#is this the 'drip' them youngins talk about?

[sukunasstomachtongue]

Boss: Prelude

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Tiny (black fem OC); Rod Reiss x Tiny

Rating: R | Minors DNI

Warnings: infidelity, cursing, sexual conversation

Part 1: Boss

Tiny began to hate her marriage after the first ten days.

She had low expectations walking into the marriage, as most young women do when they are arranged to marry men over twice their age for nothing but the financial gain of a coldhearted father. She was a pawn on a chessboard for a game that has been going on for longer than she’d been alive. 

Whatever business her father and Rod Reiss had with one another had nothing to do with her personally, yet the rivalry influenced every sector of her life. Where she attended school, what she wore, how big her celebrations were, the type of car she had to drive, all decisions made by her father to one-up Rod Reiss. 

The only good thing that came from the affluent version of a pissing contest was the strong bond she had with Historia, Rod Reiss’s youngest child, and Tiny’s oldest friend. Pre and post-wedding their friendship never wavered, both knowing the best way through this mess was bare it until the right moment came to make a run for it. The pair were so close to securing their independence when the marriage agreement slapped them in the face.

Then she met Levi.

Ask any of the men in her life, and they would all call him a lowly thing, only good for menial physical labor that their overfed and spoiled asses couldn’t dream of doing. But Tiny knew differently. She could see it in the way he accomplished any task asked of him with a gleam in his eye that could make the devil scream. 

Suddenly her days in the Reiss Manor became bearable, armed with the knowledge that wherever she walked, Levi would be somewhere on the property with her, minding his business and completing his tasks. Tiny found her brain stalled several times a day after catching just a glimpse of his short yet powerful stature. 

He worked with a small crew, a group of ten a most, all meandering the lot to accomplish individual tasks. The one time she saw them all together was during their lunch break, under the shade of a large oak tree. Eating their fill, the group would smoke and joke around, pushing each other and letting loose curses that they kept suppressed while working. Levi didn’t talk much, but when he did the rest of his crew would shut up to listen. 

They didn’t talk about the Reiss’s all that much, or any rich folk for that matter. A throwaway remark here or there while telling a story, no names dropped but everyone seemed to understand who exactly was being discussed. Tiny was quick to catch on to the alias for Rod.

Boss. 

Not particularly creative in the slightest except for how they all enunciated the ‘b’ in the word.  Levi didn’t speak about Rod much, he left that for the youngins in his crew. He’d smoked his cigarette and let out a laugh or two as they cursed her husband for whatever grief he gave them. 

The only person outside the crew Levi would talk about was her. It took Tiny a minute to figure out who they were referring to when they said that name. 

Princess. 

Tiny thought they were referring to Historia or the other Reiss women that frequented the manor, but the crew called them different variations of ‘miss’. She was princess, the way she found out was the day she went for a swim in the pool during the same time Connie had finished cleaning it out. 

Later while getting the mail, she heard it.

“Saw princess today jump in the water, almost nutted in my shorts.”

“Lucky. Did you see her come out of it? I’d kill to see her dripping water.”

 “I saw her get dressed one time in front of the window. Boss must not be fucking her because she didn’t have a mark on her.”

“You ever seen her in the gym? Way too much for Boss, no way he’s keeping up with her.”

The group continued to discuss her, unaware of her proximity. Talking over one another, only shutting up when Levi opened his mouth to share his opinion. 

“If I had her, she wouldn’t be able to leave the bed and walk around the house like she does.”

She took that statement and ran to the bank with it. Immediately called Historia and put a plan in motion. She started small. 

Small, not subtle. 

First, she had to bend the world to her will. It only took a couple of statements at the right time. 

“Who cleaned the pool this time?”

“Levi, Mrs. Reiss.”

“Can you make sure he does it from now on, I’ve never seen it so clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Reiss.”

“Thank you, Erwin. Please pass on my compliments.”

“Princess wants you to clean the pool from now on, Levi. Said it was the cleanest she ever saw it.”

“Course it is, I did it.” 

“Maybe you keep that up and she’ll have you cleaning something else?”

Step one, complete. 

Step two was to build a repertoire.  Every three days, Levi would come to the pool to clean it. The first few times, she waved and gave a cheeky smile which he responded with a cool nod, acknowledging her as his Boss’s wife and nothing more. Tiny did her best to leave an impression, wearing the skimpiest thong bikinis in her arsenal. Taking the extra minute to exaggerate her exit from the pool, making sure her near nip slips were always in his eyesight.  

Then she stepped it up with a pot of tea to share as the late fall heat finally cooled down to early winter temperature. As the outdoor pool went into hiding under the pool cover, the indoor pool became in more need of upkeep. Like clockwork, every week Levi would make the journey into the house to clean the indoor pool, unknowingly fueling Tiny’s fantasy as his upper body worked to clean the filters and maintain the water’s clearness. 

“I don’t know if Erwin told you, but I just want to thank you for keeping the pool so clean. I heard you had a taste for tea, so I decided to make you a pot to thank you.”

Levi paused on his way out of the room, face blank as he took in the words. The smell of properly brewed earl grey filled his nostrils, his shoulders sagged as they released tension. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Reiss.”

“Please, Mrs. Reiss was my predecessor. Call my Tiny.” She waited until he had a mouthful of tea to continue. “Or princess. “

Levi didn’t choke or spit out his tea, the quirk of his eyebrow was enough of a reaction to tell Tiny he knew she knew what the crew had been talking about during their lunches. 

“Princess, huh? Are you sure you want me to call you that? Someone might get the wrong idea if they heard that." 

“Or the right one.”

“Which would be?”

“That we’re fucking, Levi.”

“We aren’t.”

“That could change. If you want.”

[menacingfag]

[truglori]

Sneaky Link 🔗

Synopsis: Black Reader and Eric find each other online!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black Reader

Warning: Language, Smutt, Raw sex

Flopping on the bed Y/N found herself bored for the fourth Friday night in a row. This was supposed to be the season of hook ups and living her best carefree lifestyle that she had planned out but yet is was the exact opposite. Being on summer break from college Y/N had to come back home with the schools being closed. It was something she dreaded.

Home for her wasn’t the best place to be. Between her judgmental and nagging parents and older brother, Chris, Y/N was ecstatic when she discovered that she would be going to a school that was over three hundred miles away. Being four hours away gave her enough freedom knowing that she didn’t have any one breathing down her neck or snitching to her parents about whatever she did. With it only being her sophomore year Y/N loved the college lifestyle.

Getting up she went to her window to open it and put in her square fan. Her air conditioner that she always kept in her room was now being used by her brother so she had to settle for this. Turning the knob she felt the warm cool breeze coming through and taking up the room. Walking back to her bed she logged into her laptop going onto the web browser. Clicking the history she found the website she was searching for and tapped it.

Quick Link popped up on her screen. It was a site that allowed people to meet and chat with other people. Even though Y/N has been going on it for weeks now back and forth, she never met one person that she has chatted with yet. She was okay with talking to them online and even over the phone but the thought of seeing them in person scared her. With all of the Lifetime movies and ID channel she would watch, doing something as small as meeting up with them could be dangerous.

Y/N scrolled through her recent messages. She had over ninety-nine notifications. She knew that she wasn’t going to reply to them all, only the once she found cute. It was like a broken record being played. They all inbox her with the same messages, hey sexy! Y/N rolled eyes at the un-originality. To her it seem like the guys didn’t even try to put in any effort.

Tapping on the keyboard she began to text back the handful that she found attractive when she got two notifications. Hurrying up her sentence she exited out of the chat and clicking on her new direct messages.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Y/N, what in the hell is yo ass doing on this shit...10:35pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- And I know you still online. I can see the green bubble by ya picture...10:36pm

Y/N squinted at the name. Who the hell was this texting her like they knew her? The question alone made her stomach flutter at the idea of getting caught on a dating site by someone she knew or knew her. Clearly this person recognized her enough to boldly message her. Clicking on their username she went to their page. Her heart stopped and thighs clenched at the same time.

It was Erik fucking Stevens aka her brother’s childhood best friend. Chris and Erik were the same age and only three years older than Y/N. Growing up Y/N stayed crushing on Erik. It was his braids that he rocked back in the day that had her drooling over him but also how nice he was to her. Y/N remembered the time when she was a freshman in high school and Chris and Erik were both Juniors she would always get a ride with them every morning in his 2005 Honda Accord. He would steal glances at her through his rear view mirror that only she would catch but to afraid to ask him about it.

There would be times that she would find underwear from a girl tucked under the backseat. Y/N heard about the rumored that went around the school that Erik was a player. An experienced one at that. He was grown before his time and with the way the lucky girls who had a chance to sleep with him describe it, he gave dick like he was a grown man as well.

Hearing that did nothing but spark the flame that she felt about him. She wanted to experience it herself. But being the quiet and timid person she was then, she never did. It wasn’t until Y/N went to college where she lost her virginity her freshman and started having sex on the regular with her ex who was also her first. From the first few times they did it, she could never cum from penetration. Y/N thought it was normal and that every girl dealt with it until she shared a few stories with her friends and they would tell her about the way their guys would make them squirt.

Squirting was something Y/N always wanted to do but could never achieve with her guy. She loved feeling him inside of her stretching her open but he was a quick pumper. He came too fast for her and couldn’t last long enough to get her to nut. So after every session she would take her bullet and tortured her clit until she felt her cream escaping her hole. Not having sex since the last time she was at school had Y/N body extremely horny and hot and ready like a little ceasars pizza.

Clicking through his pictures had her clenching her thighs. After he graduated high school, the graduation was the last place she seen Erik. She wasn’t even sure if Chris and him were still close friends. But what she could say is that he grew up very nice. He now had dreads that hung over his eyes with a clean shape up to top it off. His teeth pearly and white accompanied by gold canines he was wearing in every other picture and last but not least his body was everything. Standing at 6’3 and looking like a solid 215 from her view Erik was fine as fuck.

Giggling and embarrassed with herself she replied back.

BlackBeauty- Erik omg...this is so embarrassing. How did you find me?...10:40pm

Biting the nail on her thumb she waited for him to answer her. To her surprise he wrote back fairly faster than what she expected.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Noticed yo little ass on the explore page. I know you not on here meeting with these wack ass niggas...10:42pm

She laughed re-reading his message. To her it sound like it was possessive but she didn’t want to over think it.

BlackBeauty- Never!! I am not stupid. I haven’t met one person yet...10:44pm

Hitting the send button she rolled her eyes noticing herself getting desperate from his attention.

HandsomeAssNigga👅-Okay bet! I don’t wanna have to fuck you up youngin 😈...10:47pm

Biting her lip, she stared down the emoji. She wondered what that meant. She wondered in what way did he meant when he said he would fuck her up. At this point Y/N was dripping between her thick thighs.

BlackBeauty- What about you? I know you out here fucking these bitches you meet on here. Don’t lie lol...10:49pm

Y/N didn’t want to seem nosy, she was just trying to make conversation.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Damn you cuss now? And second of all don’t be worried about what I do with my dick. I’m grown and that’s different...10:51pm

Bringing a hand down to her covered pussy Y/N caressed it. The warmth coming through her panties and cotton shorts. She didn’t know what it was but the way he was responding had her feeling a type of way. She wasn’t the shy young girl anymore he used to know and she wanted to make that clear.

BlackBeauty- I’m grown too Erik 💦...10:53pm

Her heart beat sped up when she sent the text not knowing how he was going to respond.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- To who? I know ya young ass ain’t out here fuckin yet. You was too shy for that last time I saw you. Even if you was, I know you ain’t getting know real dick...10:55pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- What’s that emoji supposed to represent? Ya pussy or sum shit? Let me find out Y/N 👿...10:56pm

There goes that little devil that had her questioning herself again.

BlackBeauty- I get dick on the regular. Good dick! And yes Erik that emoji reps my pussy. Same young pussy that’ll be too wet for you to handle! I’ll have you drownin in my shit...10:59pm

Y/N could always talk a good game online. It was where she could be get as nasty as she wanted without actually putting in work. The guys who would hit her up loved her foreplay that she had spit over the internet and she was fortunate enough where they never pressed her to meet in person.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Bring that pussy here and I’ma show you if I’ll drown in it. Stop fucking playing with me Y/N if you not gonna pull up. I don’t do this back and forth teasing shit. You tryna do a Sneaky Link or what?...11:02pm

Checking the hall Y/N seen that the lights were off. Her parents were most likely sleeping and Chris always worked Friday nights. This was the perfect time and opportunity to leave. She would have to sneak the keys from the key holder and use her dad’s car to get to his place. Y/N didn’t do this on the regular but because it was Erik she was curious. She wanted to see for herself if all of the rumors were true. Y/N was going to fuck him tonight.

BlackBeauty- Send me the addy..I’m on my way...11:04pm

________

After showering and preparing for her dick appointment Y/N successfully snuck out of the house. She put his address in her GPS. It was a twenty minute drive to get to his apartment. Putting the car in park and turning it off, Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach grow while walking into the building. Taking her phone out she went to his message and looking up the apartment number he gave her. Apartment 3B.

Knocking on the door. She held her hands together tightly. She was beyond nervous and rethinking her decision as her heart kept thumping. She couldn’t believe that she was really going to go through this. After so many years of fantasizing about him in her room she was finally going to see the real thing. Y/N only wondered if it was as good as she hoped.

The door swung open showing Erik sipping on a glass of dark liquor. In nothing but a tight wife beater that clung to his chest and his sweats that hung low Y/N could see the print poking through so visibly. It looked like he was free balling it.

“Damn ma. You wasn’t lying about getting grown. You look good as shit.” Erik sipped from his glass. He stepped aside inviting her in.

Y/N smiled softly going inside. She only took a few steps in and stood to the side waiting for him. She heard the door lock behind her as it caused her to gulp hard on her spit.

Erik eyed her with his low eyes. He chuckled seeing that she was clearly nervous.

“So that’s ya thing?” His voice was low and deeper than what she remembered.

“What’s my thing?” Her soft voice speaking up.

“Talking shit online but quiet it person.” He stated putting her on the spot.

Y/N smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned facing his livingroom.

“Nah ain’t no whatever. What’s good ma? Where that big girl energy go?” He walked up behind her pressing his body into hers. The hand that wasn’t holding his cup wrapped around her waist gripping the small pudge on her stomach.

Y/N shivered when she felt his dick on her ass. Her assumption was right. He wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his sweats. She could feel the coldness of his chains on her shoulder when he leaned on her due to her only wearing a tank top. She grabbed his hand, not pushing him away but holding on to him.

“I’m here aren’t I?” She gazed at him over her shoulder.

He smirked at her smart remark. “You need anything before we start? A drink, blunt, something to help you calm ya scary ass down.” He teased.

She pushed his hand from around her waist and folded her arms. “I’m not scary Erik. If I was I wouldn’t be here.”

“Then why you barely saying shit?” He licked his lips.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s just been a while since I saw you. You look...different.” Playing with her diamond earning, she occupied her fingers.

“I may look different but I’m still the same Erik that used to jack ya brother up every time he fucked with you when no one was looking. Ain’t shit changed about me ma so you can relax. I’m tryna take care of you tonight.” He spoke stepping closer.

They were now face to face. Y/N’s frame staring up into his 6’3 one. When she would inhale she could smell his expensive cologne mix with the Hennessy he’s been sipping on since she got here.

“Okay.” She answered with a bite of her bottom lip.

Erik groaned at the action. Both of his hands behind his back now, he bent down to her level to meet her halfway. “C’mere.” He demanded a kiss with messy dreads hanging over his eyes.

Meeting him where he was, Y/N listened giving him one. The taste of the dark liquor transferring over to her taste buds from his tongue invading her mouth. The warmth of it made her melt under him and causing her head to lean back. She was already growing weak just from the kiss.

Erik reached behind her slapping her ass and gripping it with his free hand. “Fuck you doing all that for and I ain’t even do shit yet.” He spoke against her lips peaking through his eyelids.

“Hurry up then daddyy.” Y/N whined.

“That’s my name for the night? I like that shit.” He walked them backwards until they reached his room which wasn’t far away from the front.

Placing his glass down on his dresser he lifted her up by her thighs, picking her up. Y/N squealed from the unexpected action. She held onto his neck hoping he wouldn’t drop her. Erik chuckled playing with her ass cheeks before laying her down on the bed gently.

“You sucked dick before...miss grown?” Bringing his hand down, he massaged his print through his sweats.

Leaning up on the palm of her hands, Y/N nodded answering yes. She did it plenty of times with her ex, who she could make cum quickly off of head alone but the way Erik was grabbing his tool made her think differently.

“So what’s up then? Come show me what that mouth do?”

Kicking off her sandals Y/N got off the bed. His eyes stayed glued to her. Getting on her knees in front of him she tugged the sides of the grey sweats and pulled them down to his mid thigh. His dick sprung out almost hitting her in the face had she been centimeters closer.

Long and thick was what it was. A beautiful smooth brown texture covered his heavy package. Y/N felt her mouth watered thinking about how her cream and juices would look being all over it. This man was truly blessed and so far proving the rumors to be true.

Erik twisted his hips side to side wagging it in front of her. He lifted the wife beater up and tucked it under his chin so that he can get a good view.

Grabbing the base of his length Y/N eyed it. She was trying to figure out ways to be able to swallow this monster without choking. Sticking her tongue out she tapped his tip against it. A string from her saliva on her tongue being attached to his head every time they separated. With her prior experience and watching porn she grew to have her own technique.

Y/N allowed the spit to build up in her mouth when she sucked on his tip. No nigga likes dry head and she wasn’t going to start giving it today. She wanted it to be extra sloppy for Erik. Tightening her jaws she went up and down on his dick. Taking only about four inches of him and using her spit to stroke the rest of him. With just the little bit of his length she was able to take she could already feel him reaching her back.

“Fuck that throat feel good. Shitt!” Erik groaned gripping her tight kinky curls and putting them into a ponytail. He tilted his head watching her go stupid on his dick. He sucked in his lower lip when she began to swivel her head around.

Long drips of spit went falling down on her black tank top. Erik’s eyebrows scrunched up the moment he felt her take his balls in her mouth and suck on them lightly while stroking his tip. His stomach started to tighten and his toes dug into his carpet. This girl was trying to take his soul the way she sucking him up.

“Man whatchu doing Y/N?” Erik asked amazed, closing his eyes for a second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had head this good.

“I’m showing you that I’m grown daddy.” She answered coming up.

Now both of her hands were focused on playing with his balls while she sucked his tip and some of the few inches she was able to reach. Her eyes stared into his not stopping at all. She had him right where she wanted him. She could tell from the way his breathing sped up that he was getting weak and ready to bust a nut. Y/N tightened her suction to make it happen when she felt him pull her off by her hair.

Erik took one hand gripping her spit covered chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “Fuck is you doing sucking my dick like that ma? You tryna make me hold you hostage for the whole night?” He asked seriously.

Y/N giggled. “I just wanna make you cum Daddy.” She reached for his tip and gripped it making him jerk forward.

Erik smacked his lips annoyed that she had him feeling like sensitive. “Chill with that. Let me fuck you first before you suck this nut out.”

Helping her up and placing her back on the bed Erik slide off her biker shorts tossing them somewhere. Underneath them she had on some cotton hipster panties with little rainbows spreaded everywhere. Erik laughed when he seen it.

“Why you wearing shit like this ma?” He teased stepping out of his pants and getting on the bed.

“Because it’s cute. Why you worried about what I’m wearing instead of taking them off?” Y/N mocked his question.

