#travis head catch

[targetstudy]

Travis Head Biography, Age, Height, Wife, Stats, IPL, Scores, Wiki & More

Travis Head is a famous international Australian cricketer. he is the left-hand batsman and he is also a part-time bowler. Travis played all the formats of cricket like T20, One Day International 90(ODI), and Test.

Head was played for Craigmore Cricket Club and Trinity College.

Head played National under 19 at the age of 17 for Australia. after 1 year later he made his debut for South Australia in 2012.

In 2012, Head played his first Under-19 Cricket World Cup. This World Cup head was done beautifully batting and bowling.

Head was part of the inaugural Ageas Bowl International Cricket Academy in 2013.

The head became 3rd Australian player who scored a double century in a List A match in 2015.

In January 2016, Head played his first international T20 match against India.

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[killeroos]

CWC23 Final - India v Australia Travis Head catches Rohit Sharma

[benniclark]

A little bit of noodling from the Dunes dudes; Doodling, if you will.

[dogwittaablog]

and nolan doesn’t cheer for the Jets so it’s even funnier they were beaten by the flyers

Hahaha no fr which makes it even more obvious that him creeping out his shell to attend the game was all rooted motivation to see his former lover… can’t tell me otherwise.

[catssluvr]

jealous, natalie scatorccio

natalie scatorccio x fem!reader (1.5k words) (request)

in which nat’s been spending a lot of time with travis hunting and you get jealous.

warnings: r is a bit of a jerk at first, jealousy, bsfs to lovers, fluff <3

⭑.ᐟ ⭑.ᐟ

You watch from afar as Natalie and Travis prepare to leave for a hunt, the smile on her face that is usually directed to you leaves a burning in your throat, suddenly feeling like it's too hard to breathe.

It's been happening more and more, them being together as you and Natalie stop doing the things you used to do. You can't blame them, there is food that needs to be found and if it weren't for them no one would be alive by now. But you do hate yourself a little for not having been good at using the gun.

It should be you getting to spend time with her, not Travis. Her best friend. Though you aren't naïve enough to believe your feelings for her are completely platonic.

You turn away as you feel the tears burning your eyes, hoping that not looking at them will make you feel better. It doesn't, but it's enough to stop the tears from spilling. You don't know how you'd be able to explain them if anyone saw. You miss the way Nat's smile falters when you don't say goodbye to her.

A hand on your shoulder has you turning back, catching a glimpse of your favorite blonde hair before it disappears into the woods.

"Hey, are you okay?" Van asks, eyebrows pulled together in worry. You think for a second that she might have caught on you, she can't have.

"Yeah, all good, Van." You force a small smile onto your face, cringing at how fake you already know it looks.

"Wanna go catch some berries with me and Tai later?” It’s a hopeful question, you realize.

"No, you guys go. I think i'll just head to the lake and hang there." It's painful to be brushing everyone off like this, but you really crave a moment of peace, alone.

"Okay.. you do know you can talk to us if you're not okay, yeah? I know Nat not being around sucks for you." She says as if testing the waters, not knowing how to approach the matter.

"What makes you think this is about Nat?" Your skin feels hot as you turn defensive, taking a step back.

"So there is something going on." Van presses.

"No." You barely try to lie, hugging your arms to your torso and shrinking in yourself.

"Look, i just thought that-"

"You thought wrong." You spat, walking out into the lake's direction and leaving Van no time to say anything else.

You spend most of your afternoon by the lake, swimming until your fingers are numb from the cold water and then sitting close to the water, lost in thought while throwing rocks.

As soon as you had reached the lake earlier, all of the anger you once felt had dissipated, feeling immediately remorseful for snaping at Van.

Knowing someone else knew about your feelings for Nat could only mean you weren't very good at hiding them and that was a thought that terrified you. With your friendship hanging on a thread, she would hate you for this if she found out.

A part of you really wants to go wait for Natalie on the cabin porch like you always do, but the other tells you it's just going to hurt even more to see her come back with him, the same smile from earlier on her face.

The sound of boots against the pebbles makes you alarmed enough to turn, regret filling you as you see Nat approach you. You turn back towards the lake, taking a steady breath and again failing to notice the way her face falls.

"Hey." Nat says gently, sitting next to you.

"Hi." You avoid her eyes as you greet.

"You weren't at the cabin to greet me back like usual." She states before leaning her head towards you, locking her eyes with yours, "Got worried."

"Just forgot, i guess." You shrug your shoulders, starting to pick at your nails once you hear her let out a big sigh.

"Do want to go for a swim before dinner? A dive sounds good but i don't wanna go alone." Nat bumps her shoulder to yours, smiling in a way that reminds you too much of earlier.

"Actually, i should go help with dinner." You find yourself saying before you can think. "Maybe another day though." You add meekly.

"Alright, are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" She huffs, eyes searching your face for any sign.

"Nothing's going on, Natalie." You answer, regretting the way she flinches at the way you use her whole name.

"Yes, yes there is. Why are you so distant- did i do something?" She pushes and you can't help but feel tempted by her exasperated face and the fact that you caused it.

But you can't just tell her. You're tired, and just as scared as everyone else so you can't afford to lose your best friend because of having feelings for her.

"Nothing's wrong. You're not really around to notice, anyway." You can't really help as it bubbles out of your chest, the bottled up words begging to escape.

"Yeah, maybe cause i'm trying to help us fucking survive." She snaps, getting up in a hurry and starting to walk towards the cabin, but she turns around after a few steps.

"Here, i thought that it would be nice to get these stupid flowers for you." Nat spits sourly before reaching into her bag, throwing the pretty bunch of wilds daisies into your lap.

You stay silent for good moment, hearing her steps fade until they finally they disappear. "Fuck." You whisper to yourself, bringing your hands to your face.

It's only later, after getting ignored by Nat for the whole dinner, that you get the opportunity of a moment alone with her.

