bachelor pad. You had noticed he had chosen to keep what you could only assume was his bedroom door closed. 

It was something Jungkook thought way too hard about, if he left it open was it like saying he wanted to sleep with you tonight? Would it be way too forward? Or was closing it just as weird? Was closing it like telling you that he didn’t really want you in his space? He went back and forth and then opted to close it to maybe say he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, although he wouldn’t mind if it did. 

You on the other hand didn’t barely give it a thought other than noticing it. You picked up one of his polaroid cameras and brought it with you. You round your way back to his kitchen and stand off to the side watching him work. He was pretty zoned in on what he was doing, everything was really smelling great. You usually found it pretty hot if a guy could cook well. 

Jungkook took an opportunity to try some of his work and you took a photo right at the moment he took a bite, his eyes widened right at the moment he realized he'd been caught.

The picture came out and you set it down to develop. 

“I’m sure that will be super cute.” You laugh, setting down his camera as well. He laughs and you look over his shoulder to see how close he is to being done.

“Coming to inspect my work?” Jungkook glances to his side, seeing you peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He was almost done cooking. 

“Maybe.” You tease, “I’m a sucker for people who can cook. I’m just… okay at it.” 

“Well,” Jungkook stops what he is doing and reaches for a drawer next to him pulling out a fork and twirling some of the noodles onto it. Then holding the fork out to you. “I’m ready for your final score.”

You paused. Debating if you should eat the food off the fork or if you should take the fork. Would it send the wrong message if you ate off it? Or was that exactly what he was doing? The fork wasn’t very close to your mouth but not crazy far. You decided to just take the fork from him and take the bite. 

It ended up being really good carbonara. 

“Oh my god.” You smile chewing, “it’s really fucking good. Ten out of ten.” 

Jungkook did a small fist pump to himself, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth hiding a smile. “I’ll admit, I did a practice run yesterday and it was just okay but I’m glad this one is good.” Jungkook then taking a bite of it himself with another fork. Jungkook upon tasting his own food smacking his own forehead and leaning back. 

Causing you to laugh at his dramatic reaction. 

You glanced at the polaroid on the counter picking it up to see if it had developed yet, it wasn’t fully done but you could see mostly what the picture would look like. You showed it to Jungkook and he smiled, “Ten out of ten picture. Best one of me yet.” 

You looked at it and he did look like a deer caught in the headlights but it was funny, you set it down. 

“I’ll admit I’m wowed, to be fair I’ve only had carbonara like one other time.” You lean against one of his kitchen counters watching him as he plates the pasta for the two of you.

“I’ll still take the high praise. Now, should we do a white or a red wine?” 

“Hmm, a red works better with this I think.” You nod. 

Jungkook tells you where you can find his bottle opener and some glasses. You managed to get the cork screw into the cork but seem to be lacking the ability to actually pull the cork out of the bottle. Jungkook finds some amusement in watching your struggle but you persist. You’ve opened plenty of wine bottles in the past, this shouldn’t be difficult. 

“Having some trouble?” Jungkook watched you try and fail to pull the cork out a third time.

“Absolutely not. The cork and I are just having a disagreement.” You shake off your hand a few times and then get a better grip on the screw pulling upward as best you can. With some pathetic struggle, you really swear you can feel the cork moving. You let out a sigh as you let it go again. 

“May I?” 

“I swear I’m not that weak.” This honestly was just embarrassing at this point, so much so you have to face away from Jungkook at your next attempt. 

You make one final grip on the corkscrew and twist and tug, finally the corkscrew and cork pop free. Not before your hand comes straight, hard and fast, into your own face.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook’s face changes as he sees you basically punch your own face. “Are you okay?” 

You did dizzy yourself slightly but you set the bottle down. Feeling your face, hoping you hadn’t broken your nose although it certainly would be bruised or sore at least, “Okay maybe I should never open wine ever again.” 

Your nose than began to pulse with pain, this definitely wasn’t a part of your plan for sure. you covered it with one of your hands but Jungkook pulled it away. “Here let me look at it.”

“Please tell me it’s not bleeding.” You groan, and Jungkook places his hands on both of your cheeks looking at it. You match his face and he looks genuinely concerned. 

“Well, I’m not a doctor but you’re still pretty cute.” He then smiles and rubs one of his thumbs on your cheek. “That’s my professional assessment anyways.”

“Okay, but it still really hurts,” You say, letting your own hands rest on his wrists. 

“Hey, it’s probably just a bit sore—no blood, no bruise.” He gently tilts your head from side to side in a silly, exaggerated inspection that makes you giggle. 

It’s quiet between you both for a moment, Jungkook still holding your face. He just looks over your face for a moment, your nose was red but it was probably going to be okay. He had hurt his own nose a few times to know if it was broken. 

Jungkook’s hands still on your cheeks, eyes meeting as he studies your face. It’s easy to get lost in the warmth of his gaze and how close he is. A little too easy. For a second, you find yourself softening, tempted by the thought of leaning in and just letting yourself enjoy this. But then, just in time, you snap back to reality, realizing you can use this little mishap to your advantage. This damage to your nose might have actually opened up a window for what you had been working yourself up too.

You pull your face away from Jungkook and shake your head, breathing in a heavy breath. Jungkook looked a little confused but then after a moment you were crying. You were crying? 

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, “I was just teasing you.” 

You wave your hands in a frantic show, your voice cracking just a little. “No, no, it’s not you. It’s just….” You let out a little sob. “I’m just so clumsy! And you made this beautiful dinner, and I’ve totally ruined it!”

Jungkook looks utterly bewildered now, glancing around as if the answer to your sudden breakdown might be hiding in his kitchen cabinets. “Really, I promise, you didn’t mess anything up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, almost nervously.

“Ugh, I can't believe this. I’m totally ruining the mood.” You wipe your tears away. 

It was a good little performance. One that was planned.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

The evening before.

Day 04

“The art of crying on command.” Here you were again. Ronnie sitting next to you. Jin pacing back and forth with his notepad once again. Unfortunately for you, Jin was the person to have expertise on this subject being an acting teacher. 

“Okay I already regret this.” You try to stand up but Ronnie pulls you back down onto Jin’s couch. 

“This will help you!” Ronnie protested and leaned on you once you were settled back in. “This can be a part of your over dramatic persona you use.” 

“Exactly! It gives you another tool in the toolbox for the charade you signed up for!” Jin pointed at you with his pen and waving it around. 

“Fine, continue.” You wave for him to go on and Jin grins. 

“Thank you! Now, there are three main techniques for crying on command,” he begins, pacing dramatically. “Some people can just…do it. They snap their fingers and—bam! Tears.” He snaps his fingers for effect. “Others need to go to a sad memory. Something personal and emotional, something that really tugs at the heartstrings. And then, of course, some people have to resort to…ahem, creative methods. Pepper in the sinuses, maybe a little poke to the eye…”

“Let’s please avoid self-injury,” you interrupt dryly, giving him a look.

“Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics and see if you’re a natural,” Jin says, jotting a note on his pad. “Close your eyes, focus, and let’s see if you can will the tears into existence.”

You sit up straight, trying your best to summon tears on command, forcing your eyes to feel…sad? Your face contorts into what you hope is a tearful expression, but as you blink, nothing happens. Your eyes are as dry as ever.

“Nothing?” Jin sighs and makes a dramatic strike-through on his notepad, looking deeply disappointed.

“Yeah, sorry,” You mutter. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Jin strikes something out on his notepad and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Cannot cry on command. So let’s try a memory, or is there a movie scene you can’t think about because it gets you teared up?” 

You sit and think, you have some sad memories from your childhood that you bring to the front of your mind. Reminiscing on them, although some things are sad or bittersweet, nothing tear jerking. 

“Dry.” Ronnie leans over and looks closely in your eyes, so much so you have to shove her face away from you. 

“Dry.” Jin repeats and writes on his notepad. 

“Maybe try going to the dark place?” Ronnie snaps and looks at you. “You always get really teary eyed when you think about dying alone.”

“Okay rude.” You sigh, it wasn’t untrue. Whenever you came back from dates that were unsuccessful or you wasted your time on someone who just wanted something casual you found yourself going to, what you and Ronnie have deemed, the dark place. “I don’t like thinking about that.” 

“It’s for science!” Ronnie cheers, throwing her arms up like it's supposed to make it more fun or something. 

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch.  “I don’t know if this is such a great idea, honestly. When I start spiraling about my love life, it’s not exactly…mild.” You look down, already feeling a little prick of sadness starting to stir.

Jin comes and squats in front of you, “Well then just go to the edge of it and don’t think about the whole picture. What about dying alone usually gets you crying?” 

You think for a second, and finally, the words come out quietly. “I guess… I cry when I start thinking that maybe I won’t ever find someone who’s…just right for me.”

Ronnie lets out a soft “aww” and nudges you gently.

You let yourself feel it for a moment—the uncertainty, the nagging doubt that, maybe, you’ll keep hitting dead ends. And with that, you feel a familiar, bittersweet ache starting to well up.

Jin nods approvingly, seeing a slight glimmer in your eyes. “Excellent,” he says, jotting down, potential crying trigger identified.

The vulnerability hangs in the air, and you let yourself lean into it a little. Lately, it felt harder and harder to keep going on dates, to believe that love might work out someday. You always seemed to be either too much or not enough—loving too deeply, too slowly, too intensely. It left you feeling drained, to the point where dating felt less like romance and more like a chore.

But with Jungkook, for once, you’d felt...hopeful. Like there was someone who genuinely wanted to share a moment, who put effort into making sure you had a good time. As unintentional as it was, you’d started to feel a little spark, considering the circumstances of your forced meeting. But as soon as you’d started to believe it, you reminded yourself it was all part of the act. You couldn’t let yourself actually believe it. You got your hopes up again, and they were ripped out from under you… again. 

So you had slowly felt as time went on, you were losing sight of finding the one. 

Then without even realizing it, you had a few stray tears fall from your eyes. 

“Boom!” Jin erupted and sprang to his feet, “We have tears!”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

You gripped onto that feeling you let it force a few more tears out of your eyes. Unfortunately you did not avoid the personal injury part of the tears. So this was going really well for you. 

You take a shaky breath, letting a few more tears roll down, making sure the sniffle that follows sounds especially pitiful. “Maybe I should just go home,” you say, voice wavering. “This along with my day… it’s all just been too much. You probably think I’m completely insane.”

You manage to start walking toward the door. Jungkook then panics for a moment, how did we go from laughing at you injuring your nose to crying and saying you’re going home? He felt like he had jumped three steps or something. You start toward the front door but Jungkook stepped around you, stopping you. 

“Wait what?” Jungkook looked confused, “How did we get here? I don’t want you to leave.”

You sniff even louder, adding just the right amount of snotty dramatics. “No, I should. You barely know me, and here I am—an emotional wreck in your kitchen. It’s… it’s too much.”

“And? You just hit yourself in the nose really hard. I would be a little embarrassed and want to leave too.” Jungkook places a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Besides isn't the whole point of going on dates to get to know each other better?”

“I guess.” You wipe your face again, “I don’t know… I didn’t mean to just… fall apart like this.”

Jungkook sighs a little relieved, that could have spiraled further. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Well it’s still early, haven’t had a chance to go full blown crazy yet.” Which gets a laugh out of both you and Jungkook. 

“Well I can deal with that I think.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Besides, food is still good. Wine is still out and last I checked a bruised nose doesn’t stop you from eating.” 

“Wait, is it actually bruising?” You reflexively go up to touch it, definitely tender to the touch and jungkook chuckles a little. 

“I’m teasing. It’s only a little red.” He takes your hand pulls you back into his apartment, with a little reluctance from you. “Stay, at least for a little while. I’m not going to let you walk out of here feeling like this.”

You blink up at him, playing up a hint of uncertainty, but inside, you’re genuinely a little taken aback. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” He tilts his head to the side trying to meet your eyes, that had been darting everywhere else out of real embarrassment. “Look, I don’t care if you cry, I’m the biggest cry baby I know!”

You manage a small, hesitant smile, as if he’s starting to get through to you. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Jungkook scoffs, feigning insult. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. Those ‘lost puppy finds his way home’ commercials? I’m done. I’m over here pretending there’s dust in my eyes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Okay, maybe I believe you… just a little.”

“There we go!” He looks genuinely pleased, his expression softening as he sees you relax. “So, if I’m willing to admit my crybaby tendencies, it’s only fair you stick around for dinner, right?” He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of your answer. 

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You say it with an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the small spark of mischief hidden behind your agreement. It earns you a relieved, borderline triumphant smile from Jungkook.

