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#I don’t want anyone to be there with me at all but I know I just won’t be able to talk to the vet and pay
incognit0slut · 3 days
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REFLECTED BLISS
When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest Requested: Here
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“Oh my god.”
“What? What is it?”
“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”
He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”
“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”
His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”
“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.” 
“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”
“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”
His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”
“What do you mean?”
His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”
You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”
He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”
Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”
“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”
You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.
Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.
He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. 
“I guess that makes sense.”
His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”
“Perks, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”
“Is it working?”
You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”
He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”
But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.
“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”
“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”
“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”
His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse. 
“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”
“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”
“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”
You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”
His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.
“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.
He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”
He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.
“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”
He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”
You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.
“Convince me more.”
He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt. 
“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”
You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”
You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you. 
"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"
Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.
"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"
More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.
His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.
"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”
His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?" 
“It’s making my clothes disappear.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”
“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”
“I do love a good magic trick.”
You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully. 
“You’re so beautiful.”
You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.
“You’re… you’re pretty too.”
His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."
You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.
His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.
You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.
With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.
“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.” 
Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.
His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own. 
You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.
“Yes, baby?”
Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.
You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”
Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.
He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours. 
Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”
You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.
“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”
You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.
The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.
“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."
Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.
"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."
Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”
“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.
"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.
"It intensifies, doesn't it?"
Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”
“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.
You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes. 
You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.
“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”
You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.
“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”
You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot. 
The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.
"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”
You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.
A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.
The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.
Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.
You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?" 
"Definitely too much.”
"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.
He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”
"Getting there.”
You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”
You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.
"Almost. Still too much."
Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.
"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.
His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”
“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"
“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "Don’t worry, all the attention is on you."
“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”
“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”
“Cockiness does not suit you.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”
You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”
“Perfect.”
His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust. 
You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.
"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.
You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.
Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.
“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”
Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.
“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”
Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.
“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin. 
"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”
Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”
The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.
You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge. 
"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.
"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”
You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside…  me.”
Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”
“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”
That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.
His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.
Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.
Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.
You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.
“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”
Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."
He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–you—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”
You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.
“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.
He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”
You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?
Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.
Maybe you should get one for your room.
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
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Hii!
(If you’re not up for it simply ignore. I love your work and hope you’re happy and healthy and taking care of your own mental health ❤️)
The bat boys with a reader who has really low days and really just wants to be held?
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I just wanted an excuse to add Kyle Rayner as a bonus cuz I’ve been wanting to write something for him but dunno what. Plus I’ve been needing something like this after the week I’ve just had lol.
Dick would smile softly as he held you in his arms, tightening his grip on you as he peppers you in kisses however he could.
He knew that days like these were the hardest for you and he wasn’t going to hold it against you, not in the slightest as he would softly hum a song to you as he carried you to your shared bed, Hayley hot on his heels as she was worried about your change of attitude.
Speaking of Hayley, she never leaves your side, in fact when she sees Dick hold you against him , she immeditly joins in and tries to wriggle her way in between you both in hopes of covering your face in comforting licks. She wants to see you happy and she’ll gladly cuddle up with you if that’s the only way to do it.
Dick would spoil you rotten with cuddles, kisses and words of encouragement when you felt as though all hope was lost, for the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though no one had you back when he did this entire time of being together.
‘You’re amazing baby and I’m so fucking proud of you, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise you otherwise because you outshine them without having to try.’ He says while pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Dick would gladly make a fool of himself if it was to make you feel better but holding you, kissing you, and praising you will have to do for the meantime as he could hope that he has given you the strength needed to get out of this dark place that you’ve found yourself in.
He believes you can do it but until then he’ll gladly hold you until you could stand on your own two feet again.
Jason doesn’t need to be told twice as he was well aware of what you want the moment you came through the door of your shared bedroom.
‘Come here sweetheart.’ He would say as he sets aside his book and held out his arms for you to burrow into as you rested your head on his chest, arms latching onto his waist with an iron like grip.
He didn’t need to ask about the day you’ve had for he could feel the fatigue and weariness within your body and the deep sigh that left your lips that told him you have been holding in for a long while. Your body practically radiated with tiredness in all its forms that made it impossible for him to ignore even if he tried.
‘Rest your heavy head and your weary eyes chipmunk,’ he tells you as he begins to rub up and down your back soothingly, ‘I’ll be right here when you wake up, so just relax for me okay?’
You hummed out a small and a tad muffled ‘okay’ and Jason presses a kiss to the side of your head as he tightens his hold on you. He’d even read passages of his book to you in hopes the tit would take your mind off of things quicker as he knew how much you liked the sound of his voice.
Jason knows there’s want much he could do when you experienced days like these but all he could hope was that he was making enough of an effort to make you feel just that little bit better.
Tim makes sure he has everything you could ever need during days like these such as your favourite plushie, blanket, comfort foods, and some water just to name a few as he wants you to be comfortable and taken care of if he was to not be moving away from the bed anytime soon as he held you in his arms.
He just wants you to be okay and doesn’t want you run in on an empty stomach.
‘We’re human, we have limitations and breaking points that tell us to stop and take a break for ourselves, but yet we have been made to think that we shouldn’t and that we should neglect our health and well-being for temporary achievements and successes; almost as if that’s the only thing that should mean something to us.’ Tim tells you as he cuddles you against his chest as a movie played on his laptop as background noise.
‘You’ve done so well for yourself and now your more then deserving of a rest, we’ll return to reality in our own time, we’ve got enough of it that it shouldn’t matter whether we’re still here an hour or two later.’ Tim continues as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
And he meant it, Tim didn’t care how kind he’d have to wait for you to get better because he understood that it wasn’t going to be as easy, having had shit days where he couldn’t be bothered to bring himself to do anything other then lay in his bed, wondering to himself about what he could’ve done to feel such deep pain and isolation.
He knew that it would take time for you to feel even remotely better and even when you did you’ll still need all the help you can possibly get, and he’ll be there for as long as you’ll need him there too.
Damian isn’t well versed in the art of comforting someone but with you, suddenly he’s an expert as he lets you flop against his side as he holds you protectively.
He doesn’t trust his words enough to bring you any comfort as he wasn’t given much himself when he was growing up, so Damian instead just lets you cling onto him and watch in silence as he draws whatever in his sketchbooks: in this instance it was quick sketch of you, him and all of his pets on a field somewhere.
Damian knew his drawings were somewhat therapeutic to you as you got to watch him go through every step he took to make the perfect drawing, no matter if it was heavily detailed or less so, that and he was proud of his artwork that he doesn’t mind showing you some of his precious works and telling you the stories behind them.
Titus joins you, obviously, as he could tell something was wrong with you and will lay in your lap to provide you with some comfort until he’s fallen fast asleep, rendering it impossible for you to move but you didn’t care and neither did Damian as you were surly to follow the Great Dane into dream land where you would be laying in that field that Damian drew.
You were a lot more stronger then you let yourself believe in Damian’s eyes but that didn’t mean he wasn’t more then content in holding you in comfortable silence until you felt better, even if it was just a little bit but even then Damian was determined to outdo himself and find other ways of helping you no matter what.
He just wants to see that smile he loved so much again that told him that everything was going to be okay.
Random Bonus character: Kyle Rayner
Kyle hates seeing you so down and will do absolutely anything and everything he could even if it meant only getting a little smile out of you he’d take it wholeheartedly!
Anything was better then that distant, solemn look on your face as you stared out the window as though life didn’t look as bright or pleasant anymore as it did before.
He’d conjure up anything your heart desired if that helped even by the smallest amount, any amount of progress was better then none. Kyle just wants to see your eyes light up again with childlike wonder again, even if it was momentarily.
However he doesn’t mind if him holding you in his arms was the only way to achieve such a thing as he could keep you close and squeeze you tightly as he tries to pour everything encouraging into your ears in low hushed whispers.
‘You’ll be okay,’ Kyle begins, ‘whether that’s within days, weeks or even months, you’ll be okay. You’re not missing out on anything nor are you going about life at a slower pace compared to others, you’re going at your own pace and that’s okay, you’ll get where you need to be in due time so there’s no point in rushing yourself to get there quicker.’
Kyle would even do some silly little doodles for you just to hear you chuckle or even let out an amused huff. He’d gladly make himself look silly if it meant brining a little light to your heart and life back into your eyes.
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definitelysel · 19 hours
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PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒
WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?
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featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.
synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.
warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)
a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.
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DILUC 🍷
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PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 
He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.
One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?
That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.
“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.
If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.
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ALHAITHAM 🌱
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PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.
Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?
Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.
“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.
“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.
This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.
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ZHONGLI 🪨
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PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.
"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."
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WRIOTHESLEY 🐺
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PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.
"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.
“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 
He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…
[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.
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NEUVILLETTE 🌊
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PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.
Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.
“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 
“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.
Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.
He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.
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a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??
don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.
©definitelysel
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492 notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 7 hours
Text
TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup
fem reader
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You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.
It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.
You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.
At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.
He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.
You’re breaking up with him.
He’s confused afterward, too.
You’re breaking up with him?
That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 
You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.
No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.
“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.
“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.
You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—
“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”
“No—”
“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”
“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”
“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”
“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”
“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”
You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…
“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”
There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.
“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”
When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.
“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”
He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.
“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”
And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 
That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.
Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.
But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.
He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!
The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.
There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.
He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.
When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.
He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.
And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.
And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.
You will be his again.
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BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks
JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna or Toji
HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK – Reo
AOT – Eren
574 notes · View notes
clockwayswrites · 2 days
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 15
Danny was sitting on his bed, legs crossed with his blue bear set on his lap. He was stroking a thumb over it’s nose, gaze absently out the window.
Jason leaned against the door frame. “Danny?”
The blue eyes snapped to Jason. They were a different color from Bruce’s, just slightly. There was that damning green ring around the outside of the iris, just like Jason’s own, but the green bled less into the blue for Danny.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry,” Danny said with a small smile and a duck of his head. He moved his hand from the bear’s nose to rub at the back of his neck. “I guess it’s just been a long day.”
“Makes sense, lot of busyness all day,” Jason agreed. It really had been. From meeting Steph with breakfast to games after when Tim joined them at lunch, new phone in hand, and then with Duke there briefly for dinner, fully suited up, the safe house had been full all day. Jason had worried about it being too much, but Danny seemed happy, if slightly quiet. But then again, Danny was almost always quiet. “Do you need me to stay? Nightwing will be here in about two hours to change over with B.B., but I’ll stay if you need me to.”
“No, you should go,” Danny insisted. “I’ll just be asleep, I figure I’m going to crash after today.”
Jason smiled a little. It was nice to have Danny sound more like a kid lately. “I bet. Call me if you need, O will make sure that the number on the phone patches into my comms.”
“What if you’re busy?”
“Then O will talk to you herself or pass you to another Bat. There’s always one of us around for you.”
Danny’s smile looked a little wobbly as he nodded, and Jason gave into ruffling the kid’s hair before he left to go make a much needed appearance at Crime Alley.
-
“You’re healing well,” Nigthwing said as he smoothed down the last bandage.
“Yeah,” Danny said softly, ruffling the towel one more time through his hair so that he didn’t have to look at Nightwing.
It was still a marvel to be touched gently like that.
They all showed such care with him and his wounds. It made everything all the more obvious to Danny. Nightwing and the others were interested to see if he was healing so that he could be well. His par— they had been interested for far different reasons.
He hadn’t seen it when he was a kid with scrapped knees from falling off his bike.
Now he couldn’t unsee it.
He was always an experiment to them, wasn’t he? He was never their kid. If he had been their kid they wouldn’t have been able to cut into— to take— to do… to do….
“Danny?”
Danny sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and tried to blink away the memories. “What?”
“There you are.” Nightwing’s smile was sad as he brushed back a lock of Danny’s hair. Hadn’t Nightwing just been wearing gloves?
Danny ran his fingers over his bear, grounding himself in the soft texture. His bear. He was on the couch wrapped in a blanket holding his bear.
He had just been in the bathroom.
Danny blinked slowly. “I, um…”
“It’s okay. You just went away for a bit. I moved you when you stopped answering me. It’s been about seven minutes. Nothing’s happened.”
“Oh.”
Hadn’t he been getting better? He hadn’t thought… Why did he have to think about them?
“Hey, Danny, it’s okay, you don’t have to cry,” Nightwing said, “or, you know, cry if you need to! That’s okay too. Just, we’re not going to let anyone hurt you here.”
Danny sniffled and turned his head to rub his face against the blanket. Nightwing shouldn’t promise that— he couldn’t promise that. They didn’t know what Danny was. They didn’t know who was after him. It was unfair to ask that of them— to make them feel like they had to promise him that.
“I’m okay,” Danny said with a watery smile.
He wasn’t.
“How about a movie?” Nightwing suggested and Danny was grateful for the out.
He tried not to cling as they settled into the couch to watch through the Jurassic Park movies.
“The newest one is stupid in all the right ways,” Nightwing said cheerfully. He must have known that Danny wanted to cling, because he tucked Danny close after everything was set up.
Danny watched the movie without seeing it.
They thought they had to take care of him.
They couldn’t promise that. They didn’t even have the whole story. Sure, Hood had died too, but he was so different than Danny in that. Hood had come back. Hood was alive. Danny didn’t count as alive anymore, not even in this form.
Did Danny ever really count as alive?
He was just an experiment.
A test.
He was never supposed to have ever been.
Danny let his eyes close. What movie were they on now? Did it matter?
Did any of it matter?
He wasn’t supposed to have ever been.
Maybe he shouldn’t have ever been, but there he was. There he was, dead and alive. A child and a monster. And he knew, worst of all, because of what he was they would never let him go. Danny knew that, it’s why he had run to Gotham. He thought that maybe if he could just get the money to leave the country somehow… Bruce Wayne had to be able to do that. Even if— even though there’s no way that Wayne would care about Danny, he had hoped maybe he could get the help. A one off to be out of Bruce Wayne’s life forever and not a media scandal. He just needed to…
The gentle fingers carding through his hair started to chase away Danny’s thoughts.
But the Bats had found him.
The Bats had found him and the Bats cared.
Danny wanted that. Danny wanted that so desperately that it hurt him. He’d been just taking advantage of it too, hadn’t he? Because he wanted it he’d been taking it without them knowing what he was. And now they were acting like they wanted him to stay.
But they didn’t know.
Danny’s breath caught in his throat, feeling like it was choking him.
He had run to Gotham. He had run to Gotham but that wouldn’t stop them. They would find him here. They would find him and because of him they would find Hood. They would find Hood and take him too. And then they would find Robin. They would find all these wonderful, kind people that had been touched by death in all these ways and they would take them. They would take them and cut them apart and—
Danny bit his lip so that he couldn’t make a sound.
They would find him if he made a sound.
“It’s okay Danny, just rest.”
Danny’s eyes snapped open. The afternoon light from the window in his room was playing across his face. His heart thudded in his chest. He was afraid.
But he was afraid with a sense of certainty that he hadn’t had before.
-
“Go get Danny for lunch,” Jason said as he flipped the sandwich on the pan with the same intense focus that he did everything these days.
Dick had to fight back a smile. Getting to be around his little wing so much over the past weeks had been great. Sure, Jason was still mulish and snapped easily, but Dick had also gotten to see so much more of who Jason was behind that defense. Dick loved getting to see that. Giving into the urge to smile, Dick gave a little salute and swung himself off the counter.
Maybe if they were lucky all this could continue after they got Danny settled. It had to, right? Jason seemed pretty attached to Danny, not that Dick could talk, so Jason was sure to come over to see their new brother. Dick would still have time with Jason.
Dick gave a soft knock on Danny’s door before opening it a crack. If Danny was still asleep, Dick didn’t want to startle him.
Except Danny wasn’t still asleep.
Danny wasn’t even in the room.
The bed was fixed and Danny’s tablet and phone sat neatly in the middle.
“He just in the bathroom,” Dick tried to assure himself even as his instincts screamed that was wrong. Silently, silently purely out of habit, Dick approached the bed.
The tablet’s screen was on.
Dick picked it up with hands that only stayed steady from years of training.
No.
No, no, no—
“Jason!”
-
Thank you. Thank you for saving me and caring for me and wanting me. Thank you. You all mean so much to me and that’s why I have to go. I have to go before they find me and then find you all too. I can’t let them find you. I’ll never forget you. Don’t look for me. -Danny
--- AN: *puts on my halo* I'm innocent?
This prob could use a few more editing passes but I am still sick and tired so taaaada (no concrit needed, it will get edited before ao3). Hopefully you all still enjoyed(?) it! Stay delightful, darlings.
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hoe4sports · 3 days
Text
“Take my heart, dont break it”
Alexia Putellas x reader
A/N: You voted and picked Alexia. This is a series based on Myles Smith song called stargazing. No triggers.
Update 3rd of June: There will be three more parts, thank you all so much for the love.
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The fresh Barcelonian air was flowing into your hotelroom as you found yourself sat in the frame of the window m next to one of your teammates, Alexia Putellas. You were both sitting together in silence with your eyes closed soaking up the morning bliss. The sun was slowly waking up as the gentle rays felt like a warm cup of cocoa in December by the fireplace with a book and a blanket. Not too warm, not too cold. You were taking in all the fresh salty air you could possibly fit into your lungs before exhaling through your mouth. It felt blissful, peaceful; like a morning mindfulness class. You could smell the gentle strawberry scent from the tea Alexia had made you when you got up in time for sunrise. You and Alexia had known each other forever. You grew up with her and Alba next door and you had religiously played football with Alexia for your whole life. You did it all together: High school, college, Barcelona and the national team. You sat together on buses and flights. Even though she was entitled to her own hotel room as captain; she still wanted to partner up with you.
“Can I interrupt your peace?” Alexia asked as you opened up your eye to see her still in the same relaxed position with her eyes closed. “If you must” you said as you giggled. Alexia sighted. “No, no, go ahead big al” you corrected as you looked out on the beach below the hotel.
“I’ve been having some issue with Olga; she seems spaced out. She’s there, but she isn’t really there. It’s strange, I don’t really understand and she keeps insisting that everything is all good. I dont honestly know what to do.”
You could sense the tension in the room as the Catalan poured her heart out to you. It was like thunder from a crystal blue sky. They seemingly had the picture perfect relationship. Amazing vacations. Nice cars. Fancy dinners.
“It’s just, I know it’s selfish but I can’t stop my mind from wondering if she is cheating on me. She’s always on her phone, and she deleted her location off of the life360 app.”
You spent a second figuring out what words Alexia wanted to hear and what she needed to hear. It was clear as day that you needed to knock some common sense into her. Who would cheat on one of the hottest women in the world of football? Nobody could ever be able to commit to adultery without anyone taking notice of their famous girlfriend.
“Ai, Ale. Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear or what you need to hear? Pick your poison capitana.”
You looked over at her. She was still sitting in the sun in the window while taking on the fresh air. Her chest rhythmically rising. Her brown eyes were still closed and her blonde hair was up in the messiest Lucy Bronze style bun you could imagine making the sight of her almost wanting you to giggle.
“Hm, buena pregunta…Tell me what I need to hear.” Alexia said softly as she opened up her eyes to look at you showing off her worried grin. Her body language changed. Like she was getting ready for a fight.
“Estúpida, Olga loves you! She adores you. She practically worships the ground you walk on. You need to talk to your girlfriend, and you need to tell her what you told me.” You finished as you looked at her with an attitude.
Later that day at practice, you were doing drills with Claudia. It was evidently warmer now, and you had popped off your shirt to avoid getting overly warm. You kept passing the ball at the right time in the right height to help Claudia with her first touches. It was always fun working with Claudia. Her humor was incredible and if her humor didn’t do the job; her infections laugh would. As you passed the last ball to Claudia, she ended up whacking the ball senseless and the ball went flying into the open field. It caused you to laugh hysterically as Claudia flopped down on the grass. Claudia was a vibe; you got along so well and she’d been like your little sister.
The next practice begun at the gym, and it was individual programs. You, Alexia, Claudia and Ingrid has the same program for the day meaning that you partnered up together. You noticed that Alexia seemed distracted. At first, she had placed the weights in the bench press without securing them causing them to go flying off the pole. The next situation was when she tried filling her waterbottle from the water cooler and she overfilled in for a good 10 seconds before she caught the little spill. The last situation was when Claudia was doing squats and Alexia was supposed to be spotting her right side as you spotted the left. The weights were a little heavier than what Claudia normally lifted so you expected her to need assistance. After four lifts, Claudia went for the fifth and it caused her to fail. You grabbed the pole from the left side as the younger girls hands were wobbly violently to hold up the other side of the pole. Alexia didn’t caught on. “Alexia” No answer. “Alexia for fucks sake, help!” You yelled causing Ingrid to shove her away to help you with the spotting.
In the warderobe that afternoon after everyone left, you decided to stay behind and talk to Alexia again. Alexia liked taking her time in the shower so it wasn’t uncommon for her to be the last woman standing. You approached her as she stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around her lower half leaving her chest open.
“Ale, you have been distant. You could’ve caused an injury. What’s going on?” You crossed your arms as you stood in front of her with a stern look on your face. The feeling you had wasn’t something you could shook away easily. You just couldn’t act in situations that maybe had happened. That wouldn’t be fair to Olga or Alexia.
“Ai, Y/N, it’s just hard. I’m in my head and Olga is too busy to talk. I cannot shook the feeling I’m having in my gut. But I need to trust Olga, right?”
You nodded. Olga hadn’t done anything that wouldn’t give her chance to explain herself. For all Alexia knew, this was all just a big misunderstanding.
Olga was amazing, you knew her from before her and Alexia started dating, and they were perfect for each other. Olga was always so perfect, almost to the point where it annoyed you. Olga was picture perfect and rarely looked out of line or did Alexia wrong. Alexia’s observations were however not unlikely. A few weeks ago you went to a new restaurant with Claudia, and you could’ve sworn you saw Olga with another woman. You couldn’t be sure though because you had excused yourself to the bathroom to get a better look, but when you got out of the bathroom; The mystery woman was out of sight. Quite frankly, she had also been out of mind.