She's siting outside on the porch, her back to you but you can see enough to know she's lost in thought. You feel bad to disturb her peace, but the thought of having her ignore you for one more second is eating you up. Though you know you deserve it.

Nat doesn't turn as you open the front door, probably aware that it's you.

"Hey." No answer.

"Nat, i'm so sorry." You say, barely above a whisper as you sit on the steps beside her. She finally turns to look you in the eyes, gulping as she waits for you to continue. God, this is harder than you thought it would be.

"I miss you." You state, "Earlier you asked what's wrong." You add quickly, mentally facepalming at how bad you are at this.

"You miss me so you push me away?" Her expression shows confusion but you feel more and more encouraged to continue because at least she's finally talking to you.

"No! It's just that you've been hanging out with Travis so much that i thought you might not want to do stuff with me anymore." You try not to sound petty but it is quite impossible when that is what's going on.

"That's really godamn stupid." She answers almost too seriously but her voice expresses a smile, you can't help but chuckle with her.

"I know, i've been such a jerk to you. And i am sorry." You reach for her hand, almost flinching at the way it's cold from being outside. You wish you could just warm her hands up whenever you want.

"So... you were jealous of Travis?" Nat teases, lacing her fingers with yours and looking down at your hands with a tiny smile.

"I guess i was. But don't flatter yourself, Scatorccio." There's really no need to try and lie at this point, it's either leaving her confused forever or try to fight for it.

"I wish it was you out there with me, you know?" Her gaze is on yours as she speaks, an honest tone to her words. "I mean you're my best friend but it's more than that. It's different."

Your heart feels like it's going to come of your throat for a second, the hope you had lost long ago slowly coming back up. "Different?"

"I don't really give flowers to Travis." Her smile widens, eyes, flickering to your nose, and then to your lips for a glimpse of a second. She suddenly feels really close, way closer then when you sat down beside her.

"Right, the flowers. They're lovely Nat- i did keep them by the-"

"Shut up." She cuts off your rambling, hands letting go of yours to cup your face tentatively before bringing her lips to yours.

Something warms lights up in your chest, making you still before you bring your hands up to hold the back of her head, fingers deep into her hair blonde hair. Nat hums against your lips, fingers sliding down your arms before finding your waist and settling there.

"That different enough for you?" She practically giggles, nuzzling her nose into your cheek.

"Yeah." You nod, not quite sure what you're answering to while lost in a slightly hazy feeling. Your head drops to her shoulder, a comfortable silence filling the air.

"I might have an apology to give to Van."

[dillydally6969]

SOVEREIGN .ᐟ 𝓛OTTIE MATTHEWS

♱ your girlfriend thinks looney lottie is a bad influence on you… maybe she’s right?

♱ cw; harsh language, cheating (you’re both dicks), slight!nsfw but no smut, toxic!nat

“really? for the fourth time this week?” nat scoffed. you had a feeling she wasn’t very pleased with the suggestion, but what could possibly give you that idea?

“yeah, i like talking to lottie. i mean, can she be a little batshit sometimes? yes. but i feel better after hanging out with her.”

the blonde rolled her eyes, hoisting the rifle over her head and around her back. she shook her head, grabbing a jacket from her sleeping bag. “lottie’s a schizo four months off her meds, baby, whatever comes out of her mouth is literally a chemical imbalance leaking from her brain.”

nat had her own opinions on mental illness--ultra-critical.

“she just asked me to join her for her foraging trip, it’s not like i’m on my knees worshipping whatever she’s preaching.” you argued, “why’re you getting mad at me for it?”

nat sighed, “i’m not getting mad at you. all i’m saying, is i don’t think it’s a good idea spending so much time with lottie.”

she caressed your shoulder, hand slipping down after a gentle squeeze. you followed her to the front door of the cabin, freed from the last sleeping yellowjacket upon tai waking everybody up, leaving you and nat alone as she got ready for hunting.

“then spend some time with me! i haven’t had a proper conversation with you since the first night, i miss you.”

she scoffed, looking at you like she’s saying, ‘seriously’?

“i have a whole soccer team and three testosterone filled assholes counting on me shooting bucks to stay alive. wasting around isn’t exactly an option.”

“spending time with your girlfriend isn’t wasting around. y’know, i really don’t like how travis’ nasty character rubbing off on you.” you pursed your lips, crossing your arms.

“keep it down!” she shushed you. “don’t talk about him like that, he lost his dad, for fuck’s sake.” she snapped, “god, you’re the one who’s been wasting off.”

jesus christ, since when did she turn so cruel?

she exhaled deeply through her nose. looking over her shoulder quickly, she grabbed your hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“please stay away from that fucking psycho.”

the plead forced a wretched twist in your stomach, but still, you weren’t one to deny the antler queen’s request.

“i’m sorry, nat, but she won’t take no for an answer.”

she immediately let go of your hand, her jaw tightening. you felt your chest tighten at her action, teeth gnawing at your lip. “fine, whatever. but call it what it is, because you’re kissing at her feet just as much as those mindless goons who thinks she’s some fucking god. don’t come to me when you realize she just gets off on the fucking thrill of attention.”

she slammed the door shut behind her, leaving you alone in the hollow cabin. you sighed, hearing nat call for travis before the two left camp for the day.

eventually, you revealed yourself, shooting jackie a tight-lipped smile as you passed her sitting on the porch.

“y/n!” lottie softly called, “there you are. i’ve been waiting.”

your sour expression of worry immediately lifted, and on came a smile you catch yourself wearing often around lottie. you’ve been feeling burdened by nat’s bitter attitude towards the entire situation. she’s been lashing out at you more often, she will go days sometimes brushing you off and finding chores to do just so she doesn’t have to deal with you.

she hated when you’d ask if the two of you could just ‘walk and talk’. she didn’t like talking about feelings… or in general.

lottie was so bright, always eager to spend time with you.

she was the one asking you about your day when nat spends her nights hanging around the martinez brothers instead.

and she was the one making you feel wanted. needed. like you were oxygen she needed to breathe in, or she’d die.