“Phew! You’re sparing me from a whole night of wondering if my cooking scared you off for good.” He grins, his dramatic sigh punctuating his relief.

“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes, feeling the perfect opening for a light jab. “If anything, the food is what convinced me to stay.”

Jungkook then serves dinner for the both of you. You both fall into easy conversation as you eat, he really did do a great job with the food. He was very considerate of making sure you needed anything else or pouring more wine when you wanted it. As well as making you laugh at almost every single turn. You really do get it why he got girls to go home with him so easily, between this and your first date the amount of confidence and charm that exudes from him is palpable in the air. 

Jungkook would never show it but his lack of practice with dating has actually made this date and your last the most nervous he as been in a while. Jungkook’s mind is racing, carefully cataloging every response you make, every laugh, every nod. He wants—needs—this to go well, not just because he’d prefer to win $300 rather than lose it, but because, in his gut, he actually likes seeing you here, across from him. He catches himself wondering if he’s oversharing when he starts a story, or if he’s going on too long when he recounts his last trip. When you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, he relaxes a bit, but he still can’t quite shake that uncertainty. 

You decided no more theatrics for the evening and let this play out naturally, how you would play out any other evening. Anything else would tip him off that maybe you were doing this on purpose. 

After a while the two of you had moved into the living room, you had been flipping through his records again, you didn’t take a chance to look at them all earlier. He had a decent collection for sure so you got a good sense of the type of music he liked. You both had a few glasses of wine now and so the conversation had turned more and more flirtatious. 

Noting the variety of music—jazz, a little classic rock, some alternative stuff. “You’ve got a good taste,” you say, glancing back at him. “This one,” you pull a record out with a slight smirk, “definitely says something about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He grins, leaning on the side of his couch as he watches you move around his shelves. “And what exactly does it say?”

You tilt your head, pretending to give it serious thought. “That you’re trying really hard to be cool. Just edgy enough.”

He laughs, though you notice he flushes slightly, brushing off your joke with a casual shrug. “Hey, everyone needs a little mystery. Or at least…a halfway-decent record collection.”

“Is that what you’re hiding?” you tease. “A mysterious vinyl collection? Or is it just your immense amount of fish facts?”

“Well, you’ll have to stick around to find out.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he immediately kicks himself. It feels too... eager, a bit too close to something genuine. But he manages to recover, putting on a self-assured smile. “Not everyone gets to see my hidden jazz albums.”

You laugh, setting the record back and looking at him with a raised brow. “Guess I’ll have to consider myself lucky, then.” Finding a spot back on the couch with him. 

Jungkook shifted in his spot so his body was completely facing you now. With the alcohol having set in, his eyes were a little droopy and he was smiling but he looked boyish. He found the more he was learning about you the more he felt fine with telling you things about himself. 

“You look tired.” You poke his forehead. “Maybe I really should go.” 

“It’s barely even late.” Jungkook takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m not tired at all.” 

“Your eyes tell a different story.” You laugh, leaning your head against the back of his couch. 

“Well what else are they saying?” He smirks, finding any reason to get a compliment from you. 

You stare at them for a minute, you were trying to come up with something clever. “Well if I am translating this right… I can’t handle my wine.”

You laugh and Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Wow how did you know?” 

“I have a thing for reading people.” You shrug. “What do mine say?”

He leans in really close looking between them. “Wow this guy is so hot and charming I really want to kiss him again,” Jungkook then gasps dramatically leaning away. “That’s scandalous, Y/N.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and get up from the couch trying to leave, Jungkook's hand pulling you back to standing in front of him. “You’re really full of yourself.”

“I’d like to think just a healthy amount.” He grins, Jungkook then places one of his hands on the back of your thigh. The warmth of his hand sends a shiver up your spine, but you do your best to keep your cool, not letting him see just how much his touch is affecting you.

You scoff with a half smile, “We’ll see about that.” 

Jungkooks grin widens sitting forward on his couch, both of his hands finding their way to your hips. Tracing small circles with his thumbs, making it impossible for you to think. The way he looks at you—intense, unflinching, like he’s trying to figure you out—has you second-guessing your plans  all over again, just for a second. This is what makes this hard, because the way he looks at you makes you believe every single word.

Many guys before have looked at you like this and you always fall for it, you always let yourself go for it. 

It’s a little difficult to remember that right now though, your mind clouded by the wine. 

You glance down to his lap for a moment then back up to his eyes that haven’t left yours. “Can I?” 

Jungkook just nods, allowing you to take your place on his lap. Lifting your legs to either side of his hips. Jungkook really was not intending for this night to go this way but he wasn’t complaining if it had. He found you incredibly hot and would do whatever you wanted. His hands stayed planted on your hips as you found what felt comfortable. 

“You’re pretty.” He smiles boyishly, he really did find you gorgeous and would tell you again and again if it wouldn’t be weird. The compliment makes you blush and hum. 

“You’re pretty too.” You lace your arms around his neck. Both of your faces coming so close together now. Breathes intermingling for a moment, asking the same question. “You were right though.” 

“About what?”

“I do want to kiss you again.” You catch the slight hitch in Jungkook's breath at your words, the way his fingers tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your heart races. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, searching your face as though he’s almost afraid this moment might slip away.

“I’m not one to protest.” Jungkook swallows for a moment, before you took no time to close the distance between you. Pressing your lips against his soft but certain. Jungkook immediately responds tilting his head to deepen it. One of Jungkook's hands sliding up your back to bring you closer to him. The moment makes you forget everything else, as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink into it, into the surprising tenderness of his touch, the quiet intensity of his kiss. You move your hands to cup his face, relishing in how warm you are now. You felt your whole entire body heat up, and small wetness in between your legs. Oh this was not good, you cannot sleep with him this soon. 

Oh he probably knew exactly what he was doing though.

He would know exactly where to touch you and exactly how to make you moan and you had very little issues with wanting to let him do that. It would be so worth it, it would be so good. Except it cannot go past this, for your sanity at least. You needed to cut this off somehow, expect you kind of lead the night here. His tongue in your mouth was making it incredibly difficult to be logical. You could feel him probably already getting a semi and you really could not stop thinking about grinding on him. 

You needed to stop though. Because this is a great opportunity to drive in that wedge between the two of you. One more way to mess this situation ship up, but not ruin it completely.

As you pull away from him, leaving his lap, you mutter, “Okay… Goodnight.” You force yourself to stand, feigning nonchalance as you gather your things, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn back around. Jungkook is left blinking at you, visibly caught off guard, his hands awkwardly suspended in the air where your hips just were. He clears his throat, collecting himself as he scrambles to follow you.

Clearing his throat. “Hey… um woah… was that not good or whatever?” 

You pick up some of your stuff into you arm, “It was it was good. It was great.” 

Oh god it was great, he was a really good kisser and your whole body was screaming at you to go back but you fought through. 

Jungkook was confused by your answer and shook his head, as he continued to follow you, “Did… did I misread something? Because I was getting a vibe.”

You glance over your shoulder and manage to flash a casual smile. “No, you didn’t misread anything. I just… don’t usually sleep with someone on the second date. Kind of a rule.” You bite your lip, keeping the truth of it hidden.

“Oh.” Jungkook nods, a look of relief mixed with mild confusion crossing his face as he adjusts his shirt. “Right, totally. Cool cool cool. That’s more than okay and Makes sense, makes sense… you should have said something.”

“It’s a bit of a mood killer to say ‘hey, by the way, you’re not getting any,’ don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, suppressing a grin.

You gather your things, amused by his honesty, and start toward the door. Jungkook trails behind you, letting out a small puff of air as he stares at the floor. Then, after a beat, he glances up with a sly grin. “So… just out of curiosity, not trying to be weird or anything, but what date number are we talking here? Fourth, fifth…?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, knowing full well he has no idea you’re just messing with him. “Higher.”

He frowns, looking genuinely curious now. “Sixth?”

“Nope.”

“Seventh?” He leans in closer, eyes narrowed like he’s reading the answer off your face.

“Higher.”

“Okay, when do you usually?” 

You cross your arms, “Twelfth.” 

Jungkook’s face barely changes, but you can see his jaw tighten just a little as he processes this. “Twelve… dates,” he repeats slowly, nodding as if he’s mentally mapping it out. “I mean, sure. That’s totally reasonable. Not a problem.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised at his lack of pushback.

Yeah.” He shrugs, putting on a confident smile. “Guess I just have to plan ten more killer dates.”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see them.” Jungkook then opens the front door for you. 

“You're going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?” He watches you slowly step out the door with a wide grin on your face. He finds it cute and playful, he could tell you liked the chase. 

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You say in a sing song voice, giving him a flirtatious wave as you walk up the hallway to his elevator. 

Before you could get too far Jungkook decided to leave with just one last thing. Trotting up the hallway so he could catch you, taking your wrist and stopping you. “One last thing.” 

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek and then kisses you. It surprises you but you welcome him, its one of those kisses that is so passionate and it makes your knees want to buckle out from under you in response. He uses just a little bit of  tongue to send a shiver through your whole body, his hand warm against your cheek as he continues to kiss you just long enough to make you lose track of the hallway, the elevator, and everything else. 

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are twinkling with that trademark cockiness, but there’s something softer underneath, something that makes your heart do an unwelcome little flip. He grins, his hand lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer before letting go. “Goodnight.”

He goes back into his apartment as you retreat to the elevator. As you ride down, you let out a shaky breath, trying to process what just happened, and trying even harder to remind yourself why you’re supposed to be making him miserable. But as your lips still tingle from his kiss, you’re the one who is being thrown off balance now. This was continuing to prove to be difficult.

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Day 6

Jungkook is floating on air as he gets through his next work day. So much so Hoseok has taken notice of Jungkook's change in attitude. Really his whole attitude had been different all week. Not that he was particularly grumpy before or even usually in a bad mood, but he was in a good mood. 

It was Friday night, and the familiar hum of the weekend buzzed in the air as Jimin and Taehyung once again convinced Jungkook and Hoseok to come out for a night of fun. Jungkook had been hesitant, his thoughts lingering on you. He’d been so busy lately, and while the dates had been great, there was something about tonight that made him want to see what plans you had before fully committing to the night out. But eventually, he decided he should just go—time with his friends, after all, was good too. Plus, there was that whole bet to think about, and he had a chance to subtly show Jimin and Taehyung how smoothly things were going with you.

When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the booth, they were greeted with their usual boisterous energy. Taehyung raised his glass, grinning widely. “Look who it is!” he said, motioning to the empty seats. As they sat down, the drinks flowed easily, and the conversation began to buzz.

However, Jimin and Taehyung had something else on their minds—Jungkook’s unusually good mood. While their conversation about random topics picked up, they were both trying to pinpoint exactly what had changed in him.

“So,” Jimin leaned forward, his voice a bit more teasing than usual, “what’s going on with you tonight? You’ve been, like, way too chill. It’s freaking me out.”

Jungkook paused for a moment, a little taken aback by the sudden observation. “What do you mean?”

Jimin gestured at him with a mock-serious face, “You're usually the one trying to take the night to the next level. Trying to make things more interesting. Tonight, you're just sitting here, all calm, looking like you’re, I don’t know, at peace or something?”

Taehyung chuckled at the thought, leaning in with a grin. “Yeah, what happened to the Jungkook who was out here doing whatever it took to keep things fun and exciting? You usually make sure the whole night has a direction. Right now, you’re, like... engaged in our conversation about cyber-security. That’s... not you.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He knew his friends had caught on to something, but they didn’t know why he was acting different. “I’m just… having a good day,” he said, his voice light and casual. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Hoseok snorted next to him and Jungkook gave him a side eye. 

“You definitely would have gotten someone’s number by now but your eyes have been glued on us or on your phone this whole time.” Taehyung added on, which was usually true but Jungkook was glued to his phone. Hoping maybe he would see another text from you, secretly. Casually, in a totally normal way. 

“So what gives?” Jimin pokes Jungkook in the arm. 

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shrugged and took a sip of his drink. 

Hoseok rolled his eyes, “It’s Y/N. The girl you set him up with for this stupid bet.” 

“Oh.” It all clicked into place for the both of them but it was still weird, “She totally see through your act yet?” 

Jungkook was caught off guard, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Actually,” he began, his voice softening, “no. We had a really nice date last night. There is nothing to see through, I’ve been completely genuine.”

“Oh, really?” Jimin raised a skeptical eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

Hoseok, who had been mostly observing, finally chimed in with a sigh. “He’s been in such a good mood about it all day, I’ve actually been avoiding him.”

Jungkook shot him a glare, nudging his arm. “So that’s why you were dodging me earlier?”