Erik smirked bringing his hand up to the piece of cloth and ripping them straight down the middle and threw them on the ground. A gasp left Y/N lips as she was shocked from him doing that. Slapping his forearm, her lips went into a pout becoming upset.

“Erik, I just brought those two weeks ago.” She smacked the hand that was rubbing her thigh.

“You said to take them off. My bad. That’s the way I usually do it.” He lifted her legs by the back of her thighs while he consoled her as a distraction.

Y/N was frustrated at the fact that he ripped her new panties but also that she wasn’t going to have any to wear back home after this link.

“I don’t care how you do it, you shouldn’t have- ohh shiitt!” Her rant was cut off with the sound of moans leaving her mouth.

Holding her legs by the back of her knees Y/N glanced down to see Erik flicking her clit. The tip of his tongue felt wet and firm, in a good way. She really started to feel it when he took one hand and spread her phat pussy lips. Now her clit was out in the open and more accessible. Erik’s eyes met hers through his dreads when his lips wrapped around her bud and began to suck.

“Mm fuck...daddyy!” The sensation had Y/N’s hips thrusting to meet his vacuum like suction. So powerful and wet.

“I want you to cum on this fuckin tongue!” His words were muffled by the lips of her pussy surrounding his but it was enough to reach her ears. Taking a hand he smacked her outer thigh making his demand clear.

Her warm and slick juices ran out of her opening. It was something about the way he commanded her to nut that made her wetter and willing. Y/N liked to be dominated. Lifting up the tank top and pulling it up to her chest she tweaked and flipped her nipples adding to the stimulation. For her the feeling of having her nipples played with while getting her pussy ate made her orgasm a hundred times better.

“Eat this fucking pussy b-babyy-“ She whimpered feeling a tear slide down the corner of her eye.

Even though he noticed it, Erik didn’t stop. The juices that he caught in his mouth made it hard. He loved a good tasting ass pussy. Y/N definitely had one. Moving his assault from her clit he put his tongue in her tight opening. He began to fuck her with it. Erik put his hands under her ass cheeks and got a good cuff before bringing her back and forth on his stiff tongue. With the way her legs were still in the air he could see Y/N toes curl the second he started the action. She began leaking so quickly. Erik chuckled inwardly when he felt her walls squeezing on him.

“Mhm.” He moaned teasing her.

Y/N was cumming from the second time just off of his mouth alone. She reached down to rub her clit while he stuck his tongue deep inside her. She ain’t never got head this good before back at college. Her thighs began to shake as she felt another mini orgasm hit. Her pussy growing sensitive and overstimulated.

Grabbing his dreads she lifted his head up. “Daddy you was eating my pussy so good. Fuckk!” She moaned with a quiver in her voice.

“Now I’m bout to beat this pussy up real good too. Turn around. I want that ass from the back.” Erik barked getting on his knees.

Swiftly taking off her tank top, Y/N turned around like he said and got on all fours. She felt a firm smack to her right ass cheek. Moaning she rocked back and forth and twerked each cheek individually. Y/N looked over her shoulder behind her seeing Erik watching her move it so effortlessly. His hands went up to her waist and pulled her closer to him. Now she could feel her mound rubbing against his bare hard rock hard stick.

“Doing all this ass shaking, you better not try to run from the dick. I don’t want none of that.” He gripped a cheek spreading it watching her pussy lips follow.

“I’m not gon run daddy..I promise.” She reassured him softly.

Erik gripped the base of his length. Smacking it against her her clit he played with it for a while to warm her up. When he heard her moaning and seen her backing up against him he knew she was ready. Erik sent a drip of spit on the tip of his dick and rubbed it over it with a free hand. He teasingly dipped in and out of her tight hole. Y/N pussy was tight as fuck and he knew he had to work his way in. Getting deeper and deeper with each inch her warm wet walls clung on to him.

“Ooh fuck!” Y/N eyes closed not expecting him to feel like this. Erik was stretching her pussy out. Her arms sprawled out in front of her gripping his sheets.

“Tight ass pussy you got. What happened to getting dick on the regular? Hmm?” Holding her down by the small of her back Erik made her arch deeper as he stroked her slick walls.

Y/N’s mouth couldn’t close or make a sound. From the position he had her in she couldn’t move or run if she wanted to. Pinned down and made to take it. Erik was dicking her down. His heavy fat dick busting her pussy open and touching her stomach. Fuck that. He was putting it in her chest. Y/N reached behind her to hold on to his wrist while he pounded her pussy with precision. Her face smashed into the bed. His dick was too good for her.

“Ooh baby... Daddy don’t fuck me like this!” She shouted not knowing what she was saying. Y/N didn’t want him to stop but she couldn’t handle the pressure he was putting on her bladder.

Erik didn’t have just a big dick that could stretch a pussy out. He knew how to fuck with it. When he stroked he didn’t use his whole body he worked his hips and that’s what drove bitches crazy about him. Erik would fuck like he was trying to make a baby.

“I thought you came here to get fucked?” He asked lifting off her. He bended one knee and balanced his weight on his foot pressing it into the bed. His hand wrapped around her throat as he caught a rhythm making her throw it back on him.

The sound of skin clapping filled the room. Y/N’s arch was now the deepest it’s ever been with Erik choking her from behind and making her head tilt up towards the ceiling. Cramping in her stomach let her know that she was about to break. She was finally about to cum from penetration alone. His curved tip would press on a spot she didn’t know she had there causing her legs to convulse. Her whimpers and moans only encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing. Which was tearing her pussy up.

“Shiitt!!” She cursed grabbing onto her titty to have something to hold on.

Erik bit his lip seeing her ass tremble from her orgasm and feeling her squeezing his dick with a vice grip. He slapped her left cheek before pulling out to flip her over on her back. Looking down at his meat it was covered in her creamy juices. His dick jumped at the sight.

“Good ass pussy.” He mumbled in a trance.

Using the weight of his hips he thrusted finding his way back inside of her. The warm wet tunnel closing in on him. Erik lifted up the wife beater that was still on in the mist, and brought it up under his chin tucking it to move it out of his way. His hands found the back of her thighs and pinned them against her chest. He began stroking and getting deeper from the angle.

Being trapped from his hold that he had on her, the only thing Y/N could do was bring her hands to his hips trying to interrupt his movements. Y/N didn’t like this feeling. He was going too deep. Deeper than what she was used to. Shaking her head from side to side she pushed at his hips that only kept going due to her weak and trembling arms not being able to produce enough strength.

“Move ya fuckin hands.” He demanded while keeping his steady stroke. Erik cussed under his breath hearing the smacking sounds coming from her hole that could be mistaken for a pot of mac and cheese being stirred. That’s how good Y/N pussy was.

Her tight walls gripped his dick. Erik looked between their bodies watch the beautiful art being made. Her pussy following him whenever he pulled out to the tip just to be sucked back in. Pussy as good and wet as hers always got him to bust hard. He was close. Leaning down to her neck he kissed and sucked her skin while having her pinned down taking his length. Erik felt her walls slick up and knew she was about to nut again.

“Let that shit go mama.” He whispered in her neck.

Y/N’s nails scratched against his back. Her eyes wailed up with tears feeling the pressure in her stomach building up. She lost count of how many times he had made her cum tonight but she knew she was grateful and only prayed that this wasn’t the last time she got dick this bomb.

“Unhh.” She couldn’t produce any words. Her toes curled as she gazed at the ceiling feeling her body shake.

“There you go.” He pecked her neck.

Erik talked her through her nut while he continued to chase his. It wasn’t long before he felt his dick throb and grow inside of her. Pulling out he climbed on top of her holding his body up with one hand pressed into the bed as he stroked his dick with the other. Y/N opened her mouth and sucked his tip. She could feel his seed spilling on her tongue and traveling down her throat. She wasn’t usually a swallower but the way he had just fucked her he deserved to have his dick milked.

“Ahh shit!” Erik cursed caressing her jaw as he watched her suck him dry. She was cleaning both her juices and his nut off of his dick.

A popping sound escaped her mouth when she released him. Y/N’s body couldn’t move as she laid back staring at him with disbelief. Erik caught her face expression.

“What?” He asked standing on the side of the bed.

“Nothing. It’s just the rumors that I heard about you were all true. You do give some good dick.” Turning to lay on her side Y/N smiled.

Erik laughed. “Yeah well I could say the same about you.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Little birdy that goes to your college told me about how good ya pussy was. Had to find out for myself.” He smirked at her.

“Erik what are you talking about?” Y/N sat up.

“I’m talking about your ex that you fuck from time to time is my second cousin. Nigga couldn’t stop running his mouth about you. Small world ain’t it?”

He paused watching the confusion clouding over her face. “Besides why else you think I had hit you up tonight? It damn sure wasn’t to reminisce over the past.”

Taking off the wife beater, Erik leaned down to kiss her lips before walking away.

______________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaanime @bellanay @skylahb @toni9 @iambabyharry @kiabialia @youlovetkay @lahuttor @kehlaniswifee @childishgambinaax @readingaddict1290 @sociallyawkward18 @iamching07 @sourbabynaee @unholyxcumbucket @ladymac82 @efonteno @xsweetdellzx @shalynn-m @joanna-doe @beautifullmelodyxx @browngirldominion @rbhp @richonne4life

[13uswntimagines]

Your Ass Is Out of This World (Kelley x Reader)

Request: alex or kelley or sonnett x reader where they've been dating for a few years R is an astronaut for NASA and she gets to go to space

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her, none of this would have happened. 

Kelley wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up standing next to a dive bar sipping a lukewarm beer on a Friday night. In her defense, Ali and Ashlyn had convinced her it would be fun and had promised to pay for the Uber rides both ways. It had been fun for a while, dancing with them to some old 70s songs on the light-up dance floor, but half an hour ago they had disappeared off into a hallway somewhere, and she had no intention of third-wheeling (she knew she should have convinced Alex to join them). But she also wasn’t going to leave without them, because she wasn’t convinced either of them were sober enough to take any kind of transportation safely (someone needed to be there to make sure they didn’t puke in someone’s car).

So here she was, standing by the bar waiting for her friends’ sexcapades to be over, nursing her drink. The clink of a glass settling in front of her caught her attention. She blinked at the bartender. “I didn’t order another one,” 

The man’s lips ticked up and he shrugged. “Lady on the end paid for it. Said you looked sad,” 

Kelley looked up, following the man’s eyes towards a woman standing a few seats down the bar from her. She was also standing alone but was dressed as though for a different event altogether. Kelley had embraced the 70s theme of the bar slightly, wearing a jumpsuit and a scarf around her head, but this woman had just thrown a white NASA shirt--like the one Kelley got for her little cousin at Target-- over a pair of black jeans. As she bobbed her head to the music she met Kelley’s eyes and smiled. 

Kelley took that as her invitation to approach. Kelley’s eyes traced her form, lingering on the white material. She didn’t know those came in adult sizes...

“You must be a star, I can't stop orbiting around you” Kelley smiled charmingly as she approached you, setting her beer on the bar beside you and settling in the seat to the left of yours. 

“I do believe I was the one to buy you the drink…” you said, your lips twitching as you tried to keep a serious expression. “Shouldn’t I be the one throwing pickup lines here?”

“You bought me the drink, so I get to be the one to woo you. I’m Kelley, are you from Mars? 'cuz I wanna explore you with curiosity.” Kelley said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, enjoying the light blush coloring your cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “that was terrible. I mean really good but absolutely awful.”

“At least I got you to smile, but you still haven’t told me your name.” Kelley laughed, taking a sip of her beer. She was prepared to lay on the horrible pick up lines for your entertainment. 

“I’m Y/n,” you said, putting down your drink and holding out your hand, “pleasure.”

“They call me the milky way...Pleasure You Can't Measure,” Kelley smiled, shaking your hand as you laughed and pulling you a little closer “Why look at the moon, if I can’t touch it? Why look at your lips, if I can't kiss them,” she said, winking so you knew she was completely joking. 

“How do you know so many of these?” You said, shaking your head in awe. “ All I know off the top of my head is ‘do you work for NASA? Because you’re out of this world!’”

“Ah, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Kelley whispered conspiratoryly, bringing her hand up to cover her lips. “but my team and I have definitely had flirt offs for bonding nights,” 

“Your team?” 

“Yeah, I play soccer for the US and Washington,” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge accomplishment. 

Your eyes widened and you nearly spat out your drink. “Didn’t they, like, just win a World Cup?” 

“Yeah, No biggie,” Kelley said, side-eyeing you as she took another sip. 

“No biggie?  I’m surprised you don’t have a swarm of paparazzi shadowing you, that’s incredible! Weren’t the USWNT like the most successful US team in soccer?’

“Hm, there’s not enough drama for them, but we don’t mind. How about you? What do you do beautiful?” Kelley hummed. 

“Oh. I work for NASA,” you said, gesturing at the shirt. “I can’t wait to bring some of those lines back to work.”

“What??” 

****

“So do they at least give you a good choice of flavors? So you don’t get bored and stuff?” Emily asked from across the table, licking her dripping I cream cone. 

When your girlfriend decided to introduce you to the team after their match against Colombia, you were quite surprised she had chosen an ice cream shop as a venue. But with how food motivated the youngins seemed, you realized how appropriate it was. 

“I mean,” you said, your spoon suspended in the air as you blinked at Emily, “ice cream isn’t the only thing we will eat. I’m going to be on the station for like 8 months. Ice cream is not a balanced diet.”

“But it’s the only one they sell in the stores. You don’t have to lie cause the veggie lovers are here,” The defender said, leaning across the table, as though it would prevent the rest of the table from hearing her. 

“Babe, you literally love most veggies too,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, using her thumb to wipe a spot of chocolate ice cream from Emily’s nose. 

“Actually, I heard they’re a pretty good selection of dehydrated fruits and veggies and MRE’s and Tortillas and stuff. Plus I get to take a few things from home…” You mumbled, leaning back. 

She couldn’t be serious right? There was no way she thought you were supposed to sustain yourself on horrible freeze-dried dairy products for that long. Not to mention, freeze-dried ‘astronaut’ products for the most part weren’t actually possible to bring to space, with how crumbly they are. You were more likely to eat actual ice cream on the space station (less chance for an errant crumb being inhaled or destroying an important piece of equipment) than that gift shop garbage. 

“Oh yeah, MRE sounds way more likely than just eating the stuff they literally label as being for astronauts…” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “What does that even stand for? ‘Must reject Emily?”

You opened your mouth to answer, eyebrows furrowed, only for Kelley to nudge you softly. 

“It’s not worth the fight babe, trust me. Not the brightest lighthouse if you know what I mean,” Your girlfriend made a swirling motion with her finger next to her temple. 

You leaned in closer so your lips were nearly touching her ear. “She’s not serious right?” 

“I never joke about ice cream,” Emily answered seriously. 

You blinked at her, looking to your girlfriend who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows. 

“I’m, I’m not sure if they have a flavor rotation system for ice cream flavors. We haven’t been… briefed on that yet,” you nodded seriously. 

…...

“Can you hear me?” Kelley said, tapping her fingers impatiently as your face appeared in the video call. 

“He- -utiful,” You smiled through the glitchy computer screen. Your waving was broken up like a bad claymation. You leaned in to make out the fuzzy figures standing behind your girlfriend, assuming she was at camp or something. 

Normal long distance sucked, but literally being off-planet really made things difficult. It wasn’t like Kelley could just text you when she missed you, or randomly call you when she missed you at 3 am. Sure, she could email and you made a tremendous effort to schedule calls once a month, but it was still incredibly difficult (and slightly weird that a NASA tech dude had to monitor each call to make sure the connection stayed up). And sometimes even the best video-calling technology had issues. Like today (when a giant satellite or piece of space trash would block the signal). 

“Are you hav- -un at -amp?” You asked, grabbing your floating water pouch pushing out a sip sized water drop. 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Kelley said, watching you munch on your water. When you first got on the station you sent her pictures of artwork you made out of different drops of colored water- specifically making a giant water ‘soccer ball’ for her. Then you tried to boop it around and ended up losing control, amusing all your crewmates who watched you trying not to run into too many walls. “We’re looking forward to playing against Brazil on Friday, should be brutal.” 

“We’re set to be ov- Florida on -day, so I’ll try and tune into the ga-. Catch a nice - view,” You nodded, wiggling your eyebrows (which looked more like you having a seizure due to how badly you were pixelated). 

While Kelley wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying, she went ahead and nodded. “Let me know what you think!”

“Wh- color -it are you w-ing? Y- look -uper s-xy in the -ue,” you said, floating up in a ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose. 

“You’re favorite one,” Kelley said, winking at you. 

“-es!!” You cheered “-ake p-ture -or -“ the screen flickered dangerously for a second. Before a wobbly picture returned. 

“Babe you’re breaking up, I can’t tell what you’re saying. Y/n. Are you there? UGh. I love you! We’ll talk soon.”

“-ove y- -oo” 

Kelley blew a slow kiss to her camera before she heard a deep voice saying “Sorry ma’am. The connection was lost. Y’all still have five minutes on your scheduled call- Want me to try calling again? See if the signal improves?”

“Yeah,” Kelley shifted, rubbing the bridge of her nose as typing sounds echoed through the speaker. How she was going to make it through four more months of this she had no idea. 

“What if like the ship was attacked by aliens or something,” Sonnett whispered from her left, staring at the blank screen with real trepidation. 

“Not possible ma’am,” she heard him laugh. “But I doubt I would have the right level of security clearance to know.”

“great.”

Kelley grabbed a pen and marked a day off the calendar hanging on her wall. So much for ‘phone call with Y/n.’ She sighed. Just a few months to go. 

****

Gravity fucking sucked. It was disorienting and heavy and made you sick to your stomach. Space station alums always talked about re-entry and how bad that was, but you thought sitting in a NASA hospital bed while your equilibrium readjusted was way worse than your fireball craft plummeting into the ocean. 

“This fucking sucks,” You groaned, again throwing your hand over to pull out the IV. You hated how hard it was to move (and how you actually had to hold up a cup of water to get a drink but that was beside the point). 

“Whoa babe, I know you’re a little out of it right now, but that has to stay in. Just try and relax for a little while,” Kelley said, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles. 

You frowned at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t wanna be here. Wanna be home with you.” 

“I know, but you gotta stay here until the re-entry symptoms have worn off a little more,” She said again. She knew that you weren’t going to be 100% when you stepped out of the spacecraft, but she hadn’t expected you to be so out of it. You were sick to your stomach and entirely unable to walk without assistance. 

The doctors assured her that you would be fine (residual effects from not being in gravity for so long and the impact of the landing or whatever), but it was still difficult to watch. It didn’t help that you were a horrendous patient. 

“Just watch the game. The US is even in Blue,” Kelley tried to coax. Even she was beginning to grow restless. But you couldn’t leave until you could keep down solid foods. 

“I don’t want to watch. You’re not in it,” You said, grabbing the remote from her and turning the television off. Then you tried to set the remote in the air, but instead of hovering like it should have done, it dropped to the ground. 

“Alright, commander Y/l/n. It’s dinner time,” one of the NASA hospital nurses said, bringing in a tray for you. Kelley thanked them as they left since you were too dazed to think of it.  

“God this food sucks, I hate jello ” you grumbled, lifting the spoon in front of your face (fully expecting it to float so you could take your bite) and dropping it as you want to open the pudding packet instead. “I just want a big juicy cheeseburger. With bacon and onions and-“ You trailed off, your mouth watering at the thought. You hadn’t had proper food in 8 months, and it had been your major cravings food. 