“i’ve fetched the basket, i was wondering if you were ready for our trip today.” she queried gently, her fingers dancing across your shoulder to run her nails down your arm. “or if you were still planning on hunting with nat and travis.”

you shook your head. “no, they’ve left already.”

the way the corners of her eyes softened upon that moment, you swore she was almost relieved they had gone.

“alright then. shauna has kindly introduced a path down towards the creak her and jackie have discovered recently. i want to see if there are berries and such growing around.” she nodded towards an opening into the woods just behind the meat shed. “shall we break away for the day then?”

you beamed, mirroring her excitement. “i’d love to.”

“and you sincerely believe your bond has been hindered by her duties as a hunter?”

you hummed at lottie’s question. the two of you strolled side by side, elbows brushing occasionally as you ranted on about how you felt with nat’s recent drifting.

“i don’t know. sometimes i just think she’s sick of me.”

“well, i find it hard to believe anybody would grow sick of you.” she nudged you, chuckling. the remark, though just casual banter, made heat flush straight to your cheeks. you turned away to hide the tint of colour from the taller girl.

she smirked, hoping the image of you getting flustered would be burnt into her memories forever.

“what else has she done that’s troubling you, y/n?”

“she just doesn’t… talk to me anymore. it’s always travis this, hunting that, i just--like this morning, she was making all these mean comments and i told her i didn’t like how travis was rubbing off on her, she defended him!” you scoffed lightly, “i mean, i understand he just lost his father, but she’s just been such a trying person to care about lately, i feel lonely.”

the taller suddenly fell silent, and your heart skipped a beat.

it was always like this with lottie, you never realize you’ve over-shared until it was too late.

you let your guard down around her, but you loved the ease.

“i see,” she murmured, her fingers drumming against the strap of the basket. she seemed to hesitate before she spoke again, “does she… say anything about me in particular?”

your breath hitched; how did she know?

upon your struggle to stammer out a response, lottie giggled. she flashed you a small smile. “it’s quite obvious nat dislikes me, she isn’t exactly subtle with her mannerisms,” she joked lightly, “but i do understand her overprotective nature when it comes to you, the two of you are quite… close.”

“it’s--well--!” you were panicking. she caught you off guard.

nat didn’t really feel comfortable announcing anything about your relationship. she was waiting for things to die down and simmer into a less tense atmosphere at the very least.

it wasn’t like you were against it, but it narrowed the window you had for moments you get alone.

still, you shouldn’t be baffled an observant person like lottie noticed those stolen glances and hushed affection.

“you know, i’m here for you, y/n. however you need me.”

you do know. it’s all you think about when nat goes off with travis alone for hours. it’s why you feel less guilty, why you allow yourself to drift away from your sinking, hidden situation with nat and into lottie’s open arms.

“thanks, lot,” you answered, averting your gaze.

does lottie know about you two? shit, nat’s gonna be pissed.

“ah, here we are.” lottie gasped, stumbling ahead through a some bushes she pushed through into a tiny clearing.

you heard the soothing flush of flowing water, accompanied by lottie’s deep inhale. you took a good look around, soaking in the serenity of this little haven; it was absolutely breath-taking.

whilst lottie bent to lower her hand to graze the rippling water, you remained standing where you had.

however beautiful this oasis was, all you could see was lottie.

she looked so carefree, so in tune with everything that engulfed you. the way she fell into place immediately, like she had been here a million times before, like she was meant to fit right where she was. she was truly breathtaking.

“would you like to join me for a little break?” she asked, sitting by the creak with her knees to her chest. she patted the lakeshore right by her, setting the basket behind her.

“what about the berries?” you chuckled nervously.

lottie shrugged, nibbling on her bottom lip. her eyes raked you up and down briefly, if you weren’t staring at her so intently, you would’ve missed it. her nose twitched just the slightest. “the berries can wait. i want to talk with you.”

god, her smile was so warm and inviting. who could say no?

as you sat, your knees would brush. you could have sworn she was moving closer with each time she laughed at something you’d say (that wasn’t even funny) and swayed as she nudged you playfully. and when you’d go off about something jackie had said or tai and van being suspiciously cute, you could feel her eyes stripping you down.

her gaze was hot against your skin, you felt your cheeks burning when you’d catch her unwavering eyes.

“what?” you gasped, “do i have something on my face?”

she tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. she suddenly leant in close, her breath kissing your hot cheeks. her big, doe eyes ran across your features. she pulled back, humming with the faintest hint of a smirk. “no. not that i can see.”

“wha--what was that?” you squealed, leaning back.

“what was what?” lottie cocked her head aside.

“the--you were so close to my face!” oh my god, you could hear the shake in your voice, you sounded so pathetic. all you could hear was your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

“yes?” she replied, “is that a problem…?”

you don’t know how to answer; was it a problem? you didn’t exactly mind being close to lottie, you enjoyed the warmth that radiated from her as a matter of fact. but you’d burn up whenever her fingertips lingered on your skin a little too long.

“i’m sorry,” lottie sighed, backing away. her lips pouted slightly, her doe eyes giving you a look you couldn’t quite ignore. “it wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.

“no!” you yelled almost a little too fast, “you didn’t.”

the sound of the water rushing over smooth stones was soothing, and the cool breeze carried the fresh scent of pine and earth. the air is crisp, but the warmth of lottie’s body kept you comfortable.

“good, that is the last thing i would ever want," she said, breaking the quiet. her voice is soft, but teasing "i’m very glad you agreed to come with me today. i was worried i’ve been too forward lately with my invitations.”

you glanced up at her, frowning slightly in confusion. you gnawed at your lip, chewing back your nerves.