Hoseok shrugged, chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just couldn’t listen to you go on about Y/N again today.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jimin and Taehyung. “You guys are acting like it’s such a big deal. It’s just… going well.”

Taehyung raised a skeptical brow, his tone a bit annoyed. “So, you’re hitting it off?”

Jungkook smirked, raising his glass. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

That earned a laugh from Jimin and Taehyung. “Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head.

“All I’m saying,” Jungkook replied, his smirk widening, “is you two better get your wallets ready. In 24 days, you’re going to owe me big time.”

With a final grin, Jungkook set his glass down and excused himself, heading off to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jimin leaned closer to Hoseok, lowering his voice. “Okay, is it actually going well, or is he just messing with us?”

Hoseok took a sip of his drink, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment before answering. “All I’ll say is… he sent flowers.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped, and Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Flowers?” They exchanged looks of disbelief, struggling to picture Jungkook—who hadn’t done more than text after a night out for years—sending flowers.

“What kind?” Taehyung asked, still dubious. “If they were just roses, it might’ve been for show.”

Hoseok gave an exasperated look. “Sunflowers. They’re her favorite.”

Jimin blinked in disbelief, his jaw still halfway dropped as he processed Hoseok's words. “Sunflowers?” he repeated, as if the specific flower choice made it even more surreal. “You’re telling me Jungkook not only sent flowers but remembered her favorite kind?”

Hoseok nodded, his expression one of mild amusement. “It’s like he’s on some kind of mission. Didn’t even blink when he mentioned it either—used it as his way to get the second date they had this week.”

Taehyung shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I don’t know who this new Jungkook is, but he’s full of surprises. Sunflowers? That’s not just impressive; that’s borderline romantic.”

“Borderline?” Jimin laughed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He’s gone full-on romance novel, and for someone he’s been seeing for, what, a week? This has to be the longest he’s been interested in anyone, like, ever.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, chewing on his lip as he processed the surprising information. “Damn. This is serious.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok said with a small smile, finding some pride in a changed Jungkook. “So he’s not wrong when he says you guys are going to owe him. He’s actually putting in the effort.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look, stunned but slightly impressed. Watching Jungkook send flowers, remember favorites, and put his best foot forward was new—and honestly? They both knew they might just end up eating their own words. Which made them think, was there a way for them to slow this down, make it come to a halt?

It wasn’t an insane amount of money for either of them to lose, but it was much more entertaining to see Jungkook lose. Was there something they could do to mess this up but in a non asshole way?

If they didn’t, Jungkook was going to win the bet, but it had already become much more than a bet at this point for him.

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[lfghughes]

Get You Alone ft. Quinn Hughes

One day alone together was hard to get. You were used to it by now after being with Quinn for over a year but it didn’t get easier. Today was the first day in a long while that he had no plans and you had no plans. Yet you couldn’t help but groan at his next set of words. “An hour max, come on. You can come with me, it’ll be fun.”

Well you weren’t going to say no to going with him because that defeated the purpose of hanging out together but you didn’t really want to watch Quinn practice on a day he didn’t even have to practice. But he was always striving to be better so even when it wasn’t mandatory and no one else was going, he would be there in an empty practice rink.

That’s exactly how you ended up here with Quinn tying up your laces for you. It wasn’t too bad, it was still just the two of you and he made it at least fun even if you couldn’t fully participate like a teammate could. But that all came to a quick end when some of his teammates came striding in with grins on their faces. “Hughesy boy.” They cheered and just like that you knew you lost your boyfriend. 

Now this not so serious practice was turning into exactly that and you were just a bystander but just an hour, that’s it. As the time was cutting close Quinn skated up to you “Is it cool if we stay just a little longer? Boys wanna practice some more shots.” He asked but you knew it wasn’t really a question. “Quinn, you said an hour. This is the only day we really have together and I’m hungry.” You knew you were being bratty but you rarely ever complained to him about anything he did. 

“We can get lunch later, the boys were saying..” “Nope, no.” You quickly stopped him from finishing his sentence which caused his eyebrows to furrow. “Come on don’t be like that.” He told you and you raised your brows at him. “I’m not having this argument right now, I’m gonna take the car and get lunch. Call me when you finally have some time.”

Dramatic exit for the win as you turned to leave. Except suddenly your motion was stopped by something looping around you and now you were going backwards. “What the..?” You said as you looked down at the hockey stick that was pulling you back. “Nope, you don’t leave angry that’s our thing.” Quinn pointed out as he turned you around to face him.

As much as you hated to admit it right now, that whole movement was hot. But again you weren’t going to admit that when you were supposed to be angry. “Fifteen more minutes and then we’ll go get lunch wherever you want. Just you and me.” He promised and his blue eyes were shining so bright in this lighting. “I hate you sometimes but fine, yes because you have a stupidly pretty face.” You told him and a grin grew on his lips as he pressed a quick peck to yours. “Love you.”

[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. 

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Room for two (NSFW)

Fred Weasley x fem reader x George Weasley

Fred and y/n have been dating for a whole but she still struggles to tell her boyfriend and his brother apart. The twins (being the horny, mischievous fuckers they are) decide to use that to their advantage and have a little fun. What can I say, Fred likes to watch…

TW: nsfw (under 16’s dni), mean dom Fred, mean dom George, degradation, no incest, sharing, voyeurism, spanking, slight bondage, no prep (evil boys 😏), unprotected sex, masturbation (male), face smacking, cum swallowing. I think that's everything.

A/N: This is not only my first Weasley fic, but also my first time writing smut, yay! Italic bold speech is a flashback except for the word ‘Kitten’. Read and it’ll make more sense lol.

1.4K words

“C’mon love, me and Georgie have missed you. Spend the weekend with us above the shop, it’ll be fun”

When the brilliant Fred Weasley invites you to stay with him and his brother above their shop in Diagon Alley, there’s really no option other than yes. You had been dating him for nearly three years and you loved him more than anything else in the world. A nice, quiet weekend with the Weasley twins would do you some good…

…but Fred had other plans.

____________________________________________

You arrived on Friday and walked into the shop, seeing one of the ginger haired twins behind the counter and the other stocking a shelf nearby, neither one aware of your presence. Fuck, which one was which? Maybe if you let them notice you first, you'd be able to tell. You pottered around the shop, browsing the shelves of different potions and colourful boxes containing all kinds of mischief, trying to attract the attention of the twin stocking the shelf. He looked up with a smirk and instantly knew what you were up to, and he didn't plan on revealing who he was just yet. He knew that Fred would be alright with this, they had discussed it the night before. He can still remember Fred’s words clear as day:

“She’ll love every minute of it, she can be a needy little slut when you give her what she wants”

“I've seen how she looks at you, she wants us both but she likes to act all innocent and pretend that she doesn't”

“You can have her for the night, as long as I get to watch. She’s my dirty little whore after all”

The twin in front of you simply smirked, knowing that with one simple nickname, you’d think he was your loving boyfriend. Getting you into his bed would be easier than Fred said it would be.

“Go on up, Kitten, and wait for me on the bed”

George smirked at how fast you moved up the stairs to the flat above the shop. He finished stocking the shelves before shooting Fred a wink and following you up. Fred had been watching everything. This was his idea in the first place, and he wasn't going to miss a single thing. You always acted so innocent when he talked about George, but he knew how you felt. He could practically see the way your mouth watered when you would watch them at Quidditch practice. He could see the way you rubbed your legs together when they sat either side of you in the common room. Now that you had all graduated, he had promised George a turn with you.

As soon as the shop shut and all of the customers had left, he would go upstairs and enjoy the show.

____________________________________________

You didn't even have time to enter Fred’s room and get undressed before George had come up behind you, gripping your waist tightly and sucking harshly on your neck. His right hand trailed up, practically ripping the buttons apart on your dress to reveal your bra covered tits beneath. He would never get sick of looking at them. When he’d sit next to you and look down your shirt, knowing that all of your attention was on Fred. He couldn’t help himself. George ripped off your bra, groping your bare tits harshly. He listened in on every gasp, every moan, and every whimper that you made, only becoming rougher as he pinched and tugged on your nipples.

“F..Fuck..Freddie…”

George chuckled darkly and tore your dress off, followed by your soaked panties. He pushed you onto the bed, smirking mischievously at the way your legs opened wide, your glistening cunt on full display for him. Poor little slut, George thought, Getting this turned on for her boyfriend's brother.

“On your hands and knees, now”

George growled, pushing his suit trousers down and getting behind you. He ran his hands over your ass before bringing his hand down swiftly, making you yelp from the stinging sensation. But he didn’t care, George seemed transfixed by the way your ass jiggled and the skin turned bright red. He kept spanking each cheek, making sure to leave handprints and a painful memory whenever you sat down.

“Freddie, Please…been so good, please fuck me. Need you so badly” you whined, your thighs rubbing together to give your needy clit friction.

“You’re such a desperate, whiney little slut. Bet you’d love nothing more than my cock deep inside of your slutty cunt. Keep begging, beautiful, let me hear how much you need me” George started stroking his cock to your pleas. He’d give you what you wanted eventually, he’d been dreaming of your tight pussy ever since his brother introduced you to the family. The younger twin suddenly had an idea and pulled your arms behind your back, tying them securely together with his tie.

He gripped your joined arms tightly and rammed his cock inside your wet pussy. The stretch made you yelp in pain and squirm in a (not so) desperate attempt to flee, but George only held you tighter, a cruel pout on his lips.

“Thought this is what you wanted, little love. Don't tell me you can't be a good girl for me now”

His cock was so deep, hitting that spongy spot that made you clench around him and shut your eyes tight. His hands gripped your skin with a bruising force, you were so close…

“Well, well, well, look who’s enjoying themselves” an identical voice quipped, but it wasn't from above you, it came from the doorway.

The older Weasley twin stalked close, making you squirm in embarrassment of being caught by your boyfriend's brother. But he only knelt in front of you with a devilish smirk.

“Guess my little kitten really is a slut for it, huh?”

Fuck

Your eyes widened as everything seemed to click into place. The man in front of you was your boyfriend, the man with his cock pressing deep inside of you was his younger twin brother. A pout spread across your lips, thinking that Fred was mad at you for being underneath George. But Fred simply got up and sat in the chair across from the foot of the bed, getting comfortable but exposing his hard cock.

“Go on Kitten, show Georgie just what a little slut you are. Put on a show for us”

George smirked and snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath from your lungs. He started his brutal pace that rubbed your insides raw. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you buried your head into the soft sheets beneath you. But George wasn't having any of that. He pulled you up by your hair, your back pressing against his chest, causing his cock to somehow push deeper into your cunt. You hissed at the sting from your scalp.

“Such a spoiled brat. Doesn't even say thank you for her lovely surprise” George spat next to your ear, his other hand coming up to lightly smack your face. “What do you say, slut?”

“Thank you, Freddie…Feels s..so good”. Your moans got louder with every word.

Fred pumped his cock, trying to match the pace his brother had set so that he could pretend that he was the one fucking you. But he knew you’d need more, you were his insatiable little slut. Fred simply looked into your desperate eyes and grunted through gritted teeth…

“Cum for me, Kitten”

At his command, you let the blinding pleasure take over your entire body. Your velvety walls clench around George, pushing him over the edge too. You could feel his cum spurt deep inside of you, staining your walls. He let go of your hair and you dropped forward onto the mattress. Fred got up and walked over to your fucked out body and you immediately opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, smiling as you felt his warm, salty sweet cum hit your tongue and lips. You swallowed all that he had given you and licked your lips, collecting every last drop. Fred stroked your hair softly.

“My turn, kitten”

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

Red Lights - Lost the Breakup Part 1

Ex!Lando Norris x Reader, Oscar Piastri x reader

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

A/n: Hiiii guess who's back pookies, I totally not have an anatomy paper to write and procrastinated by writing this

Next Part

“Being in a relationship while being in F1 is exhausting.. That could just be me though. “

Lando  said the words so offhandedly that you’d almost missed them, but the meaning couldn't be interpreted any differently. You were exhausting. You could see his PR person gently hit his arm at the statement and he quickly changed the subject. 

The silence in your shared hotel room wrapped around you and before you knew it you had begun to pack your suitcase. Lando wouldn’t be due back for a few hours at least and that was enough time to pack up and get to the airport. 

Your phone buzzed as you were wheeling your suitcase to sit next to the door of the room. 

OP81:  I know you saw the interview. Are you ok? 

Y/n : No.

Y/n: Did you know that he felt that way? That I’m exhausting and he’s not in love? 