That was until now however, but it couldn’t have been Olga. Olga was sweet, genuine and had a heart of gold. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what Alexia had said, but you could also not tell her that you might saw Olga. You were having an internalised conflict of trying to decided whenever to tell her or not. You didn’t want to seem pushy and like you didn’t like Olga, but you didn’t want Alexia’s heart to break either.
At least, that was the lie you continued to tell yourself.
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foreingersgod · 3 days
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i saw ur post that u write for paige… maybe a teammate fic? i don’t really have a plot in mind but i trust that beautiful brain of yours 😁
Friendly Banter . PB
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
synopsis: you and paige may be teammates, but it’s hard to get anything done if you also happen to be dating
A/N: iiiiii kind of hate this :(
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“your defending could use a bit of work, baby” you heard a familiar voice from the sidelines “don’t you think?”
you held back a smile, kissing your teeth as you turned on your heels. there was no one else in the gym except you and paige, the two of you deciding to get some extra drills in before practice tomorrow morning. you had just been practicing some shots and different dribbling drills while paige sat back to stretch for a while. there wasn’t anyone to defend, rather paige just wanted an excuse to tease you.
“i think my defense is actually quite good i’ll have you know,” you scoffed, bouncing the ball slowly as she walked towards you “what exactly could use the work, hm?”
“well for starters,” she said, matter of factly, cocking her head to the side. she rubbed her hands together and shrugged in your direction “you’re not being physical enough”
that made you chuckle, throwing your head back lightly in amusement. you nodded your head and rolled your eyes, “oh really?”
“really, i’d never lie to you, babe”
“care to enlighten me then?” you asked, her tall figure now standing over yours “i mean, you’re kinda obligated to help your girlfriend out, right?”
“oh i’d be more than happy to” she snickered, licking her lips as she looked you up and down. she got lost in you for a moment, you could tell, her eyelashes fluttered against the smooth skin under her eye as she surveyed your every move.
“well then show me, smarty pants,” you shoved her chest slightly, feeling yourself growing flustered by her intimate glances. you’d never get tired of the way she looked at you “what do i need to do?”
she slid past you, hands gripping your waist to hold you in your place as she came up behind you. it was silent in the empty gymnasium apart from the sounds of paige’s shoes squeaking against the varnished floors as she assumed her position. you were now facing the same direction, your back to paige’s chest as she leaned against you.
“you gotta be more assertive, you know?” she all but enticed, talking seductively into your ear. she was so close to you that you could feel her warm breathe on your neck “don’t be afraid to push your opponent around a little bit”
“i’m gonna defend you while you try to drive it in,” she continued “and i’ll show you how it’s really done”
you snorted, blowing a nervous breathe from your nose. she always knew how to get you riled up. her hands were hovering over you as you thought of a strategy to get the ball past paige. you began dribbling the ball, backing into her slowly which caused you to collide with her. the curve of your backside fit comfortably against her pelvic bone. instantly, you could sense paige’s breathe hitch at the contact, making you smirk. knowing its effect, you backed up even more, pushing against her harder to push your way closer to the net. she defended you to the best of her ability as she tried to keep you away, but the way your hips moved against her made it difficult for her to focus. while she was caught off guard, you faked her out and sprinted around her to drive it up and into the net. you cheered for yourself as paige shook her head in defeat, rubbing her hand across her jaw in disbelief.
“that’s how it’s supposed to be done?” you laughed, scrunching your nose “and you say my defense needs work?”
“that’s not fair,” she said “you were distracting me and you know it”
“i was just playin’ the game, paige! you’re the one who can’t get her mind out of the gutter long enough to defend me!” you came up to her, hands finding their way up to her shoulders, giving them a gentle rub.
“can you blame me?” she furrowed her brows “i don’t know anyone can even play at all when you’re out there on the court”
“maybe that’s my method of defense” you beckoned, teasing her harmlessly. you nodded your head behind you, motioning to your ass “don’t have to do much if everyone’s looking elsewhere”
she looked at you offended, raising her eyebrows as she widened her eyes “oh it better not be, nobody should be looking at my girl like that except for me”
“whatever,” you smiled, protective paige was your favorite “you have nothing to worry about, baby, nobody’s looking at anybody”
“you better hope so” she said, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips “or you’re gonna be in trouble”
the tone of her voice made your knees weak, this was her way of getting back at you for your little comment. you kissed her once more before she pulled away from you, starting to make her way back to where both of your belongs sat on the sidelines.
“oh how so?” you prodded, already knowing the answer. you followed her as you chased her down, watching as she packed up her things. she handed you your duffel bag and draped her own over her shoulder.
“i could tell you,” she began as you both started to make your way out of the gym, heading for your car. she placed a strong hand on the small of your back, fingers snaking under your shirt, tugging you into her side with force “but id much rather show you instead”
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judes-hoe · 3 days
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My winner ~ JB5
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Parrings ~ Jude Bellingham x reader
Summary ~ you and Jude have been dating since his Birmingham days and he finally got the two things he’s dreamed of.
Warnings ~ super fluffy in the beginning, then… p in v(unprotected don’t do this!), creampie(2), praise, a little subby Jude, pet names.
A/N ~ enjoy☺️!
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You and Jude have been dating since his Birmingham days. You had moved into his neighborhood when you were 6-7 and you and Jude quickly became friends. You went to every match you could. Once you got older you and Jude confessed your feelings to each other.
That’s when things got serious, you convinced your parents to move to Germany with him, the only reason they said yes was because Denise, Jude’s mom, would be with you guys.
You were with him the whole time at Germany, going through the bad and good times with that club.
Then he moved to Madrid, you knew that was his dream and when he had made the deal with them. He was in tears and hugging you and you couldn’t stop telling him how happy you were of him.
The move to Madrid was easy, the only hard part being not understanding people. But you and Jude took lessons together.
You were happy watching his achievements in the LaLiga, and the Champions League. Getting man of the match, and player of the month.
Now sat with his family watching the Champions League final. You were sat next to Jobe; squeezing his hand when Jude would fall to the ground, or when Madrid had a chance to score but missed.
When Madrid got the first goal you jumped out of your seat cheering, the hugging Jobe tightly. Then a few minutes later, Jude assisted Vini. You watched as Jude fell to his knees, he knew they won it.
The Jude got subbed off and you couldn’t stop bouncing your leg in the final minutes. When Dortmund had scored, you accidentally squeezed Jobe’s hand to tight and he winced in pain. “Sorry.” You mumbled to him and he just nodded his head rubbing his hand to sooth it.
But the goal was offsides and Jobe gave you a massive side eye. When that final whistle blew you were so happy and proud. Hugging Jobe tight and rocking side to side. Then hugging Mark and Denise.
You watched as he got his medal, and lifted the trophy. Celebrating with his teammates. He whispered something to one of the coaches, who then smiled at him and left. Jude coming over to you and his family. You stood back wanting him to have a moment with his family first.
He then walked over to you waiting by the barrier. He smiled at you and lifted you over the barrier placing you on the other side with him. He then kissed you deeply earning some cheers from the Madrid crowd that was still there. He pulled you with him to walk.
“Jude I’m so incredibly proud of you, I know this is your dream and you e finally accomplished it.” You spoke and stopped walking turning to him and grabbing his face to look at him. “Your family is definitely proud of you more than me.” You said thumb stroking his cheek. “I’m just happy you’re here and I wouldn’t want any other girl to celebrate this, you’re my girl and only my girl.” He spoke with a smile on his face looking at you with his brown eyes that were just full of love.
You and Jude walk to some of his teammates, while you talk to some of his teammates. Cama and Tchouameni you haven’t even noticed Jude disappear and come back. All you remember was the two men in front of you smirking but you didn’t think much of it.
“Come with me.” Jude said holding out his hand. You gladly take it and he walks you to the middle of the pitch. “What-.” You say but Jude’s stops you. “Just listen.” He says and takes a deep breath.
“You’ve been with me my whole life practically, you’ve watched me from academy, to Birmingham, to Dortmund, to now in Madrid, you’ve been with me through my highs and lows, you’ve been there to comfort me after a bad match, you’ve been my shoulder to cry on, I truly can’t see myself with anyone else but you.” He spoke with love and sincere.
You watched him as he gets on one knee and pull out a black box. “So will you marry me.” He asked opening the box but fumbles a little from nerves. You stare at him with tears in your eyes. “Yes Jude, I’ll marry you.” You said with a sob. He quickly puts the ring on your finger and stands up pulling you into a loving kiss. Cheers erupting from behind you, from his family, and his teammates.
You blush deeply as Jude pulls away and leans his head on your forehead. “I love you.” He whispers. “I love you too.” You say back.
You and Jude turn to walk back to his teammates and you walk over to his family. His teammates giving him little pats on the back and praise. “It’s beautiful.” Denise said holding your hand looking at the ring. “I’m so happy for you both, I always knew you’d both last forever.” She said pulling you into a hug. Mark and Jobe joining.
Jude comes over and joins the hug also planting a kiss on your head.
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You and Jude are back at the hotel you’ve been staying at the past couple of days. He immediately pushes you to the bed kissing you and not pulling away. “Let me give you my proper celebration first.” You said pulling away. “Ok baby, but then it’s my turn.” He said flipping over so he’s laying on the bed. You smirk and start taking all his clothes off.
Once he’s got all his clothes off, you take all of yours off. You climb onto of him, jerking his cock off and spread the pre cum around his tip. You line him up and sink down onto him in one go. You let out a soft moan and he lets out a groan gripping your hips.
You start rocking your hips slowly to get used to him a little more. “Please baby faster.” Jude begs and the grip on your hips tighten. “Anything for my winner.” You said speeding up you movements and adding a little bounce. You smirk as an idea comes to mind.
You grab the medal around his neck and tug it slightly. Jude letting out a small groan. His cock twitching a little inside you.
You smirk and do it again. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He moans out thrusting his hips into you. “Cum for me, cum inside me Jude, I’m right with you.” You bend down and whisper into his ear with a moan. He cock twitches before his cum paints your inside. The feeling of it making you cum right behind him.
Taking a little breather, he pulls out and can feel both your cum dripping out. He flips you both over so he’s on top. Thrusting back into you. “Fuck Jude!” You moan out. He goes fast, skin clapping filling the room. “Such a good girl for me.” He mumbles looking down where he’s going in and out.
You tug on his medal again and pull it for him to come down and pull him for a kiss. “Jude, Jude im gonna cum again.” You moan into the kiss. “Cum for me darling.” He said pulling away and taking a hand to rub your clit. That sends you over the edge and you cum around him your pussy clenching around him. “Fuck I’m cumming!” He said doing one final thrust and cums inside again.
You both breathing heavily. He pulls out and kisses you softly before going to the bathroom and getting a warm cloth cleaning you up. Then grabbing you pajamas to put on, helping you but then on. He just throws on a pair of boxers and basketball shorts.
“Goodnight my soon to be wife.” He whispered pulling you to his chest kissing your head. “Goodnight my soon to be husband.” You say back with a whisper and kiss his bare chest.
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solemnarration · 1 day
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𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter two
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, controlling mother, reader wears a dress and heels, use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: reader wears a dress and has feminine style so i’m sorry if that doesn’t match your style!! i was debating leaving any clothing descriptions out but it really helped me with writing a character in juxtaposition to tashi, so i decided to do it 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭
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𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘. 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 – 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟗, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔
“God, this house is huge,” you commented as you entered the venue of the party Adidas was throwing for Tashi. 
Since it was practically a guarantee that she’d win the Junior US Open, Adidas was justified in going all-out for their rising star. The party took place outside, boasting a dancefloor, string lights, places for photo opportunities, and Tashi’s new trophy displayed for everyone to admire. As her best friend, you were undoubtedly biassed, but you thought Tashi deserved it. She was more committed to tennis than anyone you’d ever met.
Tashi laughed. “I know, right? Still smaller than yours, though.” When you shot her an unimpressed look, she grinned and wrapped her arms around your shoulder. “I’m kidding! Your house just looks bigger because it’s so empty and lifeless.”
“That house is anything but empty,” you disagreed. “It’s filled to the brim with my mother’s dreams and expectations for me.” Tashi snorted. “Don’t forget the linen closet that holds all my wasted potential.”
“Just a linen closet?”
“Don’t worry, it’s growing by the minute. Soon it’ll take up that whole damn mansion.”
Tashi grinned and shook her head. “Alright, let’s change the subject,” she decided. She knew you liked to joke about your poor relationship with your controlling mother, but she wanted you to let loose and have fun tonight. You had played such an incredible game that afternoon. Tashi hoped you would be in a good mood regardless of the berating your mother gave you when you lost. “You look unbelievable! I think you may be upstaging me at my own party.”
You wore a blush pink Blumarine mini dress that was stunning. It had a feminine silhouette made of a lightweight fabric, with dainty sheer cap sleeves and a delicate silver sequin pattern scattered across the bust. The skirt fell to mid-thigh and had a thigh slit with a white lace trim, which perfectly matched your white heeled Sam Edelman sandals. You had styled your hair in the way that always made you feel most confident and barely had any jewellery on, letting the dress speak for itself.
Chuckling, you motioned to Tashi’s gorgeous, shimmery dark blue dress and long locks. “T, you really don’t have to worry about me upstaging you,” you assured her. “I sincerely doubt anyone’s looking at me, and for good reason! You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
The sun and the moon. Tashi’s bright-coloured dress stood out and made a gorgeous contrast with her hair and skin, while your dress was the most vibrant thing about you. As always, she shined, and you were there to facilitate her glow; you were soft and gentle, and she was bold and captivating. Your dress walked the line between playful and elegant, whereas Tashi’s dress was sophisticated and gave her a striking impression. Every choice you made to style yourself always felt like you were standing in Tashi’s shadow. Not in a negative way, but that was the natural dynamic you fell into.
“You’re gorgeous too, Y/I,” Tashi insisted. “Now come on, we have some celebrating to do!”
After the expected socialising you always did at these events, the adults finally let you and Tashi have fun to commemorate your best friend’s first US Open win. When the DJ played Toxic by Britney Spears, Tashi dragged you to the checkerboard dance floor for some well-deserved dancing. Under the lights, you twirled each other around, your combined laughter echoing over the general noise of the party as your hips swayed to the rhythm of the music. You did your best to let go of the day’s anxiety, moving with carefree abandon and enjoying your time with your best friend. 
Tashi beamed at you, noticing how genuine and relaxed your laughter and body seemed. You were usually tense and anxious, but you’d thrown caution to the wind and basked in the opportunity to have fun. Your face had heated up from the dancing, and your heartbeat was elevated, which made it look like you were soaring. As you swayed gracefully on the dance floor, Art and Patrick’s eyes followed your every move, captivated by your effortless beauty. Their hearts raced in unison, breaths quickening with admiration and longing. A magnetic pull tugged them towards you, allowing their gazes to linger on you like you were the moon in the night sky, bewitching and glowing. 
Feeling eyes on you, you twirled and spotted two guys with their eyes glued to you and Tashi at one of the nearby round tables. They were unabashedly leering at you two with vacant, astonished eyes as you danced together. Pressing your lips together to suppress laughter, you leaned closer to Tashi and said, “We have an audience.”
Her eyes sparkled with mirth. She lifted her arms over her head as she danced, spinning in time with the music and taking the opportunity to look at the ogling boys. “My God, that’s the opposite of subtle,” Tashi commented, entertained by their stares. “Just ignore them.”
To egg the boys on, Tashi took your hand and pulled you closer as a Nelly song started playing. When she began shimmying her shoulders to entertain you, you laughed. You spun in a circle and shimmied with her, mirroring her moves. Unconstrained and without much care for how you looked, you closed your eyes and let the music take over. Your arms swayed freely above your head, fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air as your hips swayed and feet moved with the pulsating beat of the song. You were lost in a world where nothing else mattered but this joyous celebration of your friend’s success.
Not only that, but you believed you had just played your last major Open. Once you started college later that month, you’d be free.
Patrick and Art didn’t care if you had noticed them gawking. 
Your beauty had them spellbound, and their eyes were enchanted, unable to look away even if they wanted to. The rhythmic beat of the music was synchronised with their hearts, pounding with every pulse as they yearned to dance beside you. Patrick sighed happily as the slinky material of your blush pink dress highlighted your figure as you moved, revealing the sheen of sweat on your collarbones and decolletage. When Tashi put her hands on your waist and pulled you close, it was almost too much for them.
“Oh my God,” Art whispered.
“Oy,” Patrick agreed, shaking his head as he smirked. Art may have been entranced from the moment you walked out onto the tennis court, but this was when Patrick decided he had to have you.
As the song faded into the next, you and Tashi were panting. You fanned your face as Tashi asked, “Drink time?” Nodding in agreement, you followed her off the dance floor to the table where you’d left your drinks earlier. 
Art and Patrick’s heads followed you as you left, bodies stumbling after you when they realised this was their opportunity to talk to you. As you and Tashi sipped your fancy French orange soda, the guys watching you earlier approached. 
“Hey!” the first one exclaimed. This boy had dark brown curly hair, a blue polo shirt, and a grin that looked like he meant trouble. “I’m Patrick Zweig.”
The blond in the pink button-up added, “Art Donaldson.”
Tashi smirked at the way they were fawning over the two of you. “I know who you are,” she admitted. Her gaze swept from Art to Patrick, adding, “You’re Fire and Ice, right?”
Art stared at her. “Oh my God,” he said in a low tone.
Patrick, smoother and less easily rattled by pretty girls, happily confirmed, “In the flesh.” 
“Of course!” You tried not to laugh as you eyed Patrick and recognised him. He was the one with the… unique serve. “How could I forget? Nice game today.” 
You sat on one of the orange wicker chairs, and Tashi followed suit, crossing one leg over the other. She looked up at the boys through her lashes, wondering, “Which one’s which?” 
“What do you think?” Patrick challenged her. 
As he and Tashi shared a loaded stare, you bit your lower lip, trying not to look as amused as you felt. Guys like Patrick came and hit on Tashi all the time; it wasn’t anything either of you hadn’t seen before. Like always, you sat on the sidelines and waited patiently for Tashi to reject whoever took up her time so the two of you could enjoy your evening. You tucked your right ankle behind your left and relaxed against your backrest, watching the events unfold.
“You were fucking incredible today,” Art complimented. The words practically stumbled from his lips as if he couldn’t help himself. The blond’s deep blue gaze flickered to you. His cheeks reddened when he met your eyes, causing you to tilt your head curiously. This was new. Guys barely gave you the time of day around Tashi, which was exactly how you liked it. Art’s blatant and visible adoration was different. “Both of you. I’ve never seen anyone serve like that before,” he added.
“Thanks,” you acknowledged, lips curving. You leaned forward, placing your hands on your bare thighs and smirking. “I did lose, though,” you pointed out, teasing Art. “Don’t you feel bad for me?”
Art stammered, trying to say something clever to match your energy, and Patrick watched curiously. You weren’t at all like he thought you would be. He assumed you would be timid compared to Tashi, but that wasn’t the case. You were definitely the more guarded of the two of you, wearing a mask at all times and only letting it slip when you looked at Tashi. Mysterious wasn’t quite the right word, but Patrick thought you were intriguing. 
You decided to put Art out of his misery. “I’m just messing with you,” you promised, relaxing. The Coke bottle Art was clutching for dear life loosened in his hand. Your eyes on him made him all soft and gooey, and he nearly dropped the bottle. 
“It really was amazing,” Art echoed eagerly. “I mean, it wasn’t even like tennis. It was an entirely different game.”
Tashi sipped her drink. “Thank you,” she replied. “You’re going to Stanford, right?”
“Yeah! How’d you know that?” Art asked.
“Um–” Tashi chuckled– “We just accepted our offers and they mentioned you.” 
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh!”
Patrick visibly deflated at the mention of college, which you clocked right away. 
“I’m guessing you aren’t a future Cardinal?” you asked, allowing him to study your expression. The affectionate manner in which you discussed Stanford surprised him, given how insanely talented you and Tashi were.
“No, no–” Patrick shook his head– “I’m just–” he cut himself off. “You guys aren’t going pro? Why waste your time playing college tennis?”
Saving Tashi from having to explain her life decisions to a total stranger, her father walked over to get her attention. “Baby, I need to steal you for a second,” Mr Duncan interrupted. “Over at the trophies.” 
“Uh, okay.” Tashi stood and looked down at where you were seated. “Are you good here?” she asked, girl code for Are these losers bothering you?
“I’m fine,” you promised. “Go look hot with your trophy, okay?”
Tashi chuckled. “You know I will.” She looked between Patrick and Art, watching with amusement as you sat there, oblivious to the two guys tripping over their feet to get your attention. It was like watching a game of tennis unfold in real time, except off the court, and you were the prize. “It was nice meeting you two,” Tashi said.
“If my mother asks where I am, tell her to follow the sound of disappointment,” you called as Tashi left to join her family. With the way her shoulders shook, you could tell she was laughing. Now that your comfort person was gone, you felt out of place. You cleared your throat, getting up from your chair. “Well, it was nice meeting you both,” you said in lieu of a farewell, setting your drink down and moving to make your escape.
“You know you’re better than all those girls playing college tennis, right?” Patrick interjected before you could leave.
You raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I don’t know that. I’ve never actually played any of them before. Guess I’ll find out soon enough, though.”
Patrick chuckled. “Oh, come on. Why put off going pro when you nearly won the Junior US Open?”
“Not that it’s any of your business but I’m not putting anything off. I’m not going pro,” you confessed.
“You’re kidding,” Art blurted. At your unimpressed gaze, he amended, “Sorry, I just mean that I’m surprised. You’re incredible, you could probably be the player of our generation if you wanted to.” 
As sweet as the compliment was, the thought of you being the face of women’s tennis brought an unsettling discomfort to your stomach.