“lot, i enjoy the time we spend together, so don’t say that.”

she stepped closer, her boots made a soft sound against the dirt. "well, i must confess. it’s not just that," she continued, voice dipping into a lighter tone. "there’s something about you... so effortlessly calm and... cute."

she let the word hang in the air, studying your reaction.

you blinked, unsure how to respond. "cute?" you stammered.

lottie laughed softly, her breath warm against your ear. her hand palmed yours on the ground, fingers slipping through the crevices of yours. "yes, cute. you don’t notice it, do you?" She tilted her head slightly, the edges of her eyes softening. "there is this charm about you. makes it hard to look away.”

your heart skipped, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks flush hotter. "thank you," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

the way she was looking at you, it made your stomach knot.

Lottie’s grin widens. "everybody notices as well," she said gently, leaning in closer. "so shy… so eager to please.”

oh my god, what the fuck is happening right now?

you swallowed, your throat dry as your mind raced. you can't figure out what to say or do, the mixture of her proximity and her words leaving you utterly flustered.

before you can even gather your thoughts, she leant in fully, her lips brushing yours softly. the kiss is light, like she knew of the risks regarding her actions. it’s over in an instant, but the sensation lingered--a soft warmth, a tender sweetness that took your breath away. you felt guilt and shame shower you, because you didn’t want it to end.

you blinked at her, completely stunned. lottie pulled back slightly, her gaze shot down at your parted lips. the tip of her nose brushed yours, and there she remained.

“you are so much more than that,” she whispered, her other hand coming up to cup your cheek. “but i’m in no hurry to make you realize that.”

your heart was pounding in your chest, your face burning.

lottie watched you for a moment, the teasing glint in her eyes giving way to something deeper. something you can’t quite name. she straightened up, but her hand lingered near yours, almost as if waiting for you to reach out.

you just sat there, breathless, in between her arms.

the hike back to camp bled into a blur, and your heart still raced from what happened by the creek. lottie walked beside you, her presence almost magnetic, but you can't help but feel distracted, the kiss replaying in your mind over and over again.

you’re not sure what to make of it, and honestly, you don’t know how to act around lottie anymore.

the entire way, she continued bantering and being lottie.

how could she be so normal? how is she not freaking out?

plagued by these unanswered questions swirling in your head, the things she said went in one ear and out the other.

though, she grabbed your hand whenever the shell of your knuckles would brush against each other. and as you struggled to hold her eyes for too long without flushing, she couldn’t help but giggle at your physical reactions to her touch.

as she set the berries she collected (you were too gay panicked to help) down in the pantry, your feet instinctively followed.

“thank you for your help today,” she grinned, “i had a very good time.” she leant in, hands grabbing the sides of your arms, before pecking you on the cheek. “i hope you enjoyed yourself as much as i have. if you need to talk about anything you want, i’ll be around.”

damn, it felt like getting blue-balled. like her lips were still ghosting yours. she tasted so sweet, such a soft contrast to what nat usually rushed into.

when you finally strolled back out towards the campfire, the first thing you saw was nat sitting by the fire, her hair strapped beneath her headband, laughing at something travis just said. that laugh of hers was usually familiar, comforting... but tonight it felt different. there’s something about the way she was leaning toward him, the way her eyes shone when she looked at him that made something inside you tighten.

you tried shaking it off, but it left a bad taste in your mouth.

nat’s smile diminished as she notices you approach, her eyes wavering like she got caught doing something she shouldn’t.

as you got closer, you noticed how travis’s hand was slid away by nat from where it rested on her thigh before. her back angled away from him, and both their shoulders tensed.

"hey," nat called out, giving you a tight-lipped smile. "i was wondering when you’d be back."

you caught sight of lottie far behind nat and travis. she conversed with akilah about something, listening intently, but her eyes flickered up when she felt somebody’s gaze.

lottie’s smile was easy, but there's something unreadable in her eyes as she glanced at you before returning her attention to akilah. you almost forgot your girlfriend was watching you.

"we found a few things. nothing special."

you forced a smile, but it felt thin. you were too aware of the way nat and travis were sitting too close, too comfortable, like something had shifted in the air. you sat down on the other side of the blonde, trying to ignore the cold weight settling in your chest. despite being sat before a raging fire.

as the night dragged on, your suspicion grew. it wasn’t just the way nat was acting around the boy--more open, more relaxed. it was also the little things: the way she lingered a little too long in conversation with him, the secretive glances they exchanged when they thought no one was watching. your stomach twisted uncomfortably, and you knew something was different between them after this morning’s argument.

i’m just being paranoid, you tell yourself. they're friends.

later, as the fire burns low and the night wrapped around you in a blanket of cool air, you and nat slipped away from the group that had gathered around the fire for a hearty post-dinner hangout, heading toward the cabin.

you sat down on the edge of your sleeping mat, still watching nat as she unzipped her bag, preparing for bed. you opened your mouth, but the words stuck in your throat, the weight of your doubts holding them back.

finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "nat... since when are you and travis so... close?"

nat froze, her hands pausing mid-motion as she turned toward you. her brow furrowed in confusion. "what do you mean?"

you bit your lip, your heart pounding.

you immediately regretted asking anything. the blonde you usually looked so forward to seeing stared back at you with such a bitter expression, you felt stupid.

nat’s expression hardened, her knuckles growing white from her tightening grip on the suitcase. her hand rose to scratch her nape. "i don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about," she started, her voice quiet but steady. she was lying. the flare at the end of that sentence told you all that you needed; you knew her very well, after all. "travis and i are just... close friends. he’s just going through a lot. you know that."

you nodded? but the gnawing suspicion ate at you. "but it just feels like something's happening that you’re not telling me."

nat gave you an amused scoff, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "nothing’s happening, y/n. why’re you being so paranoid?" her defensive tone mocked your worries, but in a turn of events, it made you think of lottie kissing you.

you swallowed hard, forcing a smile, but the knot in your stomach tightened even further. you wanted to believe her.

but you knew it was more than what she was telling you.