“A side of diabetes” she scoffed, picking up the discarded remote and spoon, “And are you going to keep dropping things everywhere?” She asked, carefully filling a spoon with chocolate pudding and guiding it to your mouth. 

“Fuck Newton. Things are supposed to float,” 

****

You loved the soft skin behind Kelley’s ear. It was so smooth, and it always smelt like a mix of her perfume, shampoo, and something inherently Kelley. It was a bonus that your exploration of the area always sent a shiver down her spine. You ran your nose along the skin there, nibbling on her ear before moving down her neck. Leaving little kisses along your path. Kelley sighed, sleepily scratching your scalp and tilting her head to the side to encourage you to continue. 

“You,” Kelley said. “ I like you.”

“Hm, I’m glad. It would be kinda scary if you were doing this with someone you didn’t like,” you mumbled against her skin, unwilling to part with it for even a moment. Kelley giggled at the tickling sensation. How you still had so much energy after you had thoroughly worn her out getting… reacquainted she would never know.

 “But what do you like most. Tell me, babe,” You said, moving your lips a little lower, towards where her shoulder and neck met. 

“I love… your ass. It’s out of this world.” She said sleepily, reaching around to grab her favorite asset of yours. 

“Well, it has been,” You laughed, pulling away reluctantly so you could look her in the eyes. 

“Shut up you goof,” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and whacking you lightly. You fell over dramatically, pulling her so she was on top of you. 

“Hm, I’m your goof,” 

“Yeah. You are. And babe?” She smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Hmm?” You hummed against her lips. She leaned back to look you in the eyes, one forearm across your chest and her other hand beside your head supporting her. 

“No more space travel for a while?” 

 “Pinky promise,” You said, wiggling your hand so your littlest finger connected with hers. 

“Good. I can’t believe I was dating someone from TEXAS for a while.” Kelley pretended to shudder. “Jus think, one of your coworkers might have been a Houston dash supporter!”

[mxpseudonym]

Hungry For It

Pairing: Alfie x Reader

Gender Expression: Gender Neutral!

Summary: You finally coax Alfie into letting you please him like this, and you’re not going to let him hold back.

Length: 1342 words (allegedly)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, cursing, dirty talk, deep throating/fallatio, “daddy” is used thrice, but this isn’t really a daddy kink situation... exactly

A/N: I’m so happy I could make this gender neutral so we all can be sluts for Alfie Solomons... together 🥺

--

"Breathe, darling." 

Fuck, you always forgot that part. You took a shaky half breath through your nose as he pulled you off. You looked up at Alfie with dark eyes peaking through damp eyelashes. For someone who had to be coaxed into this, he was doing quite well at ordering you about.  

You leaned back in for more, but Alfie held you with a firm first on your hair.  

"Ah, ah, treacle. Take a second, won't you? One of us has got to protect that pretty throat of yours, yeah?"  

Alfie nods to a glass of water off to the side then looks at the ceiling. He had to collect himself every now and again.

"Ain't a youngin' anymore, y/n," he said. 

Not that you minded. You were in your apartment, and yet Alfie dominated the space. He was big and brawny, and nothing, not even him sitting naked in your kitchen chair like this, made him any less intimidating. 

You took a sip from the glass while looking him over from your place on your knees between his legs. 

What a man. 

Alfie was a hairy, heavily tattooed man with muscles and a limp leftover from the war. He scared most people, your friends included. Yet, there wasn't a day you didn't want to be between his thick thighs one way or another. And that cock. Oh yes, it was what you were here for. It was thick and on the longer side. It made you drool just thinking about it. 

Alfie's experience and ability alone made you want to earn his one release. 

When Alfie let you, you swirled your tongue around his tip, taking a moment to appreciate the salty precum beading at the top. You took him in your mouth, bobbing a few times before taking it all. Your tongue laid against the underside of his shaft, opening yourself up to take more. You took a breath through your nose.  

Alfie rutted into your mouth.  

"Shit," he growled at the feeling. 

This was new to him too. He never wanted to hurt you. He'd rather have harm come to himself than have that happen. But you moaned so desperately around him just when he did something he thought was too far. 

Your mouth was hot around him, and the back of your throat massaging his head was bringing primal sounds out of the baker. You felt him get harder and twitch while he was inside of you. It made you feel good, accomplished, like working hard to please him was paying off. You wanted to stay down on him for at least a twenty count, and you were just about there.  

Alfie let you up again, and you felt determined. It took a few asks, serious talk about precautions, and a set of rules to even make Alfie comfortable enough to do this with you. This was your third "session," and he loved it too, but you wanted him to stop holding back. You knew that Alfie had it in him to be a little mean. Spit dripped down Alfie's balls as you gasped for air. You took him in your hand and started stroking him steadily.  

"Look at you, you're just a messy little harlot, ain't ya?" Alfie chuckled, his words still breathy. Desire shot straight to your lower belly at the filthy talk, and you loved it. That was something Alfie had picked up quickly. "Let's see it."  

You looked up at him as a sniveling mess. Your face was all hot, and tears stained your cheeks. Your lips were a bit swollen and puffy now too. Alfie almost came right then. His disbelief led to him laughing and shaking his head at you.

"Fuckin' hell, you're hungry for it, ain't ya?" He asked, grasping his cock at the base in his hand. You licked your lips, unable to take your eyes from it.  

"Yes, Sir," you said, amused at Alfie's smirk. You were still trying out names for him. Boss, captain, master- none had turned him on yet, but you'd find it. You always did. Alfie rubbed his head over your lips until you were whining in desperation. "Please let me have your cock, Alfie."

Alfie slowly wrapped his fingers around your chin in a firm grasp.  

"You got a filthy mouth," Alfie said, his voice lower now. You moaned, looking up at him. This was it. This was Alfie Solomons taking the lead. He brought two fingers from his other hand up and wet them in his mouth before bringing them to your lips. Your eyes widened a bit, but your mouth dropped open with no hesitation.  

Alfie Solomons slid his thick fingers over your tongue. You sucked on them, giving it your all even though he certainly knew what you were capable of. A moan left you when Alfie prodded even farther. He was force-feeding you his fingers, pushing in and out, prepping you for the real thing. His thick fingers pressed further into your mouth, making your eyes watered again. You groaned around his fingers, never breaking contact until he pulled out.  

"Filthy little whore indeed," he said. To your surprise, Alfie wiped his hand on your cheek, and you felt your arousal spike.  

"For you, daddy," you agreed. 

There it was.  

Alfie's eyes darkened at the word. Daddy. You supposed he was a caretaker, couldn't do a damn thing without his heart being in it.  

"All I want is your cock. Can you fuck my mouth, daddy?" You asked, spurring him more even through your sniveling. 

You opened your mouth with a moan, and Alfie took in a breath. If you weren't the most beautiful creature he'd seen, he wasn't sure he'd ever lay eye on whatever was better.  

You were on his cock again, and you made sure to let him know how much you wanted it. You hummed around him and moaned, earning grunts from your burly man. You swallowed him for your twenty counts but pulled back, only to take a full inhale before going back in.  

"That's it, darling. Take all of me, love," Alfie encouraged through clenched teeth. 

He watched himself disappear into your mouth again, only to be released slicker and wetter than before. Alfie was almost lost in a trance when you put your hand over the one he used to cup your head. You motioned that you wanted him to push your head down, to guide you. You wanted him to fuck your throat as well as you knew he could.  

"Fuck," Alfie all but shouted as he gave in. 

He pulled you off of him, and you were almost disappointed until you saw he was simply adjusting in the chair. Closer to the edge, he could effectively thrust into your throat while moving your head down onto him. 

You could hear the sloppy squelches and feel the saliva slipping down your neck. You gagged every now and then, which only encouraged Alfie. The caring man found himself letting go a bit. He trusted you just as much as you trusted him. If you needed the back away, you'd slap his thigh three times like you agreed. Until then, your jaw slacked, and your hands gripped his muscular thighs as he thoroughly fucked you. 

This was perfect. This was everything.  

Alfie's grunts got louder until he pulled you down entirely on his cock. Your nose squished against his pelvis, and he rutted into your throat deeper still, sending rope after rope of his come down your throat. You gave a loud guttural moan before he released you.  

You took audible, ragged gulps of air while grounding yourself. The exhilarating outcome of teasing Alfie had left you a bit lightheaded. You looked up at Alfie, though, and he only chuckled. He patted your head softly. 

"That what you wanted?" 

You only moaned and nodded. You felt a little used and overall happy. Alfie grabbed a cloth and cleaned your face then pushed you towards the bed.  

"Good, now let's see you strip, treacle. I want to taste ya."  

[writersmacchiato]

Ghostbusters | Gerard Pitts {Supernatural AU!}

Summary: Pitts is determined to figure out the mystery of Welton Academy, but a strange encounter at the library leads to more questions. Luckily, Pitts knows someone who can help.

Warnings: you and pitts get freaky in a cemetery...parking lot ;)

{Part One} {Part Two}

___

Now, that was a story for another time. . . 

Pitts scrolled through his laptop, looking through the library’s database before signing. He looked annoyed when he turns to you. 

“The library doesn’t have any articles uploaded to their website past 1970.” Pitts closed his laptop, picking up his keys, jangling them as he smiles. “So, I guess we’re doing this the old fashioned way.” 

. 

The library had an intimidating stature of a building that witnessed the lows and highs of Morin Harbor. It was old. The brick walls were long faded from their red hue, looking particularly dismal through the drizzle. A lone candle lit a window on the second floor, its access always blocked off to the public. 

Pitts is familiar with the library, evident in the way he weaves through the towering bookshelves and musty air. He stood at attention in one particular corner, the air feeling stale and sticky on your skin. You watch as his fingers skim the spines of the books, murmuring their names, before he smiles. He hands it to you. 

Morin Harbor Census 1957

“We’re looking for the mystery man that you saw. I did some research yesterday but I couldn’t find anything.” Pitts’ eyes are bright as he talks fast. “Which is extraordinary because Morin always has something on everyone. There was once a man who spent a single night to wait out a storm and twenty years after his stay, the locals could still identify a picture of him. Nothing ever leaves Morin.” 

“Should we go back? To the Russell family?” You ask, feeling the urge to read up on as much as you could. “I want to learn everything I can about them. What happened.” Why. . .

 “The library closes at nine, so we better get to work.” 

. .

You barely notice the light slipping over the horizon, shadows crawling over the crooks and nannies of Morin, engrossed in the reports of the Russell family. The constable in charge, Henry James, kept a surprising record of the case for that time period. He had interviews, handwritten notes, and photocopies of the crime scenes (that were omitted, but given written descriptions). 

What you found most interesting out of all of the information was an eyewitness account of someone who claimed to have seen James a week after the events took place. 

Charlotte Hanson, neighbor of the Russell’s. Eye witness. 

Mrs. Hanson: I saw that young boy, little James, in the woods.

Constable James: The woods outside your house?

Mrs. Hanson: Yes. He looked so happy, I heard him singing. That’s why I went outside. 

Constable: Because of the singing?

Mrs. Hanson: It was a church hymn all the youngin’s are taught. . .I saw James Russell and I waved at him, and I swear on God, he waved back at me, I heard him giggle.

The mention of James’ giggle has you pausing, thinking back to when you heard something similar in the woods. Looking at Pitts, his attention is entirely on the article in front of him, lips moving as he reads over the page. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Pitts barely responds, mumbling something that you take as affirmation. 

Besides you and Pitts, there is no one in the building except for the graying librarian at the front desk, gazing directly at you over her glasses. The weight of her eyes is heavy on your shoulders as you walk down the aisle toward the bathroom. Its door creaked loudly in protest, getting stuck in the frame before it jammed. Jiggling the handle, a harsh push, and the door still holds firmly shut. You turn to look at the librarian for assistance, but she's gone. 

"Excuse me?" 

Your voice is too loud, too harsh in the dead quiet library. The air is thick, closing down over your nose and filling your lungs. With a quiet 'hiss' the nearest lamp goes out, leaving you to squint through the sudden darkness. When you re adjust to the change in light, you see the glowing eyes of a young boy directly in front of you. His lips curl into a grin, unnaturally wide on his small face. 

"Come play with me." He whispers, giggling after. 

The blood in your veins turn cold, heart stopping at the familiar laugh. Without hesitation, you turn from the boy and run to where Pitts is. You hear the boy running after you, the small pitter-patter of his steps, giggle echoing off the walls. It's a dead end. Your heart is pounding. A hand wraps around your wrist and you let out a strangled cry, tugging away.

Pitts looks at you wide-eyed, looking past your shoulder. "What's wrong are you okay? Where did you go?"

"What?" You wheeze out, head racing as you struggle to slow your breathing. 

"You were gone for so long...I thought maybe you left, but then I heard you laughing--"

"That wasn't me." You grab on to his sleeve. "Gerard, we need to leave. Now."

. . .

"The same laugh?" Pitts questions from across you, looking equally delighted and horrified. 

"It was the same laugh, I'd recognize it anywhere."

Pitts falls into a silence, looking out the diner window. The fluorescent lights illuminate his face, shadowing his features in a way that makes him handsome in a way you hadn't noticed before.

"Did you get a good look at him?"

"Yeah. He was so close to me, I could have touched him."

Pitts opens his backpack, pulling out a thick folder. He pulls out a photograph, weathered around the edges. 

It's in black and white, a school photo of elementary kids. M. H. Elementary, 1918. Left to right: Crawford, Cindy; Stevens, Daniel; Russell, James. 

You look up at Pitts, shaking your head. Tapping the picture with a sigh. “That’s him.” 

“You saw him in the woods and in the library?” 

“I think I saw him in the woods. I don’t know for sure.” You said. “But I know that I heard his laugh and I heard it tonight.” 

“It’s like his spirit latched onto you.” Pitts muses. 

“Don’t say that!” 

Pitts shrugs, stirring his straw, watching the ice clink against the glass.

“Why me?” 

“I don’t know...maybe he wants something.” 

“What could he possibly want from me? It’s not like we’re related, my family didn’t move here until the sixties.” 

“Don’t yell at me, but—don’t make that face!” Pitts exclaims when you go to interrupt. “Maybe he wants to rest.” 

“What?” 

“His soul. He was murdered in 1924 and if he’s been haunting the woods all those years, he must be tired. He’s ready to move on.” Pitts said. 

“And be with his mom again.” You add, following his train of thought. 

“Exactly.” Pitts nods.

“But, how would he do that?” 

. . 

Madam Krisa, Psychic Medium

It was a small, brick building off the corner of main street. There was a small, glowing sign that read 'open' in front of velvet curtains. 

"Are you kidding me, Pitts?" You turn on your heel, arms crossed.

Pitts smiles sheepishly. "We need to communicate with James if we want to get him to cross over. Krisa is legit."

Despite the red flags that spring forward, you follow Pitts inside. You trust him and he hadn't been wrong yet. 

The door is barely latched on to the rusty door hinges, creaking loudly upon your entrance. Pitts calls out to Krisa, ringing a bell by the door, taking a seat at the round table in the corner. You follow Pitts slowly, keeping an eye on the front door. The air felt charged in here. 

It was a small front room, separated by a string of glimmering gold beads that led into a darker room. A door to the left was latched and locked shut. There were candles of every shape and size on any spare surface, wax dripping down their figures. It smelled smoky and stale, like Madam Krisa often lit up a cigarette. 

Pitts looks utterly relaxed, reclined back in the wooden chair. You wonder how often he comes here. 

There’s a faint whisper of fabric and then a small croon of a voice that alerts you to her presence. Madam Krisa is a swirl of fabrics and dangling jewelry, all clashing colors that somehow work together. 

“Gerard Pitts.” Her voice lowers, void of any indication of whether she’s pleased to see him. “You brought a friend.” She teases the word ‘friend’, drawling it out and letting out a laugh when Pitts squirms. 

“We need your help. I think a ghost has latched on to her.” Pitts jumps straight to the point after introducing you. 

“Always thinking, Gerard, so much thinking.”  Madam Krisa says. “So much meddling.”

“James Russell.” 

Krisa pauses, completely frozen, not blinking or breathing for a solid moment. She snaps back into focus, grasping the table, chest heaving. 

“You know better than to toss out names of the dead so carelessly, Gerard.” Krisa scolds. 

"Why that boy?"

"I don't know, but he's appeared to her twice."

Krisa almost looks concerned as she looks intently at you. "I'm not surprised. Your aura is very bright and welcoming."

"My aura?" You ask. 

"It's violet." Krisa said. "Connected to psychic power."

"I'm not psychic."

Krisa smiles. "Anyone has the ability to be psychic, but not everyone can draw the power from within themselves."

"So, a ghost attached to me because I could be psychic?"

"Perhaps. It could have latched on to the first soul it came across." Krisa takes a seat across from you and Pitts, settling her hands over the table. "Why don't we find out?"

The curtains were drawn shut, leaving the room in a dim light from the flickering candles. Pitts holds your hand gently, squeezing it once when you look at him, doubt evident. 

"James. . ." Krisa whispers. "James Russell. . .Are you there, little one?" 

The clock on the mantle ticks back and forth, 

. . .tick 

tok. . .

. . .tick

tock. . .

and then it stops. The air in the room goes still, a chill creeping down your spine.

Krisa inhales sharply, eyes closed. "Do you miss her?"

You look at Pitts and he just nods, his grip on your hand tightening. 

"She misses you, James. So much." Krisa said. "She wants to be with you again. It's okay to move on. She's waiting for you."

Krisa doesn't say anything more, moving her head back and forth, and then you hear it,

. . .tick

tock. . . 

. . .tick 

tock. . .

Krisa uncurls her hands, taking a deep breath as she looks to you. "He's moved on."

"That's it?" You said. "It's that easy?"

"Not every spirit is willing to move on, but most are. They just don't know how."

"The movies are so inaccurate." Pitts said. "Thank you, Krisa. Is there anything we can do to repay you?"

"Take this." Krisa moves to the cabinet filled with trinkets, pulling out a worn compass. "And put it in James Russell's grave."

. . 

Mist crawls over your shoes, trailing over the headstones and weeds. Fresh dirt and wet grass overwhelm your senses as you crouch down to where Pitts is digging a small hole in between two headstones.

| Maragret Russell | James Russell | Mary Russell |

Standing back after carefully patting over the freshly dug ground, you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Maybe when all of this is over, we could go see a movie?" Pitts speaks up, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"Are you seriously asking me out over the grave of a murdered family?"

Pitts shrugs, trying to hide a smile. "This is the worst timing, forget it."

.

In his car, you almost burst out laughing when the radio turns on and you hear the opening line.

If there's something strange in your neighborhood / who you gonna call?

"Ghostbusters!" You say at the same time as Pitts, finally letting out a laugh. "Holy shit, Gerard. We're ghostbusters."

He lets out a loud laugh, eyes crinkled shut as the warmth of his mirth washes over you. Never would you have imagined becoming so fond of him, but here you are; in the town's old cemetery, in his car, laughing, with your ghostbuster. 

"Hey." When the laughter fades away with the songs closing notes, you look over at him to find that he's already staring at you. "I would like to go to the movies sometime. With you." 

His smile is almost blinding, but he tries to repress it. "Oh, cool. Cool. Cool." 

"Come here, you dork."

You lean across the console to kiss him, hand grabbing the lapel of his jacket to pull him closer. Pitts' fumbles with his hands for a moment, settling on the curve of your neck. He radiates warmth and you sigh against his mouth. You feel safe around him. 