OP81: I was as blindsided as you. I thought you guys were great. He always talked about how he couldn't imagine life without you. 

OP81: Have you spoken to Lando? 

Y/n: No and I'm not planning to, I’m about to head to the airport. 

OP81: Need a ride? 

25 minutes later you are sitting in the passenger seat of Oscar’s hire car on your way to the airport. He hadn’t said anything the whole ride, just peeked at you periodically as you stared at the passing cars on the highway. 

“If you’re planning on jumping out, just know I already put the child lock on… and besides a guy who thinks you’re exhausting isn't worth jumping onto the highway” He says, glancing over again. 

“Duly noted.” you say, not even glancing towards him. 

“What are you going to do when you get back to Monaco? It’ll only be two days and Lando will be back, do you have somewhere to stay?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice. You realise that you didn’t know he cared that much. 

“I’ll figure something out. I’m sure I can stay in a hotel for a few days.” 

“You can stay at my place, if you want?’ Oscar suggests, “I’ve got more rooms than I know what to do with” 

You nod slightly, “That would actually be really good, I don’t think I can face being in our flat right now.” 

Oscar smoothly pulls up at the departure gate. He pulls the suitcase from the back for you. He looks at you, his expression blank but his eyes showing a hint of concern. Oscar pulls a set of keys from his pocket. 

“Here, I’ll text you the address.” He presses the keys into your hand. “Just…”  His hand comes up to wipe across his face, “Take care, y/n” 

You nod and pull Oscar into a hug. “Thank you,osc”,  you begin to tear up, “for everything. I know he’s your friend.” 

“He may be my friend but you’re my friend too,” He says into your shoulder, “ You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Oscar leaves a gentle kiss on your cheek, and heads towards the car. You give him a tight smile and wave after him as he drives off. 

–

It was thankfully early when you arrived at Oscar’s Monaco flat. You really didn’t need any more attention on your relationship than you’d had in the past 4 hours. 

After the flood of twitter and instagram notifications regarding the comments Lando had made, it had been easier to deactivate your social media than have to look at the messages from Lando’s fans. Some were nice, sure, but the majority, or what felt like the majority, were people saying that they knew you were never good enough for him. That you’d been using him for attention or money. 

There were two messages from Lando. 

Lan: Oscar said he took you to the airport

Lan: Don’t you think you might be overreacting? 

Oscar’s flat was quiet, aside from the humm of Monaco nightlife. You never understood why New York was “the city that never sleeps” when Monaco was constantly alive from early morning cafes to midnight casino’s to the drunken groups stumbling back to hotels at 4am. 

You hadn’t left the flat for two days by the time Oscar got back on Monday morning. Curled up in bed, sporadically getting up for cups of tea before stumbling back to bed to continue the routine of crying and staring at the ceiling of the spare room. 

He knocked gently on the doorframe, leaning against it with an unreadable expression. 

“I won,” He stated. 

Your head snapped towards him at the sound of his voice, “Osc” You rasped,voice hoarse after days of crying. “What?”

“I won,” He repeated, “for you.” He cleared his throat, as if he hadn’t intended to say the second part. 

“For me?” You questioned. 

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

He trailed off. “I’m sorry. I know this isn't the right time.” He turned and retreated into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

You stared at the ceiling of the room. How could you have not noticed? Every interaction with Oscar flashed in your mind. First meeting him while out clubbing with Lando after hearing so much about Lando’s new teammate; To late night runs to get ice cream cause Lando didn’t want to ruin his diet, that became habit on a Thursday night as Oscar needed his ‘secret weapon for the weekend; to the words Oscar had just breathed into your room.

You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…

But what?

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium. 

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while. 

Frankie :)))))) 

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u 

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either 

R u ok?   

You

Yeah I’m ok. 

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER. 

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there. 

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it. 

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back. 

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Called off work weeks ago 

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz 

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol 

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams. 

Of course he came. 

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it. 

Frankie :)))))) 

R u at memorial or westwood hospital? 

??? 

You 

Memorial. Why? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Be there in 15 

You 

Frankie you don’t have to do that 

Frankie :)))))) 

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon! 

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you. 

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance. 

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying. 

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem. 

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date. 

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance. 

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter. 

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair. 

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do. 

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea. 

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t. 

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away. 

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.” 

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process. 

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight. 

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.” 

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow. 

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat. 

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay. 

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road. 

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?” 

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror. 

“I’m taking you to your game.” 

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions. 

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-” 

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.” 

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

“Frankie, I-” 

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.” 

God, maybe you do want to kiss him. 

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.” 

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.” 

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning. 

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without. 

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off. 

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you. 

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either. 

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him. 

“I didn’t know you were home.” 

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand. 

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.” 

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it. 

“Drive was good?” 

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?” 

“Fine.” Lie. 

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.” 

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you. 

“Of course I was gonna come.” 

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy. 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.” 

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?” 

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.” 

That one shuts him up real fucking fast. 

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.” 

That shuts you up even quicker. 

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat. 

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it. 

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.” 

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go. 

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!” 

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.  

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now. 

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in  instead. 

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital. 

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. 

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get. 

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you. 

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.” 

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor. 

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.” 

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return. 

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down. 

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.  

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.” 

“Sorry about that, she’s um-” 

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off. 

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made. 

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?” 

“No, I just-” 

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him. 

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet. 

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

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@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

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@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

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@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[brnesblogposts]

Stuck

bucky barnes x reader

a/n miscommunication & close proximity trope is all i’m gonna say, it’s very fluffy once well- read it and find out reblogs appreciated!!!

“You’ve gotta be shitting me” Bucky speaks under his breath, frustration evident in his body language and tone. A feedback sound started on the speakers on the ferris wheel.

“Ladies and gentlemen there seems to be some technical issues with the ferris wheel, remain calm and stay seated and we should have it back up and running soon”

You heard a heavy sigh escape from Bucky as his head hung back in defeat.

“They said it’ll be fixed soon, won’t have to be stuck with me for long Buck” Trying to cut the tension that sat between him and yourself only earned a side glance from the man beside you.

You looked down to the car just beneath you “STEVE, NAT!! ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??!” Their heads whipping towards you as you spoke at a far too loud volume.

“WE’RE OKAY! YOU?” Natasha replied back and you gave her a thumbs up, her and Steve getting back to bickering and giggling about whatever they were talking about. Meanwhile you were sat next to Mr Grumpy-

“Can you stop moving,” he spat out without looking at you. Bold of you to assume you were getting somewhere with him, even on the brink of considering him a ‘friend’ but that idea was shot down quickly.

“I’m not moving, it’s probably the wind or maybe it’s you and you don’t realise” Tapping your fingers on the barrier that held you in place, he turned to you and gave you a bitter look which only made the situation more awkward and tense.

“How’d i get dragged onto the ferris wheel anyway” He huffs.

“Because, Steve and Nat are your best friends and also Nat is really scary and saying yes was easier than saying no” You looked down at the two as you spoke, their flirting ever so obvious even from your height.

A few minutes passed where nobody said anything, you both avoided eye contact and it gave you time to reflect on what you could’ve done to make Bucky so impassive to you, you’d barely talked to him because if you tried he disregarded you or made an excuse to leave as soon as possible. You really wanted to be his friend too. It’s awkward when the four of you go out and Steve and Nat obviously want to do things together as a couple making you stuck with Bucky and him with you. At least being civil is all you want, for Bucky to be able to hold a conversation with you longer than a few seconds.

“Are you cold?” His voice broke you from your thoughts, you were shivering and you hadn’t realised as you were so deep in your head. You looked at the goosebumps on your arms and turned to him,

“I guess I am, yeah.” you laughed at your ignorance for not noticing your body temperature drop. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky starting to take his jumper off.

“What are you doing?” You furrowed your brows at his action, there’s no way he was about to give that to you, he doesn’t even like you, you don’t think so anyway based on every interaction you’ve had with him ever.

“I’m giving you my sweater?” Now he was confused, it was quite obvious to him what he was doing, why else would he take off the jumper and sacrifice himself so you could be warm? He’s a gentleman first if anything. He got it over is head and handed it you, you took a second to take it as you were flabbergasted at his sudden kindness towards you.

“Oh.” You broke your gaze from him down to the jumper “Thank you,” you smiled gratefully and put the jumper on. The sleeves swallowed your hands, which helped because they were freezing before. Then you looked back at Bucky who now sat next to you in nothing but a black t-shirt “Are you not cold?” Once again furrowing your brows in his direction.

“Not as cold as you” He was looking straight ahead at the city view from your spot at the top of the ferris wheel. Reading his expression was impossible and you were really trying to—

“Okay well uh— thanks again.” You repeated your thanks as you snuggled into the jumper that now enveloped you, “So.. kinda awkward, huh?” You tried cracking a joke laughing a little as you did so which made Bucky turn to face you, analysing his features which you didn’t notice softened as he saw you smiling.

Bucky coughed awkwardly “Uh-“ He let out a small laugh too “Looks like Steve and Nat aren’t bothered by this disruption at all” His tone was lighter.

“Those two wouldn’t notice the world ending while they’re gazing at each other like that” You laughed again, Bucky liked that sound.

“So in love, it’s sickening” He retorted with a shake of his head and a smile which earned a glance from you, just a brief one before you looked back down at your sweater paws as they rested on the barrier, Bucky has noticed and he found it endearing, he felt warm whenever he saw you smile or heard you laugh and every time your thigh accidentally touched his due to your close proximity he swears a bolt of electricity travelled through him making his heart beat faster.

“I think it’s cute” You had a small pout on your face as you spoke, still looking down towards your two friends “imagine being stuck on a ferris wheel with someone you love, not the worst thing in the world in my opinion, it’s kind of like an impromptu date where you have no choice but to talk because the other option is incredibly awkward silence” You fiddled with the sleeves of the jumper.

“I guess, but what if you were trapped on a ferris wheel with someone you liked who you knew didn’t feel the same, that’s awkward all on its own” He was playing with a thread on his jeans as he spoke, you noticed.

“How would they know if the other person didn’t feel the same? Had they asked?” You inquired as the tension between you grew once again because the situation was too close to home.

“Isn’t asking embarrassing though?” Bucky asked breathily, like he was nervous.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?” He looked at you.

“I mean the worst that can happen is they say no and you’re sad for a bit but you’d move on eventually” You smiled but you weren’t looking at him.

“Right, yeah” He coughed awkwardly again and the silence resumed until he broke it about a minute later “Uhm” clearing his throat again Bucky decided it was now or never “Are you doing anything Friday night?” He closed his eyes for a brief second because there was no going back now.

“No, why?” You looked at him and smiled, maybe he’d finally be your friend, that was progress and you could work with that.

“Would you uh- like to get dinner with me? Like a date..?” He avoided your gaze as he asked.

“What” It caught you off guard and you responded without thinking.

“Fuck” He swore to himself “sorry forget I said anything, I don’t know what was going through my-“ He began to ramble.

“Bucky no I mean, I thought you didn’t like me” His head turned to face you as he thought about your words.

“What? No I do like you” He furrowed his brows thinking back on the interactions you’d had where he hadn’t realised he’d been so nervous it came off as rude. “Shit i’m sorry, i’ve been an ass to you now that I think about it, I wasn’t trying to though, I thought I was uh- I thought i was disguising my attraction to you well because i didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I guess it came off dickish” He internally slapped himself at his mistake

“Oh, OH” The realisation and his admission hit you “Awe, Bucky,” you laughed at how silly it all was, if you’d have just talked to each other sooner this could’ve been avoided “Bucky I would love to go to dinner with you” You smiled at the man.

The ferris wheel suddenly began again and you were on your way down, both smiling like idiots and laughing whenever you’d glance at each other, two idiots that had liked each other this whole time who didn’t know it. You both stepped off the car and down the stairs smiling and giggling still and approached Natasha and Steve,

“What the hell happened up there?” Natasha laughed because she had never seen the two of you so cosy before, Steve raised a brow but you two only burst out laughing again and started walking ahead of them and snickering as they both stared in confusion and disbelief.

[hsnlv]

lean on me | y.jw

pairing: bf!jungwon x reader

synopsis: you’ve always been independent, never needing anyone’s help. but jungwon makes you see that letting someone in doesn’t make you weaker—it just means you don’t have to face everything alone.

wc: 1.6k

you had always been independent. it wasn’t something you chose—it was ingrained in you from childhood. your parents weren’t neglectful, but they believed it was important for you to know how to handle things on your own. “it’ll be easier for you in the future,” they said.

and they were right. you grew up mastering the art of self-sufficiency, from fixing broken appliances to managing life’s curveballs. but this independence wasn’t always welcomed, especially in relationships. most of your ex-boyfriends had found it off-putting. they wanted to feel needed, to swoop in as the “man of the house.” but you hated that mindset.

so when you met jungwon, you thought it would be the same. but jungwon? he was different.