“his hands were all over you, nat, i might be quiet but i’m not fucking blind.” you argued, looking up at her.

she scoffed, “you’re being hysterical, for fuck’s sake.”

“what am i supposed to think? you leave first thing in the morning, you come back late at night and when i see you, you’re gushing all over this guy.”

“why do you even give a fuck? you spend all your time sucking lottie’s dick anyway!”

“so this is what it is? you’re doing this ‘cuz you’re jealous?”

she slammed her suitcase shut. “i’m not fucking jealous, i’m sick of you acting like she’s some saviour when she’s not.”

“why am i such a sheep in your head? it’s not like i’m praying to her, i went picking mushrooms with her.” you stood, stepping forward. “all i wanted was to spend time with you, but you’re always doing something and i feel like i’m chasing after something that isn’t there anymore.”

“maybe ‘cuz it isn’t,” nat hissed, pulling back.

you felt that in your chest. you watched, mouth agape, as she ran her hand over her face. she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“i’m sick of you coming for travis. you’ve been nothing but a bitch to him since doom coming and i’m over it, okay?”

you stormed out of the cabin, your heart stinging from what the blonde had just implied. the cool night air brushed against your skin, and the silence of the woods did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside you. you didn’t know exactly what you were looking for, but your feet carried you past the campfire, where you spotted lottie talking to van.

without thinking, you walked over, grabbed Lottie's arm, and pulled her away, the urgency in your steps clear.

you lead the both of you through the edge around the cabin, until the light of the fire became a dim glow in the distance.

before she could say anything, you leant in, kissing her with more intensity than you intended. there was surprise in her tawny eyes, but she quickly melted into your touch, her hands resting on your arms as she didn’t pull away. mindlessly, she nudged you into a tree, a hand on your stomach as yours crept up to tug at her loose, jet hair.

when the kiss broke, lottie looked at you with a dark and dangerous gaze. her lips wet and parted as she panted in attempts to catch her breath.

“what was that for?” she gasped, her smirk evident.

your finger met her lip. you ran a free hand up her jaw, shushing her before leaning in.

her own anchored your hips against the bark scraping against your thighs. your lips began trailing from her lips to her neck, fingers snaking their way up your shirt.

“y/n--” she warned, “i’d rather you talk to me.”

lottie knew she had been drawing a line between you and nat lately. she understood the blonde’s jealous tendencies and it was quite easy from there. she also knew nat and travis were hooking up during the day, and she didn’t have the heart to tell you that. after all, you (used to be) were very much in love with her. but she knew all you needed was a little push.

“i just,” you sighed, “you said you’d be here however i need you. well, this is how i really need you right now.”

“running from your problems won’t fix anything,” she said softly, voice steady. she ran her fingers through her hair, caressing your warm cheek as you leant into her touch. “as much as i want this as well, it’s not under the right grounds. if you’re trying to find clarity, you're not going to get it this way.”

you stood there, her words sinking in as she gave you a knowing look. she sighed, kissing you on the cheek.

“i find it, you’ve confronted nat about her recent behaviour?”

she didn’t ask it with anger or judgment, but with the kind of certainty that made you realize what you were doing. you weren’t thinking straight, blinded by the utter betrayal you had felt. you could smell travis’ musk on nat, you could see the hickeys peaking from the collar of the layers she had on. god, you’ve been such an idiot, you should’ve known.

your hands peeled from her, rubbing the burnout from your eyes. tears welled as your breath deepened.

“hey, hey,” lottie whispered, she wiped the tears pooling from the edge of your eyes. “come here.”

you let her pull you into her arms, circling them snugly around your waist as you sniffled into her shoulder.

“i’m sorry, lot, i’m a mess.” you said, but she soothed you.

“you have nothing to apologize for, y/n. it’s the last thing i want.” lottie said softly. “though, kissing isn’t one way my lips can provide a sense of coherence, i can assure you travis and nat have been… well, you know what it is they’ve done.”

you blinked at her, the words not fully sinking in at first. she knew nat was cheating? did she know about the two of you then? “what? how do you…?”

lottie’s eyes met yours, calm and knowing. “i already knew of the two of you. it has told me about you,” she said gently, her voice steady. “i could see the way you looked at her. and I knew what she was doing.” she paused, taking a breath. “nat isn’t in the right frame of mind to appreciate herself, much less others. you mustn’t blame her. she doesn’t understand the gravity of her actions, of how much pain she has caused you.”

you felt your heart tighten at her words, you felt beyond just the pain you were feeling.

“if it is adoration you crave, i can provide. i can give you what you desire, all you have to do is ask.”

lottie’s presence had always been soothing, but right now, it was something more--her voice, her energy, the way she just knew what to say. was your admiration merely the way a servant to her sovereign? or was it more?

you found yourself speaking before you could stop. “i—” you swallowed hard, the words feeling heavier than anything you’d said in a long time. “i need you to kiss me again. i haven’t stopped thinking about your lips since the creak, and i don’t think it’s just because of nat.” you grabbed the collar of her frilled dress, yanking her close. you heard her swallow thickly, her eyes fixed on your needy lips. “will you do this for me?”

lottie didn’t react immediately, her gaze steady on you as if weighing your words carefully.

then, she reached out, gently lifting your chin with her fingers, her eyes soft but intense. “you’re not just running away from nat, are you?” she asked, her voice low, knowing. “you’re looking for something in me.”

you nodded, not able to look away from her. "with you, i don’t feel like a fucking safety net. i feel appreciated.”

lottie’s gaze softened, and for the first time, there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. you weren’t used to her being anything but the cool, level-headed leader the girls needed her to be. she pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “you’re something worth appreciating.” she pressed another kiss, this one against your jaw. “worth discovering.” finally, her thumb traced the curve of your bottom lip, her breath mingling with yours. “worth worshipping.”

her mouth moved against yours, tongue savouring you.