"I really like you." You manage to say in between kisses. "Like a lot."

"I can't believe we're making out in my car right now. I've had the biggest crush on you for years." Pitts said. 

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, I never said anything because you're like, really cool and pretty and smart and funny..." 

"I can't believe the sweetest guy in school likes me!" You giggle. 

"Meeks is never going to believe this." Pitts mutters under his breath.

"I think they have a showing of Detective Pikachu at nine we could make if we left right now?" You offer.

"Hell yeah." 

. . .

"Bullshit." Meeks said. 

"It's true!" Pitts argues.

"I can believe a lot of shit that you come up with, but this? No. I'm not buying it."

"We're dating now."

Meeks lets out a laugh. "Good one."

"It's true. Does this hickey look fake?" Pitts pulls down his hoodie to reveal the bruise on his neck, Meeks looks at it unimpressed.

"Bull, and I cannot express this enough, shit."

"Hey, Gerard." You walk into his room, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Hey Meeks. Ready to film my part for the podcast?"

Meeks gapes at you. "How much did he pay you to do that?"

"Nothing?" You said.

Pitts looks smug, arms crossed. "I accept your apology."

"So, it's true? You're actually dating?" Meeks ignores Pitts, looking to you.

"Yeah?"

Meeks starts pulling out equipment. "I should've known. You were a biter in preschool."

"I told you he wouldn't believe me." Pitts pulls you close to him, leaning down to whisper.

"I can hardly believe it myself." You grin. He returns it, going in for a kiss before Meeks clears his throat. 

"We, uh, have the podcast?"

"Right."

"Of course."

. . 

There was a single candle lit in the room, flickering shadows over Pitts' face. The scent of cinnamon and pumpkin spice fill your nose as you settle down next to him. His arm wraps around your waist, hand running up and down your back. He's dozing off, eyes barely open. 

The recording for the podcast had gone quickly and it was fun being apart of the dynamic of Oh, Wicked? Pitts had just finished editing the audio when you came out of the bathroom, ready for bed. 

"Do you know what color your aura is?" You lift your head off its spot on his chest, peering down at him.

He sleepily blinks awake. "Yellow, usually."

Violet and Yellow. . . .

.

The candle had flickered out at some point, the chill in the room having dropped several degrees. You curl over to Pitts, only to touch nothing but empty sheets. His absence wakes you up, looking around the room. It's pitch black. The curtains billow out with the breeze coming through the window. At least that explained the cold temperature. Standing up to close the window, you feel a chill run down your spine. The sound of someone breathing fills the quiet of the room, directly behind you. 

You turn slowly, seeing nothing but an empty room. Letting out a shaky breath, you reach for the lamp, but right before you flick it on, there's a loud bang as the window slams shut. The glass panes rattle with the force. You see, then, in the reflection of the window, a face. The eyes are dark and hollow, a pale face pulled into a grimace. It points toward the closet. You hear the breathing again, this time hitting your neck. Feeling nothing but terror, rooted to the spot, you watch as an apparition slowly forms at the spot where the face pointed. 

'. . .Run. . .'

It comes as a rasp, from thin air, urgent and quivery. Whether it's a warning or a plea, you find the ability to flee out the door. You slam into Pitts', arms crushing around his waist as you hyperventilate. 

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" The sound of his voice coated in concern has you melting against him. 

You know that it, whatever that was, is gone. 

"I saw something."

His face drops, stepping to the room, keeping a steady hand on your waist. The room is empty, window open with the curtains flat against the wall. You notice how warm it feels.

"Krisa said this might happen." Pitts said. He drops onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. 

"What?"

"She said you had this. . .energy around you, that might attract things to you. Especially after James' latched onto you."

“I'm a magnet for ghosts?"

"Well, more like a lighthouse. They're stuck in the dark and they don't know how to get out, but then they see the light and gravitate toward it."

"To move on?"

Pitts nods, tapping his foot lightly.  

"So, I guess we're more like ghost therapists?"

"Sounds lame when you put it that way." Pitts smiles when you do, pulling you down onto his lap. "But, I'm glad we're co-therapists."

You feel a laugh bubble up, forgetting the fear that had gripped your heart only minutes ago.

"Who you gonna call, when you can't move on?"

"My ghost therapist!" Pitts falls back against the bed, holding your hands in his.

"Thanks for being so relaxed about this? I don't know what I would have done without you." You said.

"I've been seeing ghosts since I was like six, so I'm kinda used to it." Pitts said, completely nonchalant. "Oh, and Krisa is my aunt. Did I mention that?"

You grab a pillow to smack him with. "Why didn't you say anything earlier!?"

"No one ever believes me. I was scared to take that chance with you." He fights off your pillow attack. 

"Well, buddy, we're in this ghost-counseling together."

"Why am I so attracted to you when you just talked me buddy?" Pitts mutters.  

"Maybe it's because our auras complement each other." You grin when he turns pink. 

"How do you know that!?"

"Yellow and violet are complementary colors? I just sorta guessed but you gave it away." You said.

"I regret ever having a crush on you."

"You had a crush on me? How embarrassing." 

"We're dating!"

___

everything tag @venusstarlight108 @ardentmuse @knivestheresnothingtoit @awesomefaith14 @salladwinston @anchy-bananchy @staygoldponebone @unique05sstuff

dps tag @rctroeras (not sure if you wanted to be removed from all taglists or just the outsiders so let me please xx) @ponyboyvhs

supernatural au tag: @carpe-robin @scribblestarsonthecuffsofurjeans

[leelee10898]

Back to you: Chapter 19- Take back home girl.

Summary: We pick up where 18 left off. Leo has invited Aria to his house where he is cooking her dinner and things get messy. Liam and Leo have a talk, and Aria attends Madeline’s bachlorette party. catch up HERE I blame @bobasheebaby for putting a certain messy part in my head.. and thank you @mind-reader1 for the dinner idea.

Rating: Fluff, NSFW.... Youngins avert your eyes! Chapter/title credit: Take back home girl - Chris Lane/Tori Kelly

Tag List: @bobasheebaby @scarlettedragon @annekebbphotography @speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @stopforamoment @mind-reader1 @xxrainbowprincessxx @hopefulmoonobject @alicars @katurrade @indiacater @bella-ca @blznbaby @blackwidow2721 @liamxs-world @simsvetements @furiousherringoperatortoad @choicesfannatalie @crookedslimecreatorpasta @coldcollectornight08

As always if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know

Leo grins as he pulls ingredients out and places them on the counter space. “Hmmm.” Aria jumps down and inspects the contents. “Tomato’s, tomato paste, noodles, basil, oreganoooooo… are you making pasta?” “Yes, I had a nanny named Josephine growing up. She was an older italian woman, she was like a grandmother to me.” Leo spoke as he preped the tomato’s and started to assemble the sauce in the pan. “She used to make me this pasta, I loved it so much she insisted she teach me how to make it.” Aria couldn’t help but smile, watching him move about the kitchen he looked like he knew what he was doing, that was for sure. “Anyway she told me that I needed to learn how to make this pasta so one day I could make it for the woman I loved. So now here we are.” Leo flashed that Hollywood smile at her. “So you’ve never made this for anyone before? Not even your ex wife?” Nope shouldn’t have said that, stupid Aria stupid 

Leo chuckled “No, I never wanted to make this for Katie or anyone else. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you Aria.” Aria closed the distance between them and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you too.” Leo poured her a glass of wine and directed her to relax while he finished dinner. She walked around the living room, admiring the different paintings that were hung on the wall. She made her way to the large patio and leaned against the railing taking in the sight of the busy city below, the city was beautiful to say the least. She could picture herself living here, watching Leo cook dinner through the glass doors, she pictured life with him. They would stay in New York, he would come home from one of his motocross races or practice. She would be cooking dinner, he would come up behind her kissing her on the neck and lips, placing his hands on her swollen belly.  They would always want to be with each other, and Leo not wanting to miss out on a minute of his children’s lives they would end up on the road together. She could see that life so vividly she felt like could reach out and touch it. But she couldn’t bear to hurt Liam, she did love him, but being with Leo, it just felt so right. Why couldn’t she bring herself to make the choice?

 “Hey beautiful, dinners ready.” Leo pulled her out of her thoughts. He pulls her chair out for her before sitting down across from her. “Wow, this smells amazing Leo."Aria picks up some pasta with her fork shoving it in her mouth. Her eyes go wide. It tasted amazing. Rich and hearty with the slightest sweet hint. The spices coming together in perfect harmony sending her taste buds into a frenzy. "Leo, this is possibly the most amazing pasta I have ever tasted, I am seriously impressed. ” Aria continued to devour the bowl in front of her. “I am so glad you like it, I had hoped you would.” Leo was pleased, he waited his whole life to make that for that special woman and he was so happy he got to make it for Aria. The more time he spent with her the more he knew if she chose Liam it would kill him. 

After dinner Aria jumped up to grab the plates to wash them. “What do you think you are doing.” Leo grabbed her arm gently. “Um clearing the table, so I can wash the dishes.” She insisted grabbing his plate. Leo stood up, taking the plates from her and placing them down on the table. “No I got them, you just relax.” He stood behind her kissing the back of her neck. Wow, cooks an amazing dinner and does the dishes, was she dreaming, that kind of stuff made her a little hot and bothered. 

After a few minutes of Leo cleaning the kitchen he steps out to the table with two bowls of ice cream. “So for desert I thought sundaes. is that ok with you?” A mischievous grin spread across Arias face, her thoughts in all the wrong places. “Perfect. ” she batted her eyes. Leo returned from the kitchen with a can of whipped cream, chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and caramel drizzle. Leo sat down next to her at the table and started creating his sundae. Aria picks up the can of whipped cream. “Hey Leo, you got a little something there.” She squirts a dollop on his neck making Leo gasp. “Here let me get that for you.” Aria leans over sucking the whipped cream slowly off his neck. A shiver ripples through his body.

 Ooooh she was good. the thought to himself as he turns to her a devilish smirk painted on his face. “Oh love why are you so clumsy? You have dripped caramel all over.” she teases as he drizzles caramel down her shirt onto her breast. “Let me to help you with that. ” he purrs as he pulls her shirt over her head, licking and sucking the caramel up. His lips and tongue sending jolts of electricity throughout her body.  He leans in kissing her softly, Her tongue slips across his lips savoring the sweet flavor of the caramel she sucks in his bottom lip. His hand plant firmly on her hips. Aria lifts his shirt, revealing his perfect chiseled abs. Fuck he’s sexy. She thought. She runs her hands across his chest, painting a mixture of caramel and chocolate along the lines of his muscles. She leans down running her tongue across his stomach lapping up the sweet goodness. He lets out a growl, she feels the electric tingles travel down to her wanting sex. 

Leo pulls off her leggings and un fastens her bra. He pours chocolate down her stomach and across her breast. Leo picks her up and lays her down on the table. He works his tongue and mouth across her chest, taking one of her pink buds in his mouth,cupping the other breast. he flicks it with his tongue before moving to the next. He makes his way down her torso nipping and sucking. He runs two fingers against the lace of her  thongs. “Mmmm, somebody’s already wet for me. ” he growls hooking his fingers into her panties pulling them down and off her body. He spreads her legs open, displaying her wet glistening pussy, all for him. He groaned in appreciation palming his hard member in his pants. He hastily sheds his remaining clothes. And climbs onto the table with her. Leo sprays a line of whipped cream from arias neck down to her pussy lips. He runs his tongue down the line before running it down her slit. Aria arched her back and the instant satisfaction.  

He used two fingers to part her folds unveiling her tiny bud. He flicks it a few times with his tongue teasing it, she pushes his head down farther onto her and bucks her hips up. Leos hand places firmly onto her pelvis. “Don’t move sweetheart.” He demanded softly. Aria whimpered as his tongue continued the assault on her sensitive clit. Her wanting center yearned to be filled by him. He slipped two digits into her wet heat. Her body arched up again, she threw her head back and let out a pleasure filled moan. Her hands found his hair as her fingers tangled themselves in his dark brown locks. She pushed his head closer to her. He pushed his fingers in and grazing that sweet spot with each pump. “fuck Leo, don’t stop, i’m close.” And just like that he pulled his fingers out and pulled his face back. Aria let out a disapointed wimper. She was so close and he just cut her lifeline like that?

 He snakes his body up her torso, his faces inches from hers. “Patience love, I plan on having you seeing stars tonight.” His lips come crashing down on hers. “Lets go wash this off.” he takes her hand, leading her up the stairs into the bathroom. He turned the water on, the entire ceiling pouring warm water onto their sticky bodies. Leo rubs soap all over her, lingering in the areas that drive her wild. She returns the favor wiping the suds all over him the water rinsing them off right away. Aria grabs a hold of his thick length stroking it a few times, before she drops down to her knees and taking his length into her mouth. She wraps her lips around him, slowly moving her head up and down. He throws his head back and moans “oh fuck baby, you look so fucking sexy with my big cock in your mouth. But I need to be inside you love.”

 He pulls Aria up spinning her around spreading her legs apart . He presses his body against hers she feels the tip knocking at her entrance. He peppers kisses along her neck before returning to her mouth while pushing his large length into her tight core. she squirms her ass at the painfully pleasurable intrusion. He thrust into her at a hard slow pace, building her up. She felt the coil tighten with each stroke. “Oh, oh Leo, oh fuck.” She panted out “that’s right baby girl, give in, cum on my dick.” His words give her the push she needs, the coil snaps and she gives into an intense orgasm. Leo holds her up as he legs turn to jelly underneath of her. “I got you love, ill give you a minute, but I’m not done with you yet.” Leo whispers in her ear.

 He turns off the water scooping her up in his arms. He walks over and places her softly on the bed. His hands roam her body, gently massaging her. He settles onto her clit rubbing it in lazy circles. “Are you ready for me love?” He breathes out kissing her neck “I need you Leo.” Aria moans out. Without a second thought he settles him self in between her thighs placing both legs on his shoulders pulling her up off the bed. His swollen tip piercing her hot center. She bucks her hips pulling him in more, he took the hint as he plowed his long thick member into her wanting center, filling her completely. Aria squirms her ass hard against him. “Tell me how you want it baby.” He purrs into her ear. A fire ignites within her. She stares back at him with dark hungry eyes. “I want it hard, fast and rough.” She pulls him down placing a searing kiss on his lips. Leo grabs a pillow from the top of the bed wedging it under the small of her back, allowing him to penetrate her deeper.

  He settles himself on his knees he thrust into her hard, and fast each stroke teasing her sweet spot making her scream out. “Harder.” She cries. Leo wraps his hands around her hips pulling her even closer. Each thrust lifting her off the mattress. The sounds of flesh slapping echo the room. His length pushing against her sweet spot. “You feel so fucking good baby, ooh so good, mmmm I love you Ari.” Leo grunted. “Oh fuck, I. Love. You. To. Le- ooooh fuck..” she screams out. “That’s right, cum with me baby.” Leo grunts as his own orgasm threatens to spill out. Her toes curl and her eyes roll back in her head. His name mixed with curses and screams she squirts her juices all over his length. The sensation sending Leo over the edge he buries his cock deep into her sex, shooting ribbons of his creamy thick seed into her. He collapses on her before rolling off. They lay panting and sweating next to each other. Aria reaches out and laces her fingers in his. Leo chuckles “You know I really did only invite you here for dinner love.” “Mmm that may be true, but I may have had other plans.” She giggles cuddling up against him falling fast asleep. 

***** The next morning Aria wakes up before Leo. Throwing her underwear and shirt on she walks out onto the balcony taking in the sight it. She wasn’t sure if she would get this view again. In a few days they would be heading back to Cordonia, but tomorrow they would meet with the private investigator. This was it, what they had been working for. Find Tariq  and clear her name so she could be with Liam, that’s what she wanted right? Then why did she not feel more excited. She loved Liam, he was kind and caring, any woman would be lucky to have him. But she Loved Leo too. He came back into her life like a force of nature, she never seen it coming but she was glad he did. Being in his arms felt right, he made her feel things no one ever could, and that did not include how he made her feel sexually. She was lost in thought until she felt hands sliding around her waist. “Good morning beautiful.” He whispered into her ear kissing her cheek. A giant smile formed on her face. “Good morning to you too.” She placee her hands over his. Today is Madeline’s bachelorette party.“ Arias voice dripping with sarcasm.

 She turns facing him, locking her hands behind his neck. She places a soft kiss on his lips. "We should get back, this is an important event. I don’t want to piss Bertrand off.” She sighs. “Yes, but first I have something for you.” Leo grins running inside. He returns with a blue satin small box. Aria looks up at him, wonder filling her eyes. “Leo you shouldn’t have got me anything.” She protested. “Just open it beautiful.” He chuckled. She opened the box. Her mouth agape. The beautiful stars and moon necklace she fell in love with at the jewelry store was right in front of her. “You like it?” Leo asked. She couldn’t form words so she shook her head yes. Leo chuckled as he took the necklace out “a loss of words is a good sign.” He fastened the necklace around her neck. Aria put her hand on her neck feeling the necklace. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him in for a hard kiss. “I love it, thank you.” “You are very welcome, now lets get you back.” 

Upon returning to the hotel she threw herself into bed. They had been on this engagement tour for two months now, and she was exhausted from all the constant events. She had a few hours before Madelines Bachlorette party so she took a nice nap.

Leo heads to his room, he kicks his shoes off and sprawls out on the bed. Just as he got comfortable a knock came at the door. He opens the door to find Liam standing on the other side. “May I come in?” Liam asks. Leo steps aside and lets him in. “We should talk.” Liam flops himself into the chair. “About what?” Leo wonders as he sits in the chair directly across from his brother “I know you love her, and I can see it in her eyes she is in love with you too.” Liam runs his hand down his face. “Do you have anything to drink?” He needed something to calm his nerves. Leo got up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and handed it to Liam. “No glasses, sorry.” He apologized. “You know she loves you too Liam.” Leo took a swig of the bottle. “I’m sorry.” They both said in unison. “I’m sorry I went after you at the bachelor party, I let my jealousy get the best of me.” Liam apologised. “Yeah i’m sorry too, It was a dick move to rub things in your face. ” Leo took another swig of the bottle. “Look, we both love her. She’s going to have to make a choice soon. I say we just see how things go? No point in fighting with each other, I know she hates it. I’m willing if you are.” Leo proposed. Liam extends his hand “Agreed.” He shakes his brothers hand. “So Aria has made arrangements to take the ladies to a club verdant tonight, get walker were crashing. ” Leo grins. “Madeline is going to hate that.” Liam chuckles. “Exactly why she planned it.” Leo laughed. 

***** A few hours later Aria meets Penelope, Kiara and Madeline at an upscale boutique. Madeline had requested each lady wear a metallic dress. Aria finds a gold tight fitting metalic dress that hugged her curves. “Wow Aria, that dress is beautiful on you."Penelope complimented her. "I suppose it will do.” Madeline sneered. Now ladies, we have a photo shoot and interviews with Ana DeLuca be sure to sing praises of what a wonderful queen I will be.“ Madeline assessed herself in the mirror. After the interview the women set off in the Limo. "So Aria what have you planned for your portion of the night?” Kiara questioned. “I pulled a few strings and got us into the hottest club in New York.” Aria beamed. She used to be a shot girl for Gabriel, he was a hotshot club promoter and he was currently working for Verdant. He was elated to hook her up with Vip treatment when he heard Cordonian nobility was involved.“A club, you are taking us to a night club?” Madeline spit with disgust. “Oh, I’ve never been to a club.” Penelope muttered, “Oui, neither have I.” Kiara said. Both ladies looked excited. “Well, you are all in for a fun time. Looks like we are here.” Aria elated as the limo rolled to a stop.