You raised a shoulder, shrugging. “That’s just it. I don’t want to.” The breeze ruffled the lightweight skirt of your dress and revealed more of your thighs. The boys stared, and you sighed. “Patrick and Art, was it?” They nodded, perking up at your remembrance of their names. “Your interest in my tennis career is both endearing and entertaining, and for that I thank you. But the player of our generation is right there, taking pictures with the trophy she won today.” 
You all looked at Tashi. She was a natural in front of the camera, able to charm anyone in the vicinity with a pretty smile. 
Art caught your hand before you could leave. “Hey, wait a second,” he implored. 
You halted, turning and watching his eyes flicker down to your wrist, where a second friendship bracelet joined the one you’d been wearing throughout the US Open. This one said Tashi’s name and had the number one beside it, celebrating her victory. When he raised his head, you felt your breath hitch as you caught his gaze. His eyes were a piercing shade of blue – and slightly brown on his right eye – that seemed to see right through you. You felt your cheeks warm. The intensity of his vulnerable eyes made your stomach flutter nervously.
Art’s thumb brushed your wrist and sent shivers down your spine. “I like your bracelets,” he said, smiling. “Did you make them?”
“Uh, yeah. I make them for me and Tashi when we go to tournaments. Or for big events.”
“And she makes some for you? That’s nice.”
“Oh, no. Tashi doesn’t have the patience or desire to do much other than tennis, so I can never get her to sit down long enough to actually complete one.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“So, nobody’s ever made you a bracelet before?”
“Nope,” you confirmed.
Art smiled. “Idiots,” he murmured. Your eyes widened in surprise. “Do you really have to go?”
Your growing desire to stay made it clear that you did. “I’ll be watching your match tomorrow,” you said, glancing between the boys and pulling your hand from Art’s gentle grip. “I can’t wait to see what Fire and Ice do when they’re up against each other. Though, I already have a pretty good idea.”
Patrick smirked. “Oh really?”
“Anyone who’s ever seen you play knows that you–” you looked at Patrick– “Are fire, and you–” you looked to Art– “Are ice.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You play impulsively and passionately. You express yourself through tennis, but not playing defensively enough can be your downfall,” you explained.
“It hasn’t been so far,” Patrick gloated.
“That’s because you play people like Art, who play it safe. That’s the only reason he’s never beaten you.” You looked between the pair of best friends. “I’m not your coach, so I’m not going to lecture you two. I’m just saying that you might consider learning from each other. It’s why your doubles matches are so electrifying, the combination works.” They both grinned broadly, focused on your praise. “I’m excited to see what happens tomorrow. But for now, I’ll say I enjoyed meeting you,” you said goodbye.
Patrick fell onto the seat Tashi had occupied, shaking his head disappointedly as you left them behind. 
Art paced beside him, picking at the label of his Coke bottle. “Now what?” he asked. 
“What do you mean? That was it,” Patrick retorted, dismayed. 
“You don’t wanna stick around, try to talk to her again?” 
Patrick frowned. “No, no, that’ll seem too desperate. We should just wait for the shuttle back to the hotel.” 
“Yeah, sure,” Art agreed, gaze stuck on your retreating figure. “Okay.” 
The two boys stayed rooted to the spot, their eyes fixed on you as you seamlessly weaved through the crowd. Glancing down at Patrick, Art smiled when he didn’t move and shook his head. Patrick wasn’t going anywhere without getting on your good side; that was clear.
You disappeared into the house for refuge from the people and noise. That was another reason you didn’t want to be the face of women’s tennis. You never quite felt like you fit in anywhere unless Tashi was by your side, and half of being a professional athlete was convincing the world that you belonged. After pretending to be the perfect daughter your mother wanted for eighteen years, you weren’t keen on doing it for the rest of your career to facilitate a dream that wasn’t yours. 
You found the bathroom and locked the door behind you. Staring at your reflection, you meticulously adjusted your hair. Next, you smoothed the fabric of your dress, striving for an unattainable perfection that was expected from you since you were a little girl. Your eyes betrayed the sadness you always felt at tennis parties as you finished polishing your exterior. Each time you went to a party like this and put on the mask you wore for your career, you felt a piece of yourself slipping away.
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“Wearing heels is like volunteering for a medieval torture device, but with more blisters,” you commented hours later when Tashi said her final goodbyes. 
Your best friend laughed. “They sure do look good, though.”
The two of you stumbled down the stairs in the backyard, holding on to each other and giggling as you tried to make it back to the car so you could take your heels off.
“Carry me,” you whined jokingly, draping yourself onto Tashi’s shoulder.
“No, carry me!”
Two voices interrupted your banter. 
“Hey!” 
“Hi!”
It was Art and Patrick, lounging on a sofa and grinning at you like they couldn’t believe they got to see you again. Seeing Patrick made you want to laugh again – given your mother’s strong distaste for his unusual serve – and you averted your eyes to suppress a giggle.
Tashi answered for you both, “Hi.” She laughed a little, steering you towards them. “You guys are still here.”
“Great party!” Art enthusiastically replied.
“Thank you. Um, don’t you guys have a final? Shouldn’t you be, like, um, preparing or something?”
“God, I can’t wear these shoes any longer,” you mumbled beside her, dropping unceremoniously into the chair beside the boys and leaning down to take off your white heels. 
Art and Patrick watched you distractedly before realising Tashi had asked them a question. 
“Oh, it’s just the Juniors–”
Art was interrupted by Patrick. “I think we both know how it’s gonna go,” Patrick commented. 
Amused, Tashi chuckled. “Okay, well, um, it’s cool that you stayed.” 
You hummed in agreement, picking up your shoes and standing beside Tashi again. “Very cool,” you echoed her.
Art stood with you, subconsciously mirroring your body language. “Yeah!” His response was overly loud and too enthusiastic for your plain comment, but he couldn’t help but look at you like you hung the stars in the sky. “I actually wanted to ask you about your serve–” 
Patrick interjected, “Hey, do you smoke?”
You grimaced. “Cigarettes?” 
“Yeah.” 
“No. Do you?”
That was how the four of you ended up at the beach at the end of a long night. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the shore lulled you into a state of happy exhaustion, each gentle breeze whispering a well-deserved rest.
“This place is ridiculous, isn’t it?” Patrick mused as you circled the house to get to the private beach.
“What do you mean?” Tashi exclaimed. “What do you mean? It’s nice!”
“It’s like a castle. Like, they wanna be feudal lords or something.”
“Oh, and what does your parents’ place look like?” Patrick remained silent. “Exactly!” Tashi cried triumphantly.
“Not like this.”
“No, it’s bigger,” Art teased. 
“No! Well, I mean, yeah, technically it is,” Patrick yielded, glancing up at the mansion. The disdain in his voice and face were familiar to you.
“God, I hate big houses like this,” you mused. The breeze ruffled your hair as you gazed up at the huge house. Intrigued, Patrick looked at you and nearly sighed in delight. You were so angelic, bathed in moonlight. It was almost as if it radiated from your skin; you were the personification of a lunar glow. “Everything inside is absolutely perfect, but nobody really lives there. They just exist. Lifeless and isolated.” 
“Like owning an antique chair that’s too fragile for anyone to sit on,” Patrick commented, grinning as you met his eyes. His lake-blue eyes held a depth of emotion and character that surprised you, revealing layers of his inner world without words. While Art’s blue eyes were filled with adoration, Patrick’s showed a flicker of his true self.
“Or a grand piano some famous musician once played, so now it just sits there, untouched. Even though it was made to be used, not admired,” you added, a sad ache filling your chest as you thought of your own home.
Trying to lighten the mood, Patrick asked, “What do your parents do to get a huge, lifeless house of their own?” 
You chuckled like he was joking. Art and Patrick shared a confused glance before looking to Tashi for help. “You seriously don’t know?” she wondered, wide-eyed as she curved an eyebrow. “Y/N’s mom is Irina Madden. She has eleven grand slam titles from the 70s.”
Art gasped. “Are you serious? Irina Madden’s your mom?!”
“She sure is. Why? Do you want to trade?” you replied. 
Patrick nearly snorted at that, all too familiar with overbearing rich mothers. “So that explains the whole Stanford thing,” he deduced as you arrived at the beach and sat down. “Good old mommy issues.”
“It takes one to know one,” you reply without any real bite. Art and Patrick chortled and lit their cigarettes, not arguing with that.
Coming to your defence, Tashi pointed out, “You know, they offer classes in college. Y/N’s the smartest person I know, she was always going to go to college and major in something difficult and thought-provoking,” your best friend mused. She smiled at you. You reached over and squeezed her hand, grateful for her constant encouragement.
“If your mom’s Irina Madden, can’t she just pay for Stanford?” Patrick observed. “Why get a tennis scholarship if you don’t even want to play anymore?”
You glanced at Patrick and tried not to let your eyes wander too much. He seemed too cocky and confident to be your type earlier, but you liked that his questions challenged you. He wasn’t going easy on you, and for some reason, that excited you. Patrick’s intense eyes, filled with a curiosity that bordered on relentlessness, made you nervous in an unfamiliar way. You liked that he never held back. It stirred something exhilarating in you.
“I like earning my place and taking responsibility for my future,” you confessed. Your hands itched to do something to settle your nerves, so you fiddled with your friendship bracelets. “If my mom just buys my way into everything then it’s too easy. Even though I don’t want to go pro, my hard work is what made me a good tennis player. I earned my spot at Stanford, but that’s the last thing I want to use my skills for. No more Opens, no more international tournaments. I’m done.” Patrick nodded, satisfied with your honesty. “What about you? When are you going pro?” 
He took a drag from his cigarette. “As soon as I can,” Patrick confirmed. “Hitting a ball with a racket is a great way to avoid having a job.” 
Art shook his head, leaning back and disapproving of his best friend’s perspective. 
“Well, that’s also your problem,” Tashi argued. She leaned back on her hands and looked at Patrick, meeting his blue-eyed gaze. “‘Cause you think that tennis is about expressing yourself, doing your thing. That’s why you still have that serve.” 
You giggled at that, finally letting yourself release the laughter you were holding in all night long. Art and Patrick couldn’t resist smiling as your joy filled the air. Your happiness was contagious and addictive, eliciting their own chuckles. 
“What, you don’t like my serve?” Patrick asked you, throwing his hands out like he was offended.
“Are you kidding? It’s the only reason I know who you are! You’re on my mother’s blacklist because of it. I have no idea how your coaches never gave you shit and forced that out of you.”
With a knowing smirk, Patrick observed you. Away from the party, you were unguarded and open, something he was immediately drawn to. Beneath the jokes and playful facade, you spoke your mind freely, especially with Tashi around. 
“You know, I really appreciate this new honestly behind your witty exterior,” Patrick commented happily. “But you never answered my question.”
Your lips curved, and your eyes shone. “I like it,” you admitted reluctantly. 
Tashi and Art groaned at that, complaining about what an absurd atrocity Patrick’s serve was. “His ego really doesn’t need any more inflating,” Art added, dodging Patrick when he reached over to smack his arm. 
“I’m just saying, it brings something interesting to the game,” you defended yourself. “Tennis is so traditional and rigid. It’s called a ‘gentleman’s game,’ which just emphasises what an elitist sport it is. I like that you’re putting your own spin on it,” you added. “Tennis isn’t a sport where people take those kinds of risks often and it’s exciting when people do.”
Patrick hung on your every word, captivated by the melody of your voice and feeling a rush of excitement course through him. His cheeks flushed, and he wished you would always be there, talking to him, looking at him; your attention made Patrick feel alive in a way he had never experienced before.
“Well, it works,” Patrick sidestepped, a little overwhelmed by your compliment.
Hiding her smile, Tashi looked away before she ruined the moment. “Yeah, but you’re not a tennis player. You don’t know what tennis is,” she argued.
“What is it?” 
“It’s a relationship,” Tashi declared. You grinned. Tennis, and what it really took to be a great player, was one of the many things nobody communicated as well as your best friend.
Patrick motioned between you and Tashi. “Is that what you two had today?” 
“It is, actually,” she agreed, nodding. “And not just today, but everyday, and every time we play.”
“It makes our friendship stronger,” you added, bumping shoulders with Tashi affectionately.
“In those one and a half hours, there were so many moments we were actually playing tennis, and we understood each other completely. So did everyone watching.” Tashi smiled at you, catching your eyes. “It was like we were in love. Or like we didn’t exist. We went somewhere really beautiful together.” 
“You screamed,” Art pointed out. You watched curiously as he and Tashi shared an emotional look. They seemed to connect on the same level you and Tashi did, viewing tennis as more than a game or a way to avoid life’s responsibilities. “During match point, when you won. I’ve never heard anything like it before,” he added. 
“Y/N’s a real tennis player. It’s easy to get swept away when playing with her.”
Art set his gaze on you. The breeze ruffled his blond hair, and he was effortlessly handsome. “If you understand tennis so well, I don’t see how you can quit,” he admitted.
You let your eyes drag across his face, the sharp slope of his jaw and the unruly curls framing his forehead. And those eyes, open and honest, made your breath catch. “I don’t see how I can keep going like this,” you replied. “Tennis demands everything from you. You need guts and heart and you can’t hold back, not even a little bit. That’s a lot to ask of yourself when it’s somebody else’s dream for you.”
Art smiled sympathetically, understanding the price to be paid if you wanted to make it as a professional. “But you love it so much,” he whispered. “How are you ever going to give it up?”
“Y/N’s always going to return to tennis,” Tashi agreed with Art. “She knows what real tennis is. You can’t just leave it behind once you’ve really felt it. Even if she tries, I don’t think she can ever let it go.”
That was your fear about playing tennis at Stanford.
Sighing, you tried to explain yourself. “I’ve never gotten the chance to actually figure out what I want to do. I do love tennis, and I think quitting will be the hardest thing I’ll ever do, but I have to do it.” You cleared your throat, looking at the city lights in the distance. “My existence came about because my mother wanted a protégé to beat her grand slam record. That way, her tennis career is extended through mine; she’ll be immortalised, and her place in the tennis world will live on. But I want to be appreciated for more than the capacity of my body. I want to be admired for my mind.” 
Patrick, with his cigarette long forgotten, nodded encouragingly. “I see that for you.”
You met his deep blue-green eyes and felt a flutter in your chest. “Yeah?” Patrick opened his mouth to reply when you heard the quiet beep of your phone. You cursed, panicking as you grabbed it from the sand beside you. “Missed call from my mother,” you told Tashi with wide eyes.
She took your arm and reassured you, “Okay, time to go.”
“Are you in trouble?” Art asked, concerned.
You laughed, getting up and brushing the sand from your dress. “The only thing scarier than a missed call from my mother is an actual conversation with her,” you joked, letting him know it would be fine. “That being said, I’m afraid I’m going to have to get going.”
Tashi joined you, picking up her black heeled sandals. “I should go before my dad comes looking for me,” she added, linking arms with you. This was one of the most fascinating evenings Tashi had ever experienced. Usually, when guys threw themselves at the both of you, you would roll your eyes and brush them off, assuming they were there for her. Today, Patrick and Art actually managed to catch your attention. “We’ll see you at school, Art.” Tashi waved. 
“Wait, are you on Facebook?” Patrick asked before you could leave. 
“What?” 
“He’s asking for your numbers,” Art explained. His hand fell limp, placed on the armrest attached to the beach chair as he smirked charmingly at you and Tashi. “And so am I.” Patrick grinned impishly.
“You both want our numbers?” Tashi echoed, amused. 
“Very much so, yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Turning her head to look at you, Tashi was a little speechless. You’d entertained several guys at parties before. While they were all looking to flirt with the number one junior girls’ player, none had been shameless enough to simultaneously hit on both of you. Putting her free hand on her hip, Tashi said, “Okay, well, we aren’t homewreckers.” 
“We don’t live together,” Art replied easily. 
Patrick joined in on the joke, “It’s an open relationship.” 
“Also, Patrick has a girlfriend,” the blond accused his best friend. 
“I do not. Hey, come hang out with us later,” Patrick eagerly invited you both. “They put you up at the hotel in Flushing, right? We’re in Room 206.” 
“Want us to come tuck you in?” Tashi mocked.
“What, do you need a bedtime story and a bath, too?” you quipped.
“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Patrick teased you. “But I just meant we can keep talking.” He eyed you with a new fire in his eyes, burning into your gaze like the desire in his bloodstream. “About tennis.”
You raised your eyebrows knowingly. “Is that what we’ve been talking about?” you wondered sarcastically, earning an eye-crinkling, audacious smile from Patrick. 
“Good night,” Tashi said, effectively ending the conversation. 
“We have beer,” Patrick called in a melodic tone as you walked away, earning laughter from you and Tashi.
“Okay,” Tashi replied sarcastically. Once they were out of earshot, your best friend snickered. “God, they want you so bad. I think they may have been drooling.”
“Oh, shut up,” you exclaimed. “They want you just as badly!”
“Do you honestly believe that?” Tashi wondered. She was in disbelief that you couldn’t see how hard the boys worked for your approval. “Patrick was practically eating out of your hand. You have those guys wrapped around your finger, Y/I!”
“Absolutely not,” you denied. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, T, but nobody ever has eyes for me when you’re around. And that’s okay, I’m not exactly looking for a guy to parade around as eye candy.”
Tashi sighed. A smirk appeared on her lips as she recalled Patrick’s invitation. “Maybe we’ll just have to go to their room and ask them.”
You laughed hard, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes. “There’s no way I’m going anywhere near their room! Not tonight, not ever.”
Oh, how wrong you were.
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𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: idk if you guys are into fashion and know the iconic blumarine dress from 2004 that i’m talking about but just in case you don’t, here it is!! also if anyone is interested in being tagged in future chapters, please let me know in a comment or in my ask box 🩷
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bunnwich · 2 days
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It's Supposed to Be Fun
(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)
I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 
Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.
This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.
It’s supposed to be fun. 
Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.
So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?
Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?
To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 
Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.
If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.
To my friends who have been harassed: 
I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.
Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.
We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.
Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)
Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.
Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.
The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.
The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  
And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.
I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.
It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.
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Minho, seungmin, and hyunjin seems really fitting for hatefuck or angry sex tbh 🤔🤔🤔
What do u think and how would they be like, and how did it happen to smth
My sweet dude, thinking about this ask is doing things to me 🥵 I agree these three fit the “hatefucking” agenda perfectly. I want them to put me in my place and fuck me hard!!!
So here is how I imagine if playing out, and I’d love to know your thoughts…
🤬🤬🤬🤬
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Minho - Your dynamic with Minho is one full of banter. A push-pull. You see each other as equals - both sarcastic, condescending assholes. The hate fucking is mutual. You give just as good as you get. You tell him he’s useless with his cock, yet you cry his name when you come when he’s hitting you deep. He tells you you’re his little bitch (whatever your gender), but he’s whipped for you, canceling plans in case you call him over to your place. You both pretend you don’t like each other, even despise each other. Sex is just for convenience, and that makes him angry because he wants you to be his and only his. He takes his jealousy out on you, using his cock. The sex is highly explosive because you are both spitting insults at each other the whole time. When he’s had enough of you running your mouth, he face-fucks you brutally. He loves nothing more than shutting you up and seeing tears run down your face while you choke on him. It’s too much for him, and there’s been more than one occasion where he’s almost let slip how much he actually loves you.
Seungmin - You flirt with other men to rile him up and make him angry whilst pretending you didn't do anything wrong. You gas light the fuck out of him, telling him he's imagining things, even though you deliberately wear skimpy clothes and rub yourself up against them and giggle. It's infuriating for him to watch, and when he finally gets you alone, he whispers in your ear how much you're going to pay for your behaviour when you get home. Sometimes he doesn't even get you home. He's been known to pull you behind a pillar at a function and clamp his hand on your mouth while he fucks you. Anyone can walk past. Other times he demands you suck him off while he drives home, or if it's late at night he pulls the car over to fuck you over the hood of of the car. If you do manage to escape punishment until you're actually home, you’re in deep shit. He makes you kneel in front of him where he’ll call you names. Then he’ll cut your clothes off with scissors. He’ll make you straddle him and ride him reverse while he pays no attention to you - like you’re a nuisance. Then, he’ll snap and use all type jealousy and anger to fuel his thrusts. He’ll hold you up by your hair while he slams into you from behind. He doesn’t want to see your face. He just wants to use your holes. That’s what you’re reduced to when he’s hatefucking you.
Hyunjin - You intentionally be a brat to him. tease him, do things deliberately to in annoy him, like move his favourite things, or make it hard for him to concentrate. You get in his face when he’s busy, trying to get his attention. You’re also extremely bombastic and loud when you’re out in a group and all he can do is roll his eyes and bite his lip in irritation. But he looks so sexy when he’s annoyed and so you continue to push his buttons until he can’t ignore you any longer. He retaliates. He bites back. He gets you on your back, caging you in underneath him while he looks at you with disdain. It turns you on. Hatefucking with Hyunjin is intense, sweaty, hard. But it’s not a fast fuck, he takes his time like he’s trying to torture you with his cock. He thrusts into you over and over. You want him to pick up the pace, but he doesn’t give you what you want. He simply watches you, looks you in the eyes, as your impaled with his cock for hours.
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha
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lihhelsing · 15 hours
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"Can I get your coffee order?"
STWG daily prompt 6/2/24 (let's pretend it's not two days late): Coming Out Pairing: steddie | tags: coming out, coffee shop au, modern au, meet cute, fluff
Eddie was used to seeing the same guy in the coffee shop every day. It was impossible not to notice him because he was gorgeous and Eddie was a simple man who liked to admire beautiful things. 
So Steve would come in every day and always at the same time, ordering the same thing. Double Espresso with a shot of Vanilla. It suited him, Eddie thought, but he would always see him looking at the menu as if he was considering ordering something different, just to end up with the same thing every day. 
It was kind of cute. 
Sometimes he would sit alone for half an hour, face buried in his phone. Sometimes a loud brunette girl would join him but then they would never stay for long. Eddie didn’t like those days even if he thought she looked like a nice person. 