you’ve been around lottie so many times--you’ve known her for a long time. you’ve never made an effort to notice it, but there was no denying the chemistry you both shared. you usually tried not to think about it, but damn. she knew just what you needed to hear, just where you needed to be touched, and just what you needed to feel. you felt nerves flutter in your stomach as her hands rose to unbutton your shirt.

you were appalled. disgusted at how quick that turned you on. it made you wonder how long you had felt this attraction towards lottie, how in denial you have been with the blonde usually pawing at your chest in hopes of getting lucky.

this was so much more tender, so much more loving.

she gasped as she pried her lips from yours, immediately they latch onto your neck, just between your ear and your jaw. she’s rough with you, and you can tell she’s needed this for a while. she’s needed you. her hand that isn’t on your waist reaches around to the back of your head, forcing you to move where she guided you. like she always did, especially since she had been named the queen. the faint scent of her coconut perfume engrained in the fabric of her clothing is sickening. it invaded your senses and only made you want her more.

“you’ve got me, y/n. for however long you need, i’m yours.”

an; omg yall the reception my first fic got was insane!! so part two is coming to theatres near you. for now enjoy this silly little lottie fic i had cooking.

lmk if you guys like these cuz comments and stuff really help me know what kinda thing you guys like and encourage me!

happy reading! xx

[moesthoughts]

very explicit themes, afab reader, mdni.

it didn’t take long for you to feel touch starved after the crash, isolation from society, barely having privacy since your group stuck together no matter what. You couldn’t satisfy your needs no matter how hard you tried.

It also didn't take you long to find your close friend Nat alone at the lake, her neediness identical to yours. You huffed as she grinded on your thigh and pressed her fingers against your core, threatening to push through the fabric. Your hips push into the sensation, prompting another groan from her lips.

Her fingers slipped beneath the hem of your panties, you were wet just for her. Her breath elevated as you pressed your thigh against her further. Her fingers quickly got to work as she dragged your underwear as far down your legs as she could. Her thumb hits your clit as she pumps into you cruelly slow, causing you to gasp.

You fail to recall how this happened; you remember her mention how disappointing it was to try and sleep with Travis. Maybe it came from hearing Nat's desperate yearning for release that finally broke you. You whimpered as your hands wandered over her body, seeking something to grip onto as the knot in your stomach tightened.

Her fingers were moving quicker than ever, curling at just the right places. Whispered curses poured out her mouth as she moved her hips with the pace of her fingers. Both of you were very close. You arch your back into her, desperate for release.

You eventually throw your head back, letting out a shameless moan. Nat gasped at her own climax soon after you, and continued to ride both of your highs. Her fingers left your body and toppled next to you while she tried to catch her breath. She turned her head towards you, her eyes trailing down your body.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.”

[riddlesbunny]

the giver

summary: When your best friend confides in you that her wildness boyfriend can’t make her finish, you offer to help

pairing: Nat Scatorccio x Reader

word count: 980

warnings: cheating (kind of), slight dirty talk, fingering, oral, squirting

note: she gets the job done!

Natalie is sat beside you, knees pulled to her chest, wrapped in a makeshift blanket. She hasn’t said much all day, and when she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.

“It’s Trav,” she says, not meeting your eyes. “He… it’s like he doesn’t care if I finish. It’s like it never even crosses his mind.”

You’re not sure what to say, but Nat’s been distant for awhile, you’re just happy to be here with her— so you stay silent.

“He’s just… selfish,” she continues, eyes on the fire, “I don’t even think he means to be but I give and give, and when it’s my turn? Nothing.”

You nod slowly, “you know you deserve better than that.”

“Out here… everything’s different. All the rules are gone.”

“If you need something,” you say, carefully, “you can always ask me.”

She stares at you for a moment, almost in disbelief.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I mean we used to play house when we were younger…” you start, but she interrupts you.

“Yeah, but that was years ago… it was and different.”

“Well, like you said… out here, everything is different, there are no rules. So I’m saying, I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”

Your heart pounds, but it feels right so before she answers and without hesitation, you shift closer to her, placing your hands on her knees.

And in response and to your relief, she parts them ever so slightly.

"C'mon, Nat," you plea, "let me help you."

You catch your breath as you watch her hesitate, and then slowly, she parts her legs further.

“But, only if you want to,” you stammer.

She crashes her lips to yours, giving you an answer but you pull back for a moment, "What do you want? Tell me."

"Take me out of this misery," she whimpers, tilting her head back, baring her neck to you. You press a wet kiss there, tasting the salt of her skin, nipping at the sensitive flesh where her neck meets her jaw.

Your lips travel lower, lingering on the soft curve of her collarbone before tracing patterns across her chest.

Her nipples harden through the things fabric of her tank top as you blow lightly over them.

Your tongue flicks out, swirling around each hardened peak, wetting the fabric clinging desperately to her swelling curves. Your hand trails down to the waistband of her shorts, feeling her abs tense as they slip inside.

Your fingertips meet slick heat as they dip below her underwear. A gasp escapes her lips, her legs parting wider for you to push deeper.

"Oh? So wet already?" You question, tauntingly, "is this all for me?"

"Mhm, all for you," Nat pants, her hips bucking towards your hand. Her pussy is so warm and inviting, soft to the touch. Your fingers sink into her folds with ease, gliding up and down her slit.

"Tell me how to make you feel good," you tell her as you slowly begin to pump your fingers.

It doesn’t take long for you to find the rough patch within her walls, causing her to moan out. Her body jolts upwards, arching towards you.

“Shhh, don’t want Travis to hear, do we?” You ask, but she ignores you.

"Use your tongue," she rasps, panting as you slide your thumb along her clit, “please, eat me out.” Your mouth salivates at the order.

You take no time to press your tongue flat against her entrance, savoring the tangy sweetness of her arousal as it coats your lips.

Your tongue delves deep into her quivering cunt, exploring every inch of her velvety walls. She tastes fucking incredible, and you moan around her flesh, hungry for more.