 “Aria, how wonderful to see you again.” Gabriel greeted her, kissing her cheek. “You too Gabe, this is Countess Madeline of Fydelia, Lady Kiara, and Lady Penelope. ” she introduced the women. “Pleasure to meet you all. Now I have taken care of all of your arrangements for the evening. Please enjoy. ” Gabriel lead them to a booth roped off in the VIP area. A waitress brought four drinks out for them. “Cupids kiss, compliments of club verdant.” She told them as she walked away. “Wow this is amazing, I cant wait to dance.” Penelope beamed. “Do be mindful not to embarrass me Penelope.” Madeline scolded her, penelope hung her head in shame. "Jesus Madeline. You could remove the stick from your ass just once.” Aria joked. Kiara giggled but quickly stopped as Madeline gave her a warning glare. “Whats this about sticks and asses?” Olivia chuckled as she slid into the booth. “Oh Olivia, I did not think you would be joining us tonight?” Madeline said through gritted teeth. “Of course darling, I wouldn’t miss another one of your Bachelorette parties for the world.” Olivia’s words like daggers at Madeline. Olivia not giving Madeline a chance to say a word spoke up. “Now lets get this party started,with shots! How about a game of credit card roulette?” This was going to be a long night, if she was going to get through it she would need some extra back up. Aria pulled out her phone and rambled off a text to two people. There’s no turning back now.

[bestofc]

Dimples

 So I want to first start off by saying never in the history of never ever have I ever met a Jessie, let alone laid one. But that's besides the point because I didn't know his name until after I let it be known just how much I wanted to screw him. It was a slow motion night at Dudley's. Mainly due to the massive consumption of alcohol, as we celebrated my baby sister's 21st birthday. I sat at the table observing because standing up was only a half option this far into the night. I began to doze just as a group of people walked in. Then all I could smell was some bomb ass weed that caught all my attention.

My mom was a strict no weed allowed type parent, which is hilarious being that my brother and sister cannot go a day without it, so I kept my enquiries to myself. That lasted up to about 10 minutes until I smelled it again. Except this time the scent was over my shoulder and 100 times stronger. Resisting with no longer an option. Especially when it was lingering from this gorgeous 6'4 borderline Yellowman with the most amazing dimples and smile to match. Liquid courage was not needed being that it was officially a part of me now. Without thought my mouth to say "So it's you I've been smelling." And just like that he flashed a smile with dimples as deep as the ocean and responded, "What do you smell?"

  The alcohol blackout the rest of that conversation. But somehow numbers are exchanged and we wasted enough time and Dudley's so we ventured towards Da Bomb. I left without saying anything because I wasn't sure how to play it. As I found the birthday girl and my auntie we were waiting on my mom drunk laughing at how cute that man I was talking to was. He appeared right on me smiling out how tipsy I truly was. Picking up where we left off I introduced him as my youngin Dimples. My sister says does he have a name? Realizing I never thought to ask. I turn and ask curiously, "What is your name?" Laughing he responds, "Jesse". I don't acknowledge Him and continue with my statement loudly claiming "It doesn't matter what your name is because I'm going to fuck the shit outta you regardless."

 Stopping my aunt in her tracks They pause momentarily then both bust out laughing. Trying to play it off I apologize and Blame It on the alcohol. But really in my mind I knew it was without a doubt true. Whispered in his ear you know I'm going to suck the fuck out of your dick as soon as you let me right? His eyebrow raised as he smirked and asked when? Just as I was about to answer his friend comes out saying they need to go now. That was into that or so I thought.

 You know when you have had a truly fun night when most of it is blacked out. Next thing I remember is a text at about 3 a.m. from Jesse saying thinking of you we were on the way back to Mama's apartment by then so I knew what was about to happen. Unfortunately mother saw how drunk I was and wouldn't let me leave. What you swore the best because those Patron shots seriously themed my vision and judgement. So I laid on the couch and we just talked on the phone. He wasn't upset about having to wait for me to sober up or rushing me either. Absolutely amazing man. Which made me want to fuck him even more so without saying to him I tried my damndest to sober up. And I did as I put my shoes on I was about to dip.

Just as fast as I got my shit together my mother was standing over me trying to convince me I wasn't sober enough and needed to stay longer. I was charged and ready for action nothing that I mean nothing she said in that moment mattered I mumbled something to respond and took off. I prepared myself mentally for what was about to happen as I put his address into my GPS. I didn't think of anything except how so sexy and tall he was and Dreads to boot. All just makes me wet thinking about it even now.

Slowly pulling up by rang his line just to verify the address. Ask his sweet voice guided me to his door I wondered if this was going to be worth it. He gifted my hand with his as we stepped upstairs. Nervous Giggles float in between the both of us. Jessie lightly kissed me to calm the nerves as he says, "what's all that game you were spitting over the phone? Can't back it up?" I step back to look him up and down and reply, "Oh I can" as I pushed him on his back. Sensual kisses from the bottom of his belly button up to his abs all the way to his soft lips. All over each other as I slowly grind against his very impressive hard on.

I was not expecting such size from a skinny nigga but Dimples definitely exceeded my prejudgments. Trying not to rush my drunken actions we made out and touched all the right spots for a bit. Up until I couldn't control the urge to feel him inside my throat. So I reversed my path upward as I follow the same trail to thd edge of his boxers. Teasing the process I grip the elastic while biting the print peeking out just a bit.

Before going in I decided to pace myself to provide pleasure. Gripping the cusp of his shaft as I slid my tongue slowly around the tip. Then one firm dip to the back of my throat. Double sighs, one from me gasping for air and one from Dimples sighing in relief. My mind moves in slow motion as I noticed the smile on his face as I come up. I smile and do it again to fuck with him. It works and he can't take it anymore as he reached out his hand to assist me off my knees. He gently sets me on the bed while kissing me all over.

 Body heat rising as he places his long, sculpted body atop mine. I began to drip once his dick pressed hard against my black lace panties. Pausing to reach for something in his drawer, he pulls out a magnum; which was well deserved. Somehow knowing he wanted to be safe made his dimples and everything about him beyond sexier. As I lay back gently rubbing my clit as he applied the condom he just smiled. We laughed and joined bodies once again. The penetration provided pure pleasure, felt like drugs were coarsing through my veins for the first time.

 Gripping the sheets as I lifted my legs to his waist to brace for the impact of his long strokes. Watching his chest flex with every stroke made it even better. Making me wetter. A smile slide across his face when he noticed. One smooth action as he flips his dreads back with his left hand while slowly creeping his right to my left nipple squeezing lightly. Biting my lip and rolling my eyes back as I lay back to enjoy his hard dick throbbing inside of me.

 Even though I knew from past experience that a big girl such as myself riding skinny dude like him never worked out but I did not care in that moment. Still tipsy and rational thoughts were absolutely foreign. All I saw was me pushing him off to climb on top. As he adjusted to let me have my fun I bent my knees slightly to properly squat on his dick. He moans ever so gently as my back and forth motions increase. He places his hands on my waist so we're rocking together as the tip of his dick hits my spot I moan loudly. My legs begin to quiver the more he rocked my clit rubbed against his pelvis. Trying to hold off longer I slowed down a little but Jesse was not having that as he gripped my waist tight and kept rocking but stronger. I laughed at his determination just as I came all on his dick.

Without skipping a beat he told me to bend over. I stopped and replied, "With what energy?" He ignored me while helping me in the proper position. Deciding not to be selfish I arched my back just right. Ass poking up so my cheeks spread and I made them jiggle just a little to say 'Come on in.' Unsure of this outcome I braced for impact as he placed a hand on each cheek preparing to slide in. I've never experienced a more gentle yet aggressive back shot before and I knew this one was for the memory books. Every stroke was intense but I held my own as he thrusted. Slow strokes just as he completed carressing my back as pulled away.

We giggled in agreement that the outcome was most definitely unexpected. Gathering himself he asked, "You thirsty? Want juice or water?" Not wanting to seem greedy I replied, "Water would be great." When he left I tried to hurry to get clothes on. I managed to get my bra and panties on before he returned.

 Once he returned we drank our water and he got into bed telling me to come rest. I sat for a second with my arm covering me up thinking I didn't want to be that exposed without sex happening. Finally I laid down as he watched me struggle to get comfortable and he cuddled behind me kissing my shoulder as he gripped my body and closed his eyes.

 I barely knew his name or anything about him. Him the same. Yet we talked, fucked and cuddled as if we'd known each other for years. That made it easier for me to go into a much needed deep sleep feeling comforted by his arms around me and his breath whispering in my ear as we dozed off. The sun rose but I did not notice. My alarm woke me to prepare me for my "Walk of Shame." Which never happened because Jeese woke as I did and watched me get dressed listening to a million lame excuses as why I couldn't stay for breakfast. He just grinned and reassured me everything was ok as he put on his slides. He walked with me hand and hand to my truck as he made jokes about my height and how drunk I was really. We arrived at my door and he stopped to kiss and hug me before opening my door so I could hop in. Watching me pull off, he waved until I was off his street.

[sansloii-a]

Fun Fact: lemme clue y'all in on one of mikah's abilities--summoning their tall, spindly, clawed buddy

now whenever they do this, they get a tiny less talkative for a moment because they have to concentrate. it doesn't require much energy ( because mikah produces a shitton of the matter their ghost is comprised of ) so, if anything, mikah's pause is more for themself. as far as Ajin go, mikah is a youngin' so manifesting a ghostie isn't second nature yet. they still have to think about how to summon it--how it FEELS when they summon it ( its different every time depending on mikah's mood but they’ve got the main emotions down )--in order to get it to take form. Otherwise, mikah won't be able to summon it OR it'll be fairly weak, which is basically a huge waste of time in their opinion.

the way it takes form also depends on the area mikah's in but The Usual is to their left or right. it also doesn't take very long to form either, lasting about as long as it takes mikah to wake up after being killed. they tend to favor having it rise out the ground ( as they've used this method too often to scare humans when they're pissed off ) so more oft than not, they have it default to that. When they don't have time to think about the method, the ghost takes its form however it pleases. it has sprouted up next to mikah, has risen up behind and in front of them, has emerged from ( read: crawled out of ) walls, “dripped” down from the ceiling, etc. bottom line is that if mikah wants to summon it, the ghost will find a way to follow through.

another thing to note is that mikah's mood will reflect on their ghostie goo. if they're calm, their ghost is calm unless told to attack. if they're irritated, their ghost may attack without them ordering it to. if they're agitated/mad, their ghost will attack upon summoning.

if they're livid, pray for mercy 'cause they're summoning more than one at that point.

[13uswntimagines]

Pressure (USWNT x Swift!Reader)

Authors note: This is part three in the swift life universe. I hope you enjoy it! Send me requests, questions or just hit me up if you wanna say Hi!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5

You were not usually a moody person. Yes, you were a little shy in crowded situations, but the team would say that your dominant personality traits were sunny and excited. Like a puppy, always running around and pranking people with the youngins, or cuddling into the closest veteran that you could find. 

Then, suddenly you weren’t. 

It had all started at family practice. Your entire family had made it, and you had been bouncing around like a toddler on a sugar high. Taylor had needed to leave early, but you understood and seemed excited to spend time with your brother and parents. You had been fine before you left for dinner with them. However, when the team saw you the next morning, your typically cheery demeanor was gone, and you seemed to tuck yourself back into your shell. That had been a week ago, and the problem only seemed to be getting worse. 

Practice was over for the day and while most of the team was packing up to head back to the hotel, you were lining up PK’s from all over the field. The vets were all watching as sweat dripped a little further down your face with each cannon-like shot you took towards the goal. 

“Is it just me, or is Baby Swift acting weird?” Alex asked, settling down on the bench being occupied by Krashlyn, Kelley, Becky, and Alyssa. They were beginning to get a little worried at how drenched your tank top was getting. 

“Totally not just you,” Ali winced at your frustrated yell when the ball ricocheted off the crossbar. You ran your hands frustratedly through your short hair, tugging hard on the strands. You mumbled something inaudible before slamming another ball towards goal. It too bounced off the crossbar. 

“She was out of the room before I even woke up this morning” Becky mumbled, as you chased after the errant ball, collecting in and sprinting towards the opposite goalline as though you hadn’t just gone through a crazy practice. 

“Y/n, willingly up before noon, there’s no way” Alex snorted. You might be known as a ray of sunshine, but you were most definitely not a morning person. The team learned the hard way not to mess with you before you had your coffee. 

“That cross was sick though” Kelley hummed as you rocketed the ball towards the opposite goal. It hit the back of the net with so much force that the metal rattled loudly. 

“If she kicks that ball any harder, she’s going to send it through the net,” Alyssa grumbled. Her chest hurt just thinking about trying to stop something like that. She could only hope you ended up on the red stars, so she wouldn’t ever have to worry about it. 

“Hm, why is she staying? Didn’t Jill release her early?” Becky’s eyes furrowed, as you collected the ball and began to run it back towards the opposite goal, acting as though you were faking out defenders and weaving through the midfield. The rest of the women shrugged. 

“Hey Linds, you know what’s up with the short stack?” Ashlyn called out to the blond who was paused midway through removing her cleat staring at you. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her head (like who gave you the right to look that good while drenched in sweat?) 

“No idea, but Sonnett might,” Lindsey hummed after a few seconds, her eyes still focused on the way the muscles on your arm looked as you clenched and unclenched your fists. She and Emily had all but told you of their feelings for you, and still, you were oblivious. They were probably going have to spell it out for you before you actually got that they were interested. 

“How about Alex and Kell go try and get some answers, we’ll see if we can work our magic,” Ashlyn mumbled, watching you worriedly. Yes, Alex and Kelley were your team moms, but Krashlyn had known you and your sister for longer. They also knew more about your family dynamics, and if that was what the problem was, they would have a better idea of how to go about fixing it. 

“Hey kid, want a challenge?” Ashlyn asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged, inadvertently brushing the warm arm off you, and heading back towards the balls lined up just outside the penalty box. You didn’t have time to talk. Krashlyn shared a worried look at your clear dismissal. 

“Come on, where the typical smack talk about the Krashlyn department of defense?” Ashlyn tried again, this time snagging the ball from between your feet. 

“Not in the mood,” You huffed, your shoulders slouching as though they held the weight of the world. If you couldn’t keep the ball away from Ashlyn when she wasn’t even trying, then how the hell were you supposed to do it against someone like Kelley. You angrily shook your head, punting the nearest ball. Maybe your mom was right...

“You ok kid?” Ali questioned more firmly, stepping into your path and preventing you from rocketing another ball towards goal. 

“I’m fine. Are you playing or not?” You snapped, pushing her off of you and heading to another ball with your head down, completely missing the worried looks shared between the two women. 

Yes, sometimes you got whiny or grumpy, but you were rarely ever blatantly rude. It just didn’t seem to be in your makeup. 

“Hey, watch the attitude,” Ashlyn said with authority, again stepping into your path, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“We’re just trying to help you,” Ali murmured, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your middle. 

You Tensed at the contact, before relaxing back into Ali’s arms with a sigh. Here you were adding more on to their already full plate. Apparently it was the only thing you could do, bring everyone around you undo stress. 

“I don’t need any help,” You uttered lowly, wigging out of their grasp, and blatantly refusing to make eye contact with the women who were watching you with concern. 

“Hey, we don’t know what’s going on, but sometimes it helps if you talk about it,” Ashlyn whispered, taking a step towards your shaking form. You shook your head and let out a humorless laugh. 

“You can’t help me,” you said lowly, stepping up to a ball and sending it flying into the crossbar and back toward you. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, catching the ball and spiking it on the ground. You ripped your hands through your hair, grinding your teeth. 

Ali’s gentle hands grasped your wrists, carefully pulling your hands to her chest. Ashlyn’s finger tilted your chin up, forcing you to make eye contact with them. You could see the worry in their gaze, and you felt guilty that you were the reason it was there. 

“Maybe we cant, but it might make you feel better if you talk about it,” Ali’s soothing voice murmured. They didn’t know what was wrong, but the problem was bigger than any of them had thought before. 

“Trust me, it won’t,” You repeated, your voice filled with utter defeat, shaking your head and doing everything in your power to prevent the tears from dripping down your face. You wiggled out of their grasp, ignoring the worried stares on your back, and headed towards the locker room. 

****

After your talk, if you could call it that, with Krashlyn, the veterans were hoping that things might get a little better, but against all odds, it just seemed to be getting worse. Becky shot you a worried look as the entered the dining hall. You were sat all by yourself (something odd to begin with) surrounded by your laptop and about a thousand notebooks. It was a clear indication that you wanted to be left alone, another odd thing. You were usually clamoring over yourself to get a seat next to Sonnett or Lindsey. 

“I didn’t think little Swift was going to college,” She mumbled as she took her seat beside Alex at the table.

“She’s not,” Alex huffed worriedly, furrowing her eyebrows as she watched you.

“Then what’s with the 40 notebooks,” Alyssa asked through a mouthful of food. 

“I’m not sure” Alex shrugged biting her lip thoughtfully. “did you get anything out of Emily?” She questioned, finally tearing her eyes away from you to glance at Kelley. 

“Kid just said that Y/n had been avoiding her an Lindsey,” Kelley mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“She wouldn’t tell Ash and me what was wrong, but if she’s avoiding team blond over there it has to be pretty bad,” Ali added, watching as you ran an angry hand through your hair, cringing when she saw the pen marks that covered your left arm. You had to be writing for hours for that to happen. You grit your teeth, staring at the offending screen. 

“I’m going to go talk to her before she has an aneurism,” Becky murmured, cringing when you tore a page out of the book in anger. 

“I’ll come with you,” Alyssa said quietly. They were the calm ones, and you generally responded well to them when you were upset. Perhaps their soothing strength would be enough to get you to open up. 

“Hey kiddo, mind if we join you,” Becky asked, waving a tantalizing piece of chocolate cake in front of your face. She frowned when you nodded, barely even looking up at your favorite forbidden treat. 

She slid into the seat next to you, glancing down at the papers scattered on the table in front of you. 

“What ya working on?” Alyssa questioned, doing the same on your other side, her eyes widening at some of the titles on the pages spread before you. 

“Stats,” You said distractedly, flipping through screens on your computer. 

“These are our scoring, defending, and playtime averages for like the past 10 years!” Alyssa exclaimed, grabbing one of the notebooks that were further out from you. The notebook with her name written on it. 

“Hmm,” You hummed, squinting at the screen before jotting down whatever number you had been looking up. 

“Are these music stats too?” Becky asked confused, grabbing a different sheet with chart numbers from 2009. 

“Yeah,” You muttered back lowly. 

“Why the hell are comparing our averages to how artists and tracks do on the charts and how often they play at award shows?” Becky questioned, placing a finger under your chin and forcing your attention away from the numbers on the screen. You sighed. You didn’t have the time or the willpower to explain it to them. They wouldn’t understand. 

“I’m just checking…” You huffed, finally making eye contact with the woman, your shoulders slumping. She could see the sadness that seemed permeate through every part of your being, it was a sadness that she couldn’t place or ever remember seeing before. 

“Checking what? How you compare to the rest of us and other people in the music industry?” Alyssa’s voice was soft, like a protective blanket, as it probed you for more information, her hand resting on your shoulder. 