And then sometimes Steve would come in and order for two, then he would proceed to sit at a table and in a few minutes a girl would join him. Always a different girl, which told Eddie none of them were his girlfriends. 
One could even think this was some sort of job interview because it was pretty clear Steve wasn’t fully into the conversation. He was trying, sure, but after an hour the girl would inevitably excuse herself and leave. Steve would hang out for a few more minutes and then leave too, not looking back. 
And he’d do it all over again on a different day. 
Eddie couldn’t even feel guilty about paying attention. Steve always came in when the rush hour had passed and the coffee shop was mostly empty, and Eddie didn’t have much to do. And yeah, sure he was also a little obsessed with him so he was curious what was all that about. 
Surely Steve didn’t seem the kind of guy to have dating issues. 
The day Eddie noticed something was different was when Steve came in and ordered a Chai Latte. For anyone else, this might mean nothing, but Eddie knew better and he had watched Steve for long enough to know that if he finally changed his order after months, something was up. 
He didn’t want to look like a creep so he smiled like he always did and thanked the fat tip Steve left him, like he always did. And maybe Eddie flirted a little, but who could blame him? Steve was just too handsome for his own good and Eddie was just a man. 
Eddie gave him his drink and politely waited for a few minutes just to make sure Steve wasn’t expecting anyone, and then he finally moved in. 
“Hey, how’s your drink?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. Steve looked up at him through thick eyelashes and Eddie wanted to die a little. 
“Oh, it’s good. I never had one of these so I can’t really compare it to anything else, but I like how it tastes.”
Eddie hummed, “Well, tell you what, I make a mean Matchá if you ever feel like broadening your horizons.”
Steve chuckled and nodded, “I might take you up on that, actually.”
They stood in silence and Eddie was ready to accept his defeat when Steve spoke again. 
“I just… Started to realize I might want to try different things.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, “how so?”
“Well, I used to drink the same coffee every day and it was good, don’t get me wrong. But I kept looking and looking and it felt like I was... Missing something,” Steve frowned as he spoke, almost as if he was talking about coffee but thinking about something else. 
“It’s what they say, don’t knock it til you try it, am I right?”
Steve chuckled and Eddie was under the impression he was just being polite. 
“For sure. It’s just hard sometimes, to try new things. Even if you are… Curious.”
“I say just go for it. The worst that can happen is you spend a few bucks on something you will never want to drink again, but if that ever happens I got you. I’ll get you something different on the house,” Eddie said and then he winked because he was a sick little man. 
The blush that crept onto Steve’s cheek was beautiful, though, so he was only half-sorry. 
“Oh, what if… It’s not coffee that I want to try?” Steve said, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. 
Eddie smiled and motioned his hand to the drink menu, “Lucky for you we have an assortment of drinks like refreshers and matchá and even some teas-“
“I mean, what if this isn’t about drinks?” 
Now Eddie was completely lost. He looked back to meet Steve’s eyes and there was an intensity behind them that gave him chills. 
“What do you mean?”
“I, um…” Steve looked around as if making sure the place was empty and still lowered his voice a little. “What if I’m not as straight as I always thought I was?”
Eddie tried to contain his surprise and forced his expression to remain neutral, not wanting to spook him. 
“That’s ok, too. Lord knows I’m gay as it comes and it took me a few tries to figure it out,” Eddie chuckled, but Steve’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I mean, you don’t have to be gay either! You can be bi or pan or-“
“Sorry, I made this awkward. I’m sorry. I’ve just been having these feelings and Robin says I can always talk to her but it feels that if I even ask it will be real and then if I turn out to be just confused then she will be disappointed because she always said I was her straight token friend but I know she would be happy if I wasn’t-“
“Hey, hey,” Eddie moved his hand and touched Steve’s shoulder lightly. He just hoped he wasn’t crossing a line. That definitely wasn’t the first time a customer said something incredibly personal out of the blue, but it was the first time someone was coming out to him like that. 
Steve looked up at him with huge brown eyes and Eddie felt his insides melting a little. Here it was, this cute guy having a sexuality crisis and just looking even cuter. 
“I don’t know you and obviously don’t know this friend of yours. Robin, is it? But if she loves you, and I’m assuming she does, she will love you no matter what. Even if you have to come out to her as… Straight?” Eddie said that and got a snort back from Steve. 
At least that was better than the desolation he had in his eyes before. 
“I guess you’re right,” Steve said, nodding his head. 
“And hey, you can definitely try things out and figure out you were straight all along, but from my experience, straight people don’t usually question their sexuality or even feel the curiosity to do so. They just are. So my best bet would be on you being one of us. Assuming your friend Robin is also not straight.”
“Oh, definitely not,” Steve said, laughing and he just looked so much better like that. 
“Well, ok Steve, then my job here is done! I’m sure Robin will have much better advice to give to you, but you can always count on me to try different coffees,” and there it was, the fucking wink again. Who did Eddie think he was? 
Steve blushed again and now Eddie could see they were pretty damn close. He slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s shoulder as to not make him uncomfortable, but it seemed that Eddie’s pep talk had done the trick because now Steve had this glint in his eyes. 
“Can I buy you coffee?” he asked, smiling slowly. 
“Uh, what?”
“You know, since I’m already trying things I thought it would be nice to try uh… A Matchá, you said? And a… Date?”
Holy fucking Jesus. Steve was fucking smooth. Eddie felt his cheeks getting warm and he looked around to conclude they were still alone at the coffee shop. There was not a single reason for him to turn this down even if Steve ended up figuring out he was straight. Yeah, fat chance. 
“Lead the way, big boy,” Eddie motioned for the counter and Steve smiled, nodding and following him right into their first date. 
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depravitycentral · 3 days
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I don’t know if this appeals to anyone but me, but I’ve been watching a lot of period pieces about Regency Era England (specifically the 1995 Pride and Prejudice and Bridgerton) and I can’t stop thinking about the way women were actually treated like property, their only purpose to wed and produce children. Imagine the yandere possibilities, and the absolute lack of control you’d have over your fate.
Specifically, I can’t stop thinking about the lack of care and the disregard for social customs and norms yanderes could exhibit in that era. The rules are so very strict, and so very numerous – really, can he be blamed for not adhering to each and every one? Sure, he doesn’t treat any other woman this way, but is it such a crazy notion that he breaks a rule here or there? Surely not – not when it’s so very obvious that the proposal is coming, that he’s absolutely hell bent on keeping you pristine and pretty and pregnant in his own abode, not the pathetic pile of wood and roofing you call your home.
Maybe he’s always been one for attending the local and regional balls – for appearances, yes, but also because there’s nothing more that he loves than being in a room with all sorts of beautiful women and alcohol. Maybe he likes to play the politics game, stringing along every girl he can find so that he gets his pick of wives, so that he can bed any woman he so pleases without as much as a goodbye. Except that once his feelings for you form, his composure crumbles a bit.
He’s standing much, much too close to you throughout the entirety of your dance with him. His hips are tightly pressed against your ass as he follows the 1, 2, 3 of the waltz, the shuddering breath you hear at your ear making your skin crawl.
Maybe he’s insisted on keeping his hand much too low as he guides you through the dance, almost able to feel the hem of your underclothes under the layers of your dress, his fingers eager as he presses them tighter and tighter against you.
He’ll speak to you during the dance, his voice low and whispered and his mouth much too close to your ear, the audible wet sound of him licking his lips seeming louder than the quartet in the corner of the dancefloor.
He’s even asking you to remove your gloves, won’t you? I wouldn’t want to ruin the delicate silk – what would your dear mother think of me? And once they’re off (because really, his tone left very little room for rebuttal), his bare skin is pressing against yours, his palms clammy and sweating and absolutely engulfing yours with the way he keeps grabbing at more more more, wanting to feel every inch of you possible.
And then of course there’s those who aren’t as bold with physicality – no, the mere thought of being any closer to you than society permits is enough to get them hot under the collar, so nervous and flustered that they’re sure they’ll trip over themselves, that they’ll make an absolute fool in front of you. Instead, they resort to more classy measures – that is, it’s a bit jarring when they quickly approach you the moment you’ve entered the ballroom, swallowing harshly and asking in a voice that’s just a hair too high-pitched if they could perhaps have the honor of claiming your first dance this evening?
You can’t exactly say no – and even as you watch him eagerly scribble his name down on the first dance slot, then the second, then the third and fifth and tenth, what can you really say? He’s wealthier than your family, and your mother watches from the corner with a glint in her eye because oh, isn’t this just such an advantageous match?
Even the grouches who only attended the ball in which they met you upon a friend’s request act out in unexpected ways. They seem distracted, clutching onto their lemonade glass with a grip tight enough to turn their knuckles white, their shoulders visibly tense as their eyes scan the room over and over. They’re looking for you, of course. Mentally guessing at what colors you’d be donning this evening, how your hair is styled, what sorts of jewels and precious jewelry sits so prettily in the hollow of your throat or dangles against the sensitive skin of the juncture of your neck and jaw.
And once they've found you, they may not have the courage to speak with you or dance with you. But suddenly you've gained a permanent shadow for the evening. Where you go, he goes. He’s following you a good five feet behind, snaking around fellow attendees and keeping his eyes locked on your figure, biting his lip as he mentally notes who’s eye you’re catching, who’s speaking with you, who’s approaching you with a request to dance.
He’s standing directly behind you as you dance with some low-level baron, some insignificant man who can’t hold a candle to the riches, comfort and adoration that he can give you. And he's just staring, too – eyes like daggers as he watches the interaction, letting the anger simmer and fester until he finally, finally approaches you, his voice gruff and choppy as he compliments your dress (something like this dress is much more handsome than the last one you wore) and practically demands your next dance. Yes, it’s awkward, and yes, he leads far, far too much.
But really, the truly terrible thing to think about is what happens after the ball – when they call upon you in the sanctity of your own home, all sorts of love declarations falling from their lips that are much too hyper specific and draw upon knowledge you know you’ve never shared with him. But you must be kind; he’s of higher rank, after all, in a position where a few bad words could ruin your family forever.
It’s just that when he drops to one knee and proposes, it’s difficult to remember your delicate position because he’s managed to find the ring of your dreams, and he’s going on about how he’s had your bedchamber already decorated to fit all your tastes, how he has a wardrobe full of new dresses he’s had custom-fit to you, how he’s already decided that you’re to have a son first, but then all daughters and you’ll name them James, Eleanor, Kathryn, Marta…
And as he embraces you, the hug either much too tight or much too stiff, it’ll feel like a cage locking into place around you. Because really, what can you do? If you try to fight him, he has the wealth and connections to force your family into consenting. And even if your parents refuse to hand you off to a man you clearly despise and fear, it’s not so difficult to spread the rumors about your purity, to claim that he’d witnessed a servant passionately embracing you, that he’d seen you naked in the arms of some butcher’s boy…
It’s your word against his, and oh, isn’t he so kind for still having you after your reputation’s been destroyed? Isn’t he so dreamy and chivalrous for saving you from a life of destitution and outcast? Even if he’s the one to blame for that life in the first place?
And he’ll be so good to you, he promises. He’ll explain each and every aspect of the wedding night, of the consummation of a marriage, showing you exactly how deeply he’s been desiring you, how long he’s been craving you, how many times he’s fucked his fist and been thinking of you you you in those tempting dresses you wear, of those hips that you sway and move like a fucking minx at every dance you attend…
He’ll leave you wanting for nothing – aside from perhaps your freedom, and perhaps your sanity. But he’s sure you’ll learn to love him.
You must, after all.
Specifically the image of a few characters in the traditional regency dress is making me feral - imagine Aizawa, who's known as the reclusive Duke of the area, his public appearances next to none and his temperament difficult to handle. But alas, what's this? A few snarky comments from you - also standing against the ballroom's wall - about the ridiculousness of women's fashion and the discomfort of dancing in heels has him chuckling a bit, your obvious lack of knowledge of his position making him feel oddly seen. And when you find yourself falling into his company at the next ball he's forced to attend, Aizawa decides there's something particularly agreeable about your smile - finding himself wanting to know if your lips taste as good as they look. And when he loses his composure and blurts these words out, don't expect him to cut off contact with you - instead, he'll immediately speak with your father, requesting your hand in marriage and hoping that in time you might learn to forgive his dismissal of your opinion. Perhaps a child would help distract you, yes?
Imagine Rengoku, who's introduced to you by the ball's hostess, Shinobu. Imagine Rengoku, who immediately dances with you and keeps returning to fill up your dance card, that smile blinding as he spends the evening on the dancefloor by your side. Imagine Rengoku, who calls upon you everyday after first meeting you, his visits growing in frequency - sometimes multiple a day - and duration as the weeks drag on. Imagine the way he'll end each visit by grasping your hand in his and giving it a much-too-long kiss, assuring you that it's only taking this long for him to propose to and wed you because he's having an entirely new manor built - one he thinks you'll like a bit more. Nevermind that you don't wish him to continue his visits or leave you alone - do you like floral or patterned wallpapers more?
Imagine Akaashi, who's every woman's dream for both his looks and status. Imagine the way he holds you so delicately as he twirls you, those steel eyes of his practically cutting into you, his mid-dance questions starting off simple and innocent and slowly morphing into something that feels like an interrogation, something that feels too intimate and demanding and strange. Imagine the way he grasps onto your wrist - still gently but firm enough to eliminate your escape - as he guides you towards the refreshments table, insisting that you absolutely must drink something because he's noticed you haven't drunk anything since you arrived nearly an hour ago. But don't mention the fact that you didn't meet until roughly twenty minutes ago - long after you'd walked through the front doors.
Imagine Chrollo, who manages to charm his way into getting you alone with him on the balcony, those dark eyes smoldering as he compliments you. There's something stiff and rehearsed about it, and as you snort and ask him how many women he seduces in a night's work, something clicks in his brain. Imagine the way he doesn't leave your side for an instant after that, glued to your hip and seamlessly managing to evade each and every potential suitor from approaching you. Imagine the way he begins inviting you for long stays at his rather luxurious home, conveniently placing your bedchambers beside his own, spending night after night with his ear pressed against your shared wall and biting his lip as he fists his cock to the sound of you humming to yourself and washing your face with the pale of lukewarm water he'd used first then had the servants bring to you.
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themultifanshipper · 17 hours
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Mayhaps Plus size!reader and Lando? A forbidden relationship, perhaps. Like, she's one of the PR people or something. She's incredibly insecure etc but he's obsessed and can't keep his hands (or eyes) off.
Aight here we go!
Bear with me on this one it gets a tad wild.
Warnings: Lando being a menace, thigh fucking, marking, spanking, bit of spit, also cum
You always wore pants around the paddock, much to Lando's dismay.
When it was just the two of you away from the prying eyes of the public, you would parade around in skirts and dresses, even in nothing but his t-shirts that barely covered your ass. It drove Lando crazy, the sneak peaks were never enough, he had to admire your curves from up close. So usually, the days ended with him tearing your clothes off and worshipping you. And when he felt a bit subby, he’d rut against you, your thighs, ass, tits (anything really), and he would come in his pants like a teenager.
But where there were people, and cameras, you stayed well covered.
There were two reasons for this, there was the reason you told Lando: To keep him from going crazy around you, he was already handsy enough as it was when he could see your skin, leading to a couple of incidents where there had been complaints about PDA.
But the other reason, you didn’t care to share with him. The ‘real’ reason. You were self-conscious about your body. Every other woman in the paddock was basically a swimsuit model, and although you were beautiful (Lando’s words not yours), you felt like covering yourself up was the best way to keep from being judged too harshly.
One day though, you decided to be a bit risqué and wear something a bit low cut, which drove Lando completely mad, but that was the goal.
What wasn’t the goal was the looks some of the employees were giving you all day. One of them even went as far as whistling lowly as you passed. Bastard.
That night you were at Lando’s, flopped on his bed in one of his shirts and he knew immediately something was off. As he started to climb on top of you, hands wandering, you pushed him off and grumbled about not being in the mood. Lando was gobsmacked, you were never ‘not in the mood’.
“What’s up baby?” he asked curling up next to you, letting his hand roam up and down your arm.
“I don’t know, I just- I got some attention today that I wasn’t comfortable with.”
Lando frowned “Did anyone say anything?”
“Not to me directly” you sighed “But I got a lot of dirty looks and even a wolf whistle on my way out at lunch”.
Lando pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Ignore those cunts babe, you wear whatever you want, and if anyone has a problem with that you send them straight to me”
You sighed frustratedly “I’m just not a model Lando, I’m not who you’re supposed to be with. Can you imagine the hate I’d get if people found out about us?”
“I don’t care about them baby, I love you! And all the extra is just more bits of you to love”
He started placing kisses over your chest, down to your stomach and looked up at you. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”
He grabbed your thighs and spread them, licking and sucking over them vigorously as you squirmed in his hold. But his fingers dug into your flesh to keep you still as he lavished your skin, sucking bruises into every inch of your thick thighs.
He finally reached where you needed him most, just lazily pushing your panties to the side before devouring you, his fingers soon joining as you fell apart on his tongue.
Once you were fully satisfied, he lifted your legs up, crossed at the ankle over his left shoulder.
“What are you-“ you asked before getting cut off by the feeling of him spitting on your pussy and sliding his cock though your folds to get himself nice and wet, before sliding upwards towards where your thighs met. He was panting at this point, obviously affected by the sight of your skin bulging where his fingers gripped it tight.
“Lando-“
“Shhhhh, baby” he cooed, starting to lose his cool a bit “just let me fuck your thighs, yeah? Let me show you how much I fucking love them” he growled as he slipped in between them easily and started thrusting gently. He groaned and his hips stuttered at the unfamiliar feeling.
The sight of his dick sliding between your thighs was lewd, but the sight of Lando loosing it over them was even better. On every other thrust his dick made contact with your sensitive clit, making you tense, and your thighs clench around him.
But it wasn’t enough for you, you needed more. “Lando please, just fuck me, please!”
You were never above a bit of begging, and Lando was never capable of saying no to you.
“Okay baby, but turn over, I want to see your ass shake when I make you fall apart on my cock”
And shake it did. Lando was pounding into you, hand weaved into your hair to arch your back as he was completely engrossed in the way your ass and thighs wobbled every time his hips slammed into yours.
“All this, baby, all this is just for me” He groaned as he let go of your hair to grab your hips with both hands and picked up the pace.
“Lando, please I’m so close!” you gasped as he tutted “No baby, no coming until I say”. He then raised his hand and brought it down on your ass, hard.
You squealed as he did it again. And again. Until you were a shaking mess underneath him, no longer able to hold yourself up with your arms as you fell into the pillows face first. He loomed over you, putting his hands either side of your head and kept pounding into you, changing the angle drastically, now hitting your g-spot dead on.
“Come now baby, come on my cock like a good girl”
You screamed into the pillow as you did just that, shaking through the waves of your orgasm into overstimulation until Lando took pity on you and pulled out, finishing over your ass and the back of your thighs.
“Fuck can I take a picture baby? I need to add this to my wank bank”
And just like that the moment was broken. But you gave him a lazy thumbs up anyway, incapable of speech for the moment.
Once he cleaned you up, you fell asleep pretty much immediately. And he climbed into bed with you, but not before snapping another picture.
The next day, a picture of you snuggled into the covers, one leg visibly littered in hickeys and handprints, appeared on his instagram.
The caption read: "Thick thighs do save lives, but I would gladly drown 👅"
Well, the PR team was going to have some damage control to do. The problem was, you were the PR team. Oops.
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This one kinda ran away from me lmao
Lando being feral is everything to me.
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starsinthesky5 · 3 days
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you belong with me l || joe burrow x reader
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description: you and joe have been best friends ever since ohio state and you’ve been his biggest supporter for as long as you both could remember. it was always the same dynamic between you both, friends. very very very close friends. but what if you wanted to be more than just friends?
a/n: best friends to lovers HELLO? you are both so oblivious yet so aware of your feelings at the same time it is crazy. so many little moments that have you like “how the hell are you not aware you’re in love with each other?”.
you’re in denial for a lot of this fic, and Joe pretty much knows what he wants but is a little scared to actually do something about it 
part 2 will be up later this week :)
warnings: language, mentions of sex (no actual smut)
word count: 13.3 k 
—-------------------------------------
Thursday
You had just gotten home from running a few errands, absolutely exhausted from all the running around you had been doing from Christmas shopping and planning for your sister's wedding. You left all the bags in your entryway and collapsed on your couch. 
“Ughh,” you groaned into the pillow. It had been a pretty chaotic week for you and you felt tired and burnt out, and were in desperate need of a night out. 
You heard your phone buzz in your pocket so you moved to lay on your back and pulled your phone out to see who was calling. The name on your screen immediately made you smile and forget about your fatigue, so naturally, you answered it. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Joe said over the phone as he sat down on his couch.
“Hi Joe,” you smiled as you started twirling your his sweatshirt string. Somehow you ended up with a few of Joe’s shirts or hoodies in your closet from when you’d be over at his place or him at yours. Currently, you have one of his old LSU hoodies which was a little big on you, but that made it even more comfier. “How was practice?”. 
“Good,” He breathed out, sounding a little weary. 
“Is something wrong? You sound extra tired,” you ask your best friend. 
“Nah, Just the usual tiredness from practice but I’m fine,” he lied.
You could tell when Joe would lie to you, the tone of his voice would usually give it away. And right now, he was lying to you. “I know you too well Joe, what's up?”. 
He let out a sigh and said, “The Bengals Christmas Party is tomorrow night and I’m dreading it,”. 
“Ahhh, I see. Mr. Hermit Crab has to go to a partyyyy,” you tease. 
“Really funny,” He says, rolling his eyes which you could feel through the screen.
“I know you don’t partially enjoy parties but it’s Christmas, lighten up,” you tell him. “There will be lots of people there to keep you company,”.
“And that’s just the problem. Everyone there is just gonna wanna talk about football and I need one night to just relax,” he says. 