“babe.”

his voice startled you out of your focused trance. you glanced up to see him crouching next to you, his curious eyes scanning the scattered pieces of wood and screws on the floor.

“what are you doing?” he asked, though it was clear.

“building a bookshelf,” you replied casually, flipping through the manual perched on your lap.

jungwon reached over and took the manual from you, his eyes skimming over the instructions. then he plopped down beside you, sitting cross-legged like a mirror image.

“you could’ve asked me for help, y’know,” he said, looking at you pointedly.

you shook your head, brushing him off. “it’s fine, uwon. i’ve got it.”

but truthfully, the bookshelf was turning out to be a bigger challenge than you anticipated. the pieces were awkward to fit, and the instructions might as well have been written in hieroglyphics. you didn’t want to admit it, but you were struggling.

jungwon noticed, of course. setting the manual down, he cupped your cheeks with both hands, gently squishing them so your gaze was locked on his. his thumbs rubbed soft circles against your skin, his dimples making a brief but stern appearance.

“angel,” he started, his voice calm yet firm. “can you, for once, just lean on me?”

your lips parted, but no words came out.

“i love that you’re independent,” he continued, his tone softening. “it’s one of the things i admire most about you. but sometimes… i want to take care of you too. not because i think you need me to. but because i want to.”

you blinked, feeling a lump form in your throat. you weren’t used to this—someone asking to share your burdens instead of trying to take control.

“you know what would be even more attractive than your independence?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

you shook your head, playing dumb even though you knew what he was getting at.

“if you let me be your boyfriend instead of just some random guy you live with,” he teased, his voice laced with warmth and just a hint of desperation.

his words struck a chord deep inside you. it wasn’t that you didn’t trust jungwon—you did, with all your heart. but letting someone help you, letting someone in, wasn’t something that came easily after years of being your own rock.

“baby,” he called again, softer this time. “let’s try this together, hm?”

he dropped his hands and picked up the manual, his fingers tracing the steps with deliberate care. you watched as he began organizing the pieces, his focus steady yet unhurried.

“fine,” you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips. “but only because this bookshelf is impossible.”

jungwon glanced up, grinning like he’d won the lottery. “impossible for you, maybe. not for us.”

and just like that, the two of you worked side by side.

——————————

later that evening, the bookshelf stood proudly in the corner of your room, and you found yourself curled up on the couch with jungwon. your head rested on his chest, his steady heartbeat soothing you as his fingers lazily played with your hair.

“see? this isn’t so bad, is it?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you.

you traced little shapes on his shirt with your finger, a soft smile forming on your lips. “no. it’s… nice, actually.”

he chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “told you. letting me help doesn’t make you any less strong. it just makes me feel like your actual boyfriend instead of your roommate-slash-cheerleader.”

you rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly. “you’re so dramatic.”

“oh, i’m dramatic?” he feigned offense, his dimples peeking out as he grinned. “this coming from the girl who wrestled a bookshelf just to prove a point.”

“hey, that bookshelf was—” you started to argue, but jungwon cut you off by leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“shh, angel,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “you’re cute when you’re flustered, but you’re even cuter when you admit I’m right.”

you groaned, hiding your face in his chest, but he only laughed, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

“thank you, uwon,” you murmured, your voice muffled against him.

“for what?” he asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“for being patient with me. and… for building the bookshelf.”

jungwon grinned, pulling you back just enough to cup your cheeks. “you’re welcome. but, angel?”

“yeah?”

“next time you need to build something—or anything, really—just call me, okay? i’ll be your knight in shining armor, or at least a guy with a really good screwdriver.”

you laughed, your heart feeling light in a way it hadn’t in a long time. “deal. but don’t let it go to your head.”

“too late,” he teased, leaning down to steal another kiss. “you already think I’m the best.”

and honestly? you kind of did. because with jungwon, you didn’t just feel cared for—you felt loved, completely and utterly. and that was better than anything you’d ever built on your own.

[yin-shimo]

Converting Fem-Frame Mesh to Masc-Frame

This tutorial assumes you have basic knowledge on blender and sims4studio, so i won’t go over basic things. As always, you’ll need to export the mesh you wish to convert first. Next, open it in blender and switch into edit mode.

Hit ‘UV sync selection’ to make the work easier.

Now, with the ‘L’ key, select only the body parts and separate with the ‘P’ key. Your mesh should look like this:

Then, hide the body (hit ‘H’ key or hit the eye icon in the outliner tab) and import the needed male body mesh. If your object is only a top or only a bottom you may not need the whole male mesh, but just to be safe, I prefer importing both regardless for a better view of how the weights look later.

Before editing the mesh, make sure to merge by distance so nothing breaks or gets crunchy in the sculpting step.

The Main Event:

aka sculpting the mesh to the male body. Go into sculpt mode and select ‘elastic deform tool’, either through the button itself or the keys ‘shift+space 8’. Then make sure to select ‘mirror: x’ in the symmetry tab so that everything you do on one side occurs on the other to keep it all even.

If all's well, when you move around the mesh, your cursor should look like this:

You may need to switch between ‘material view’ and ‘solid’ with x-ray on as shown in my recording to get a good look and keep everything proportional. 

Before moving onto weights, I usually look back at the original female body to see what parts were deleted as an outline for how I will now delete parts from the male body. Visually, the easiest way for me to do this is I select both bodies, with the female pre-highlighted and the male unselected, and then select parts while holding the shift key.

Separate and hide the other meshes, leaving you with something like this:

If you don't see any holes anywhere, we can now move onto weight painting.

Weights

 The first thing you want to do is to look for the cas-breast weights and delete them. Theyre not needed and will only fuck up things later LOL.

Now, go to the ‘spine_1’ weight, it’ll probably look like that, which we dont want. So hit the button ‘weights’ and select ‘normalize all’ as such : 

Spine1 should now look like this

After this point, weight painting is very dependent on the mesh itself, so, the most I can say is to un-hide the rig and rotate various bones to ensure the clothes move properly and/or don’t clip anywhere. If it does, those are the weights you'll need to fix.

When youre done, merge both meshes together and import it. Once it's imported, youll wanna export it again to fix the uv_1.

Why? Because we merged vertices earlier and that impacts the way the uv_1 turns out. Seeing lines go across every side of the mesh negatively impacts the way itll morph on the body in-game. Everything has to fit correctly. Example of a not well uv_1:

Once the mesh is re-imported, separate the body from the dress/clothes so the uv_1 editing happens /only/ to the clothes. Add a complete male mesh again, select your outfit and go to modifier properties and select ‘data transfer’. Make yours look like this:

After applying it, it should look something like this:

And now you're free to combine the two meshes and to merge by distance again!!

Finally, import and check how it looks in game. It's usually never perfect the first time…

How did this dress turn out? Well, like I said, its imperfect still but looks like this in-game atm:

(all mascframe-male)

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

DJ plays- Color Me Badd - I Adore Mi Amor

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: Hey! Check out this little guy.

Bob: Probably one of the cats they let in the church to keep the mice out. Wonder what’s he doing all the way out here.

Geoffrey: We can’t leave him out in the cold. It’s starting to get cold soon.

Bob: There’s no way you think we can sneak a cat in the dorms.

Geoffrey: I’m pretty sure people have snuck in worse. Besides, we’re doing an act of kindness, right, little guy?

Bob: Does Nancy like cats?

Geoffrey: [nervously] W-why?

Bob: I saw you two being all cozy at the game the other day. Care to share?

Geoffrey: She was just being nice, that’s all...

Bob: Popular girls aren’t just nice for no reason. Actually...popular girls aren’t nice at all.

Geoffrey: She’s different. She’s still the same Nancy Landgraab I knew when we were kids. Kind. Smart. Um, really pretty...

Bob: Oh, boy. Do you hear yourself! You my friend are in l-o-v-e and you should talk to her! Ask her out!

Geoffrey: Ask you Nancy Landgraab? How do I do that?

Bob: Glad you ask. I am a certified ladies man. You just gotta- you know, talk to her! Listen to her when she talks. Ask about her day. Compliment her brain, not just her looks, trust me.

Don: [snorts] You listen to this dickhead and you’ll never get laid, Osteer. If you want to hook up with Blondie, I can help you out. It’ll cost you, though.

Geoffrey: Like what?

Don: Room swap. It’ll be easier for my girl to come over without getting caught if I have your room. Dina is friends with the hot blonde chick and she’ll put in a good word. Don’t worry, you can tap that before we swap. Deal?

Geoffrey: I don’t know... shouldn’t I get to know her better?

Don: We’re saying the same thing, dumbass! I’ll let you in on a secret; Tonight, a couple of us cool kids are sneaking out to a college party. Blondie will be there, and you two can get your freak on. How’s that?

Geoffrey: I-

Don: Atta boy, Osteer! Don’t dress like a dork virgin either.

Bob: [in a baby voice] I think this is a bad idea, Geoffrey! Yeah, couldn’t have said it better myself, little guy.

-

Geoffrey: Hey, Nancy. Um. Thanks again for helping me the other day. The only thing that’s bruised is my ego, honestly.

Nancy: Yes, of course. I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry about your ego.

Geoffrey: [chuckles] It’s ok, it should be used to this by now. What are you reading? Can I sit with you before class?

Nancy: Yeah, sure.

Vanessa: She has a crush on Geoffrey? Why didn’t she tell me?

Nina: Apparently, they’re childhood sweethearts. We need you to play matchmaker. If anyone can hook them up, it’s you, VV.

Nancy Narrates: [Ever since that night in my room, Vanessa has been noticeable distant from me. The only thing reaching me was that lost, faraway look in her eyes]

Cassie: Guys...I don’t know. What if Sister Agnes decides to do another room check? What am I supposed to say?

Cassie: I’m just gonna say it- I don’t think you should do this. Feels wrong. Lying? I wouldn’t even know what to say if someone asks. Nancy, say something-

Vanessa: Jesus fucking Christ, figure it the fuck out! Come on, Nancy.

-

Geoffrey: Do you want to da-

Nancy: Getting a drink.

Vanessa: Hi.

Nancy: Are you mad at me about something?

Vanessa: Why would I be mad at you?

Nancy: I don’t know..

Vanessa: Put that down and come dance.

DJ plays- Color Me Badd - I Adore Mi Amor

Dream on, dream away I think I'm gonna have to stay Stay forever I adore mi amor

You want to take her place You say you'd treat me better Better I know for sure

You see she loves me And I could never leave her

Nancy Narrates: [There it was, that feeling again. Only this time, I did fall completely apart]

Nancy: [panting]

You're the one that I adore (I adore) I'll be forever your love (mi amor)

[imaginepirates]

How They Confess

For the anon who wanted to know how the characters would confess their feelings, and how they would react if the reader confessed first.

This includes Jack, Will, Lizzie, James, Beckett, and Barbossa.

Jack:

Jack isn’t one to make a grand show of things, and if he’s to confess, it’ll be in a moment of simplicity. You’ll be curled up together in his cabin, warm and drowsy, soft light shining out from the lanterns. He can only admit it to you when he’s completely relaxed—he can hardly admit it to himself sometimes, how much he loves you. But he says it softly in your ear, and you’re more pleased than surprised, already tangled together in the sheets. Your brain’s a bit fuzzy anyway, and the full weight of it wouldn’t hit you until the next morning. But by then he’s up and out on deck, and you’re left with the knowledge that he really does love you after all. 

If you’re the first to confess, Jack would be taken aback. He doesn’t expect you to love him, not really, so it comes as a bit of a shock to his system. It would take him some time to process, too, and he has to do some serious introspection before he can say it back. Love is a heavy thing in his eyes, and he’s not about to mess it up. 

Will:

Though he can be bashful, Will is completely unashamed of his feelings for you. If you’re of the same social station, he’ll simply tell you how he feels by taking you out for a walk along the oceanfront. If you’re too far above him on the social ladder, he’ll keep his feelings to himself, though they shine through with all the things he does for you to make life easier and more convenient. 

If you speak up first, Will’s a little embarrassed, but in a good way. He feels a little guilty for not saying anything, but quickly gets over it; he’s just happy you feel the same, and that you’re comfortable enough in your affection to tell him. He likes that you can own it—not everyone is attracted to blacksmiths. Besides, hearing the words from you is just the confidence boost he needs. 