“Not people,” You grumble, your frustration leaking into your tone. 

“Who, Taylor?” Becky asked gently. You nodded slightly, squeezing your eyes shut, as though the action physically pained you. Becky’s eyes furrowed, why the fuck were you comparing your stats to your sister’s. She thought that you had gotten past this. 

“Look, as much as I love being interrogated, I’m trying to…” You grumbled, pulling your face out of Becky’s grasp, and staring down at your hands. 

“Trying to what?” Alyssa pushed, carefully moving a stray strand of hair from your face. You opened and closed your mouth several times, as though you were trying to find the words to describe what you were doing. Becky and Alyssa watched you, biting their lips and praying that you would open up to them. The didn’t like mopey Y/n, and they would do whatever they could to help you. 

“Just forget it,” You said finally, closing your notebooks and picking them up hastily. You shook your head. 

“Wait, kid,” Alyssa gently grabbed your arm before you could leave “you know we’re here if you ever need to talk?” She finished, and you met her worried eyes from a brief moment. 

“I don’t want to be more of a burden,” You whispered back hoarsely. Alyssa and Becky shared another set of confused looks. 

“You’re never a burden kid. Who made you think you were?” Becky quired, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. You were the baby of the team, and insecure enough to begin with, whoever the fuck told you that you were a burden was about to find out what happens when you messed with their little one. Your eyes widened at the admission. You shouldn’t have said that. 

“It doesn’t matter. Just forget I said anything,” You said far too quickly, grabbing your things and twisting out of their grasp. The two women sighed, at least they knew a little more about what was going on. 

*****

You couldn’t avoid Emily and Lindsey for forever, and after they demanded you come to their room for a movie night, you couldn’t find it within yourself to refuse them. Sure, you usually loved spending time with them, but after all of the things your mom said, you knew that they would never want you the way you wanted them. Why would they? 

“Hey babe, have you seen these tweets,” Emily laughed at her phone, and you glanced over at her disinterested, shrugging your shoulders. You weren’t big on social media in the first place, and after everyone found out about your relation to Taylor, you were even less of a fan. Her fans always thought it was funny to spam your page with compilation after compilation of your worst soccer fails. 

“They made compilations of our greatest fails, and you’re in like half of it,” Emily snorted, and Lindsey clamored over to her, trying to see some of your worst moments. 

“You know we were the ones in blue right?” Linsey giggled, after what you were sure was you missing a pass in an important game. But that wasn’t the end, the hits just kept on coming. They took turns pointing out your soccer missteps and joking about why they had happened with things like: “It’s supposed to go in the goal babe, not over it,” or “You got tripped by a ghost,” and your personal favorite “Aw, you look so cute when you’re faking a foul,”

They had laughed until tears had welled up in their eyes. You had played along, resorting to hiding behind a polite smile, and passing off your tears as the same as the ones your friends. You would never tell them how much it had hurt to watch them giggle as you failed at the only thing you had ever been confident in doing. It hurt to watch them joke about how you should turn these moments into a highlight reel for how to not to make it on the National team. Lindsey had even commented that maybe your inability to find the back of the net or beat the defender on a few occasions was the reason why your older sister’s talents had so often eclipsed your own. They had meant it in good fun. You knew that. They loved you and were probably only doing it to make you laugh and get you out of your funk. The problem was that you didn’t find it funny.

“Hey guys, I promised I would meet Kellex for dinner, so I gotta jet,” You interrupted after what you deemed to be an acceptable amount of time, hoping that your voice wouldn’t break. 

“Okay,” The woman shot you a smile, waving you off, and you excused yourself. Your shoulders slumped farther. You knew you didn’t have a chance with them, but you still didn’t like it when they threw it back in your face all of the time. 

*****

You took a deep breath of the cool night air, taking solace in the field that had always been your haven. It had always been the one place where you were more than just Taylor’s little sister. The one place that you had even a remote possibility of making your mother proud and proving to your parents that you weren’t a failure. Yes, you should have told someone from the team that this is where you would be. Yes, they would be upset, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. 

You growled, setting up another shot. Vlatko didn’t think you were good enough to play in the scrimmage at practice, so you were going to work your ass off until you could prove him wrong. Taylor had flown out here for nothing. Your mother had taken the opportunity to try to make you See that your soccer career was to be short-lived and without a college degree you were going to end up a slouch mooching off of your older sister’s success. You were going to do your damndest to prove them all wrong. 

“You know, if you kick it any harder, you’re going to break the net,” Kelley’s voice startled you out of your focus, causing you to send the shot wide. 

“You know it’s easier to score when it’s not 2 AM right?” Alex said as you turned to look guiltily at the women. You shrugged noncommittally, setting up another ball. 

“How’d you find me?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder at your team moms. 

“Just ‘cause you don’t use Snapchat doesn’t mean that the rest of the world doesn’t either,” Kelley laughed wiggling her phone in your face, and you blushed. You were probably one of the only Millenials in the country that had no idea how the app worked. You rarely ever used it, and only kept it on your phone because Emily had put it there. 

“Wanna tell us why you’re out here sooting PK’s so late?”Alex questioned, placing a hand on your shoulder. You sighed, focusing on rolling the ball between your feet. 

“My sister flew halfway across the country to watch me sit on a bench for two hours,” You said quietly, flipping the ball up on your toebox and rocketing it towards goal. Alex and Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. Kelley opened her mouth to interrupt you, but Alex held her hand up to stop her. You needed them to listen right now more than you needed their reassurance. 

“And my mom threw a shit fit because I told her that I’m in talks with Portland about playing for them next season instead of going to college,” You rumbled, firing another ball towards goal. 

“And the fans won’t stop throwing all of my fucking mistakes on the field in my face,’ Your voice raising, ripping your hands through your hair, shrugging off Kelley and Alex’s comforting hands. 

“And Emily and Lindsey will never see me as more than a little kid just trying to keep up with them,” You finished with a yell, firing another shot towards goal. 

“Stop, Y/n Y/m/n Swift. First and foremost, you’re insane if you don’t think that those two knuckleheads are as into you as you are to them,” Alex said firmly, placing both her hands on your shoulders and forcing you to look at her. 

“Second of all, you didn’t get the full 90, but you scored two goals in the 20 minutes that you were playing,” Kelley reassured, wrapping her arms around you from behind, placing her chin on your shoulder. 

“And third, don’t listen to what anyone else says. You are freaking incredible, and even though it’s going to suck playing against you, the Thorns are lucky to have you,” Alex finished, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. 

“There’s just so much pressure, and I can never ever be nearly as good as Taylor is,” You sighed, tears of frustration leaking down your face. 

“Babe, we’ve been through this. You are your own amazing person, and the talents that you have are different from the ones that Taylor has. You’ve won a world cup,” Alex said, using her thumbs to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

“And she’s won multiple Grammys” You responded lowly. 

“You can’t compare the two,” Kelley stated firmly, squeezing you a little tighter. They knew that you were always trying to prove yourself to everyone, but they didn’t know how to show you that you didn’t have to be Taylor. Your worth had nothing to do with how you compared to her. 

“You are incredible in your way, and we’re all here to support you,” Alex said, pulling you into a hug and letting you cry into her shoulder. They weren’t sure how long they stood there in the middle of an abandoned soccer field holding you, but they knew that this was what you needed right now. They would work on your confidence and the issues later. Right now you just needed to know that they were there and they weren’t going away. To know that you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore. They and 21 other women were there to help you, and together you would show the world that You might not be Taylor, but you were a worthy Swift in your own right.

[lazywriter7]

For @ishipallthings​, some ace Nat and aroace Bruce because she’s a fantastically wonderful person who flails about the same things I do and knows the potential of the ship and where it could’ve gone. Warnings for crass language, internalised aphobia, brief thoughts of suicide, and Bruce Banner’s generally messed up brain. Bruce Banner’s first girlfriend cheated on him.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a monotone. Snot dripped out her nostrils, caked the foundation on her upper lip. Red-rimmed lids peeked behind mascara-thick lashes. “I’m really sorry.”

This probably wasn’t heartbreak. Fifteen though he may be, Bruce was peculiarly well acquainted with this conflagration of emotion – humiliation that scalded his skin red, made his bones shake – rage deep and banked, eating away at his gut, springing bile from his throat. The impulse to hurl was sudden and overpowering, though he couldn’t tell if it’d be last night’s chicken parma or the invective he’d borne and swallowed during it: Brian Banner’s ugly words cast new shape in his own voice box.  

This wasn’t heartbreak

(click below to read more)

“I wasn’t thinking.”

How lucky for you. Teenagers weren’t built for this kind of viciousness, Bruce thought, finger nails gouging bloodless lines on the insides of his wrists. His frame, short and weedy, shook with it like a rattling plastic bag, too brittle to hold the hatred hostage for long. It would rampage through his body, eventually tearing itself out – and what would he do then?

“He was…offering. And I didn’t know how to say no.”

The injustice of it rankled the most. Which was strange in its own right, because Bruce had never grown with the ideals of good and bad, the world as a perfectly fair, balanced scale and destined to stay that way, pre-established in his head. But it still, frustratingly, rankled; not six months had gone by since she’d pressed and he’d reluctantly agreed, not six months till he’d gone about losing his virginity as a stuttering coward would. And still, instead of asking: why would you do that to me, he found himself with why wouldn’t you just do this earlier.

“I.” Holly gnawed on her lip, hazel eyes running over him in a terrified flitter. “I feel terrible. And this is going to be a dick thing to say, but.” He’d liked her for that, when they’d first gotten together. For saying the dick things. His dad called him a pussy every morning, it seemed a match made in heaven. “I didn’t think this would…matter to you. That much.”

Bruce had never put much stock in heaven, himself. “Sorry to exceed expectations.”

Holly laughed, a little burble of distraught, amused sound. Such a dick. “You were always so nice. It never seemed to translate to caring, though.”

Bruce didn’t contradict her. “I trusted you,” he said.

“Yeah.” Holly breathed, blocked nose clearly audible. She knuckled at the base of it, and Bruce wondered if it was supposed to make him feel nostalgic, or bitter. It accomplished neither. “I suppose you did.”

 ~

 She’s pretty. It was as one might feel, distractedly coming to a stop at the sidewalk and admiring the house up by the turn of the road. Absent musings, worth much of nothing.

It was the most, and the least important thing about her. Bruce could only muster an abstract, almost contemptuous regard. She’s pretty.

Natasha Romanoff blinked prettily at him, the barrel of her gun only slightly off the midline of his throat. She probably didn’t need point-blank range to get a shot in. Still, at this distance the arterial blood would catch her in the face, bright red to match the sweat-sodden hair tucked behind her ear. Frothy too, if she also managed to nick his respiratory tract. Sure, all that mess could be avoided if she adjusted her angle a bit, came in from the front…though that wasn’t guaranteed, especially if the bullet got deflected by his thyroid cartilage – maybe crushing in the trachea, maybe shredding the carotid sheath–

She raised a hand to her ear, nail scraping down the lobe, bumping the ear piece on the way. “Stand down. We’re good here.”

Kolkata shuffled around them, the rustle and clicks of a squad of men disarming drowned in the din. The gun lowered.

Ah, life. The constant balancing act between murder and suicide. Bruce smiled. “Just you and me, huh?”

 ~

 “Banner!” Barton bellowed, even though he was barely twenty metres away and sprawled on the common room’s shag carpet like an overly spoilt pet. “Come, educate the ignorants on spin the bottle.”

“I claim privileges of token straight Avenger.” Bruce tried not to let his lips quirk, but it was inevitable with the camera-worthy splutter Cap had just executed over the lip of his beer bottle. With Tony and Barton on the team, he rarely ever elicited this kind of reaction – it was hard not to feel a touch of self-satisfaction. “Considering present company and the four in five chances of kissing a guy, I’d prefer not to join in, thank you.”

“Codswallop.” Came the dramatic declaration from the couch – Tony rolling over onto his belly to suit the motion. “You’re in a house with Barton’s arms,” An empty beer bottle used efficiently as laser pointer to emphasise the words, Barton flexing his biceps helpfully to assist, “my butt, and Capsicle’s abs. There’s no way you don’t have a queer boner in your body.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how the idiom goes.” Cap pointed out lightly, upper lip still shiny with spilled beer; but gave himself away a second later when his chin dipped, eyes glancing down at his own abdomen with a flush rising to his cheeks.

“Do I not have any desirable physical attributes, Stark?” Thor was squatting on the carpet too, but with a kind of leonine grace that made even the crosslegged pose look regal. His eyes glinted, like he wasn’t really expecting any kind of slight on his looks, but wouldn’t be affected if it came all the same.

“Well, hair.” Tony shrugged loosely, bottle rolling out of his grip to fall to the floor with a muted thunk. “But that isn’t gendered, so.”

“And abs are?” Bruce stiffened as a shadow fell over the counter he’d propped his back against; Natasha leaning in from the other side, newly poured scotch gleaming in a tumbler set by her elbow. Her chin rested casually on folded knuckles, her lashes gold-tipped in the lighting.

“Just saying that some confused youngin’ could delude himself into straightness over lush rivers of gold-spun locks.” Tony’s fingers reached out to tug at said locks as if to illustrate, immediately retracted at the sight of Thor’s toothy don’t-you-even-think-about-it grin. “Rogers’ rock-hard plateaus are a bit more in-your-face in that respect, y’know?”

Natasha wrapped two fingers around her glass, her silken sleeve whispering against the granite counter as she raised the drink to her lips. No reply seemed forthcoming; the comment had too obviously been made for Cap’s benefit anyway, who looked keen to migrate straight out through the doorway he’d been leaning against all night. Poor man, probably hadn’t anticipated the level of sexual harassment involved when assuming leadership of a superhero team.

Poor man, blessed with preternatural good looks and a serum-perfect body. Bruce didn’t censor the faintly bitter thought. Sometimes you had to make compromises, to ensure ugliness of this kind wouldn’t spill over his lips into the real world.

Internally caught up as he was, he couldn’t stop the errant flinch when soft tones spoke not far from his ear. “Straight, you said?”

Bruce looked back. Natasha had the scotch glass comfortably cradled in her palm, not a hint of a smudge visible on the rim, the russet mouth hovering inches above it flawless. It was uncanny.

“It isn’t nice to whisper.” He said it before he’d fully thought the words out, but there was nothing for it. That was Natasha for you: always faintly jarring, setting off prickles along the skin no matter how much she tried to put you at ease. Or maybe it was just him. “While talking in a group, I mean.”

“Sorry, were you going to participate?” For the words being what they were, Natasha’s tone was spectacularly even-keeled. Like she was asking a genuine question.

“I was participating.” The conversation had already picked up again behind them; Bruce’s jaw tightened by a fraction.

“How long have you had that line you just said to Clint stored up in your head?” If Bruce were the bristling kind of person, that sentence would have definitely set him off. She wasn’t even looking at him as she said it; eyelids fluttering as she took a casual sip of her drink before pale green eyes drifted up again to regard him calmly.

Because that was her chosen form of approach, with him. With Tony it was all coy smiles, sharp barbs and riddles galore, with Cap it was open eye contact and as much sincerity as was permissible. This…this quiet regard where she didn’t taunt, didn’t sound mocking, just watched as if waiting to see how long he’d keep playing the part – was reserved especially for Bruce.

He was coddled by the world that would still interact with him, with the exception of Natasha Romanov. And Tony freaking Stark, but at least Tony freaking Stark’s motives were transparent. Misguided, but transparent.

Tony wanted a science partner, and a friend. Natasha…most of the time, Bruce didn’t know what the heck Natasha was playing at.

But if he’d been that easy to rile, the world would’ve gone to hell in a handbasket a long time ago. “Fine, you got me.” Gentle, mild self-derision – he pulled it off well. “It would’ve taken me at least another five minutes to screw up the courage to say something else.”

“I don’t know if it’s to do with courage.” And that was startling in of itself, Natasha Romanov beginning a sentence with I don’t know. Another ploy of some sort, inevitably. She wasn’t looking away, irises steady. “I think you just don’t like talking to people that much.”

And you’re seeking me out for conversation – why? Bruce dipped his head to his collarbone, a gradual motion, not quite a nod, and said nothing.

Natasha wouldn’t relent. A sip of scotch, an ingenuous blink. “So, straight?”

Bruce held back a sigh. From the rabble, Thor and Barton appeared to be comparing bicep sizes, Tony gleefully presiding over the proceedings, with frequent asides to a distinctly amused looking Captain America. Yeah, no help from that quarter. “Functionally, sure.”

Bruce half-expected an arched eyebrow. It seemed like the sort of urbane, inscrutable expression ex-Russian spies would sport. Natasha greeted him with another blink. “Now that’s a qualifier I haven’t heard before.”

“I’m not too…interested in that side of things.”  Nice and non-committal. Nothing to do with how even the idea of having someone that close, breath hitting skin, was enough to send Bruce’s heartbeat skittering. “But if I…uh, hypothetically were, then it would…”

“Be in someone of the feminine persuasion.” Natasha completed, eyes straying back to the drink as if in concluded thought. Probably adding the fact to the file. Bruce would hesitate over giving her yet another tool to technically play him with, but she’d never needed tools to do damage.

“You’re bisexual.” It came out as a blurt, too late to pull back and hanging awkwardly; probably because Bruce wasn’t halfway as good at the ‘make incisive assumptions about people and quote it to them like life-truths’ thing that Natasha did so well. Not that Bruce wasn't fairly certain about this little bit of trivia, he had –

Natasha laughed. It lasted for a second, a rise and fall of low-pitched sound. And the murmur that followed in its wake was interminably amused. “No.”

(So that flushed ‘fairly certain’ right down the drain. Unless she was lying to him, because it was easier to discern why she would lie to him, than why she wouldn’t.)

It took a few seconds of perplexed staring for Bruce to realise the drink set down by his elbow now was unattended, and that she was walking around the counter, inexorably approaching his side. “I said it wrong before.”

That particular combination of words from her mouth did not help in the least, not with how spectacularly unmoored Bruce was feeling. This conversation was evolving too fast for him to keep up with. Natasha came to a standstill, a few scant inches away, lips still upturned. “As nice a line as ‘functionally straight’ makes at parties, Dr Banner – have you considered that maybe you just don’t like people in general?”

“…right.” Bruce pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, fingers suddenly itching. It did nothing to obscure the sight of unswerving green eyes.

Natasha’s lips pressed in on themselves, gaze growing bright. And before Bruce knew it – there was a hand darting up to weave through the curls at his hairline, mussing it slightly before patting it down, there and away in an instant.

Did. Did she just…ruffle my hair?

Unmoored wasn’t quite the word to describe it, anymore. Flabbergasted, maybe. And he wasn’t the only one – before she wiped it completely, Bruce caught a distinctly discomfited expression on Natasha’s face, almost wide-eyed; like stage seven of some elaborately hatched plan had gone Very Wrong, and regrouping was required, stat.

“Um.” Natasha stared at the slightly depressed portion of Bruce’s hair for a couple more seconds, before her eyes jumped to the far end of the room, face perfectly composed. “Have a pleasant evening, Bruce.”

And off she went, crossing the room in a deceptively small number of steps and politely excusing herself through the same doorway Bruce was sure Captain America was going to use as an escape hatch not so long ago. Also – the ‘Doctor Banner’ thing had apparently been deliberate.