You felt bad for Joe since you knew how all of this would get draining for him. It was already stressful enough that the playoffs were slowly creeping up and the background noise was only getting louder by the day, and then he had 50 other things on top of that to do. He didn’t get any break time once December rolled around. That’s also why it was hard for him to enjoy his birthday, which happened to be next Sunday. 
“I know, I’m sorry. I wish I could do something to stop you from going but you are the face of the team and not going would look bad,”.
As he listens to you, an idea pops into his head. He sits up and says, “You know, it would be a lot more tolerable if you came with me?”. 
Your eyes light up at his offer. Joe always ended up bringing you with him to events like this. Ever since he got drafted by the Bengals, you’d be right by his side at any team activities that needed a plus 1. At first, you weren’t really sure why he’d bring you along with him, and quite honestly you still aren’t really sure since he could just go alone or bring anyone else, but it always seemed to make him more comfortable when you were there and you’d be happy to keep him company at any given time.
“That’s if you're free?” He adds.
“Oh trust me, I am. I’m in desperate need of a night out so this might be the thing I need,” you say as you hop off the couch and walk into your bedroom to figure out an outfit for tomorrow. 
“Everything alright?” He asks as he gets up to figure out his own outfit for tomorrow now that he actually has a reason to go. 
“Yeah, just a triple homicide. Work, Christmas, and my Sister's wedding planning,” you say as you pull out a few Christmasy dresses, none really catching your eye. 
“Damn, December really isn’t our month,” he laughs. “You need a night out,”. 
“You got that right,” you smile. You're just about to ask him what he was thinking of wearing to the party but your sister calls you, interrupting you and Joe’s call. 
“Shit, my Sister’s calling me. Probably more wedding stuff,” you sigh.
“That’s okay,” he laughs. “I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow,” he adds.
“Sounds perfect. See you tomorrow,” you smile.
“Bye, Y/N,” he replies before hanging up. You then call your sister back, placing the phone on speaker and throwing it onto the bed.
“Hey Kaylee,” you say as you go back to outfit hunting for tomorrow. 
“Hey, you busy?” She asks.
“A little. I’m trying to find an outfit for tomorrow,” you say as you pull out a cropped red sweater. 
“What’s tomorrow?” She asks.
“Joe asked me to go with him to the team Christmas party,” you said as you dug through your closet for a black mini skirt and sheer tights to go with the sweater. 
“Aw that’s nice,” she says. “You know, with the number of things Joe brings you to or does with you, you’d think that you both would be a couple by now. You are practically his girlfriend,” she jokes, only partly though. 
You immediately stop looking through your closet and turn back to face your phone. “What?” you say as you feel yourself turning red at the mention of being his girlfriend, a thought you buried all those years ago because you thought it was silly. 
“I’m just joking, Y/N, kind of. But I mean, you are doing what girlfriends typically do. I know you’re really close friends and you have been for years, but he brings you to like everything and you’re always doing something together. People think you’re his secret girlfriend for a reason,” she says. 
You find yourself staring off into space as she’s talking. Deep down, you knew she was right but you just didn’t want to look at it that way. You were doing girlfriend duties for him and it became clearer as time passed by. At first, it didn’t bother you much, it was just two best friends doing best friend things right? It was completely normal for you to go to every single one of his games, go to these team events with him, and spend so much time together, right? But as time went on, you started to realize that maybe people’s comments weren’t totally out of left field. It did look like you were his girlfriend, especially since he didn’t have any other girl with him most of the time. 
You had feelings for Joe back when you first met at Ohio State, but you never did anything about them because you thought he didn’t feel the same. You spent weeks spiraling over your feelings towards him, but you eventually gave up because you didn’t want to lose him as a friend in case he felt differently about you, so you buried the feelings and moved on. Or so you thought you buried them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case since you were spiraling, again, at the thought of being his girlfriend and being told that you were acting like it too.  
You never pushed Joe about his dating life because you thought that was boundary stomping. Yes, you two were very close, but you didn’t really want to know the details about his love life for many reasons. You just watched that part of his life from a distance. He had a few girlfriends over the years, none of which stuck around or fizzled out over time. The only consistent girl in his life was you. And that’s why everyone thought you were his girlfriend when he first got drafted.
They were convinced you both were either dating or hooking up, neither of which was true. It was a little awkward when that gained traction, but it slowly faded out over time but still lingered to this day. You both tried to not let it affect your friendship and for the most part, it worked. You ignored and continued to support him in every way possible, but those thoughts of you being a couple were buried deep inside your mind and sometimes peeked through, just like how they were right now. 
“I haven’t really looked at it that way,” you lied. 
“Of course you haven’t. Why would you? Joe is such a great guy and has been a great friend to you for years. Why would you ever think that way,” she laughs.
Being best friends with one of the best quarterbacks in the league had its perks. But you weren’t one to take advantage of that often. You were just there to support your best friend and enjoy the ride. To everyone else, he was Joe Burrow. But to you, he was just Joe. And you loved that you got to see the real him and the guy you met in college was still there regardless of everything that’s changed since then. 
“Rightttt,” you say as you sit down on your bed.
“Well anyways, I’ll leave you to it. I was just calling about what the menu should look like for the pre-wedding brunch but we can talk about that later,” she says.
“You sure?” You ask.
“Positive. Have fun at the party and tell Joe I said hi,”.
“Thanks, Kaylee and I will. I’ll call you soon,” you say as you hang up. You toss your phone to the side and fall back onto your bed. The thought of you and Joe being a couple was stupid, right? You both had been friends for years and never once did he show any other feelings other than friendship towards you, so why was this even a thought? Were you not seeing something that everyone else was? Did Joe ever have the same thoughts as you?
He was the perfect guy. He was kind, selfless, funny, attractive, smart, and charming. Any girl would be so lucky to have him as her boyfriend. Wouldn’t it be nice if he was your boyfriend? He matches your vibe completely and you both have so much in common, plus you already know so much about each other. You would be the perfect couple and people wouldn’t even be surprised if you got together. 
“Nah, this is stupid,” you shook your head as you broke out of whatever fantasy you were dreaming about. 
But was it a fantasy, or was it something that you both wished was reality deep down?
Friday Night 
The next day flew by pretty quickly and you found yourself sitting at your vanity, applying the last bit of makeup before Joe picked you up. You opted for a cropped red sweater, a black mini skirt with sheer tights, and black knee-high boots. Jewelry-wise, you didn’t go all out. Just your usual earrings and necklaces, but you made sure to wear the diamond tennis bracelet Joe got you after he signed his rookie contract. You didn’t wear it often since it was so expensive, but whenever you did, Joe would notice and a huge smile would appear on his face. 
Flashback to 2020
You sat down on Joe’s couch as he brought over two glasses of red wine. He had called you over for dinner tonight at his new place that he bought once his contract money came through.
“I loveee your house. It’s very homey,” you chirp as you pull a plush blanket over your legs. 
“Thank you,” he smiles as he sits down, handing you your wine glass. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be upgrading in a few years,”.
“Oh trust me, it’ll go just as planned,” you say, taking a sip of the blood red wine. “You’re about to set the league on fire,”.
“I appreciate the confidence,” Joe laughs as he sips his wine. 
“I’m so glad you got drafted to Cincy. It was already tough enough that you were down in Baton Rouge for 2 years, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got drafted anywhere else,” you sigh. 
“Sounds like somebody missed me,” he said as he threw his head back into the couch pillow.
“No shit, goofball. I missed my best friend,” you laughed as you playfully shoved his shoulder. 
“Well, take this as an apology,” he says, putting his glass to the side and reaching down to grab something from the side of the couch. He pulls up a small lilac gift bag and places it in your lap. 
“What’s this?” you question as butterflies fill your stomach. You place your glass on the side table and examine the little bag.
“An apology for being away for 2 years,” he says, raising his eyebrows and motioning you to open the bag.
“It’s not like I didn’t see you at all. I went to a few games and you still came back here during your breaks,” you said as you patted his thigh. 
“Still, I wasn’t at your fingertips like I usually am,” he laughs, causing a blush to creep up your face. “Just open it,”.
You nod and open the bag and are met with a beige box. You open the box and your jaw drops at the sight of a shiny, very real-looking, diamond tennis bracelet sitting inside. 
“Joe, what the fuck,” you whispered as you ran your fingers across the big diamonds. “You didn’t have to- This must’ve been so expensive,”.
“Don’t worry about all that. It’s a gift from me to my best friend and saying no would be rude,” he says, grabbing the bracelet and helping you put it on. “In case you forgot, I am a millionaire now, and you never wanna upset a millionaire,” he jokes. 
“Don’t send your minions on me now,” you joke as he clasps the bracelet onto your wrist. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do this,”.
He tilts his head, giving you a look that you never were one to argue with. “Fine, Fine. Thank you sooo much. I love it,” you say as you launch yourself onto him, pulling him in for a warm hug. 
He wraps his arms around you tightly and laughs into your shoulder. His hand runs up and down your back as you run your fingers through his soft hair. You weren’t sure how long you both were hugging; you were waiting for him to pull away, but he was waiting for you to pull away. But at the same time, neither of you really wanted to pull away. 
You appreciated the glamorous gift from him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies in your belly when you opened the box. Little did you know this bracelet was his first official purchase from his contract money. He knew that once the money hit his account, he wanted to buy you something to show how much he cared for you, the only girl that has been by his side through thick and thin. 
End of flashback 
Last night’s thoughts were no longer in your head as you reminded yourself that Joe was just your best friend. Nothing more, and nothing less. There was no reason to ruin your bond with a silly little pipe dream. 
You heard your phone buzz from what was probably a text from Joe. You opened the text, laughing at the text, which was a little inside joke you two had made over the years.
Joe: getaway car 
“Getaway Car” was a term you both would use whenever you needed to escape something. Whether it was wanting to leave a college party because you were feeling uncomfortable, wanting to leave an awkward situation, or like right now, when either of you needed a break from life and needed to do something fun. All you would say to each other was “getaway car” and you’d know what was up.  
You smiled at the text, grabbed your purse, and made your way out the door and down to his car. 
Meanwhile, Joe was humming along to the song playing on his aux, ‘Lovers Rock’ by TV Girl. You both had made a shared Spotify playlist years ago back at OSU and would often listen to the playlist whenever you were together, so naturally he had to play it on the way to the party. This song was clearly your addition as Joe’s music taste was a little different, but he’d learn to enjoy songs like this because of you. 
You also used to listen to this playlist during the time Joe was away at LSU and you would miss talking to him since he was extremely busy. He would do the same on those nights when he was alone and couldn’t sleep because he would be missing your silly little movie nights, thinking about if you were having these movie nights with anyone else while he was away. 
You made your way out of your apartment building, spotted Joe’s car, and walked over to it. You knocked on the window since he was too busy staring off into space to notice you walk over. He jumped slightly at the sudden noise but then relaxed as he realized it was just you. He unlocks the door which you swing open, hopping inside and letting out a deep breath.
“Woo, it’s freezing out there,” you say as you rub your hands together for some warmth. 
He stares at you up and down, taking in your outfit which you looked stunning in, his eyes stopping at your wrist which was decked with the diamond bracelet he got you. A smile creeps on his face, which you notice. 
“You look really beautiful,” He smiles as he puts the car into drive and exits the parking lot. 
You blushed at his compliment as you also took in what he was wearing. Black jeans and a dark green sweater along with one of his many diamond chains. He looked so good right now. The way his hair naturally fell into place, the way his mouth was curled up into a smile, and the way his sweater fit perfectly around his muscular arms. He just looked so good. 
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Burrow,” you tease. 
“Thanks for coming with me by the way,” he smiles over at you.
“Anytime,” you smile back. “Remember, just say ‘getaway car’ if you wanna leave if you get overwhelmed or something,”. 
“Aye-Aye, Captain,” he salutes. 
You take note of the song playing in the car and you blush again, and then hear Joe singing a bit of the song under his breath.
"While the others talk, We were listening to lovers rock, In her bedroom," he mumbles.
“Lovers Rock?” You question. “Damn, someone’s music taste def rubbed off on you,”.
“Actually, it’s our playlist that’s on right now. But yeah, I’ve learned to enjoy this kinda music. Might be because of a certain someone,” he shrugs. 
“Hmm, whoever she is must have excellent taste,” you say as you turn up the volume.
“Oh trust me,” he says looking over at you, the look on his face sending shivers down your spine. “She definitely does,”. 
A short drive later, you both arrive at the party. Joe turns the car off, hops out, and jogs over to your side, helping you out of the car before you can even open the door. 
“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you reach to close the car door, but he beats you to it. 
“For you? Always,” he winks as he closes your door and loops your arm around his, leading you into the party. You blush at the contact, but why were you blushing? He’s just being friendly, right?
Before you can dive deeper into those thoughts again, you find yourself already inside the party. soft Christmas music was playing over the speakers as the room was filled with people. You could see why he didn’t want to go now, especially alone. There were a bunch of food stations around the room, holiday photo ops, Christmas games, and the whole 9 yards. It was all a little overwhelming and it looked like Christmas threw up all over the party venue. 
“Merry Christmas,” you whisper. 
“See why I didn’t wanna come here alone?” he laughs. 
“Ohh yeah,” you nod as he leads you over to your friends. 
“Joe! Y/N!,” Jess says as she gets up from the table, a huge grin on her face. 
“Hey Jess,” you chirp as you pull away from Joe’s arm to hug your friend. 
“Hi Jess,” Joe smiles. “Where’s Sam?”.
“Oh, I think he’s over by the drinks with Ja’Marr and Ted,” she says as she pulls away from the hug. 
Joe looks over at you and you already know what he is going to ask, “Go,” you laugh. “I’ll be here with Jess. Yell if you need me?”.
“You got it,” he smiles as he walks over to the guys. 
“I guess Joe strung you along with him tonight?” Jess asks as she sits back down, pulling out the chair next to her for you. 
“Yeah,” you laugh as you sit down. “He didn’t wanna go and asked if I could go with him to make it more tolerable,”.
“Sounds like Joe,” she laughs. “He really hasn’t changed since college has he? He always used to drag you along to all the parties,”. 
“Not at all,” you smile as you see him laughing with the guys. 
“So, first thoughts about the party? Since it’s your first time here,” she asks as she takes a sip of her drink. 
“Verrry Christmasy and grand. Maybe a little Overwhelming?” you sigh. 
“That sounds about right,” she laughs, looking up and smiling, prompting you to turn your head. 
Joe was walking over, a grin on his face and a drink in his hand. “I got you your favorite,” he says, placing the Peach Mojito down in front of you. 
“Thank You,” you smile up at him, squeezing his hand for a second. 
“I’m not drinking tonight so make sure you drink for me too,” he says. 
“Say less,” you say while you pick up your delicious drink. 
“You good though?” He asks.
“I’m great, go with the guys,” you say, flashing him a reassuring smile. 
“Okay. But if you need anything, just come over,” he says. 
“Same goes for you,” you say as he gives you two thumbs up before walking away. 
“Always making sure you’re good before he does anything else. Classic Joe,” Jess smiles, causing you to freeze for a second. He always did that though, right? That’s just what he does with all his friends, not just you. 
“No big deal,” you whisper to yourself. 
“Hm?” Jess asks. 
“Oh nothing, just talking to myself,” you brush off. “So wait. Did Joe go to the party last year?” you ask, changing the subject as you take a sip of your drink. That question was floating through your mind all day, and you needed to know the answer. He didn’t take you last year but he definitely went, but with who? 
“Mhm,” she nods. “He went with Stella,”.
Your heart drops when she says that name. “Ohh right, his ex,” you sigh. 
“Yup,” she nods.  
His ex-girlfriend Stella. You didn’t really know much about her since you only talked to her a couple of times. One day she was in the suite, then suddenly she wasn’t. You didn’t push Joe to tell you what happened, especially since he didn’t seem too upset about it. All he told you was that they both just didn’t work. 
“What happened between them? You know I usually don’t push him about his love life,”. 
“Oh I know,” she laughs. “I don’t really know the full story myself. All Sam told me was that Joe felt like it didn’t fit. Like it wasn’t really what he was looking for relationship-wise or person-wise,”. 
“Interesting,” you say as you sip your drink. You rarely interacted with his girlfriends. Not just because they wouldn’t stick around so why bother, but also because you felt like they didn’t really like your vibe for some reason. Maybe it was because he would always talk about you and spend time with you, but did they care that much? You were just friends anyway and you thought that was obvious.
Joe’s POV
“Sooo, you brought Y/N?” Ja’Marr teases.
“Yes… I did,” you say, taking a sip of your water. 
“Anything going on over there,” Sam teases as he pats your shoulder. 
“What? With me and Y/N?” You scoff. “Please, we would never-”.
“Now don’t lie to me Burrow,” Ja’Marr says. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t go running to her if she looked at you that way,”. 
“Ja’Marr is right,” Ted adds. “It’s kinda obvious you have a thing for her,”. 
“Are you guys drunk?” You scoff. “What’s with the sudden attack?”. 
“Nah, but you might be,” Ja’Marr says. “Wake up Man. You clearly like her. You’re always talking about her, you’re always with her and don’t forget all those times at LSU when you’d be going on about how you wished she was with you right now. Those feelings ain’t die that easily,”.
“There’s a reason that everyone thought and still thinks that she’s your girlfriend,” Sam says.
“That’s just overly invasive fans and their stupid speculation,” you deflect. 
“Mmm, not to mention, have there been any ladies on your radar since Stella? You both broke up in January which was 11 months ago. And the reason was that you didn’t think she was the right person for you,” Ted says.
“Mhm, and does the right person that you’re looking for happen to be sitting there next to my girlfriend?” Sam adds as points over at you. 
You look over at her, smiling as you see her laughing like a hyena at something Jess said. She looked angelic as the soft glow of the lights reflected off her beautiful face; her cute laugh caught your attention even though you were so far away from each other in the crowded room. 
Deep down, you knew they were right. You didn’t want to admit it, but you did have a thing for her and have had a thing for her since OSU. You never brought up those feelings to anyone, not even Y/N. You didn’t know if she felt the same way about you and you were too scared that you’d ruin your friendship if she didn’t feel the same way. 
Those feelings even stuck around at LSU. They actually got stronger since you were away from her for so long. But you once again didn’t want to screw up your bond, so you repressed those feelings as much as you could and tried to distract yourself, but distractions were only temporary. That’s also why none of your girlfriends suck around. They weren’t what you were looking for and you weren’t invested.  What you were looking for had always been by your side since Day 1, but you just didn’t know what to do about it without risking your friendship. You knew you loved her, and she knew that you loved her as a friend. But she didn’t know that you loved her a lot more than how just friends loved each other.
She was the perfect girl. Any man would be lucky to have her as his girlfriend. She was stunning, genuine, funny, fearless, the epitome of a dream girl. Her being your girlfriend was a dream, but it probably would never happen. It never happened all these years you had known each other, so why now? 
But what if she liked you back? You wouldn’t know because you never tried that door, even though you had the key in your pocket all along.
End of Joe’s POV
The party flew by quickly as you talked with the WAGs for a little, ate some yummy food, and Joe made his rounds as QB1 talking to as many people as he could before his social battery ran out. Occasionally, he’d look over at you if he got a little nervous or overwhelmed. The mere sight of you always calmed him down. And once his battery died, he found himself sitting next to you, as usual. 
Joe’s conversation with the guys still lingered in his mind as he watched you chat and drink with your friends. He didn’t know what to do about the feelings he was feeling towards you and how to handle them, so he decided to let it be and just let things flow the way they were. If something was going to happen, it would. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t. Forcing something would be the last thing he’d ever do with you. 
You were extra giggly for the past hour, definitely drunk since you were on your 4th, maybe 5th drink of the night. You weren’t really sure anymore since you and the other girls did shots at the bar earlier, so it was definitely more than 5. 
“Y/N, how many drinks have you had,” Joe asks as he looks over at you. 
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Numbers are funny,” you giggle as you grab his arms. “You look really pretty tonight, Joey,” you giggle as you grab another drink. “Have you thought about being a male model? I heard Calvin Klein does some pretty fun shots. The girlies would lose it. I know I would,” you giggle.  
Joe’s eyes widened as he blushed a little. You were clearly out of your mind drunk and he knew exactly what would happen when you got this wasted. You’d be all giggly, then you’d have the zoomies, and then you’d crash, hard. He couldn’t have this happen at the party in front of everyone and he knew you’d kick his ass if he let you act like this in front of them. 
“Okayyy, I think that’s enough drinks for tonight,” he says, taking your drink out of your hand.
“Noooo,” you whine as you reach for the drink. “It’s so good though,”.
“And so is weed but you don’t see me being high all the time,” he jokes as he pushes the drink further away from you. 
You raise your eyebrow at him and say, “That’s funnyyyy. Those shades are glued to your face for a reason,”. 
He stares at you for a few seconds, taking in every detail of your face. How your glossy lips were curled up into a smile, how little strands of your hair were falling onto your face, and how you were practically glowing in the soft light of the room. 
“I don’t think you’d particularly enjoy being crossfaded,” he says matter-of-factly. 
“Do you have some right now? Let’s test it out,” You say as your eyes light up.
Oh hell no. How drunk were you? Joe thought to himself.  “Y/N,” he says, staring deeply into your eyes, grabbing both your hands. 
“What?” You giggle softly as you play with the wristbands on his wrist. 
“Getaway Car,” he says.
You immediately sit up in your chair and turn serious at the words that left his mouth, reminding you what those words meant and what they were used for. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”. 
“I’m fine,” he laughs as he grabs your hand that was playing with his wristbands. “But you’re not. You’re 2 seconds away from falling over,”.
“What do you mean? I’m amazingggg,” you laugh as you stand up to prove your point, almost falling over but Joe places his hands on your hips, catching you before you can. His big warm hands were firmly holding you in place as heat climbed up your body at his electric touch. 
“Yeaah, we’re going home now,” he says as he gets up from his chair, not giving you a second to protest. He grabbed your waist with one hand to make sure you didn’t fall over as you said your goodbyes and made your final lap around the room. The hand that was wrapped around your waist caused butterflies to fill your belly. His touch was so gentle and fulfilling, yet had you craving more.