Elizabeth:

Elizabeth wants to make her confession as perfect as she can. She does it over a nice dinner, just the two of you, and she’s pulled out the candles for the occasion. She’s a romantic at heart, and wants to have the right atmosphere in which to tell you how she feels. She’s really one for the aesthetic. It’s honestly rather cute, the effort she puts in, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. 

If you’re the first to confess, Lizzie is just delighted. She has butterflies for days, and be prepared for all the secret little messages dictated by high society. I’m talking fan-signals, flower language, the whole package. Even though she loves you earnestly, and even though you know both know it, she’s absolutely going to make the most of the courtship process and all it entails.

James:

We all know how awkward James is about confessing his feelings. He’s been rehearsing for days, and is almost too anxious to do it in the first place. He’s afraid of coming off too strong, and overanalyzes every interaction you’ve had together. He ensures the setting is both pleasant and proper, and though it may seem a little stiff, you’re aware the confession is genuine. That being said, the moment you indicate the feeling is mutual, his composure cracks and he gives you that huge smile he tries so hard to hide. 

If you beat him to it, he’d be shocked. Not only is he surprised that you made the first move, which is so expected of him, but he honestly had no idea you felt that way about him. It takes him a good long time to find the right words to tell you he feels the same, and you’ll have to be patient as he recovers from his astonishment. 

Beckett:

This man is never, ever, going to admit to loving you. He won’t even let himself think about his affection for you. In all truth and honesty, he’s terrified of his feelings, seeing them as a weakness that someone will figure out and exploit. He’s also afraid you won’t feel the same way. How could you? It would take a serious moment of vulnerability—either when something awful happens to you, or when you show him honest tenderness. Either way, it’s completely unexpected and almost unbelievable…until you see the fear in his eyes and realize it’s the truth. 

If you make the first move, Beckett doesn’t think you’re serious. He’s willing to play along, but he figures you want something from him. So he brushes it off, though your words linger in his mind for days after. He’s probably in his office doing paperwork when it hits him that you were being completely serious, and he’s absolutely overcome by it. He makes sure to explain himself when he sees you next; he just didn’t think someone could feel that way about him. 

Barbossa:

Barbossa is, if nothing else, a gentleman at heart. Again, this will likely be a dinner confession, though Hector isn’t nearly as anxious as Elizabeth might be. He’s been around a while, and he’s really only going to say anything if he’s fairly certain you’re interested. He also isn’t offended if you reject—he completely understands why someone wouldn’t want to be with him. He’s relaxed about the whole affair so you never have to feel nervous over any of it. If it turns out you are interested, he’s going to treat you with perfect curtesy and warm affection.

If you’re the first to say anything, Hector’s a bit smug. He might be slightly sheepish that you beat him to it, but overall, he’s happy to hear you say it. He’ll tease you over it in good humor, though he knows you can give as good as you get. He’s secretly happy to hear you say it because he’s insecure about his age. 

[mylifesjustacarousel]

bridget’s sister

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: being bridget’s sister, everyone has their preconceived notions about you, but they couldn’t be more wrong. what happens when the shy princess and the arrogant pirate get paired up for an assignment?

type: fluff

CW: none

WC: 4.7k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | requests are open! sorry for the long wait! <3 (not proofread!)

You were Bridget’s younger sister, only a year apart. Most people hate when they live in the shadow of their older siblings, but you felt that, that was far from the truth for you. You were very shy and kept to yourself, so you relished being in the shadow of your older sister. It kept the attention off of you. Not that there was ever much on you, though. You and Bridget weren’t exactly the most popular people ever. But, you both had Ella.

The three of you were sat in Bridget’s room, you on Bridget’s bed while the two girls were baking. “How was school today, y/n? Anything fun happen?” Bridget asked. She sort of acted as a mother figure for you ever since you had arrived at Merlin Academy. Being on your own was hard, but having your older sister around, and her best friend, made it a bit easier. You had a hard time making friends of your own, even back in Wonderland you didn’t have very many friends. But, you liked it that way. It made life less complicated.

“It was okay.” You shrugged. “Alchemy was pretty fun, but we got our first partnered assignment today.” She looked over at you, a puzzled look on her face. “Why is that bad? You love Alchemy!”

“I do, but uh, it’s my partner that’s really the issue.” you mumbled the last bit, your cheeks turning a bright pink. Ella giggled, popping the cupcakes that they had made into the oven. “Uh oh, does somebody have a crush on their partner? Who is it?” she asked. You just blushed more, grabbing one of Bridget’s pillows and burying your face in it. “I can’t say, it’s awful!” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pillow.

Bridget sat down next to you, gently running her hand along your back. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell us. But, maybe we can help you out.”

“James Hook.” you said, your face still buried into the pillow. Ella raised a brow. “Who? We can’t hear you when you have a face full of pillow.” You groaned, sitting up as you mustered up the courage to even say his name.

“Hook. James Hook. He’s my partner.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Him? He’s bad news, y/n. Not to mention, he hates us.” You flopped back onto the bed, covering your face with the pillow again. “I know! It’s terrible!”

“You can’t help who you like,” Bridget said, “What makes you like him?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, tossing the pillow across the room. “I know he’s mean, and I know he’s cold hearted. But, when I see him, it’s like my heart is riding a rollercoaster that’s going faster than the speed of light. He’s just so… him.”

“Maybe he could use someone to help warm up his little dead heart.” Ella shrugged. Bridget gently hit her arm, giving her a playful glare. “Ooh! Could I set up a date for you two? I just got a new cookbook, I could make you some desserts to bring!”

You sat up once more, quickly shaking your head. “No, you cannot get involved in this. It’s just a silly little crush, it’ll go away… I hope. There will be no dates, and there will be no desserts. If there’s one thing I’m not doing, it’s absolutely humiliating myself.”

“Well… why don’t you bring him a cupcake tomorrow?” Bridget asked.

“I am not putting a love spell on him, B.”

“Fine!”

You sat in your seat, your palms practically an ocean with how much they were sweating. The rest of the students were filing into the classroom, and you were silently praying that Hook wouldn’t even bother to show up today. But your prayers were quickly squashed when the brunette pirate sat next to you with a huff. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, you couldn’t even look at him or else your heart would actually explode.

“Alright, class! Get with your partners and start on the assignment. I suggest you work with each other outside of class as well for the presentation portion of the project.” Merlin announced before going to his desk.

“Um, are you ready?” you asked, pulling out your notebook and assignment guidelines. “I didn’t bring any of that stuff.” He gestured to all of the books you had pulled out. “Oh! Um, well here!” You set a few pieces of paper and a pencil in front of him.

You stood up, pulling out the ingredients for the potion you were making. Hook stood next to you, his arm brushing against your shoulder. “I’m not really sure how to do… any of this. I can’t say I really care for this class.” he said.

“Okay! Well, I actually really really like this class, so don’t even worry about it,” you rambled on, “I will do most of it, just focus on taking notes.”

Hook watched you carefully as you poured ingredients into the cauldron. Well, he couldn’t care less about the assignment, he was mostly focused on you. The concentrated look on your face, the way your mouth moved silently when you were talking to yourself. He thought you were a little strange, but quite charming.

You felt his eyes on you, and it took everything in you to not look over at him. It’s just a silly little crush… or maybe a silly big crush. The two of you had never really spoken before you got partnered up, but you would see him walking around the school. His gorgeous smile, and the way he carried himself with confidence… arrogance, really. You knew that you should despise him, but you couldn’t help yourself. There had to be more than what he showed on the surface.

“Can you hand me the griffin claw?” you asked in your usual mousy tone. Hook snapped out of his trance, looking around. “Hmm? Oh, there it is.” He picked up the griffin claw, handing it over to you. You quietly thanked him, stirring up the potion.

Merlin kept a close eye on the two of you. He knew how Hook was, and that was why he partnered him up with you. He watched as you did all of the work as Hook sat there, the paper he was supposed to be taking notes on almost completely blank. He got up, going over to you two.

“I see that you two are almost done. That’s quite impressive. But, in order for you both to get credit during the presentation, you both need to do the work.” Merlin looked towards you. “I highly recommend that you two get together after school for a tutoring session. Maybe you could get Mr. Hook to actually pass this class.”

Hook sneered, picking up the pencil and jotting down unreadable notes. He had absolutely terrible handwriting. “I mean it, James.” Merlin said, walking back to his desk.

“I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” you mumbled. “It’s fine. So… your place or mine?” he asked.

Your eyes widened and your head turned to look in his direction. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Did I stutter, darling? Where are we meeting up later?”

Your heart melted at the pet name. How could someone be so awful, but so perfect at the same time?

Before your brain could even process the question, your mouth was already moving. “My place, come around six. Bring a notebook.” You tore off a piece of one of the papers that you gave him, writing down your dorm building and room number for him.

Oh, god. What did I just do? you thought.

“You what?!” Ella exclaimed, a look of absolute shock on her face.

“I invited Hook over to my room to study, and now I’m really freaking out!” You were pacing back and forth, your hands running through your own hair. “I don’t even know why I did that! My mouth started moving before my brain could even think! Oh god, this is going to end terribly! Should I cancel? I should cancel!”

“No, don’t cancel!” Bridget went over to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “It’s clear that this is something that you want, y/n. You can’t stop love. You can repress it, but you can’t stop it. So don’t cancel. Just… be careful. Uli’s friends can be a little…”

“Mean. They can be mean and vicious.” Ella finished her sentence. “We’ll be here. If he tries anything, you know where to find us.”

“Oh, I feel like I’m gonna yak. Do I look okay? Please tell me I look okay!” you whined, straightening out your clothes. Bridget smiled, brushing your hair out of your face. “You look as beautiful as always. It’s going to be fine. You two will study and then he’ll leave. Why don’t you take a cupcake for the road? They’re strawberry shortcake, a new recipe.”

You sighed, looking over at the tray of freshly baked cupcakes. “What if this doesn’t go well? I can’t have the rest of the VKs after me, I literally will not survive.” Bridget cupped your cheeks. “You’re an amazing girl, you can do anything. It’s just studying, it’s not like it’s a date… even though I really want to plan one for you. I’m serious, I have a whole list of ideas.”

“It’s not happening, Bridg.”

“It could. You never knowwww!” she said in a singsong. You playfully rolled your eyes, picking two cupcakes up off of one of the many golden platters. “Okay, I’m going. If this doesn’t end well, at least I get a cupcake to eat.”

“Good luck! Make sure you swing by after to tell us how it went.” Bridget fixed your hair once more before leading you to the door. “Go get him!”

You pulled out your textbooks and cauldron, getting everything organized for Hook’s arrival. You seemed calm and collected on the outside, but it was like a million alarms were going off inside your head.

He doesn’t feel that way about you, he doesn’t even know you. It’s just a tutoring session.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock on the door. Oh god, he’s here. You looked at yourself in the mirror, deeming yourself presentable before opening the door. “Hi , James. Um, come on in. Make yourself comfortable.”

Hook strolled in, his eyes darting around your room as he looked at all of your decor. “It’s very girly in here.” he commented as he sat down on your bed. “Um… thank you?” you replied, “So, I thought we could start with some reading and then you could practice working on the potion… or anything.”

Picking up one of the textbooks, you sat down next to him. Well, as close as you could get to him without feeling like you were going to spontaneously combust. You opened up the book to the page that explained the potion that the two of you were working on. “Um, it’s a pretty simple potion. One of the easier ones, actually.”

Hook scooted closer to you, reading the text over your shoulder. You could feel his breath hitting your cheek from how close he was. Not to mention, he smelled surprisingly incredible. “Okay, so, uh…” you mumbled. Your brain was completely short circuiting.

“Are you… alright?” he asked. You quickly snapped out of it, standing up and going over to your desk that you had set the cauldron up on. “Yup, never better!” You nervously giggled. “Just… take a look around while I finish setting up? I find hands on learning is a lot more effective.” He nodded and got up, quietly wandering around your room. His eyes landed on the tray of cupcakes that was on your nightstand. “Cupcakes? Do you bake?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh no, not me. Those are, uh, from my sister. She’s the baker.” you explained, “You can try one, if you want! Or not, whatever you want!” Hook laughed to himself, picking up one of the cupcakes.

Oh god, even his laugh is gorgeous.

“Is your sister the cupcake girl? The one with the pink hair?” he asked, his mouth full of cupcake. You froze, looking over at him. It wasn’t a secret in the slightest, but the VKs hated Bridget.

“Um… yes.”

“Hmm…” he mumbled, “You’re not anything like her. Wouldn’t have guessed if it wasn’t for the cupcake.” You pulled the rest of the ingredients out, trying to hide your face as it turned the shade of a tomato. “Um, is that a problem or something? Because if that’s a problem then I don’t think this is going to work.”