Not important right now, Bruce told himself firmly – though it was yet another blip in a conversation that had been a raging spike from baseline. They were on first name terms, the way people who were adults and co-workers and weren’t the rest of the Avengers were on first name terms; unfailingly cordial and non-passive-aggressive. There was an undercurrent though, to their talks. Some form of…if not hostility, then at least unease. Had been from the very beginning.

And yet now there were repressed smiles and amused eyes and hair ruffles – a softly enunciated ‘Dr Banner’ that was nothing like the way Bruce addressed Barton by his last name, that was almost…playful? He wasn’t used to this; the Natasha he knew had every move planned ages in advance, paid attention but always from behind shielded eyes. And that was how Bruce approached their talks, always guarded and wary, but this…

This. Bruce stared bemusedly at the half-empty tumbler of scotch on the counter, lone and deserted. This was altogether inexplicable.

 ~

 It was probably more traditional to let the water keep beating down on his neck.

Instead, Bruce turned the shower off, knob squealing under slippery fingers. The cold prickled on his skin, droplets trickling uncomfortably down the line of his back. He stood till his frame trembled with shivers, air drafts chilling on wet skin.

Had they figured it out yet? Probably; he’d given them the clues himself, felt the words ricochet emptily in the dry expanse of his mouth. Staring at a corpse, made of shattered gold light.

“Ultron could've assimilated Jarvis. This isn't strategy, this is...rage.”

The back of his head thudded against tile; he felt nothing. The team only saw Ultron’s swift talking, the casual assumption of knowing what was best for the entire world. And Tony made it so easy too…with his derisive laughter, distracting aggression. All attention focused solely on him. Maybe it was deliberate, maybe an unconscious reflex – Tony could be a self-sacrificing fool like that sometimes.

But a propensity for banter and warped futurism weren’t the dangerous things that Ultron inherited. They didn’t drive him towards wiping out the planet of humanity. Rage did.

And Bruce knew where he got that from.

By the time he stepped out of the cubicle, his teeth were chattering. The towel was too soft against his skin; he dried himself with rough, cursory strokes. The only clothes he had were tossed carelessly on the floor of the room he’d been assigned, and they’d have to do; borrowing from Barton while they were already intruding on his privacy like this felt out of question. He secured the towel about his waist mindlessly, and stepped out bare foot on the room’s linoleum floor.

“I would’ve joined you, but it didn’t seem like the right time.”

A prolonged exhale. He pulled his eyes up reluctantly from the floor’s checkered patterns, up to the figure leaning by the door. The outline was a little blurred sans glasses, but unmistakable.

Natasha slipped in. Drew close, step by increasing step. Paused just at the outside edge of personal bubbles, then stepped right through.

The tilt of that uplifted chin was…enchanting, Bruce could admit. Their very breaths seemed aligned, push and pull, ebbing and flowing in eddies. But it came accompanied by a butterfly touch: a light-fingered hand skating up the line of his collarbone, and Bruce’s mind whited out.

No.

The angle of her chin grew more prominent, her entire face tilting to the side. As gently as it had come, that light touch whispered away. Natasha watched him, soft-eyed. “Not even for comfort?”

“It.” The word struggled in his throat, rough and ungainly – and for all that Bruce made a practice of loathing himself, it rarely overcame him so completely. “It wouldn’t be…comfortable. For me.”

A few seconds more of silent watching. “Good.” Natasha said, and withdrew; nimble feet padding over to the bed, the frame creaking as her weight settled on the mattress. She crossed an ankle over the other, green irises clear. “I’m asexual.”

Bruce blinked rapidly. Conversations lapsed ages ago shot across his brain in a blur: that quiet laugh, the firm denial when he’d literally accused her of bisexuality.  His mouth worked uselessly for moments, before words started spilling out, ill-hewn and incoherent. “But you just…why would you…”

Even her shrug was elegant, a little loop that her shoulders described in the air. “It doesn’t bother me. I’m not sex-repulsed; just indifferent to it.” Her lips curved, ever so slightly. “And with how tied up physical intimacy is with…other kinds of attraction, I guess it just seemed easier.”

Other kinds of attraction. And quick on the heels of it, the old memory still playing: “have you considered that maybe you just don’t like people in general?”

His expression was a little too brittle. “Lucky for you I’m a bit too much of a coward for sex, then.”

He was anticipating any number of answers. Maybe a delicately drawled, lucky? does that mean this is a yes? To which he’d have replied, a thousand times.

But Natasha’s lips only flattened, gaze implacable. “Have you thought not wanting to do something might not be the same as being a coward?”

I wasn’t talking about you. Just me. Bruce smiled, resigned and dark. “Never been able to tell the difference before.”

 ~

 “What’s your favourite book?”

Bruce supposed the expression on his face was more than a little sceptical, because Natasha kept watching him, patient and unblinking. There was never any sulking, or pouting, or plaintive ‘come ooooon’s with Natasha. Just out-waiting the silence.

He cracked. “I’ve never decided on just one.”

The swing frame creaked, clods of dirt disturbed as heels skimmed against the earth. Quite impressive really, that she managed to maintain eye contact despite all that. Bruce sighed.

Four weeks after Tony had driven off into the distance ‘forever’, he came roaring back into the Facility: new car, new glares and loudly demanding new upgrade requests. After a few seconds of silence, during which the New Avengers all looked at each other awkwardly – Natasha asked for a swingset.

(“Didn’t know you guys were already there, but anywho – I’m a bit of a virgin with sex toy design.”

“Outside.”

“Kinky.”

.

“…ohh.”)

Tony continued to assume it was all still a joke, Natasha remaining unruffled as only one who’d made a career out of profiting from people’s assumptions of her motives could. (Bruce didn’t try to much, anymore. She spoke, and he listened: an honest exchange. A bit of a revelatory experience for the both of them.)

But anyway – schematics for a swingset arrived at the Facility within a week, extravagant enough for a Disneyland ride. Natasha scratched the entire thing out and sent back a poorly rendered doodle of something more suited to a children’s park. Now fully committed to the ‘joke’, Tony sent handymen to the facility with the crayon drawing in hand. Natasha directed them to the meadow behind the east wing.

And now they were here: Bruce motionless, tailbone pressed against the wood of the swingseat, even as the chains for the adjacent seat rattled next to him. Natasha’s back curved into the motion as she propelled herself further, the swing describing an arc that stretched farther and higher with every gentle whoosh.

The sun was glinting in his eyes; Bruce plucked off his glasses and reflexively began wiping them on his sleeve, finally slipping the frames into his shirt pocket. The world and his vision was still overcome with gold spots; Natasha must be positively blinded at that height. He wondered how she bore it. If he helped.

“What’s yours?”

The swing continued to creak – Bruce kept watching. The lobes of her ears peeked behind a mass of riotous, poppy-red waves; she probably hadn’t combed her hair since morning. There was a spring leaf caught just above her hairline.

“The Kite Runner.” Her voice was borne on the breeze, quiet and fleeting. “Afghani writer, Khaled Hosseini.”

There was a beech tree twenty metres to the left of them, thick trunk and towering foliage; the sunlight strained through its leaves, casting dappled shadows on Natasha’s face. Light and dark and clear and bright. Bruce breathed. “I thought it might be something you might’ve read when you were…growing up. Can’t imagine Russian fairytales to be the cheeriest, admittedly.”

“Fairytales aren’t supposed to be cheery. They’re supposed to introduce you to life-truths, in a format you can handle as a child.” Any other person might have called her tone detached. To Bruce, Natasha sounded contemplative. Like her emotions worked best when they were separated from her. “Parents die, you have to leave your home, there is always someone in the world that means you harm.”

Here there be dragons. Her feet made perfect ballet points as she swung back, the leaf escaping her curls and drifting down to settle on the grass-covered ground. “Of course, they also sell you ideas that make it easier…possible, to live in the same world as those truths.”

“True love.” Bruce’s lips were moving, he didn’t make an effort to still them. “Soulmates.”

“Yes.” Whoosh. Those eyes strayed skywards, where cloud-wisps were being buffeted about by the wind, ephemeral white on blue. Natasha’s lips curved. “And freedom.”

Quiet. Bruce waited her out, unspeaking.

“The Kite Runner sold me on the idea of redemption. No matter how far man falls, how despicably he stains his hands. There’s always the hope of washing it all away.” The arc was shortening, the swing beginning to creak to a stop. Natasha’s heels skimmed the ground. “I suppose it was my fairytale.”

The swing trundled, slowly, before coming to stillness. Bruce turned his head to face her, palely green eyes meeting his own, calm and peaceful.

“I didn’t like those stories much. The notion of true love.” When Bruce breathed deep, he could smell the grass under his feet. His heart lumbered under his rib cage, slow and steady. “Maybe because I …don’t like people in general.”

It was barely visible, which was how he knew it was genuine – the curve of Natasha’s smile.

“I thought it made me selfish. Coldblooded.” His mouth felt strange, trying to shape itself into an expression that didn’t contain derision. “The antipathy towards sex didn’t help either.”

“I.” And it caught in his throat again, but Bruce breathed. Again and again, and Natasha waited for him through all of it. The words were ineloquent, but they were finally there. “I don’t know why you’re still here.” With me. “Maybe you’ve been a spy too long. Maybe the other person has always been more invested in the relationship than you have.”

“Maybe I don’t feel sexual or…. romantic, attraction.” Maybe I’m not a selfish coward. Bruce’s throat was dry, but his words were clear. “Maybe you think that means you can’t hurt me.”

There’s a holly tree he could glimpse, beyond Natasha’s head of hair, far off into the grounds. “You’d be wrong.”

I care. I always have.

Natasha met his eyes, like she could hear the words. Like she had instilled them inside his head, with incisive comments that were never taunts, with calmly knowing gazes, with a patience that spoke volumes to the…adoration, she felt. Her own eyes looked content. “I know.”

[sweetbtsboys]

BTS Hospital AU - Smile Again so My Heart Won’t Stop (Chpt.1)

It was rain. It was rain that slid down the car windows as Park Jimin's broken heart was taken to the hospital, but his heart wasn't broken metaphorically, no, it was broken literally. Since birth, Jimin has suffered from Cardiac Arrhythmia. To put it simply; Jimin's heart can beat irregularly, too fast, or too slow, at any given time, and honestly; he's scared. Terrified in fact, because he's about to move into a hospital he's never been too, with people he's never met, and all because he can't make it up a flight of stairs without being incredibly out of breath. A striped, oversized sweater hugs his small form as his leg nervously bounces in his ripped skinny jeans. There's a blue duffle bag at his side, filled to the brim with the essentials, and before another worry can pop into his head the car stops: he has arrived.

Surely the hospital looks better in sunlight, but right now it looks like a haunted asylum. Clouds hung over the grey building like ghosts as rain stained the structures sides. Jimin jumps at the sudden hand on his shoulder before turning around to see a sad smile adorning his mom’s face.

"Come on, sweetie. Let's get you checked in."

-

His room could be worse, he admits, much worse. There were two beds, both of them empty, but one having tousled sheets and various things thrown around the bed. A pair of expensive looking headphones were tangled within the blankets as well as a sleek laptop poking out from under the pillow. A drawn curtain besides the currently vacant bed revealed a much neater looking one; presumably Jimin's. Picking up his heavy belongings he plopped his bag, along with himself, down onto his bed. A smile forced its way onto his face as he looked out the large window by his side in wonder. A green forest, dripping with dew, was shielding the horizon from his gaze. Birds flew over treetops, and flowers peeked up through the tall grass. The back of the hospital was completely overthrown by nature, and Jimin loved it.

Within an hour he was left panting on his bed; the sheets changed to his light blue ones, his soft blankets smelling of home underneath him, his laptop and phone charging on the windowsill, and a small plant (lovingly given to him by his mom) on his bedside table. It was sad that he was so void of breath just from these simple things, really it was, but before he could pity himself any longer the door opened behind him. Turning around he was met with ghostly white skin, and eyes dark as night. Pale and pouty lips opened, and soon the strangers raspy voice could be heard from him as he sat in his wheelchair.

“Hey… are you Jimin?” The boy asked.

“Yea, I’m Jimin. I just got here, are you my roommate?” Jimin answered nervously, situating himself so that he was seated on his bed but facing the other.

“That’d be me. I’m Yoongi. Um, you’re not sensitive to vomit are you?” He asked as he wheeled himself closer to Jimin.

“Not particularly, why?” Jimin studied the boy’s face in awe at his angelic beauty, his sugar white skin.

“I’ve been diagnosed with Peritonitis, basically my insides are inflamed and I throw up sometimes. I just wanted to make sure you’re not too squeamish before you move in.”

“No that’s okay - I mean it’s not okay, but I don’t mind - not that I don’t mind you being in pain - God I’m sorry…” Jimin rambled as he placed his hands over his reddening face. He was so nervous, so very nervous, and before he could panic anymore Yoongi spoke with a surprisingly soft voice.

“Hey… it’s okay, kid. I know it’s scary coming here for the first time, but it’s not too bad. There’s a whole group of us boys on this hall. We go to a “support group” together. You’ll probably join us soon.” Yoongi said, and then he smiled, he actually smiled, and by god Jimin thought his heart stopped then and there.

“Okay, cool. I’m okay now. Sorry about that.” Jimin spoke as he smiled at the stranger.

Before the conversation could deepen a small, old looking nurse came in, and made her way over to Jimin. She introduced herself as his nurse from now on, saying that each day she’ll come and check on his vitals; that sort of thing. Once she left, the door clicking as it closed, Yoongi continued the conversation.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what brought you here?” The other said as he heaved himself onto his bed, wincing in pain occasionally. Opting to just answer instead of asking if he was okay or if he needed help, Jimin responded, “I have Cardiac Arrhythmia. My heart’s all messed up.”

Yoongi hummed in response, situating himself up against the headboard of his bed, and placing his laptop on his skinny legs. Not wanting to disturb him in whatever he was doing, Jimin pulled out his current favorite book, and let the words take him away, far away.

-

At some point the small boy must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew Yoongi was gently shaking him awake. Jimin groaned tiredly and sat up slowly, taking some panicked moments to realise where he was, and then turned to look at Yoongi sitting in his wheelchair.

“Sorry to wake you up, but that group of guys I mentioned earlier are meeting now. I called it a support group but we really just hang out for a while. You should come.” Yoongi asked, secretly hoping that his new adorable roommate would say yes.

“Um, sure!” Jimin chirped with a sleepy smile. Yoongi didn’t know how much of that smile he could take.

The two only made it about ten feet down the bland hall before a nurse stopped Jimin, saying, “Jimin! You should use an oxygen cannula whenever walk somewhere okay?”

Before Jimin could ask what the Hell a cannula was the nurse stuck two little tubes up his nose that were connected to a longer tube tucked behind his ears. She connected the whole thing to an oxygen tank that he could easily pull around with him.

“There!” The woman said with a smile as she clapped her hands. After Jimin thanked her the pair continued down the hall, Jimin dragging the oxygen tank behind him, until they reached a small room to the left. Stepping inside this room was like stepping into another universe. The atmosphere was completely different, filled with laughter and warmth, with the smell of fresh cotton. There was one large window that spanned the length of the room, and books scattered across the floor. The room was already nearly filled to its bursting point, with five boys already seated in a circle on the floor. Jimin realised that he’d be okay here.

One boy had an oxygen cannula as well, and another boy with dirty blonde hair and a box smile (and a somewhat deep voice for his child-like features) announced, “Hey it’s Yoongi hyung! Hyung, who’s that?” The boy questioned as he smiled at Jimin.

“This is Jimin, my new roommate.”

“Hey Jimin!” The other exclaimed as he bounced over to Jimin and shook his hand. Jimin giggled, trying to push away his nerves, and replied with a sweet, “Hello, what’s your name?”

“I’m Tae!” He said with glee, returning the happy smile. Jimin looked down and noticed Tae’s shoes, slippers to be exact, Gucci slippers.

“Hey Jimin!” A boy with a heart shaped smile and orange hair said from the floor, which prompted a chorus of greetings to Jimin. He sat down as carefully as he could without getting tangled in oxygen chords, and smiled around at everybody, taking in their faces. Every one of them was surprisingly good looking, each having their own charm.

“Here I’ll introduce you to everybody.” The orange haired boy said.

“I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi. I’m here cause I have Hemophilia, meaning that my blood doesn’t clot normally. That’s Jin hyung, he’s got Leukemia. That’s Jungkook, he has severe asthma. That’s Tae, he has Epilepsy. That’s Namjoon hyung, he’s recovering from depression. And you know Yoongi hyung!” Hobi finished, clearly having to introduce everyone before. Jimin just nodded and smiled as he tried his best to take in all that information.

“Our rooms are scattered all around this hall so if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” A brunette who Jimin assumed to be Jin spoke with a warm smile. Thinking it only fair to introduce himself too Jimin took a deep breath and replied, “Thank you! As you know I’m Jimin. I have Cardiac Arrhythmia. Um, let’s see, I’m nineteen-”

“Oh you’re a youngin’!” Jin exclaimed with adoration. With a smile Jimin nodded, charming everyone with his cuteness.

-

After about two hours Jimin didn’t ever want to leave this room of safety and comfort. The seven boys had ordered pizza and were all chatting amongst each other. A burnt and solemn orange light from the setting sun cast itself across the room, and once again Jimin found himself smiling for a reason unknown. Taehyung had stuck to his side like glue for the majority of the time, showing him his Gucci slippers and talking about anime. Jimin felt comfortable with Tae almost immediately; like the two were long lost brothers. He had talked to the others two, Hobi had asked Jimin about his family, making him feel cared for and warm. While Yoongi and Namjoon talked about music, or at least that’s what Jimin thinks he heard over all the other cheerful voices, Jin shared some of his (amazing) puns.

“Why can’t you hear a pterodactyl go to the bathroom? Because the “P” is silent.” Before anyone could laugh at his joke Jin was already cackling, face turning red. Jimin covered his mouth as he laughed and fell into Yoongi’s side. Yoongi let out a breathy laugh and asked, “You actually find that funny?”

Jimin nodded, still covering his face with his hands.

“Woah! Your hands are so small and cute!” Hobi chimed. Jimin balled them into fists and shoved them into his lap, but to-no-avail, Tae grabbed his tiny fists and compared them to his own ginormous hands.

“Put your pinky next to mine!” Tae said with a deep laugh resonating through his body. Jimin reluctantly obliged and soon the room erupted with laughters and, “So cute!”

Jimin didn’t mind the embarrassment, didn’t mind the homesickness, because this was his home. And God did he love it.

“Jimin let’s head back to our room. It’s getting a little late and you look pretty tired.” Yoongi commented, his hand on the younger’s shoulder. He was right, Jimin was tired, exhausted actually. After agreeing and bidding everyone goodbye and a good night's sleep, Jimin waited for Yoongi to get situated in his wheelchair, grabbed his oxygen tank, and made his way down the hall. Outside of that small room, that beautiful universe, it was cold. The halls were quiet and dimly lit, the only sound the beeping of various machines to sustain life, but soon the hall was filled with laughter, and giggles, and snorts, as the other boys exited their shelter. he sudden panic melted away, and Jimin thought; as long as he has the boys he’ll be alright.

Their room was freezing and dark as night, the rain drumming off the windows. Jimin flicked the light on after letting Yoongi pass in his wheelchair and visibly shivered.

“You cold?” Yoongi questioned as he tried to maneuver himself into his bed, but before Jimin could even think to answer the older winced and let out a pained groan. Jimin made his way over as quickly as he could without tripping himself in the tangle of tubes helping him breathe, and asked with worry, “Are you okay, hyung? Do you need help?”