She bucks her hips up to you as you lap at her swollen pussy like a starved animal.

You pull back slightly, only to compliment her, "fuck, Nat, you taste so good.” Her hips buck upwards again at your praise. “Be a good girl and touch your tits, baby," you demand, watching her intently, “squeeze them hard for me while I eat this pretty pussy."

Her hands fly to her chest, obeying you. Satisfied, your mouth returns to her sopping cunt, lapping enthusiastically at the wetness that pools from her core.

Your thumb circles her hard bud as two long digits join your tongue, filling her completely. Your digits scissor inside, stretching out her throbbing hole. Natalie arches against your mouth, gripping her tits firmly and twisting their pebbled peaks.

Her moans grow louder, more insistent, as she grinds herself shamelessly onto your face.

"Oh God, yes! Don't stop!" Nat gasps. You know she’s close now, every flick of your tongue and thrust of your fingers pushes her closer.

Her nails dig into your skin as you push her further. She's writhing, panting, sweat beading on her porcelain skin.

“C'mon, Nat, cum for me."

Your hand fucks her furiously now, the sound of wet flesh slapping fills the air as you place a sloppy kiss to her thigh. Nat's breath comes in short, ragged bursts as she ascends higher towards ecstasy.

“C’mon, baby, let go for me.”

Within seconds her release explodes through her, flooding your face with warmth. You lap greedily at the fluid flowing freely from her soaked center.

“Holy… shit,” she breathes, eyes wide as she stares down at you, completely stunned. Her chest rises and falls as if she’s forgotten how to breathe, and for a moment, all she can do is lay back, frozen.

A smug grin tugs at your lips, “told you I could do it.”

She drags a shaky hand over her face, trying to collect herself. “I, uh… I never doubted you,” she says, almost shy now.

You spring to your feet, eager to escape the sudden awkwardness hanging in the air. Without another word, you start walking away, looking back at Nat.

“Where the hell are you going?” She calls after you.

“To brag to Travis, duh!” you shout over your shoulder, not bothering to slow down.

Nat bursts into laughter, still trying to wriggle into her pants. She shakes her head, grinning.

“You’re such an idiot,” she shouts.

“An idiot that can make you cum!”

[nymphaiofmoros]

TRAVIS MARTINEZ headcanons

x reader .ᐟ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

⸙ - Travis doesn’t actually have many friends back home. Due to his many family problems, he has learned to be independent and alone. Most of the time, he either hangs out alone, or with you.

⸙ - Travis is very inexperienced. Like VERY inexperienced. When the two of you kissed for the first time, he literally stood still. You had to teach him how to do everything, and although he was super embarrassed, he felt safe with you. He knew you wouldn’t make fun of him.

⸙ - Travis is a very jealous person. He tries to hide it but it always slips out. He doesn’t want you to view him as controlling, or possessive, or insecure. But you can always notice when he gets like that. If he sees someone getting a little too close and friendly, he’ll squeeze your hand, gently enough to not hurt you – but hard enough for you to feel it and acknowledge his presence. Then he will ‘death stare’ at the person with absolutely zero shame. And – of course – if the person that’s talking to you tries to talk to him too, he will reply with a sarcastic, sassy comeback like the diva he is.

⸙ - When you get home after a ‘jealousy incident’ as you call it, he’ll act like a grumpy cat, keeping his head down and grumbling short responses. Even though he looks mad at you, he still follows you around the house like a lost puppy. After probably an hour of this, he’ll finally break and start getting affectionate again. Then he will start asking ‘if you still like him’, or ‘if he did anything wrong’. You always reassure him, and that makes him feel safe. His jealousy issue isn’t actually because he doesn’t trust you – he fully trusts you, he just doesn’t like it when other people view you in a similar way he does. You’re special to him, and he wants you to know that no one else cherishes you truly like he does. That’s why he tries so hard to better himself – to make you and himself proud of the person he has become after all of his trauma. 

⸙ - Travis isn’t a confrontational person – at all. But when it comes to you, he tries his hardest to defend you. Especially in the wilderness, he’d make sure you never, ever got hurt. He’d rather eat his own damn arm than kill and eat you. That was his limit – even if he was starving, he was never, ever going to eat you.

⸙ - His favourite spots to be touched are his back – especially if you’re scratching him –, the back of his neck, his hair and scalp (getting petted, playing with his hair, massaging his scalp with your nails), and his arms.

⸙ - He’s always tense, which is why he absolutely adores massages. Not in a sexual way – he just loves having your arms all over his back, releasing all of the tension he had stored up in there. After a massage he’s always limp, just laying there on the bed, on his stomach, groaning like he’s just been shot. Whenever you tell him he’s being dramatic, he always shoots back with a quick, light-hearted “Shut up!”.

⸙ - One of his first gifts for you as an official couple was a cassette tape with a bunch of songs that reminded him of you. He had spent weeks rethinking each song and tweaking the playlist, wanting everything down to the lyrics to be accurate to how he feels and thinks of you. 

⸙ - He loves gossip. Whenever you’re gossiping with your girl friends, he’s always nearby, pretending to be doing something while he’s listening in. He lives for the drama, although he pretends that he’s not interested. After your friends live, he’ll try to ask for more information (without you catching on that he was listening in), although you can always clock him. Now, whenever your friends come around, you all invite him to listen to the new hot cup of tea.

⸙ - He's awkward as hellll when it comes to flirting, or any type of suggestive talk. He tried his hardest, truly, bless his heart, but he's just... bad at it. He always just lets you do all the talking, while he stands there and nervously chuckles.

that's all,,,, for now ;).

[mantas-ray]

Travis making cute noises he’s ashamed of

Given that he has never been with a girl prior to the crash, I think once you have him in your hold he’s so whiny.