Hook shook his head quickly. “No, no! Just… making an observation. You don’t have to be so skittish all the time, I’m not gonna hurt you.” You quickly relaxed. “Okay, you’re right… Let’s just get to work.”

He went over to you, looking over all of the ingredients on the table. “You just have all of this stuff? Are you like a witch or something?” he teased. “Definitely not a witch. I don’t know, I just really like alchemy. It’s kind of like baking, but instead of desserts you can turn someone into a frog. Not that I ever have, though.”

“Seems like you really know your stuff. Well, show me how it’s done, princess. You’re probably my only hope of passing this class.”

“Okay… do you even know anything about alchemy?” you asked.

Hook shook his head. “Nope. Not a clue, lass.”

You sighed, opening your book back up. “Okay! It’s a super simple potion, you could probably do it with your eyes closed. It’s a rejuvenation spell. It makes things younger, or like new. You’re going to practice on…” You looked around your room before spotting a vase of dead flowers. You picked them up, bring them over to the table. “These. They’re well past their expiration date.”

He looked at the book, mumbling the ingredients list to himself as he picked up the labeled jars and started pouring ingredients in. You carefully watched him, reaching out and grabbing his hand when he almost put an incorrect ingredient in. “No! No, not that one. That one will make it go kaboom.”

Hook’s eyes glanced down at your hand, how it was so much smaller and daintier than his. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away and setting the jar down. “Thanks. We definitely don’t want that.” You picked up the correct jar, handing it to him. “This one, but only a tiny amount. A little goes a long way.”

He poured it in as you grabbed the griffin claw. “Here, use this to stir it. Stir it slowly, if you stir it too fast you could completely ruin the potion.” you said. Hook nodded, taking the griffin claw from you. “Well, why don’t you help me? Just so I don’t ruin it, y’know?”

“Oh! Um, okay!” You wrapped your hand around his, your body pressed against his side as you helped him stir it. “Just like this, okay?”

“Just like that.” he mumbled, his body leaning into yours. You two stood there for a solid minute, just stirring the potion in silence. It was weird and strange, but something about it felt right. Once the potion turned a bright purple, you pulled away. “Okay! Um, here. We’ll pour it into here.” You pulled out a small spritzer bottle, opening it up. Hook helped you pour the potion into the bottle and you closed it up, handing it to him.

“Just spritz it on the flowers, like you’re watering plants.” you explained, putting the vase of wilted flowers in front of him. “If I spritz it on myself will I turn into, like, a baby or something?” he asked.

“Do not do that. Just water the flowers, James.”

He giggled, spritzing the flowers with the potion. Within seconds, the once dead flowers had practically sprung to life. Hook grinned, picking up one of the flowers and examining it. “These look incredible. Here, for you.” He extended his arm, offering the flower to you. “For being a great teacher.” You blushed, taking the flower from him. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, James. Didn’t think you had that kind of side to you.”

“I’m full of surprises, Ms. Wonderland. Like, for instance… I can juggle, or at least I used to be able to. I could juggle.” You set the flower back into the vase. “I’m sorry if this comes off the wrong way, but why’re you being so… nice?”

Hook scoffed, but you could tell that it was in more of a playful way. “I’m mean, not heartless. You’re helping me pass this class, and I appreciate it.”

“Well… I’m always here to help.” You started to clean up the ingredients on your desk. Hook sat on your bed, watching you. “Why’re you so shy? I mean, you and your sister are so… different.”

You shrugged. “I’ve always been this way. It was hard making friends back home, I never really felt like I fit in. So, I just… shut everyone out. Can’t have a hard time making friends if you stop trying. It’s been a little easier since coming here, but I just prefer keeping to myself, y’know? Makes everything less complicated.”

“I see. Well, I know that you already think about me in a certain way. But, I would like to think that we’re friends of some sort.”

“Your friends would hate me, James. I appreciate it, but I think that that’s a bad idea.” you sighed, finishing putting the rest of the jars away. “Um, you can go, if you’d like. You don’t have to stick around.”

Hook stayed where he was. “No, I think I’ll stay here. We’re friends, now whether you want us to be or not. So, come here, let’s talk.”

You hesitated before sitting down next to him. “We have nothing in common. You’re doing this just to prove some sort of point.” He took your hand in his. “I know that I have a very bad track record, and I know that I’m not exactly the greatest person. But, I think you’re nice. You’re nice, even when you definitely shouldn’t be.”

Your heart felt like it was running a marathon in that moment. Your hand felt so tiny and fragile in his. The coldness of the rings on his fingers brought you back to reality. “It’s getting late, James, curfew is gonna start soon.” You got up, going over to the door. “I will see you in class on Thursday, don’t forget what I taught you.”

He got up, making his way over to you. “Thank you for being a great teacher. I’ll see you around.” he said, winking at you before walking out. You shut the door behind him, sinking to the floor. If anything, your crush had gotten worse. You waited a few minutes to make sure Hook was gone before getting up and racing to Bridget’s room.

“Okay, okay! How’d it go?” Bridget asked, leading you to her bed to sit down. “There are no tears, so that’s a very good sign.” You groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “It was awful, B! He was so nice and he said that we’re friends!”

Ella and Bridget looked at each other with pure confusion. “I don’t think you know what awful means.” Ella said. You sat up, “I wanted my crush to be gone! But, he held my hand and he gave me a flower! A flower!” you exclaimed.

“It sounds like he has a little bit of a crush too.” Bridget pointed out. “Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

“And risk getting rejected and humiliated? Yeah, I think I’ll pass. It’s just a stupid crush, it will go away.” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your fists. Bridget rubbed your back. “You can’t just will your feelings away. I think that you should talk to him about it.”

“I…” you trailed off. “I will think about it. But, I just don’t think I can do that to myself. I can’t be hurt like that.” Bridget pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on the top of your head. “You’re an amazing girl, as well as the best little sister I could possibly ask for. If he doesn’t think that you’re amazing, then he isn’t worth it. Okay? You’re great, and I want you to find someone who makes you feel that way.”

“You always know what to say, even if I don’t want you to say it.” Bridget giggled, pulling away to look at you. “I know. It’s my job as a big sister. Now, go get some sleep. You have class early in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, getting up. “Fine, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ella!” You gave them both a wave before leaving, heading back to your dorm.

It was the next day, and you were more or less avoiding Hook. Not that you didn’t appreciate your time together, but you could not look him in the eyes without feeling like your legs were about to turn to jello. You were sat at one of the many tables outside, quietly eating your lunch. From an outsiders perspective, you probably looked sad and lonely. But, you enjoyed the peace and quiet.

“Hey, lass! I’ve been looking for you all day!” Hook sat down next to you, making you almost jump out of your skin. “You scared me, Hook! Give a girl a warning!” you exclaimed. He giggled, leaning against you. “Sorry, sorry. So, how are you?”

“I’m… good?” You still didn’t understand why he was being so nice to you. Surely it had to be a part of some evil plan or something. The VKs aren’t nice to anyone. “Okay, what’s going on here? First the flower, now you’re seeking me out? Is this like a sick little mind game?”

Hook’s expression was one of hurt, but he quickly shook it off. “That’s not it at all. Ya know, I was very, how do you say… open minded about you. So why can’t you do the same?” You frowned, feeling a pit of nervousness in your stomach. “I… James, you have to understand where I’m coming from. You, um, don’t have the greatest reputation.”

“Yes, and I’m trying to show you that I’m more than that. I’m not going to lie and say that what you hear isn’t who I am, but I do have feelings.” he sighed. You sat there for a moment, just staring at him. “Okay, James. You gave me a chance, I’m going to give you one. But, just so you know, I do know how to turn you into a frog.” You hesitated for a moment before scooting closer to him. “It’s hard for me to open up to people, but if you’re going to put in the effort then I’ll do the same.”

He grinned, his eyes quickly flickering up and down as he checked you out. He didn’t even know who you were before you two got partnered up, but the night before made something click in his brain. You were shy and reserved, but when you opened up you were charming and sweet. It was a total change from the girls he usually sought, but it felt right. You were a change, a good change.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!” you giggled, nudging his arm. “If you’re gonna look at me like that, at least take me out first.” Hook shrugged, accepting your challenge. “Okay. Meet me at the lake tonight around seven. Bring a towel, don’t be late.” He got up, patting your arm before walking off. You sat there, your jaw dropped as you watched him walk away.

What just happened?

The Enchanted Lake was a pretty popular hangout spot where students went to swim and lounge on those especially hot days. You were sat on one of the many rocks, waiting for James to arrive. Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. You had never been on a date before, or on anything date adjacent. Was this even a date? As the minutes passed by, your mind started racing as well. He must’ve stood you up, that’s the only reasonable explanation.

“You okay, darling?”

You turned around, seeing Hook standing behind you. He was wearing a basic black t-shirt and maroon swim trunks, very different from his usual wardrobe. He looked cute. “Yeah, um, I’m fine!” You got up, going over to him. “It’s nice out tonight. Wanna go for a swim?” he asked. “Is that not why we’re here, Hook?” you replied.

He set his towel down, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it near the towel. You blushed, your eyes darting to look anywhere else. “You’re acting like I’m streaking, princess. Don’t be so shy.” He sat down on the ledge of the rock before pushing himself into the water. “Come on, it’s nice in here!”

You groaned, putting your towel down next to his before joining him. You started to shiver as the cold water touched your skin. “It is not nice, James! My legs are freezing!” you complained, wrapping your arms around yourself to maintain warmth. He swam over to you. “What’s your definition of freezing, darling?”

“This!” you exclaimed, your teeth chattering. He stood up, wrapping his arms around you. You completely froze in your spot. Hook was hugging you. His bare skin was touching yours. Your legs? Jello. Your heart? Rocketed out of your chest. “There, now you should be nice and warm.”

“Mhm.” you mumbled. It was like someone had doused the circuit board in your brain with a gallon of water. “Is this okay? I can let go.” he said, starting to pull his arms away. “No!” you exclaimed, your face bright red. “No, it’s okay.” He grinned, his hand resting on your waist.

The two of you stayed like that for a bit, your head moving to rest on his shoulder. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” you admitted, looking up at him. He looked puzzled. “I’ve, uh, never been on any sort of date before. I’m sorry if I’m being really awkward, I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hook reached his hand up, brushing your hair out of your face. “That doesn’t matter to me. I’m having fun. But you know what would make this even more fun?” he asked. “Going to the kitchen and making hot chocolate?” you responded hopefully. He pulled away from you, his hook resting against your back and his hand scooping your legs up. “What’re you doing, James?!” you giggled, holding onto him. He gave you a countdown from three before throwing you into the water.

When you came up to the surface, Hook swam over to you, barely able to breathe from how much he was laughing. You rolled your eyes, splashing water at his face. “Oh, come on, princess! Let loose and have some fun!” He stood up, taking your hand and pulling you closer so your chests were pressed together. “You’re a jerk, James!”

“You don’t mean that.” he teased, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, I do.” you replied, your body language saying otherwise as you completely melted into his touch. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, as if he was silently asking for permission. You took a deep breath, your thoughts finally calming for the first time that night.

Screw it.

You grabbed his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, his hand running through your wet hair. His lips were soft and warm, and it was clear that he definitely had experience in the kissing department. He was one of the school’s biggest flirts, after all.

You pulled away from the kiss after what felt like centuries. “I’m sorry if that was bad, I’m new to all of this-”

“Shh, I’ve gotcha.” he whispered, his hand still lingering in your hair. “I know we don’t exactly have a lot in common. But, I would like to get to know you better. If that’s what you want.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I would like that a lot. Meet me in my dorm after class tomorrow? We could, um, watch a movie or something?”

“I would love that, princess.”

a/n: … part 2? 👀

[estrellami-1]

(Healing From the) Pain

Steve spent most of his life feeling pain. At this point, he characterizes his life by it.

The pain of a backhand, courtesy of his father, at six years old. His lip doesn’t split, but it’s a near thing.

The pain in his wrist when he falls wrong at nine years old. His parent won’t take him to the doctor initially, so he goes to school the next day. When the teacher notices, she sends him to the nurse, who calls his parents. They’re upset at him. He doesn’t know why, but he promises them it won’t happen again.

The pain all over at fourteen when he gets into wrestling. He’s good, manages to pin his opponent four times out of five.

The pain at sixteen, getting his face bashed in by Jonathan Byers. Then the demogorgon, and really, Steve is just a walking bruise at that point.

Then there’s the Russians. The less said about that, the better. The only silver lining is Robin.