He led you out to the car, his hand still gripping your waist, as you were going on about how much you loved Christmas. 
“I just love giving gifts,” you giggle as you lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s sooo fun getting to see everyone’s reactions when they open the gifts I give them. Speaking of, what do you want for Christmas Joey?”. 
“Nothing,” Joe smiles. “I already have everything I want,” he says, looking down at you. 
You pause for a few seconds as your drunken mind tries to process what he said. You didn’t see him look down at you, but you could feel his gaze on you. He wasn’t talking about you, was he? He was definitely just talking about his life and career. 
“That’s funny. I already got your birthday gift down for next Sunday, but you gotta meet me halfway for Christmas,” you say, quickly dodging those thoughts again. 
“Mmm, still don’t want anything. For either occasion in fact,” he says as you reach the car. He removes his hand from your waist to open your door and then helps you sit inside. 
“Well too bad,” you smile as he sits in the driver’s seat. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,”.
“Have fun,” he says as he connects his phone to the Bluetooth; your playlist once again playing on the speakers. 
You fall back into your seat and bob your head along to the music as Joe pulls the car out of the parking spot, and leaves the party venue. A few minutes later, you’ve made it onto the highway. Your head is leaning against the comfy headrest as you look over at Joe. His tan skin was shining in the moonlight and his pink lips were curled up into a smile. You move your head to look out the window, taking in the gorgeous view of the Cinncinati Skyline, and then notice that Joe drove past the exit that you would take to get downtown to your apartment.
“Joe, you missed the exit,” you say as you flip your head back over to him.
“I know,” he laughs. 
“Uhhh, well are you gonna go a different way or?” you mumble.
“Nah, you’re way too drunk to be left alone tonight. We’re going back to my place,” he says.
“Joe, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine on my own and I don’t wanna intrude,” you say, sitting up in your seat.
“Intrude on what? It’s just me in that big-ass house,” he laughs. “Having some company won’t hurt,”.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Positive. I know how you get when you’re this drunk and I would be a terrible friend to make you deal with that alone,” he laughs. 
“Yeahh,” you trail off. “You’re such a great..friend,”. It pained you a little to say “friend” and you weren’t entirely sure why. It also pained Joe a little to hear you say “friend”. If only you would put “boy” in front of it, he thought to himself. 
“So it’s settled then. You’re getting the Burrow treatment tonight,” he winks, looking over at you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. 
“Uhhh, are we still talking about hangover care or?” you joke, breaking out into a fit of laughter. 
“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” he chuckles as he shakes his head. 
You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window again, watching the cars pass by one by one you let out a content sigh and got comfy in the car seat again. But then, the song on the aux changed, immediately catching your attention and causing you to flip your head back to him. 
Joe’s eyes light up as he hears the soft music playing in the background, recognizing the song instantly and raising the volume. 
“Ohh yeah,” you say, moving up in your seat and swaying your shoulders as you recite the song lyrics. 
“Because I'm eighteen, And I still live with my parents. Yeah, they're not like yours,” you belt out as you close your eyes and dance in your seat. 
“Well, yours are more understanding. I've never fell in love, I've saved those feelings for you,” Joe sings, looking right over at you as he sings that last bit. He watches you cutely dance around in your seat, his heart softening as he takes in the moment. Something about you sitting in his car seat, after a late night, on the way back to his house, made him feel all giddy inside. 
“So let's do all the stupid shit that young kids do. It's me and you, youuu,” you sing as you open your eyes and point at Joe, who looks a little..lovestruck?
Lovestruck? Please, as if he would ever feel that about you out of all people, you thought to yourself. The alcohol in your system was really messing with your mind right now. 
About 20 minutes later, Joe pulled into the driveway of his house, which was massive. He definitely had upgraded from his last house, just as he had hoped to and just as you said he would do. It was just him in this big house, all alone. He would often get bored since he didn’t have anyone around to keep him company, so he was more than ecstatic to have you over for the night.  
After parking in the garage, he helps you inside the house. He walks you over to the kitchen island, pulling out a barstool with his leg, and motioning for you to sit down.
“First order of business, Water and Advil,” he says as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, then moves to open the drawer to grab the bottle of Advil. He pulls out two tablets and hands them to you along with the water. 
“Thank you,” you say after you wash down the medicine with the water. 
“Second order of business, getting you something comfy to wear,” he says, grabbing your hand and yanking you off the stool. His warm hand molded perfectly against yours as he led you up the stairs to his bedroom. 
“But I don’t have any clothes here,” you mumbled as he pulled you into his room, still holding your hand. 
“That’s okay, you can just wear one of my big shirts,” he says as drops your hand and walks into his closet, returning to the room after a few moments with a purple LSU shirt in hand. “Is this good?” he asks.
“Perfect,” you whisper as you take the shirt from his hand. “Be right back,” you smile as you walk into his bathroom. 
You peel off your clothes from tonight, placing them into a neat pile on the vanity as you slip on his shirt. It was massive on you, no surprise there though. You smiled as you read the text on the shirt; it was his championship t-shirt from when he won the Natty. You scrunched up the fabric, bringing it to your nose, taking a deep breath, and remembering that amazing night.
Flashback to 2020 – New Orleans, Louisiana 
You looked over at the scoreboard, the score reading 42-25 just as the clock was winding down with only a few minutes left in the 4th quarter. 
“He did it, he really fucking did it,” you whispered as tears started to fall from your eyes, your friends all jumping up and down around you and screaming at the top of their lungs. 
“3..2..1,” Lydia screamed as purple and yellow confetti filled the stadium. The LSU tigers had just won the national championship, Joe had just won the national championship. After years of hard work and dedication, never backing down from a challenge, his dreams had finally come true, and you got to be apart of it and witness it. 
After watching the trophy presentation and the celebrations on the field from the stands, you made your way down to the field, hoping to get a moment with Joe before he was pulled in for media. 
You made your way through the crowds of reporters, players, and families in search of him, but you literally could not figure out where he was. 
“Did he already get pulled in for media?” you asked yourself as you looked around the field, your smile dropping. 
Suddenly, you felt two arms snake around your waist and pull you back into a warm embrace. “What the F-”.
“Calm down, Y/N, it’s just me,” he says, swaying you back and forth. You could recognize that voice anywhere, even in the loudest settings. You place your hands on his and turn your head up, meeting his baby-blue eyes. 
“Joe,” you whisper, feeling tears fill your eyes again. 
“Hi,” he mumbled before you flipped around in his arms and looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. 
“You did it,” you said, crying into his shoulder. “I’m s- so proud of you,”.
“Hey, Hey, why are you crying?” he asked, rubbing circles on your back for comfort. 
You pulled your face out from his shoulder and said, “Because, you’re a national champion now, Silly. This is what you’ve been working for and it finally happened. I’ve been fortunate enough to be by your side through the whole thing and can’t help but get emotional when my best friend just had his dream come true,”. 
He stays silent for a few moments before he pushes your head back into his chest. “Thank you. For everything,” he says, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He remembered how you had been nothing but supportive of his dreams since you met. There were days back at OSU when he would come back to his dorm after practice, feeling shitty and lost since nothing felt like it was going his way, and you would drop whatever you were doing at the moment to go and comfort him since he didn’t want to be alone. Those many late nights you spent trying to help him study and catch up on his work so that he could focus on football during the day. And nothing would ever come close to how you refused to miss a single one of his games, even if you were watching back in Ohio. He remembers you telling him that at your friend's bachelorette party, you had the game pulled up on your phone and sat at the bar the entire night watching instead of doing shots and dancing with your friends. 
The day he decided that he was going to LSU was hard for both of you. He could tell how you were holding back from telling him how you really felt, which was incredibly sad and upset, but you knew he had to do this for himself, and he watched as you plastered a smile on your face and cheered him on, even if it broke your heart. 
“You are the most strongest, dedicated, and talented person I know. I am so proud of youuu,” you squeal into his chest. 
Joe felt fireworks in his heart as he listened to you go on and on about how well he did in the game. Those feelings he had for you were so hard to avoid, and right now he felt like ripping the bandaid off and telling you how he felt straight up. But he couldn’t. He wanted nothing more than to kiss your soft lips right now and tell you that he loved you more than anything in the world, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he just enjoyed the feeling of you with him right now during one of the happiest moments in his life. There was no need to ruin it with his pipe dream.   
End of flashback 
You spent a few moments fixing your hair and washing your makeup off before turning off the lights and joining him back outside, but you stopped as you realized something. 
“Fuck, I don’t have shorts on,” you realize. You were just in his shirt, your white lace panties, and your socks, and didn’t know what to do. The shirt was big enough to cover your upper thighs and if you avoided any movement that caused the shirt to ride up, you would be fine.
“He won’t care regardless,” you whisper as you shake your head and leave the bathroom. 
While you were changing, Joe had changed into a pair of sweat shorts and a short-sleeved tee and was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Aren’t you cold? It’s December,” you giggle as you join him in the room again.
He looks up from his phone, heat rising up his cheeks as he takes in the sight of your bare legs and your body which was clothed by one of his shirts. Your cheeks were a little rosy, definitely an effect of all the alcohol you consumed. A feeling of nervousness now filled his body as he watched you put your stuff down on his table, the way your hips swayed from side to side, and how your hair bounced with each step. He realized that he hadn’t given you any shorts or boxers, so you were definitely just in your underwear right now, and that made him want to pass out. Why did he feel like a teenage boy all of a sudden? He had seen you in pajamas many times so why was he feeling like this? Whatever it was, it definitely was not helping the thoughts he had about your relationship earlier in the night because here you were, standing in his room, looking absolutely incredible. 
“You tell me,” he says as he raises his eyebrows. 
“Fair point,” you laugh as you walk over to his bookshelf, a photo frame catching your eye. He carefully watches you as you walk over to the picture, his heart feeling like it is about to beat out of his chest as he realizes what you are looking at. 
It was a photo of the two of you from one of his games at LSU. He was looking down at you, a huge grin on his face as if he was laughing at something you said. You were looking back up at him, smiling at his expression. You both were almost lost in each other’s eyes in this photo, something you hadn’t noticed before. This was Joe’s favorite photo of the two of you and he had managed to keep it to himself, up until now. 
Flashback to 2019 - LSU
You had flown into Baton Rouge early this morning and were going to surprise Joe at his game tonight since he had no idea you were coming. He had been begging you for weeks to come down for a weekend to see him because he missed you, but you kept pushing it off with lazy excuses so you could pull one on him. But little did he know, you had been planning a trip to see him for the past month. 
He caught a glimpse of you in the stands earlier, his entire face lighting up and his heart soaring. He thought he was dreaming for a second as he saw you sitting with his mom, wearing his number, and screaming his name, You waved over at him before the game started, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him as he was pulled into pregame warmups. Now, you were waiting in the tunnel as the game finished, eagerly waiting to see your best friend. 
You were chatting with Joe’s Mom as you waited for him to come out from the locker room. A few minutes later, you heard an all too familiar voice behind you. 
“You fucking liar,” he laughs.
You spin around, your heart skipping a beat as you see Joe standing in front of you. 
You walk over to him, launching yourself into his open arms and letting out a squeal as he tightly wraps them around your waist, slightly lifting you off the ground and swaying you from side to side. “I mm- missed you,” you sputtered, trying to hold back your emotions.
“And you said you were too busy with Jake’s cousin's wedding this weekend,” he says, his hand rubbing your lower back.
“Please, as if I would go to the wedding of my ex’s cousin rather than flying down to see my best friend who I haven’t seen in 5 months,” you say as he lets go of you, slowly sliding you back down to the floor. 
“Ex?” He asked.
“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you over the phone. We broke up,” you say as you meet his eyes. 
“Really?” He asks, trying hard not to smile. He felt bad that you and Jake broke up, but part of him felt a little happy that there wasn’t any other guy in your life taking his space at the moment. Jake got to do everything Joe would do with you but couldn’t because he was away. The movie marathons, game nights, trying new restaurants, arcade runs, shopping, building legos, literally everything, he got to do, and it made Joe a little jealous. 
He never really got too involved in your dating life. He felt like it was uncharted territory since he was your best friend and a guy. It would be a little weird if he was getting involved. He also didn’t want to give the guys the wrong idea about your friendship. Although, he did have moments where he wished that it was a little more than just a friendship.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Just didn’t feel right. He didn’t seem invested in the relationship lately anyway,”.
“Mr. Lovebombing not being invested? Shocker,” he teases. You felt your smile drop a little bit at his teasing. Yes, you were over him, but it still stung a little bit since you were pretty unlucky in the boyfriend department and this was just another addition.
He immediately felt bad for saying that, knowing how you felt about relationships, so he pulled you into a side hug. “Sorry, that was jerky,” he mumbles. 
“It’s okay,” you say as you pat his chest. “I should’ve seen it coming,”.
“Well if it makes you feel better, I never liked him anyway, he laughs. 
“Joe,” you say as you playfully swat his arm while pulling away from the hug. 
“Hey, can you blame me? He doesn’t like ‘The Office’. That’s a crime,” he deadpans. 
“I missed you so much,” you laughed, staring deeply into his eyes. God you missed him. You missed his cheery attitude, his million-dollar smile, and the comfort you’d feel when you were with him. Joe could turn your mood around in an instant and make you forget about everything bad in your life. No other guy could ever make you feel the way he did, it was an irreplicable feeling. 
“Me too,” he sighed. “5 months is way too long and you’re so far away,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet.
“I know but hey, I’m here now. And even if it’s for a few days, I’m here,” you say, gently rubbing his bicep.
He looks back up at you with a smile, “Yeah, you are,”. He looked into your chocolaty eyes, searching them for a few moments, hoping to find something in them that he’d been waiting for, but he was interrupted by your laughter. 
“They might have to force me onto the plane back to Ohio. I’ve been here for a day and I don’t want to go back,” you giggle. 
“I can sneak you into my apartment,” he shrugs. “Just act like you’re on the football team and you’re golden,” he jokes. 
While you two were talking, Joe’s mom snapped a few photos of your reunion, neither of you noticing the camera snaps.
“Oh yeahh. I’ll totally fit right in,” you say, shaking your head. “I can be your new star Wide Receiver,”.
“Ja’Marr and Justin might have a problem with that,” he shrugged. 
“They won’t when they see how great of a duo we make, on the field and off,” you wink. 
 End of flashback 
“I haven’t seen this one,” you smile as you look back at him. “Gatekeeping, Burrow?”.
“It’s one of my faves so yes, yes I am gatekeeping,” he shrugs. 
“Well, I’m stealing it,” you say, picking up the frame. 
“Uhh, no you’re not,” he says, slowly standing up from the bed. 
“Ohh yes, I am,” you tease as you turn around to meet his eyes. He walks over to you as you slowly walk backward, moving away from him. 
“Okayyy, I think it’s time for bed,” he says as he reaches out to grab you, but you take another leap back towards the door. 
“Nopeee,” you smirk. “Catch me if you can,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him before running out the door. 
“We are not about to do this,” Joe mumbles as he runs out the door, following you as you run through the halls of his house. Giggles and Laughter echo throughout the house as you run down the stairs, looking back a couple of times to see if he is still there, and he is. Even though he was exhausted, he was enjoying chasing you throughout the halls of his house. The usually quiet halls were now filled with your shrieks and giggles, a sound that he loved to hear. You run over to the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as Joe runs to the couch to grab a pillow. 
“Joe!” you scream as he grabs a couch pillow, launching it straight at your head but you quickly duck. 
“You asked for it,” he laughed. 
“Oh, it’s on,” you grin as you place the photo on the island, making sure it didn’t get caught in the battle. 
“Whatcha gonna do?” he smirks as he places his hands on his hips, bouncing from side to side.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say as you slowly walk over to the comfy chair next to the dining table, grabbing a stray couch pillow and hiding it behind your back. 
He notices you hiding a pillow behind your back, so he leans down and grabs another one. While he was doing this, you ran over and started hitting him, gently of course, with the soft pillow. 
“Got youu,” you giggle as you smack him with a pillow repeatedly. 
“Nope,” he smirks as he grabs his pillow and swings at your abdomen. His strength was unmatched so the hit sent you back a little, almost causing you to fall over.
“Oh, now you’re done for,” you grin as you attack him with the soft pillow and he does the same to you. Giggles and squeals filled the room as you playfully battled it out, neither of you willing to give up. But soon, the teasing turned into a full-blown pillow fight as you both unleashed your inner children, swinging your pillows with wild abandon. Feathers flew everywhere, coating the floor in a soft, white blanket. A couple of swings later, you catch Joe off guard, tackling him to the ground as you place your legs on each side of his hips, caging him in on the floor. 
You hold your pillow above your head in mock triumph. He wriggled beneath you, trying to grab the pillow away, but you held it just out of reach, teasing and taunting him.
“I winnn,” you laugh as you look down, smiling at Joe's disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. You were so caught up in the childish moment that you didn’t even realize you were straddling his hips right now, and his hands were resting firmly on your hips. Your shirt had ridden up your thighs a little and you were definitely showing a little too much down there, but you were so caught up in the moment that you couldn’t care less.
“Zoomies?” Joe giggles as he looks into your eyes. 
“Zoomies,” you nod as you throw the pillow to the side, trying to catch your breath. A million thoughts were now rushing into your head at once. You were literally on top of him right now, but he didn’t even seem bothered by it. It was like he was enjoying it. Was he enjoying it? You move your hand down, placing each one on his biceps and digging your nails into his soft skin. 
Joe was trying so hard not to say something about how you were on top of him right now. He was just enjoying the sight of you above, as silly and sultry as that sounded. He looked down and noticed your bare thighs and the shirt riding up and you seemingly weren’t wearing anything under it other than your underwear, just like he had thought. God, you just looked so pretty and sexy, he thought to himself. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were blush pink, but you still looked gorgeous. You seemed so relaxed and comfortable, and he was trying so hard not to ruin the moment by saying something stupid. 
“You look so pretty,” he thought out loud, his face turning red as he realized he said that to you.
“Thank you,” you smile back, internally screaming at his comment. Was he being extra affectionate tonight, or were you just delusional? You definitely looked like a mess right now, and in no way did you look pretty, but his compliment still made your heart soar. A soft yawn left your lips as you rubbed your eyes, now feeling the ‘crash’ part of your hangover. 
“Crash time?” he asks as he rubs your thighs, your stomach fluttering at the contact. Why was he being so lovey-dovey right now? His soft hands massaged the plush skin of your thighs as you stared deeply into his baby blues, trying to make sense of what was going on. 
“Yeah,” you say as another yawn escapes your lips. You get off of him, slowly standing up as you are feeling the aftermath of the zoomies. Joe holds out his hands just in case you fall over as he gets up. 
“You can sleep in my bed and I can take the couch. The guest bedroom is kinda a mess right now since I’m using it for storage until they finish the basement,” he says.
“Hell no. I don’t wanna kick you out of your own bed,” you say as you pick up the pillows from the floor and put them back on the couch, your legs a little wobbly and your head feeling a little woozy. “I’ll take the couch,”.
“No way. You take the bed,” he says as he picks up the stray feathers from the floor. 
“Not happening, Joseph,” you mumble as you help him gather the feathers.
He heaves out a sigh, “I’m too tired to fight you on this. Why don’t we just share it?”. 
Your heart skips a beat as you look up at him, the look on his face telling you he is 100% serious. Although you and Joe had been friends for years, you had never slept in the same bed together. 
“As long as you’re not a kicker,” he jokes.
“Please, I sleep like a baby,” you say as you walk over to the trash can, throwing the feathers into the bin. “Besides, I’m more of a cuddler and not a kicker,”. 
“So that’s a yes?” He asks, trying not to sound too eager, especially at the mention of cuddling. 
“Fineee,” you smile. “If you insist,”.  
Internally, Joe was screaming. He told himself that he’d let things flow the way they were and let things happen naturally, that’s if something were to happen. He didn’t know if he was just reading into things a little too much, but was it just him or were you acting a little different around him?
Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. There was no reason for you to get so worked up over sharing a bed with Joe. It was nothing, just you sleeping right next to him, together under the covers, so incredibly close to his body. It was definitely nothing. 
A little later, you're getting ready for bed as Joe brings out an extra pillow for you. You walk over to the bed, open the soft covers, and slide in. His bed was so comfortable; so soft and like a cloud. He turns off the lights and plugs in his phone before joining you in bed. Your heart was beating so fast as he moved into the bed next to you. There was no reason for this to be weird, but you were making it weird. 
You moved back against the pillow, sliding down the bed, and pulling the covers up to protect you from the chilly room and to hide your nervousness. 
“Did you have fun tonight?” You asked Joe as you stared up at the ceiling. 
“Actually? I did. All thanks to you,” he said. 
“Really?” You giggled, moving your head to look at him. You could barely make out his face in the darkness, but you could tell he was looking at you. 
“Yup. You make everything more enjoyable and bearable for me,” he said, turning his head back over and staring up at the ceiling. “Did you have fun? I hope these football things aren’t getting too repetitive for you,”.
“Not at all repetitive. You know I love doing this stuff with you. I needed a break from life and this was just the thing. Thanks for bringing me with you,” you smiled.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You know I’m always here when you need something, even if it’s an escape from life for a day,” he says as he moves his hand down to yours, entwining your fingers together as he gives your hand a soft squeeze. Butterflies filled your stomach at his soft touch and meaningful words. 
“Besides, I enjoy having you as my permanent plus 1,” he laughs. 
“Permanent?” You ask, feeling the heat rise up your body again. 
“Yeah,” he sighs. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not having much luck in the girlfriend department,”. 
“Not saying you’re filling in those shoes and are a filler,” he says, quickly trying to soften his words because of how jerky it sounded. “I just like having you with me all the time, Ya know? That’s prob why people think you’re my girlfriend”.
“It’s okay, Joe. I know what you mean,” you say, adding a fake laugh into the mix. Your stomach did a somersault when he said that. Were you really about to have this conversation about that topic right now? 