Yoongi nodded and breathed harshly, his face still etched with pain. Jimin lifted his arms under Yoongi’s and heaved him up onto the bed, moving the wheelchair out of the way, and sitting next to him to catch his breath. He placed his small hand over his pounding heart, closing his eyes. Regret hit Yoongi as soon as he saw the poor boy, and he said sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have made you do that. Are you alright?”

Jimin opened his eyes and stared at the other’s pale face, skin nearly glistening with blue veins, barely visible in flesh, dark eyes clouded in evident worry.

“Yeah, I’m alright. It doesn’t take much to make me out of breath does it?” Jimin replied with a smile as he tried to hide his fear of his worsening condition. The other merely nodded before saying, “Our bathroom’s right over there,” he pointed to the bathroom at the foot of Jimin’s bed, “you can just shove my stuff aside. I’m already in what I sleep so I’m gonna go to bed surprisingly.”

Jimin replied with a simple, “Okay.” deciding to take note on his hyung’s use of the word “surprisingly.” Ruffling around in his bag he found his grey sweatpants and his oversized hoodie, and after finishing what he needed to do before bed, he shuffled to the other side of the room. Jimin turned around at the other, all tucked in under his blankets, and said, “Goodnight, hyung.”

He flicked the light out, and all was black.

[isgrow]

Lil Baby - Global (Official Music Video)

Watch the music video for “Global” by Lil Baby “Street Gossip” EP featuring “Global” OUT NOW! https://qualitycontrol.lnk.to/StreetGossip

Follow Lil Baby Everywhere: https://www.instagram.com/lilbaby_1/ Tweets by lilbaby4PF https://www.facebook.com/4pflilbaby/

#LilBaby #StreetGossip #Global

[Intro] We global now

[Chorus] Bought the baby Gucci strollers Switched it up, and I went global Can’t play around, I had to grow up 10k on my neck, hell of a glo up These niggas cappin’, that shit blow up My dawg rappin’, hope he blow up I need my checks without no hold ups I put my city on my shoulders I told the truth in every story that I told, I might fuck around and show them

[Verse 1] All of my whips got that new car smell Don’t get it twisted, from the apartments, I just park well I don’t fuck with him, that nigga flossin’ in the voicemail Catch up with him, push up on him, tell him how I feel Made myself a millionaire, only took a year, dawg Thinkin’ about what I been through, I can make a tear fall Late night with them youngins who was creepin’, coulda killed y’all We don’t do that internet beefin’, that’s for bitches, dawg I went up to space, so they hatin’, they can’t lift off I can make your bitch eat my kids, every drip drop I come from the trenches, we can’t come outside in flip flops I done came so far, sittin’ on the floor, watchin’ the tip off

[Chorus] Bought the baby Gucci strollers Switched it up, and I went global Can’t play around, I had to grow up 10k on my neck, hell of a glo up These niggas cappin’, that shit blow up My dawg rappin’, hope he blow up I need my checks without no hold ups I put my city on my shoulders I told the truth in every story that I told, I might fuck around and show them

[Verse 2] I put my all into this shit I worked so hard to get my wrist It broke my heart, but I didn’t quit I had to ball when I was six I got ‘em all on my drip But we just move, we gon’ get flipped, yeah I had to hustle for a mil’, yeah And now I’m hustlin’ in these M’s, yeah They jockin’ D2 on the years Whenever they call, I let ‘em hear Them lawyers gon’ clock ‘em if they steal And let them know I keep it real, yeah Sometimes I feel like the floor is givin’ in on me I worked so hard, but I can’t stop, ‘cause they be gettin’ on me I tried to holla, she gon’ talk, but now her friend want me I see through all them

[Chorus] Bought the baby Gucci strollers Switched it up, and I went global Can’t play around, I had to grow up 10k on my neck, hell of a glo up These niggas cappin’, that shit blow up My dawg rappin’, hope he blow up I need my checks without no hold ups I put my city on my shoulders I told the truth in every story that I told, I might fuck around and show them

Music video by Lil Baby performing Global. © 2019 Quality Control Music, LLC, under exclusive license to UMG Recordings, Inc.

http://vevo.ly/cImfnR

being published on http://mybecause.com/lil-baby-global-official-music-video/

[album-of-the--year-blog]

Johnny Cradle - ‘Johnny Cradle’

By Tseliso Monaheng

The day began with either a text or a call.

Saki of Johnny Cradle wanted to know whether I’d be available later for a recording session -- to hang, and to possibly snap images of the process.

I obliged.

It was during the first weekend of December 2016, on the Saturday Salut was being laid down. Chris (Lombard, former guitarist) was leaving for Cape Town soon; a permanent arrangement. All of his parts had to be recorded before the new week as a result.

I arrived at the studio, which is located somewhere past Jozi’s more interesting CBD and heads towards its languid Northern suburbs, ready to bang my head to the music.

And bang I did, somewhat.

                                                             *

The story goes that Saki needed a name to perform with during an event in the Eastern Cape (he’s from Mdantsane originally). His real name Sakumzi Qumana wasn’t enticing, so Johnny Cradle became the moniker he chose; the one that stuck.

It’s come to mean the everyday man: The hustler; the blue collar worker; the suit-and- tie corporate, white-collar homie. All of these manifestations of men, black and beautiful, have lives outside of what they are known for.

For Saki, it’s about being present for his daughter, above all else; but it’s also to do with being a loving partner; a true school, self-taught illustrator; and the vocalist and composer of what is now a trio completed by Soshanguve-born drummer and web designer Tebogo Mosane, and Lazola Ndamase -- father, deejay, producer.

Salut, the song recorded during that December weekend in 2016, is a personal document of the intersections in their lives, and a fist-tight, chest-out moment paying homage to the folks before them -- Saki’s struggle hero father, who besides being an active member in Poqo, later imprisoned on Robben Island, was involved in criss-crossing the country, transporting goods essential to the daily survival of South African households; DJ Laz’s grandparents, who raised him a church boy while his mother lived and worked elsewhere as a teacher; and Tebogo’s mother, who had to leave her family behind to seek out better opportunities for her offspring.

“We talk about people who are under-paid. People who are carrying the nation: Cleaners, gold miners, people who transport us every day,” says Tebogo. “There’s a line where we say keep your 20 bucks handy. Ask anyone who works a 9-to- 5 job how many times they’ve asked their colleagues for 20 Rands to go home, or to come back to work [the next day],” he goes on, reflecting on the precarious existence of people all over the continent and across the black Diaspora.

                                                                 *

The band’s evolved over many years, in different cities, to become the three-man outfit it is today. Their self-titled debut album has also just been released and in 10 songs, realises many of the themes Sakumzi’s been visiting through the years on EPs, remix project and unreleased songs.

But where previous projects sought more outward-leaning approaches to the music, fusing multiple instrumentation to create layer upon layer of sonic motifs, suggesting different directions to advance the message, the music on Johnny Cradle is straightforward and stripped to the bare essence -- the drum, and the bass.

It’s a motif, inspired by roots reggae music, which Saki’s been exploring since end-2013. He wasn’t convinced that he still wanted to pursue the dream, so a friend talked him into locking that entire December down to produce and record. A couple of songs emerged from that session, most notably uLate.

The autobiographical joint is the last on the 10-track project. It ties everything on the album together, and serves as the perfect accompaniment to album opener Mahambelala, which starts off with a vocal sample, courtesy of DJ Laz, proclaiming that they are ready to progress to some steps which are a bit more difficult, before Saki's fingers hit the keys and Stebu's drums set the groove off.

Mahambelala is about how the youngin from the Eastern Cape on uLate wound up in the city of bright lights, confused and somewhat bruised, lonely and searching for self in temporary relief. It’s the antithesis of the Men Like Us instance, which sees the all-encompassing character Johnny Cradle finally settle down and own up for prior fuckups.

Elsewhere on the album are Asidlali and the aforementioned Salut, which complement one another because of the work-oriented we-do- what-we- gotta, ballsy and unassuming attitude.

Saki’s straightforward style of writing lends a directness to the songs’ messages that might otherwise go unnoticed, had the approach been different. His pop culture references are dripping in Ebonics and kasi slang.

Find him giving a tongue-in- cheek shoutout to Heavy D; or fire off a sonic dap to Thembi Seete’s cryptic verse on It’s About Time; or a head-nod to his and our kwaito heroes M’du and TKZee as he sing-raps lines like phakamis’ izandla zakho, lapho sik’ bone from the latter group’s Magesh which appears on their Halloween album.

But there’s the other side which demonstrates that though Johnny Cradle is a principled disciple of life, he’s also not afraid to boogie-woogie in the club; to get crunk and enjoy life.

Songs like Sadakwa and Bangphethe best illustrate this complexity. The former song also gives a head-nod to Oda Meesta.

There’s kwaito here, mixed with roots, and hip hop, and the polyphonic vocal tones of boys who go up the mountain and return, a few weeks or months later, as men.

This project is every bit the 90s hip hop baby’s dream, completed by a self-awareness that illustrates what happens when boys grow up and decide to introspect.

Tseliso Monaheng is the corewreckah. Follow him @nemesisinc and support his work HERE.

[13uswntimagines]

Terrible plans paved with good intentions (Mal x Reader)

Request: R and mal are secretly dating so one of the other youngins hits on R all the time and we get to see a jealous mal?

Authors note: This one was like uber fun to write, so i really hope you enjoy it. Also, Reader is used to lots of physical contact and affection from the youngins. Anyway, Enjoy! hit me up with requests, questions or if you just wanna say hi!

The youngins were concerned. Very concerned. You and Mal were acting strangely. The two of you were always together, and the young forward seemed to be the only person in the team with the ability to get you to crack a smile. It was obvious from the way that the two of you interacted that you liked each other. The problem was that both of you seemed to be too chicken to do anything about it. 

Hell, Emily had even asked you point blank if you were dating Mal, to which you had snorted and walked away. They just wanted you guys to be happy, and the one thing that would make you and Mal the happiest would be if you were dating. So it seemed that the only option was for them to meddle to get the two of you together. 

“Y/n and Mal are either blind or oblivious”

“Or both,” Emily snorted, as she watched you chase Mal around the field, trying to steal back the ball you had been messing around with.

“She lets her borrow her snapbacks and everything,” Lindsey smirked as you tackled Mal to the ground, and she grabbed your signature hat off your head. You just smiled down at the girl, placing a kiss on her forehead before standing and going back to juggling the soccer ball. 

“Are you three thinking what I’m thinking?” Emily smiled at Lindsey, Sam, and Rose wiggling her eyebrows. This was the perfect opportunity to meddle. The perfect opportunity to both prank the two of you and get you to finally admit your feelings. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, I want nothing to do with it. Last time we messed with Y/n she almost ripped our heads off,” Sam said raising her hands. She wanted nothing to do with whatever scheme Emily’s diabolical mind thought up, she still had mental scars from how scary you were when you were angry. How you had taken every opportunity you could to make practice the next day horrible for all of them. 

“That’s because we ruined her favorite shirt,” Lindsey rolled her eyes. This wouldn’t end up like that, as you would be extremely happy about your newfound relationship. 

“So now you just wanna ruin her friendship with Mal,” Rose laughed, quirking an eye up at team blond. She was pretty sure you would rather have Mal as a friend than nothing at all, and she knew Mal felt the same. You were both terrified of losing your friend, and getting over that wasn’t something that could (or should) be rushed. 

“No, we wanna make them more than friends,” Emily wined, waving her arms wildly. You both felt the same so why should you have to wait?

“I’m out,” Sam said firmly, seconded by Rose’s “Me too!”. They would rather watch you dance around your feelings than suffer the wrath of a pissed off you and Mal. 

“Losers,” Lindsey called after them as they jogged away. She and Em didn’t need their help anyway. So, the plan to get the star forwards together began. What they didn’t know was that you and Mal were much more than friends...

****

You panted on the field, walking as a cool down from the intense scrimmage you had just participated in. You had been against Emily, Kelley, and Becky, and it was a fucking nightmare. And with JJ in their midfield, you had spent a lot of time trying to out-maneuver the women. 

In ninth-two degree heat, trying to score had taken a lot out of you. It also had sweat dripping down your forehead, which you were dabbing with the bottom of your tank top. 

“Hey hot stuff, you look like a fucking rockstar today,” Emily jogged up beside you, winking and swatting at your exposed abs. You instantly dropped your tank top.

“Thanks, Em, you looked pretty good too,” You laughed at the defender, patting her head, before returning your gaze to the forward that had stolen your heart. 

You made to jog off but were stopped by Emily’s hand in your arm, subtly squeezing your bicep. 

“It’s kinda warm out here isn’t it?” She asked, fluttering her eyelashes at you. 

You glanced down at were her fingers were testing your muscles, a light sheen of red covering your cheeks from being blatantly hit on. Your mind raced for a way to let her down easy, and hopefully not ruin your friendship or the team dynamic. 

“Um, I guess,” You started, your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. You carefully pulled your arm away to rub the back of your neck, sending help me eyes to your girlfriend from across the field. 

When you turned back around, Emily had managed to pull her tank top clean off and wrap it like a towel around her neck. Your eyes widened and your mouth went dry and you purposefully stared at her in the eyes. “whoa, why are you taking your shirt off,” you covered your face with your hands, much like a two-year-old playing hide and seek. 

“Cause I’m hot, don’t you agree?” Emily smirked at you, nearly giggling at how adorable you were (and not missing the glare that Mal was sending her way). It was also kinda cute how you refused to look anywhere but towards Mal, the ground, or her eyes. 

“That-, um-, I-, uh,” you stuttered, turning completely away from the woman. Yes, you were in love with Mal, but you also had eyes, and the women on the national team were very attractive. You felt like you were in high school talking to a pretty cheerleader and not one of your best friends. 

“Relax Y/n,” She murmured, her eyebrows furrowing at how flustered you were. She didn’t think that something this simple would turn you into a stuttering, blushing mess. You had a reputation as a flirt, so she was surprised by your reaction. 

“I’m gonna go,” you muttered softly, nearly sprinting towards where Lindsey was standing with Mal, wrapping the smaller girl up in your arms. 

It was interesting the way that Mal’s fingers ran through your hair, and you just melted into her. How the fuck could you not realize that you were in love with her. 

**** 

After your very strange encounter with Emily on the pitch, you had hoped that the weight session would be uneventful. You had gotten to cuddle with Mal on the bus ride and you were supposed to be paired with her for the workout. What you didn’t know was that it’s was Lindsey’s turn to try out Emily’s plan.

Sure, Mal had glared at them, and you two had been a little too touchy-feely in the ride over, but you still hadn’t confessed your feelings for one another. At least that’s what team blond thought.

So here you were, standing in front of the squat rack, sending confused eyes to Mal in the mirror, your tongue lolling out the side to get her to giggle. You were so busy making faces at Mal that you didn’t notice Lindsey approach you. 

“Hey sexy, need a spot?” She whispered into your ear, her lips caressing the shell as she wrapped her arms around your waist. 

You jumped at the feeling, an unpleasant shiver running down your back. “Shit,”

“Whoa there,” She murmured, kissing your cheek as she steadied the two of you. Your cheeks flushed when you realized just how close to you she was, and you immediately pulled away. 

“Umm, I, thought you were paired with Emily,” You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck. 

“I switched with Mal,” Lindsey smirked at you, not missing how you looked longingly over her shoulder at the said woman. 

“So, need a spot?” Lindsey asked, gesturing towards the squat rack. 

“Yeah, I guess,” You sighed, wincing slightly at Mal’s glare. You were in trouble with her and you knew it. But it really wasn’t your fault that people were hitting on you, you weren’t the one who didn’t wanna tell all your friends you were dating.

You grabbed the bar, positioning it on your shoulders, and Lindsey stepped into position behind you. Except instead of the normal spot, she wrapped her hands around your waist, her fingers playing with the hem at the front of your workout shirt. 

“Hey Lindsey, you don’t have to grab my waist, I got it,” You stuttered our, your pink cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red. 

“I know, but I like being close to you,” She hummed into your ear, placing a kiss on the back of your neck. You thanked God that she was standing there because you dropped the bar at the action. You scrubbed your hands over your eyes, barely able to get the “I-, um-, I-I think I’m done,” out of your mouth before you escaped. 

Across the gym, Mal watched the interaction with disdain. Her grip on the dumbbell tightening incremental with every move Lindsey made. How could you stand there and blush while Lindsey was making a move on you? 

Mal knew that you held no romantic feelings for Lindsey or Emily, but it didn’t make her feel any less jealous when they were practically throwing themselves at you. 

“If you grip that bar any harder Mal Pal, you’re going to pull a muscle,” Emily snickered, shivering slightly at Mal’s deadly glare. 

“Shut up Sonnett,” She snapped. 

“Whoa there, careful or someone might think you’re jealous,” The blond smirked, eyeing the way Mal was sharing glances with your very wide eyes in the mirror. She never knew that you were so easy to fluster. 

“Whatever,” Mal scoffed, dropping the weight and heading towards the locker room, and Sonnett wasn’t even surprised when you followed mere seconds after. 

*****

Emily and Lindsey waited exactly 10 minutes before heading to the locker room, hoping that maybe you had pulled your head out of your ass and asked out Mal. 

They carefully crept into the locker room, but instead of being met with the preferable sight of You mad Mal cuddled up together, they were met with you sitting on the bench with your head in your hands and Mal pacing like there was no tomorrow. If the scowl on her face meant anything, you two weren’t having a good conversation. 

“That’s not my fault Mal,” You said far too calmly, scrubbing your eyes with your hands in frustration. 

“Well you sure as hell didn’t try and stop them,” Mal growled back, running her hands through her hair and pulling angrily at the strands. Who gave Lindsey and Emily the right to hit on you? To touch you?

“Yeah, because my repeated attempts to get your attention weren’t a sign that I needed help,” You nearly yelled one exasperation, standing and blocking her path, hands placed firmly in your hips. 

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a gay mess around our teammates everything would have been fine. You practically let them grope you,” She grumbled, waving her hands in dramatically. Yes, your red cheeks and stuttering were adorable, but only when it was happening with her. Sonnett and Lindsey shouldn’t get to experience that. 

You sighed. It wasn’t like you could tell the women to hit the road without telling them that you were dating. And you didn’t want to be rude to them, they were your friends. 

“What do you exp-..” You started softly, only to be cut off by her soft lips claiming your own. You melted into her, letting her tongue explore your mouth with ease. 

She pulled away suddenly, keeping her forehead on your own. “You’re mine Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n got it,” 

“Mm yes ma’am,” You mumbled, connecting your lips again. They were like your drug, you just couldn’t get enough. 

“When the fuck did this happen?” Lindsey exclaimed, and you and Mal jumped apart, a bright red blush coloring your cheeks. 

“Like 6 months ago,” Mal stated fondly, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into her embrace. You immediately relaxed against her. 

“Holy shit,” Lindsey said breathlessly, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“See, my plan worked,” Emily smirked, nudging her bond counterpart with her shoulder. Lindsey rolled her eyes at the woman. You had clearly not appreciated their advances on you. 

“No your plan made them fight, they were already together,” Lindsey snarked back, glaring at the other woman, and sending you a sorry smile. 

“So that’s why you guys were turning my baby into a gay mess?” Mal asked, crossing her arms and staring at Lindsey and Emily expectantly, while you shrunk behind her. You loved Mal and no one hitting on you was gonna change that, plus she was hot when she was agitated (as long as it wasn’t with you).