Now he’s trailing behind Dustin, breaking into Reefer Rick’s boathouse, and Steve is sure this is going to end painfully.

He’s shoved against the wall, something sharp against his neck, and he thinks he was right as he groans.

The something sharp against his neck digs in as he looks Eddie Munson in the eye, and a few things happen simultaneously.

Eddie drops the shard of glass, steps back with a gasp, and brings his hand up to his own neck.

Steve blinks at him, thinks there’s no fuckin’ way, and stoops to scoop up the piece of glass and test it.

He presses the point into his left palm. Eddie reaches out to stop him, then flinches away.

“Well,” Steve says, because finding his soulmate in a boathouse was not on his Bingo card for this year, but here he is, with the burning brand of a soulmark on his neck to prove it.

Eddie skitters back, breathing growing heavy, looking around with wild eyes. He doesn’t seem to see Dustin, and something snaps in Steve’s chest.

He drops the glass and steps forward. “Dustin, out,” he says, and something in his voice must be different, because Dustin doesn’t hesitate before closing the door behind him. “Eddie,” Steve says softly. “You’re okay. It’s alright. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy.”

Eddie glances at Steve’s neck, then his hand, before looking away. Something else breaks open in Steve’s chest. “I’m not mad,” he admits quietly. “Eddie, please. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He steps forward again, hope unfurling in his chest when Eddie doesn’t move. He takes another cautious step, then another, until finally he’s in front of Eddie.

Still being cautious, he raises a hand, well within Eddie’s line of sight, and lets it rest gently on Eddie’s forearm.

Eddie flinches violently, but doesn’t move away. Steve takes it as permission and places his other hand on Eddie’s other forearm. He gently rubs them up Eddie’s arms until they’re resting on his shoulders. “You’re shaking,” he whispers, swiping a thumb up and down the side of Eddie’s neck. The something in his chest heals a little.

“Y-you’re-”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, still whispering. “I am.”

“How-”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’m just- is it weird if I say I’m glad I found you?”

Eddie manages a hysterical bray of a laugh. “A girl died on my ceiling, man, this is not the weirdest part of my day.”

Steve nods. “Let’s go back to my place,” he suggests. “It’ll be a lot easier to hide there, no one will think to look for you, and we can explain everything.”

Eddie takes a breath. Another. Lets his fingers trail along Steve’s arm. Nods. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Steve whispers back, smiling a little, and Eddie copies him. His chest heals a little bit more, and suddenly Steve knows everything’s going to work out just fine.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal x teen!reader - i would notice

Hi 👋, i absolutely loved your Hannibal lecter fic so I was wondering if you could do a Hannibal × teen reader with angst or where he maybe saves them from someone or from themselves? If not that's totally fine. - Anon💜

TW: mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts and neglectful parents

Therapy.

According to everybody that was the solution to everything, all your problems would be solved if you just sat in a room with a stranger supposedly telling them everything about you.

Things you didn’t want anybody else to know.

You didn’t want to attend your sessions, but your parents were paying a lot of money for you to see this therapist, so you went to your sessions.

Though you never really said much, which was something Hannibal picked up on.

“Sometimes I do have to wonder why it is you insist on coming to your sessions if you’re just going to sit here to do homework instead.”

You shrugged a little bit, looking up from where you were sat on the floor.

“I’ve gotta do it somewhere, plus my parents pay for these sessions, it’ll be a waste of money I guess.”

“Do you not think you need it?”

“Everybody has problems I just don’t see the point in talking about it, it won’t change anything.”

“It could make it easier for you.”

You shrugged again and stood up, bringing a work book over to his desk and set it down.

Hannibal took the book so he could look at it while you dragged a chair over to sit next to him while he read through your work.

“Have you finished everything else?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s just this. I don’t really get it so I thought I’d leave it until last.”

Hannibal nodded his head, taking one of his many notebooks, and he found one with your name on it and opened it.

Over the sessions he had become used to you using the time for your homework, asking him yo help you with whatever it was you didn’t understand.

It actually helped him learn a lot about you, about your possible home life since you didn’t seem interested in talking about whatever problems you were having.

Hannibal explained the problem to you, and he gave you a brief demonstration on how to solve it before giving you the notebook so you could try it for yourself.

“How is school going? Are you still having problems with some of the other students?”

“A little, but I think I solved most of them.”

He hummed a little bit, slowly nodding his head.

“How did you manage that? Did you take my advance and ignore them?”

“Nope.”

You grinned a little bit at your therapist and went back to your homework.

“Shoved a whole bunch of shaving cream and feathers into their lockers.”

“You do realise retaliation in such a way could could make this a lot more complicated for you. They could also possibly get you into trouble as well.”

“Maybe yeah I guess.”

“What did your parents have to say?”

“The usual nothing.”

Hannibal wrote that down in another notebook and he studied you for a moment.

Usually it was obvious why people were in therapy, usually he knew before they came to the sessions or they would have told him by now but you didn’t.

He was having to rely on everything he saw, everything you did and the very few things that you had said.

Your sessions were routine, going the same way nearly all of the of the time.

So he began to notice the change in your behaviour as time went on, it was slight, only tiny changes but he noticed.

You didn’t bring your homework anymore, you would just tell him about your day, the changes in your clothing, you seemed more withdrawn.

Then you began to miss sessions, the first he didn’t think about it, the second he was a little suspicious but when it came to the third and forth he knew there was something more.

So, when he opened his door to see that you weren’t sat in the waiting room he sighed, making his way to the phone to dial your number.

He waited as it rang, and eventually it rang off into voicemail.

Hannibal went through all his files until he found yours and he grabbed his keys and jacket as he left the office.

You were usually the last appointment of the day since you liked to hang around and just spend time with him, which he never added extra costs for.

Making his way to your listed address, Hannibal looked at the large house, very expensive looking and extremely well kept.

He parked in the drive and made his way to the door, knocking a few times, waiting.

The door was opened and you blinked a few times, stepping aside and gestured to the house so you could let him in.

“What brings you by doctor lector?” You asked.

You closed the door.

“Can I take your coat?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

Hannibal handed you his jacket so you could hang it up next to yours by the door, and you led him through to the kitchen where you were before he knocked.

He watched as you carried on cooking your dinner.

“I didn’t know you were coming but you can still have some of you want.”

“No, I’m alright. But thank you. I’m actually here because you haven’t attended your sessions for the past three weeks.”

You nodded your head, setting the spoon down, and you sat on a bar stool.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting to cancel them. I know you have a policy about cancelling and whatever the fee is for not cancelling my parents can cover it.”

“That’s not why I’m here (Y/N), I’m not here about fees for cancelling.”

You seemed a little confused.

“I’m here because it isn’t like you to not turn up to your sessions, I am also aware that you haven’t been attending school recently.”

“How’d you know?”

“I called them.”

“Are you even legally allowed to do that? Can they even tell you that information?”

You were defensive.

You weren’t happy that he had called your school and you were looking for a reason to pin something on him, anything.

“I work rather closely with the FBI, I asked for favour as this behaviour is concerning.”

You nodded your head, going back to whatever your were making and you set it all aside before sitting down on the stool again.

Hannibal was stood on the other side of the counter, flicking through the recipe pages that you had left laying around.

“Can I cancel my sessions?”

Hannibal glanced up at you.

“You can, but I’d still very much like to check up on you at least once or twice a week.”

“Why? I won’t be your patient anymore.”

“Because I know you’re harming yourself, I would like to understand why. What makes you think you need to do that to yourself?”

You froze, and you tugged at your sleeves a little bit, pulling them even further.

“I’ve know for a while, I was hoping you would bring up the subject but you seem to have no interest in talking about what you’re going through.”

Hannibal walked to your cooker, and he took over making your dinner for you while you just sat there staring at the counter.

“What’s the point, it won’t change anything.”

“It can help, but people can’t help you if you won’t let them (Y/N), in order to be helped you must be willing to accept the hand that is offered to you.”

“I can’t be helped.”

You pushed yourself away from the counter you were sat at and left the kitchen, making your way into the lounge instead where you just sat down.

You turned on the TV, putting on some random show and you kicked your feet up on the table.

Hannibal followed you, setting your plate on the dining table, and he walked over, tapping your feet away from the table.

“You can be helped, nobody is beyond help.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not, now come eat and we can discuss whatever it is you’re going through.”

You didn’t bother to argue, you went to eat your dinner while Hannibal left you to eat in peace.

He came back and he set a few tubs down on the table in front of you.

“All of these are prescribed to patients who suffer from depression. How long have you been taking your medication for?” He asked.

“About a year or two, I don’t know.”

He hummed, nodding his head.

“How long have you not been taking them?”

You glanced up.

“You have been filling out your scripts, but you have a whole collection of unopened bottles.”

“About half a year I guess… I don’t know…”

“Do you plan on doing anything with those bottles?”

“No.”

“So I can take them away from you and only leave the one you’re supposed to have?”

You nodded your head.

You didn’t have any use for the old ones that you never took, you just kept filling in the scripts to keep everybody happy.

That wasn’t how you wanted to go out.

No.

You had thought about this night after night after night, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Are you here alone often?”

“My parents work a lot, they’re usually away most of the year.”

He nodded his head, taking your mostly empty plate away when you pushed it away from you.

You followed the therapist to your kitchen, climbing back up on the bar stool as you looked at him.

“Can I take a look at your arm, I would like to ensue that you don’t need any further medical attention.”

You moved your arm closer to yourself.

“Alright, that’s okay. You don’t need to show me, but I do need to know if you’re taking care to prevent infection.”

“Yeah, I know about all that stuff.”

“Good, now since you refuse to come to our sessions I will come here. A few times a week to ensure that you’re taking care of yourself.”

He did.

He kept coming by, he would talk to you, try encourage you to open up to him.

The one thing he noticed is how lonely the house seemed to be, the lack of family photos, the lack of friends around to the lack calls from your parents.

Hannibal arrived at your house like always, the first thing he noticed this time was that there was two other cars in the driveway.

Making his way up to the door he knocked, and a man answered.

“Hello, is (Y/N) home.”

“Who are you?” The man asked.

“My apologies, I’m doctor lector, their therapist. (Y/N) didn’t want to come to the office anymore so we’ve been continuing sessions here, I assume you are their father?”

“Yes, and I don’t know where they are. Look, I’m busy, go check their room or something I have meeting.”

Your dad left the door open and Hannibal walked in, making his way up the stairs to your room and he knocked on the door.

When you didn’t respond he knocked again.

“I’m opening the door.” He announced.

He pushed your door open and looked around to see that you weren’t there either.

Sighing, he made his way back to his car and tried to call your phone once more, but you never picked up.

He decided to head back to the office, deciding that he’d try and find you again tomorrow.

Hannibal didn’t know about your hideouts, where you liked to go or even have a slight idea on where you would go.

And that’s where he found you, sitting in the waiting room, and he walked over, crouching down in the front of you.

“I’ve been trying to find you.” He said gently.

You looked up, and you sniffled a little bit.

“Why do my own parents hate me…?” You asked.

Your voice cracked, and you leant back, tilting your head back to try and fight the tears that were burning your eyes.

“Let’s talk inside.”

He stood up, opening his door and you walked inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Hannibal sat in the chair in front of you, offering you a few tissues which you took.

“What makes you think your parents hate you?”

“They’ve been home for two days… haven’t even spoken to me… haven’t even looked at me… it’s like I don’t exist…”

He nodded his head.

“I.. I.. it’s like if I died they wouldn’t even care… you know? They wouldn’t even notice…”

That was enough to catch his attention.

“Do you think about dying?”

“Sometimes… I know nobody would really notice.. life would carry on…”

“That’s not true.”

You looked up at him.

“I would certainly notice, life would be very different without you in it.”

You scoffed a little bit.

“You have to say that, it’s your job.”

“If you recall you left my services, it’s not my job to say that.”

Hannibal smiled slightly at you.

“I say it because I mean it, I do worry for you, I would notice your absence if you were to die, which is why I have to ask if you plan on acting upon this urge you have.”

“Sometimes but I.. I just can’t… you know?”

He nodded his head.

“I will admit this is rather concerning, I do have to wonder if for your own safety I have you placed in psychiatric care for a few days.”

“No! Please don’t…”

Hannibal thought for a moment, wondering what to do.

“If that’s the case then perhaps we can think of something else, in order to ensure your safety and a plan to help you through these feelings and urges that you are having.”

You nodded, agreeing with this.

The first step was for you to tell him everything you had been avoiding telling anybody this whole time, then he would come up with a care plan for you to help with your recovery and show you that you were important to this world