“But please, I could name at least 100 girls who would be standing at your doorstep in an instant,” you giggle. 
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want any of those girls,” he says, craning his head over to face you, his hand still holding yours, now tighter. 
“I want someone who matches my vibe. Someone who makes me feel normal and doesn’t constantly remind me that I’m a millionaire quarterback. Someone that I can take home to my parents and can feel comfortable around. Someone who can enjoy the simplicity of playing Smash-Bros and building Legos as a date. Someone that appreciates the real me and not the superficial flashy shit,” he says. As he was saying all of this, the girl he pictured in his mind was you. He was describing you. You were what he wanted. 
“You didn’t find that with Stella?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he was implying.
“Nah. She was great at first but as time went on I realized that she was more into the lifestyle of dating a football player than the actual relationship part. And I also didn’t feel fireworks with her,” he said.
“Ah yes. Fireworks. Just like your Mom told us,” you remembered. His mom had told you at dinner a few years ago that when she met his dad, she felt fireworks. Fireworks are what you feel when you meet the right person, according to Robin. You hadn’t felt fireworks with any other guy other than Joe, but you never told that to anyone. And he felt the same. He felt fireworks every time he was with you and he’d never felt that with any girl. 
“Yeah so I’ll probably die alone, he jokes.
“Please, we’ll die alone together,” you say as you take your hand out of hold and playfully shove his shoulder.
“I’m assuming there’s no guys on your radar?” He wonders, hoping you would say no.
“Nope. There hasn’t been any since Noah,” you replied.
“That was 8 months ago,” Joe gasped.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” you laughed. “You know I’ve never had luck with guys. None of them match my vibe and want something else out of the relationship that I don’t agree with. I want someone real, genuine, and serious,”. 
“I could name 100 guys that would be at your doorstep in an instant,” he says, echoing your words from earlier.
“Doesn’t mean I want any of them,” you say, echoing his words. 
“Fair point,” he laughs. 
“Yeah. So I’ll die alone too,” you joke.
“Technically not alone if we die alone together. We’ll have each other,” he said. 
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you yawned, feeling another wave of tiredness
“Sleepy time?” Joe chuckles. 
“Mhmmm,” you groan as you stretch out your arms. “Don't ever let me drink that much again,” you mumble as you pull the covers higher. 
“You got it. Goodnight, Y/N,” he smiles as he turns his head over to you. 
“Night, Joey,” you smile before turning over and letting out a deep breath. 
20 minutes passed by and you were still wide awake, not finding comfort in his bed which was odd considering it was like a cloud. Your thoughts about you and Joe were also keeping you from sleeping. Ever since your sister mentioned that you were acting like Joe’s girlfriend yesterday, your head was spiraling and the alcohol from tonight was making it worse. And the conversation you just had with him was making it even more confusing. Sure, you did some girlfriend-type things, but you knew he would never look at you that way. He saw you as a friend and that’s all, at least that’s what you thought. 
Suddenly, you felt Joe’s hand creep around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your heart stopped and your body froze from the sudden movement. What the actual fuck was going on. 
“Joe?” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes because you were literally about to scream.
“Hm?” He mumbled, half asleep. 
“Your arm,” you whispered.
“I’m cold,” he muttered as he held you tighter. “And you’re so warm and comfy,”. 
Your heartbeat picked up again as you felt his big hand sprawled out against your belly, not to mention that your ass was literally on his crotch right now. His body, although saying he felt cold, was hot. So very hot. 
“Is this weird?” he mumbles, opening his eyes. He really hoped that this didn’t weird you out.
You stayed silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say or do. You didn’t feel weird oddly enough as that sounded. Something about this felt natural and so right. 
“It’s okay,” you softly spoke. “I’m good,”. 
Joe smiled at your response, feeling like he was flying through the clouds right now as he was practically cuddling with his favorite person. Everything about this just felt so right, and he wasn’t the only one who thought so. 
“Good, you said you were a cuddler so I hope this is comfy,” he mumbled. 
You felt your heart exploding as he moved closer to you. His arm around you felt like a safety blanket, protecting you from everything on the outside. A comfortable embrace that you wished you had around you forever. It felt right.
“Trust me, it’s perfect,” you whisper, closing your eyes and losing yourself in his embrace, too tired from the night to fight back. 
A few moments later, you were fast asleep, finally feeling comfortable and it was all because of him. 
The next morning 
Your eyes slowly flutter open as the golden light shines through the windows. You reach out to grab your phone, the time reading 7:35 AM. You felt your head slowly start to throb, a sure result of your hangover from last night. You were just about to get up but you felt a heavy force holding you down. 
“What the-” you whisper as you look down, noticing Joe’s hand is still wrapped around your stomach. You had forgotten that you were at his house and in his bed, and he was still wrapped around you. 
“Uh oh,” you whisper. You turned your head around and saw Joe sound asleep, looking so adorable as his hair was sprawled out against the pillow and soft snores coming from his mouth. You remember that he brought you here after the party last night, which meant you had no way of getting back home. You didn’t want to wake him up because first, he looked so comfortable right now, and second, you didn’t know how to talk to him after what happened last night. Those thoughts you had about your relationship with Joe only got stronger after the night you had. Although nothing like that happened, your feelings for him surely got more complicated. 
“Don’t leave me,” you heard Joe mumble in his sleep. 
Your eyes widened at his soft words, was he talking about you? You turned your head around to see if he was awake, but he was still sound asleep and snoring again. He must’ve been sleeptalking, you thought to yourself. 
You pulled out your phone again, opening up your messages to beg your friend Lydia to come pick you up. She usually got up early on Saturdays for Pilates so she should respond.
You: emergency! please come pick me up 
Lydia: good morning to you too lol. everything alright? 
You: everything’s fine I just uhh need a ride home
Lydia: home? where are you?? 
You: joe’s house 
Lydia: oh 👀 
You sighed at your friend's text. Now was not the time to have this conversation and you knew exactly what she was going to say. You and Lydia had known each other since Ohio State so she pretty much knew everything about you and Joe’s friendship since you were all a part of the same friend group. She was a huge advocate for you and Joe to be a couple back at OSU, but you always shut her down before she could get too matchmaker-ish. She claimed that she saw something “special” between you two, but your ignorant ass brushed it off over and over, just like how you were doing now. 
You: just pls come pick me up
Lydia: on my way ;) be there in 10
You let out a relieved sigh as you carefully peeled Joe’s hand off from your waist, quickly replacing it with a pillow so he wouldn’t feel the difference, and thankfully he didn’t. You walked into the bathroom, grabbed your clothes from last night, and quickly exited his room. You glanced back at him for a few seconds, taking note of the smile on his adorable face and his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow that he thought was your waist. 
“Man,” you whispered to yourself as you turned back around and made your way down the stairs. 
You waited by the door for Lydia as your mind was exploding with thoughts now that you were sober enough to process everything. What the hell happened last night? Was Joe just being the usual Joe because something felt different about his mannerisms, words, and attitude toward you the entire night? And even this morning, his arm was still around your waist and seemingly wasn’t planning on moving it. 
You heard a car pull up and peeked out the window, seeing that it was your bestie. “Thank fuck,” you sighed as you had to escape the scene. You don’t know what you would’ve said to him once he had woken up. Especially since you were 100% in your senses now. 
You quickly opened the door, softly shutting it on your way out. You ran over to her car and hopped inside without a second thought. 
“Damn, you’re in a rush,” she laughs as she locks the door after you shut it. 
“No rush. Just uhh, need to get home,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.
“Whatever you say,” Lydia giggles as she puts the car in drive. “So how was it?” She asks. 
“How was what?” You say, raising your eyebrows.
“The sex, dummy,” she laughs.
“What?” You shriek as your eyes widen.
“Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. Is he as good in bed as he is on the field?”. 
You stare at her for a few quiet seconds before breaking out into a fit of laughter. 
“Oh my god,” you laugh as you lean forward. 
“Took you long enough. I’ve been saying this would happen for yeaaaars,” she boasts. “Why else would you need me to come to pick you up from Joe’s house at 8 am while you’re wearing what definitely is his t-shirt and I assume no shorts and just panties underneath?” She adds. 
“You’ve got it all wrong,” you wheeze. “I was super drunk last night from the Christmas party and he just brought me to his place,”. 
“Ahh, so drunken sex? Even better,” she teases as she winks at you.
“Lydia, we didn’t hook up,” you say, your laughter dying down. “He just gave me his shirt so I wouldn’t have to sleep in my outfit from the party,”. 
“Okayyy sure, but that still doesn’t explain why you ran out of his house so early in the morning and why he couldn’t take you home,” she said. 
“That’s a long story,” you say, taking a deep breath and falling back into your seat.
“We’ve got time,” she laughs.
“I don’t really know,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling of the car. “My sister mentioned the other day that I’m acting like Joe’s girlfriend and it just got me thinking,” you sigh. 
“Oh?” She says, a smile forming on her face.
“And last night was weird. I feel like he was being extra affectionate but I don’t know if that was just the alcohol in my system messing with me. And he was talking to me about how he hadn’t found the right girl yet, how he brings me everywhere and that’s why people think we’re dating, and how I’m his ‘permanent plus 1’ because he likes having me around,”. 
“Ohhhhh?” Lydia drags out, her face scrunching up as she tries to hold back from saying something about it.
“Don’t get too excited. I already knew that the general public thought that we were together, but I thought we were over that,”. 
“You won’t be able to get over that until you admit the truth. And the truth is that you like him. Like more than just a friend,” Lydia blurts out. “I see it, the public sees it, and I honestly think Joe sees it too,”. 
You stay silent for a few seconds, a little taken aback by her observation and not knowing how to respond to her since you can barely make sense of your feelings.
“Oh my god? You like him don’t you?!” She yells as she looks over at you.  
“I don’t knowwww,” you said. “There’s a lot of thoughts in my head right now and I don’t know what to think. I feel like he’s been acting differently around me, like more lovey-dovey differently but I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much,” you respond. 
“Okay, well what are the thoughts in your head saying?”.
“That I think I like him? Or still like him I guess. But I don’t know if he feels the same and I don’t wanna say anything because if he doesn’t, it’ll fuck up our friendship and I can’t lose him,” you say. 
“He’s so sweet and perfect. Joe knows me better than anyone and knows exactly how to cheer me up, calm me down, and make me have fun. I’ve never met anyone like him before and being by his side since day 1 has been a dream but also crazy. And the fact that he hasn't changed since we met is even more crazy. Even with all the money, fame, and attention, he's still Joe. My Joe," you smile. “The same adorable, nerdy, football player that was my lab partner in chemistry freshman year,”.
“Girl, you definitely love him,” your friend says, looking over at you with a straight face.
“Love?” You ask, your heart skipping a beat. 
“Yes, love. You’ve known each other since freshman year of college and if I’m not mistaken, those feelings have been there since then. You’re doing the same thing you did back then, letting your overthinking get in the way. You’re too afraid of losing him as a friend, but Y/N, what if he has the same feelings as you? This isn’t a matter of liking a boy, it’s a matter of you being in love with someone who you’ve had feelings for since you both met. That’s years and years of unanswered feelings that were being built up inside of you and spilling out right now,”. 
Were you in love with Joe? Have you been in love with him all this time? You find yourself smiling as you imagine you and Joe as a couple. Waking up to his adorable smile and sexy morning voice every day, going on cute little dates with him every week around town, kissing him good luck before every game, getting to curl up on the couch with him after every game, and talking about anything and everything together for hours on end without any limitations. It all sounded like a dream, a dream you wished was reality. 
Lydia looked over at your face, seeing you with a huge grin on your face and a blush creeping up on your cheeks.
“I knew it. You love him,” she says as she playfully shoves your shoulder. "There is a reason why none of your relationships work out. The person who you've been waiting for has been right in front of you this entire time,".
“Again, I don’t know,” you giggle. “I don’t wanna say anything to him because I don’t know if he feels the same way,”.
“I get that, I do. You don’t want to risk your friendship, but here’s my advice. Go with the flow. If something’s going to happen, it will. If nothing’s gonna happen, it won’t. Let things unfold naturally and if he’s there and waiting for you at the door, open it and never let him leave,” she says. “And I have a feeling that he’s gonna be at the door,” she adds. 
You spent a few seconds thinking about her advice. She was right, if you weren’t overthinking it and he really did feel the same way about you, he would be there. And if you were overthinking it, and he didn’t feel the same, you would accept it, bury those feelings for real this time, and keep the ball rolling.
You just had to wait and see.
To be continued! 
part 2 coming soon!
219 notes · View notes
mxmmyprentiss · 3 days
Text
how did it end?
Summary: You were supposed to be happy seeing Emily, your girlfriend, back from the dead but instead you were consumed with rage that they made you live like she's dead for months. Now, you don't know how to navigate your grief, anger, confusion and betrayal. Genre: (Heavy) angst Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: just lots of anger and depression Word count: 7K+
A/N:
I'm back with another (heavy) angst. Happy pride month, everyone! (Or in this case, happy wrath?)
All grammar and spelling mistakes are mine as I didn't have the energy to proofread. Enjoy the pain!
All likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!
Special shoutout and thanks to my friend @alexblakeisgay ! Thanks for believing I could write again. :)
AO3
The day after Ian Doyle was finally arrested, Hotch called for a team meeting.
“What’s this about?” You asked curiously, despite being annoyed that your visit to Emily’s grave was cut short.
Morgan only shrugged at you, no idea why any of you had been called.
“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team.” Hotch began. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize her. And she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she’s well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”
Everyone was shocked by Hotch’s confession. Most especially you. You stood behind Morgan, unmoving. Your feet seemed to be glued to the tiles.
“She’s alive?” Garcia clarified with tears in her eyes.
Reid leaned forward in his chair. “But we buried her.” He mumbled, confusion and betrayal mixed in his expression.
“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.” Hotch said, arms folded. His eyes met yours but your brain couldn’t comprehend everything fast enough to react.
“Any issues? Yeah, I got issues!” Morgan furiously said.
Everyone’s attention directed to the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned your head and you understood why everyone, except Hotch and JJ, looked like they had just seen a ghost.
Your legs felt weak and your heart unsteady. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what’s in front of you.
Emily took a careful step towards you. You took a step back.
“Y/N, I -”
“No,” You shook your head both in disbelief and in anger. “No!” You turned your head to Hotch and JJ. “How could you do this? How could you do this to me! I trusted you, you son of a bitch!” Before you stopped to compose yourself and take a breath, your palm met Hotch’s face. Morgan and Penelope held you back.
“It’s okay. Don’t hold her back.” Hotch told the two agents. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I deserved that.”
You wanted to say he deserved more because you had more slaps and punches to give. But Emily held your arm in an attempt to stop you. You flinched at her touch.
“Don’t touch me!” You yelled at her. “S-stay away from me!”
“Alright, alright. I’ll stay away.” Emily was taken aback by the crack in your voice but she listened to you and backed away. Her heart sank to her stomach. She had never seen you this angry before. 
“You stay away from me! I finally made peace with your death a week ago and I…” Your chest started to hurt, feeling like everything in the room was getting smaller and smaller and spinning. You ran towards the door and past the bullpen. You repeatedly pressed the elevator button but it couldn’t open fast enough.
Morgan ran after you. “Hey, hey. Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” You answered in confusion, still pressing the button. “I need to get some air.”
“Let me drive you home.”
The elevator finally opened and Morgan entered with you. All the pain, rage, confusion and betrayal finally caught up with your brain and as soon as it did, the tears kept coming. Morgan held you in his arms as you cried your heart out.
You did not leave the house for five days. You did not call anyone, especially people you worked with. Your phone remained off; you didn’t even bother to charge it. Instead, you found comfort in the darkness of your own apartment.
You didn’t know what day or time it was when you heard a knock on your door. It won’t be the first guest that you ignored. Each of the team had tried to check on you these past days but you remained under the blanket, watching whatever was on the TV.
“Y/N, please, it’s me.”
As soon as you heard Emily’s voice, the boiling rage inside you got the best of your words again. “You’re not welcome here! You’re dead!” You screamed and tossed a mug against the door.
Outside, Emily took a deep breath. “You’re not ready to let me in. I get it. But please, I want you to listen and hear me out. Just give me a chance to say some things then I’ll leave.”
Whether in annoyance or actually wanting to hear Emily out, it wasn’t important now. Emily felt relieved when the door clicked and you opened the door. You sat back on the couch and Emily stood a bit far from you, knowing you weren’t comfortable with your space being invaded.
Emily took a minute to stare at your state. The entire apartment was in a chaotic mess. In just a few days, you lost a little weight. Your eyes that used to be full of color and life turned sad, blue and lifeless. Emily couldn’t stop the guilt creeping inside her. This was her fault. She did this to you.
“I have no idea what you’ve been through during all this time that I was gone … but I know I hurt you. I swear if I had the choice, I wouldn’t have made this one. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt the person I love the most.” Emily was choking on her tears as she spoke.
You finally looked at her with pure disdain and Emily had to swallow, scared of the daggers that would come out of your mouth. “Hurt? You think you hurt me?” You huffed an exasperated laugh. “I’ve been hurt way too many times. I dealt with all that. You - “ You pointed your finger towards Emily. “You have to invent another word for what you caused me.”
Emily nodded because it was a fair statement, albeit painful. She sighed. “I understand.” There was a long pause before Emily spoke again, her voice was breaking as she did. “You … you are and always will be the love of my life. I would have never willingly put you through this. You have to believe me.”
Your breath hitched. You avoided Emily’s gaze. “I would have understood, you know.” You whispered.
Emily nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. She knew you were right. You would have understood. You would have prioritized Emily’s safety still. If only she had the choice then, she would have fought for it, fought for you. The whole time she was in Paris, she contemplated jeopardizing everything just to call you, to hear your voice one more time.
“I’m so sorry. You are the most important person in my life and I love you.”
“You don’t do this to a person you claim to love.”
Emily felt like she was being stabbed over and over. Your words were twisting the knife in her heart. “You’re right. I cannot fix the months of pain I caused you but please … please let me try. You mean the world to me. You were the only thing that kept me going while I was away. I cannot lose you. I cannot live without you, Y/N.” Emily went down on her knees as the tears streamed down her cheeks. 
“You did.” You replied coldly. “And the day you died,  I died with you.”
Emily moved closer to you, slowly. She gently hugged you, burying her face into your shoulder, sobbing. She heard all the pain and grief in your voice; all the pain you went through because of her death.
“I don’t know what you can do to fix this,” you said weakly.
Emily pulled away and cupped your cheeks, asking you to meet her in the eye but your stare was empty, almost as if you were looking past her skull. “I love you. I know words cannot fix this but I love you. We can figure this out together. Please…”
“I waited for months, refusing to believe that that funeral was ever real and that you would come back. I waited…”
Emily’s heart sank as she heard that. You didn’t believe the funeral. You didn’t think it was real. You waited. Months and months, you waited, thinking she was going to come back and that she was still alive. The realization hit Emily like a rock.
“I’m so sorry,” was all Emily could say.
“I know you are and I know it’s not your fault.” You replied in monotone. “But I have every fucking right to feel what I feel.”
Emily nodded, wiping her own tears. She tried to hug you again but this time you stopped her and Emily looked absolutely defeated.
“You can take your things. I already packed them a week ago. It’s in the bedroom.”
“Okay, okay…” Emily stood up. She collected the things she left in your apartment. It wasn’t a lot, mostly clothes and photos. Emily opened a small box and felt her heart shatter when she saw the golden necklace she gave you on your first date. This was yours. She sneaked it back into your dresser and left your room.
“Do you have a place to stay?” 
The question took Emily by surprise. “I’m going back to my apartment, I guess. I was staying with JJ for a bit.”
“Don’t die on your way out. Or do. I don’t know what other tricks the Feds have up their sleeves.” As soon as you said that, it left a bitter taste in your mouth.
And that was another dagger to Emily’s heart.
“I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t matter … but I love you. I always will.” Emily said before leaving.
Days passed since Emily came over, you still hadn’t left your house. You grew comfortable in the darkness and quietness of your apartment. You only ate when you couldn't stop the growling of your stomach, sometimes not even then.
Reid knocked on your door. He was worried about you. You didn’t answer any of your friends’ calls or messages. He won’t pretend to know how you felt but he, too, was hurt by the betrayal from Hotch and JJ. Reid wanted to at least make sure you were eating and that’s how he found himself knocking on your door with a takeout from your favorite diner.
He was relieved when you opened the door but the smile immediately fell when he saw what you looked like. Reid couldn’t believe his eyes. He stopped himself from asking if you were okay because he already knew the answer.
“What do you want?”
Reid stepped inside the house. “I wanted to come and check up on you. I bought food from that diner we went to last week. You said it was your new favorite.”
Your expression softened, appreciating the thought. Reid didn’t deserve your rage and rudeness. “Thank you, Reid.”
Reid nodded and softly placed the containers on the counter. He watched you for a second, frowning as he saw how red your eyes were and how dark the circles around your eyes had gotten. You had become thinner, too. Smaller.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked softly. This wasn’t an agent or a colleague trying to get you to speak up. This was a friend worried about another friend.
“I’m just waiting to decompose at this point.” You joked darkly.
That hit Reid a little too hard. He frowned, looking absolutely distraught as he heard that. Reid shook his head and sat on the couch next to you, looking at you with pained eyes. “You can’t be thinking like that. We all care about you. We’re your friends and we cannot just sit back and watch you fall apart like this.”
“You knew what I went through, Spencer. You were there - in every hospital visit, in every AA meeting. You have waited outside my therapist’s office every Friday making sure I’ll be there.”
“I know, I know …” Reid couldn’t finish his sentence, biting his lip. He looked down before looking back at you, trying to find the right words to say.
“I’m taking a few more weeks off.”
Reid nodded, saddened by your decision. “Of course. I - I’ll tell Hotch.” He frowned, knowing he and Hotch weren’t on good terms yet too. But it didn’t matter now. “Do you want to be alone? Or would you like not to be alone at the moment? I can stay if you want or I could leave …”
“I just want to be alone, Spencer. I’m not at my best right now and I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially not a friend.”
Reid nodded, respecting your decision. He didn’t push. He slowly stood, picking up his keys. He squeezed your shoulder. “Y/N?”
“Hmm?”
“Please … call if you change your mind, okay?”
“I will.”
Everyone gave you space after Reid’s visit. No knocks on the door. No phone calls. No messages.
But after a month, everyone started to worry. Reid and Morgan knocked on your door but you weren’t answering. They could hear the noise coming from the TV though. Morgan called your name while pounding on the door.
“Just kick it!” Reid ordered him and Morgan did.
Morgan was frozen, looking at you with eyes widened. “Jesus…”
Reid entered too, looking worried and heartbroken when he saw you. He looked around, seeing the apartment in disarray, food still uneaten on the counter, dishes piled up in the sink.
Morgan checked for your pulse. It’s weak but it’s there. He carried your body to their car and Reid drove to the hospital.
When you woke up the next day, you groaned the first second the light hit your eyes. You had been used to seeing only darkness for weeks.
Emily quickly sprinted to your side. “Hey, hey, are you hurting?”
“The light,” you complained. “Turn it off.”
Emily turned off the main light and switched on the dim light just above the sofa.
Reid stirred awake at the intrusion of light. He looked around and saw you awake. He excitedly got up from the sofa and sat on the chair next to your bed. “Hey.” He gave you a sad, pitiful look. He gently placed his hand on yours, careful not to displace your IV.
“S-sorry,” you mumbled to Reid.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You’ll be okay and we’re all here for you.” Reid glanced at Emily and she nodded. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Everyone will come by later after work.”
“Thanks, Spencer.” You said weakly then turned to Emily who was waiting for you to acknowledge her presence. “I’m leaving the BAU.”
Both of them were shocked by your words. Emily felt her heart drop to her stomach. Reid was staring at you in disbelief.
“Wh - what? Why?” Emily bit her lip, shaking her head, looking confused and broken.
“I don’t want that job anymore.” You simply said.
“Please do not make your decision while you’re in this state of mind. Y - you might be in shock -”
“No.”
Reid didn’t say anything. He remained seated, processing the words you said, that another friend might leave him.
“I - I don’t know how to make the pain stop.” Your eyes start to fill with tears, your vision becoming blurry. “I don’t want to hate you anymore. Or Hotch. Or JJ. But I can’t stop.”
Emily took in a sharp breath at your words, heart shattering as she now started to cry too. “I … I know we hurt you so, so much. I know I am the reason for all of this and I wish I knew how to make the pain go away. You don’t have to forgive me for it. I - I’ll leave the BAU instead. Please … just don’t leave.” Emily bargained.
“I wasn’t happy there anymore. I don’t know if I could be happy being there again.”
Reid squeezed your arm. “We understand you’re hurting but please … think about it. Don’t make any big decisions while you’re like this. Okay?”
You nodded even though you’ve already thought about it. In fact, that was what you thought in all the weeks you spent alone.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Spencer.”
Reid shook his head, trying to convince you he was fine. “No, no … it’s okay. We’re always going to care about you. You don’t have to apologize, okay?”
“You’re like a little brother to me. Always have and always will. No matter where I go.”
Reid bit his lip, trying his best to keep the tears back and failing. “I’m always here for you. No matter what. If you need anything,” He choked a sob. “P-please reach out. Please call.”
You ruffled his hair and Reid managed a smile. “You were always good to me. To everyone.”
“I just want you to be okay.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t believe you, judging from the way he looked at you. “Just … talk to someone, okay? Anyone. Me, Garcia, Morgan … anyone.”
You nodded, holding his hand reassuringly. “I will. Now, stop worrying about me and get me some jello, will you?” Reid choked on a laugh but your wish was his command. He got out of the room, leaving you and Emily alone.
“I …” Emily’s voice cracked. She was feeling all the guilt crashing her like a wave.
“I want to move on from this. I want … I want to look at you again and not be hurt.”
Emily’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at you. She bit her lip in an attempt to stop her lips from quivering. “I … hurt you so much…didn’t I?” Emily swallowed thickly as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper as she took a deep, shaky breath.
“I was supposed to be happy seeing you alive. For months, I hoped and hoped for you to be alive.”
“But you weren’t … you were hurt and angry and - and that was okay. You have every right to be.”
“But I want to move on from this.”
“I… I want you to as well. You don’t deserve any of this. You don’t deserve to be in pain because of me.”
“I want to be happy again.” Hearing those words gave Emily a little hope but it was short-lived when you added, “I’m going to quit the BAU. I’ll go back to teaching. I’ll go back to therapy. I will do what I have to do to stop this from eating me alive.”
Emily wanted to reach for your hand, to comfort you, to plead you not to quit the BAU, but she didn’t. That would just make things worse. Instead, she nodded at your words, still fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks as she watched you.
“I want to be the person that I was before I met you.”
Emily had a feeling you were going to say something like that. She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm her nerves. “Okay… okay…”
“And as for us … I don’t know.”
Emily’s whole world had shattered just like that. She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks now but she remained waiting for what you have to say.
“We’ve caused each other so much pain now to be happy together, don’t you think?”
Emily shook her head wordlessly, not believing your words but also not wanting to disagree with you. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the waterworks in her eyes.
“You need to heal. I do too.” You finally made a move and squeezed Emily’s hand. “You understand, right?”
Emily swallowed thickly, nodding a couple of times before she spoke. “Y-yeah … I understand.”
“I want to be okay again with seeing you.”
“I want that too.”
“Because right now, when I look at you, I don’t see the woman I loved for so many years.”
“I … I understand …”
“You have to know that a lot of things happened to me in the months you were … dead … and I can’t just come back to the same old.”
Emily knew that. There was no coming back to how you two were, to the “normal” days before her fake death. Nothing was the same except for the way she felt about you.
You let out your hand for a handshake and Emily took it, squeezing softly. “Thank you, Emily.”
She couldn’t say a word but left a soft, wet kiss on your hand.
Two days after you got out of the hospital, you passed your resignation to Hotch. He accepted it wholeheartedly. He didn’t try to stop you. But he did apologize again for the decision he made. He didn’t take your relationship with Emily into consideration and watched you suffer through the whole thing. You told him that it will take time to forgive him just yet but you were grateful for everything that this job taught you.
When you exited his office, Garcia quickly dragged you to the meeting room and put a party hat on your head. You were met with a shout of “surprise!” from everyone on the team. Emily was there as well, standing in the sidelines, sipping a drink and eating finger foods as you said your goodbyes. It was hard for her to see you now that you’re not going to be a part of the team anymore. The guilt was slowly eating her inside.
Garcia asked for a speech and you delivered. “I … I had the best and worst times here. For years, you guys have been my family, my friends, my rock. You still are. I want to thank you all. I promise to keep in touch. I’m only a phone call away.”
The team all spoke up in turn, wishing you luck, thanking you for being an amazing member of the team and how they will all miss you. Emily was the last one left. She slowly stepped closer to you, standing in front of you with a shaky breath.
“I … I wish you nothing but the best. I hope you’re going to be okay. I really … I really do.”
Your lips curved into a tight smile. 
Garcia called for a toast. To you. Colleague. Friend. Family.
Emily had seen the teaching job offer at the university you and Reid were teaching. She didn’t hesitate to apply, seeing how it helped you and Reid move forward and she hoped it would do the same for her. And it wasn't that far from Quantico, just a 15-minute drive.
Emily saw you came to class and saw you setting up and getting ready to teach the class. She sat quietly at the back, waiting for the lessons to start, and taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. It had been one year, five months, two weeks, and three days since Emily last saw you. Not that she was counting. (She definitely was.)
But if she was going to teach in this university too, she had to get used to seeing you again and being in the same room with you and not being able to talk to you.
Emily watched as you taught the lesson, taking notes as you spoke, completely focused on you. She slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm her heart rate as she listened to your voice. She was impressed by you, not seeing this side of you before. Emily couldn’t help but admire you from afar.
When the class ended, Emily slowly descended the steps of the classroom, nerves on edge as she approached you, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t help being nervous around you, knowing that she couldn’t get close to you. Not anymore.
Emily took a deep, shaky breath before she spoke. Her words were quiet, a contrast to how she used to be with you. “You … you taught really well…”
You looked up, meeting a set of familiar big brown eyes. Emily’s breath was taken away when she saw your smile. “Thank you, Agent Prentiss.” you said politely. “Are you enrolled in my class?”
Emily’s cheeks flushed red at the question, clearing her throat. “I, uh, I just saw you were teaching and decided to sit in. That’s … allowed, right?” She gave a small smile, looking shy and awkward, not knowing what else was there to say.
You let out a small laugh. “I was just messing with you.”
“Oh,” Emily laughed awkwardly. She took out a piece of paper from her bag, wanting to prolong the conversation. “I actually have a question with number five,” She pointed at the question she needed help with. It was an excuse but she hoped you wouldn’t catch it. She talked about her question, or rather the excuse to be in your presence. 
You tried your best to explain to her the answer to the question. Emily couldn’t help but stare and be mesmerized by you. She had missed you looking at you, into your eyes, seeing the way your mouth forms the words. You always enunciated your words well and Emily found it so endearing, so utterly perfect. It took everything in her not to reach out and touch you, to hold your hand and tell you how much she still loved you, how much she had missed you.
But she couldn’t and this felt like pure torture for her.
“How was the BAU?” Emily was surprised by your question. She thought you completely forgot that life behind, knowing you didn’t try to visit at all after you had resigned.
“It’s okay. We miss you around there.” She lied. Not the missing you part. The okay part. It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t the same since you left. It felt like a part of it was missing. The thought of you plagued her mind every single day that she spent in the BAU.
“I miss being out in the field as well.”
A small, sad smile graced Emily’s lips when you said that. She missed all the times you were working together, solving cases, theorizing about UnSubs, and spending time together. And she had ruined that. All because her past caught up to her.
“I …” Emily swallowed thickly, biting into her lip as her eyes suddenly watered. “I miss you …”
You stared at Emily, surprised by her confession. You didn’t know what to say.
Good thing that a knock on the door distracted you.
The moment you were distracted, the moment another person came in, Emily wiped her tears away, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. The moment you started talking to the other person, giggling at the conversation, Emily’s heart ached a little, knowing you had moved on. But she had to get used to it. She made her bed and now she had to lie in it. She quickly put her things back in her handbag, about to leave the classroom when she heard you call her name.
“Emily.”
Emily stopped. “Yeah?”
“I want to introduce you to my friend, Alex Blake. Former FBI agent as well. Alex, this is SSA Emily Prentiss.”
Emily shook Alex’s hand, giving a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Blake.” She said, her tone soft, the same smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes that she gave everyone else but you.
Emily tried to seem happy as you conversed with Alex, forcing her lips into a small, polite smile. She felt her heart shatter a bit more upon seeing you converse so normally with another person that isn’t her. But she had to deal with it.
When you bid goodbye to Alex, you turned to Emily. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”
Emily shook her head. “No, I don’t. Why?”
“We should go out sometime … with Alex. Exchange FBI stories if you want?”
Emily’s heart nearly stopped beating as you said that. She tried not to feel too excited and hopeful. A million thoughts raced through her head, and they all boiled down to one simple question: Was this a sign of a new chapter in your broken relationship?
“Y-yeah, that sounds good.”
“I’ll invite Spencer too. He adores Alex.” You added excitedly.
Emily smiled again, a little bigger and more genuine this time, feeling a bit more relaxed when you say that.
You picked up your bag and your laptop, ready to leave. “See you next time?”
Emily nodded, feeling a bit sad at the thought of you leaving. But she knew she couldn’t keep you forever. “Of course. I’ll see you next time.”
After almost two years, you decided to finally take that long-awaited visit to the BAU. Everything was going well with your therapy and your new job. This part was the only thing in your life that was left untouched and unresolved. It was time to make amends with that.
When the elevator opened, you were greeted by your former colleagues. Many of them missed having you around since you left, especially Garcia. Everyone gathered around and took a piece of the donuts you brought. Reid introduced Lewis and Alvez to you. They were fairly new members of the team since Hotch was promoted Section Chief and Morgan resigned to be a full time dad. You also learned that Emily was promoted a month ago as unit chief of the BAU.
Emily was in her office when you dropped by, working some paperwork and trying to avoid unnecessary social interaction. She moved her blinds to take a peek at the commotion she heard and was surprised to see you surrounded by your friends. 
When you glanced at the office and saw Emily peeking from her window, you excused yourself from the group and snatched away a box of donuts. You knocked on her door. “Now that you run this unit, you don’t leave the office anymore?”
Emily’s head looked up to you and away from the paperwork on her desk. Her breath hitched a little in her throat as she heard your voice. “Come in.”
“I offer you donuts.” You said with a smile, putting the box down on her table.
“You really didn’t have to.”
“I got it for everybody and that includes you.”
Emily smiled at you. It was hard for her not to just stand up and hug you from the moment you came into her office. Every instinct in her body was screaming for her to do it but she stayed in her seat, biting on her lip.
“I’m sure they’ll love it, especially Spencer. He has a sweet tooth.”
“He does.”
Emily fell silent for a moment, her eyes lowering as she thought of what to say next. “I…” She paused for a second, taking another deep breath. “I missed you …”
You smiled widely, as if teasing her. “You missed me? Don’t you see me every week in my class already?”
She laughed softly, shaking her head at your teasing. “You know what I mean.”
You swallowed nervously, staring at Emily. Her eyes softened as she held your gaze. “You don’t know … how much I miss you.”
You were about to say something when Reid knocked and entered the office. He was excited to tell you about the puppy he adopted through Alvez.
Emily tried to push down the disappointment but her eyes turned cold for a moment as she saw how excited you were over the dog. Her heart ached with jealousy and frustration, and she had to bury herself back on the paperwork so that she wouldn’t snap at Reid.
At some point in the conversation, you were dragged back to the bullpen. Emily followed but your conversation was left on hold or forgotten, she wasn’t sure.
Seeing you interact with the team caused more heartache for Emily because why couldn’t it be her? Why couldn’t she have one normal interaction with you? But she tried to keep her feelings at bay for the sake of the team. She stood beside JJ, her expression blank and face neutral as she tried to act normally and control her emotions.
Emily went back to her office after giving up on continuing the conversation that you two had. She sat in her chair, leaning forwards slightly as she tried to focus on the files on her table, but she couldn’t help glancing at the door every few minutes, waiting and hoping you would walk in.
When she heard footsteps and a knock on her door, she practically jumped up, straightening out her attire before opening the door. Her heart started racing in her chest.
“I’m going home.” You informed her.
Then Emily’s heart started to ache as it raced, saddened by the news of you leaving already. But she gave you a smile and a nod, trying to seem less affected by it. “Yeah, uhm… I’ll see you then.” She said softly.
You gave a small wave before she watched you walk away. She closed the door and sighed into her chair, her face buried into her palms.
You just walked past the glass doors when you decided to turn around and come back to Emily’s office. You knocked before opening the door. “By the way…” You paused, trying to gain back the courage.
Emily froze in her seat when you suddenly came back. “Y-yes?”
“I missed you too.” You said all in one breath then you clenched your jaw to regain some control as the blush crept up your cheeks. “Bye.” You closed the door rather loudly, losing every bit of the courageous nerves that you had in your body.
Emily’s heart was racing before but now it was running a marathon. She barely managed to compose herself before a smile formed across her lips. Her cheeks blushed slightly as the realization of what just happened sunk in.
You missed her too.
The next time you saw Emily again was surprisingly not in your class but at the little coffee shop just outside the university grounds. Emily was in her casual clothes, sipping slowly on her drink as she got some reading done. Her expression was calm and peaceful, a look of contentment on her face. She glanced out of the window a few times, waiting for no one in particular until she saw you walking on the other side of the street. Then she saw you walked in and waited in line.
You asked the barista your usual and paid for your drink despite Dana’s, the barista, insisting that it’s on her. You scanned the place for a vacant seat and only found one. Across Emily. You took your cup and walked to Emily. “Hi. Fancy meeting you here.” You said. “Can I take this seat or…?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s not taken.”
“So, what are you doing here alone? It’s a little out of the way from Quantico.”
“I forgot to tell you that I started teaching classes here two months ago.”
“You did?”
“Y-yeah. That's why I sit in your class every Thursday. Your class was just an hour after mine.”
“Oh. So you’re Professor P.” You said with a smile. “Some of my students have developed a certain admiration for you.”
“Well, as far as admiration goes…” Emily looked down on your cup and turned it around to show you the phone number and short message that was written in your cup. “Who’s that?”
You frowned. “That’s Dana, the barista and former student of mine.” You sighed. “She keeps giving me her number and I don’t plan on getting called to the Dean’s office for inappropriate relations with a student. I’m surprised she doesn’t get prank calls every time I throw a cup away.”
Even though Emily’s heart still hurts a bit, jealousy clawing into her gut, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea of you throwing the cup away every time. “She must really like you.” She commented with a small smile, her words holding a tiny pinch of hurt in her voice.
“And if I liked her back then maybe she finally put something in my drink.” You huffed a laugh. “But she’s harmless.”
Emily nodded in agreement. “You’re just a pretty lovable person.”
“You’re just saying that.”
Emily shook her head, smiling. “I’m really not.”
The two of you got quiet for a second until you asked, “Do you want to have dinner?”
She looked a bit surprised at that but her expression quickly morphed into a smile. “Sure. I’d love to.”
”You still like Asian food right?”
“Of course. I’m practically addicted to spicy Asian food.”
“There’s an Asian Street Food Festival not far from here. You wanna come?”
“Do you even have to ask?” Emily’s heart filled with excitement at the thought of having dinner with you alone after a very long time. It was like her prayers were finally being heard.
You invited Emily to your car and drove her to the place. She looked out the window the whole time as you drove, her eyes flickering between looking at the scenery outside and watching as you drove.
As soon as you arrived, Emily bought a variety of spicy foods while you settled on the savory ones. When everything got too much to hold, you both settled on the bench under a big tree. Emily’s mouth watered at the vast amount of food on the table and her excitement grew.
“This is delicious,” Emily said, glancing over at you as she swallowed her bite. “You do know how to pick the best places.”
“Well, I stumbled on this place accidentally when I ran away from a date last month.”
A small laugh escaped her lips at that, raising an eyebrow and feigning surprise as she glanced at you with a teasing expression on her face. “You ran away from a date?” Emily asked, trying to sound lighthearted and innocent despite the sudden flare of jealousy in her chest.
You nodded, grimacing as you remembered the experience. “It was horrible. She ordered for me and didn’t even let me look at the menu.”
She snorted, shaking her head in both understanding and sympathy. “That’s irritating. I would have run away too.”
“I never had much luck with meeting new people.” You confessed sadly.
Emily’s expression softened a bit at your words. Her eyes filled with gentle understanding and warmed as she looked at you. She reached out, gently placing her hand on top of yours. A small, reassuring smile spread across her lips as she spoke with sincerity. “Dating can be hard but that doesn’t mean you won’t find someone to share your life with.”
“That’s the problem…” Your eyes met Emily’s, your chest suddenly felt a little tight. “I found her already.”
Emily’s eyes widened slightly at your words, her heart practically stopped for a second before it continued beating rapidly. Her face flushed with a dark, rosy blush. Her eyes flickered from you to the food in front of her. Her voice came out a bit breathless and her words slightly flustered. “Y-you did?”
You nodded wordlessly, taking a bite of the food, and trying to avoid her gaze.
Emily’s entire body tingled with excitement and nervousness. “Is there a chance she feels the same way you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then maybe you should ask her how she feels just to make sure.”
“I will.”
“Y-you should.”
It was your turn to ask. “Have you ever had any luck? Meeting new people?”
“No.”
“Why? Did the promotion really take too much of your time?”
“It just didn’t feel right.” She admitted, her voice soft, almost sheepish as she fiddled with her food. When she saw the confused expression on your face, she added, “It just didn’t feel right trying to date someone that my heart didn’t belong with.”
You were quiet for a moment. Emily was too. You both focused on finishing the food on your table.
“I want to apologize,” you spoke a while later.
Emily’s eyebrows rose slightly. “For what?”
“For all the things that I said out of anger back then.” Emily’s eyes widened slightly at that. Her heart clenched tightly in her chest as she listened to you. “I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me and … it wasn’t fair. Not to me, not to you. I wasn’t in the right headspace. I was … grieving you and the life we had together. All I knew was that I was hurting and everyone must too.”
The guilt bubbled inside Emily as the realization of how much pain she had caused you. Emily took in a deep, shuddering breath.
You continued, “But if I ever made you think that you should have stayed dead, then I’m sorry. It wasn’t… it wasn’t what I really wanted.” Your voice slightly choked on with emotion. “I’m sorry, Emily.”
Emily squeezed your hand tightly, eyes glistening with tears. The guilt was swelling up inside her along with a flare of affection. “I … I forgive you.”
You felt the tightness in your chest slowly loosen and you felt like you could breathe again. You squeezed Emily’s hand, holding her gaze lovingly.
“I…” She tried, her voice coming out in a shaky, slightly choked gasp. “I love you.”
Your breath caught in your throat, heart skipping a beat as your eyes glistened with affection and adoration and finally Emily could see it again: the woman she fell in love with all those years ago, before all the hurt and the pain, before everything. 
“I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” You said truthfully.
“I think I never stopped loving you either.”
You let out a small, content sigh. “Where do we go from here, Emily?”
Emily stood and offered her hand. You took it and to your surprise, she pulled you into her arms and locked you in a gentle embrace. “Well, we can start by going to my apartment and I can make us some tea. I’ll give you some cookies,” She suggested, a hint of mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she grinned at you.
You put your palm on Emily’s chest, right above her heart, feeling it beat hard and fast. 
She’s alive. 
She’s here.
“That would be nice.”
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