Away from prying eyes, you finally have him all to yourself. You’ve been perpetually edged, silently observing him as he does his share of chores around the cabin. Travis thinks he’s some tough guy, lugging around the rifle when Nat lets him, but the moment the both of you are away from the rest of the group, he’s melting in your palms.

The desperation is palpable between the both of you. When you press your lips to his, Travis can’t help the gasp that escapes him. That’s only the start. His nose bumps into yours as he tilts his head, attempting to taste more of you. One of his hands rests on your hip, and the other cups your cheek, guiding you closer to him.

The tree bark digs uncomfortably into his back, but he barely registers the sensation when your fingers entangle into his dark locks, tugging at the roots. Travis whimpers into your mouth, and you hungrily swallow the noise. If anything, it spurs you on. You wanted — needed to hear more of it, and it wasn’t difficult to have him a moaning mess.

With the heady combination of your hands needily grasping at him and your own moans, Travis lets slip noises ranging from quiet gasps to higher-pitched whines. Blood rushes to his cheeks, and his skin is impossibly warm when you hold his face. Fuck, Travis can hear himself, and it’s humiliating. He parts from your lips, tilting his head back to collide with the tree in a quiet ‘thud’.

You immediately attach yourself to his neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin. Travis swallows his nerves and his Adam’s apple bobs against your lips. It was dizzying for the both of you, but especially for Travis.

“Wait— wait,” Travis pants, catching breath. He didn’t want to risk being loud again, not only because he didn’t want to get caught, but because he was mortified by the sounds that could leave him. His hands run through his hair, revealing his eyes clouded with desire as he gazes at you. Travis licks his glossy lips coated with your shared saliva, attempting to collect himself.

“You okay, Trav?” you asked.

“I’m fine,” his voice cracks at the end of the statement, and he’s further humiliated. He knows you could care less, but he does. He’s overwhelmed by it all. You can’t blame him if he gets vocal about his need for you.

[auraisereigh]

"For Her, Always"

oneshot

Garrick Tavis x Riorson reader Request: Garrick x riorson little sister (she is a 2 year with Bohdi they are bff) they fell in love when they were little and now she is a rider but they hide what they feel to not upset Xaden, but the some guy flirts with her and we get MAD JELOUS Garrick and he hurts the guy on challenges, Xaden notices and they have a talk so then reader and Garrick can be together (Love confession Bridgerton style) wc: 6.8 ☆ no specific spoilers. Uses pronouns: she/her.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

If there was one thing about Garrick Travis then it was that he was attractive, always had been- even when he was younger. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel something for him. And maybe, just maybe, I would have said something by now if it wasn't for the fact that he's best friends with my brother.

Xaden.

He has enough on his mind. Adding to that is the last thing on my mind. Even if that means I'll have to keep my feelings to myself. Even if that means my heart will keep yearning for what I can't have. At least I can still stare at him. From a distance, in the practice room. It's better than nothing I suppose.

"You're staring." Bodhi muzes next to me. I shoot a small glare his way as I continue to wrap my hands for sparring. "Am not." I respond tense.

Second year is more difficult and stressfull than it seemed. RSC hanging over my head. Xaden has done his part in preparing me but that didn't make it less terrifying and seeing as it's unpredictable when leadership would come and get us, well, that just makes it worse.

Not that I have seen a lot of Xaden lately, he's been occupied with a certain Sorrengail.

That thought brings me back to where I am. Xaden is training the youngest Sorrengail on one of the mats in the corners, Garrick not far away from them as he practices with his sword.

And I'd hate to admit it but I am staring.

After I finish wrapping my hands I stand and pick up my daggers. They had always been my preferred weapon. Light but easy to use.

I go through my usual warm up routine. Swinging them around. It's all going smoothly until I hear a voice call out. "Looking good, beautiful."

I glance toward the voice, only to find Oren—the overconfident third-year with a cocky grin plastered on his face—walking toward me. He’s twirling his sword as if to show off, his steps relaxed.

“Your technique’s good, but I think you’re missing something,” he says, a smirk on his face.

I raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “And what would that be?” He shrugs, a look of mischief appears in his eyes. “A partner. You know, someone to make things more… interesting.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe someone who can keep up with you.”

I roll my eyes and focus back on my daggers, spinning one lazily between my fingers. “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks though.” I reply sarcastic, focusing back on my daggers. In the corner of my eye i catch Garrick's gaze.

But Oren doesn’t back down. “Come on, beautiful. You’ve got moves, but I bet I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe over a Meal?” His grin widens. I shake off the shiver that runs through my spine. An uncomfortable look on my face.

"Back off Oren." Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension. "She's already got someone to spar with." Bodhi's voice is on the cold side, almost as sharp as my brother Xaden's.

I give Bodhi a grateful smile as Oren retreats a step, his hands up in surrender. The smirk on his face is still present and I can tell he's not finished. For now maybe. But not forever.

♤

I stand by the surrounding crowd. All our eyes are on the mat, at the fight that is happening. It's a good match-- the matches before this one were a little meh but this one is actually good, we might be onto something.

The match ends after the second year taps out. From the corner of my eye I can see Garrick talking to Emmeterio. Why would he talk to him?

"Next match. Seifert and Travis." Emmeterio announces and my heart jumpes in my throat. That can't be a coincidence can it? Garrick against Oren not even a day after the small incident in the sparring room.

I can feel Xaden's eyes on me but I don't turn to face him. My eyes are solely on Garrick as he takes his place on the mat. His face holds the sole emotion of anger.

Oren charges first but Garrick side steps him, around his attack. Oren tries again but Garrick takes a hold of his arm, twisting it and Oren let's out a groan.

I can see Garrick say something to Oren but it's too quiet for me to hear. Garrick starts twisting his arm at an unnatural angle. He puts his leg between Oren's and he falls backwards on the mat. I knew Garrick was a good fighter but he's really good.

Garrick easily straddles Oren, a dagger at his throat and I wouldn't wish the look upon Garricks face to anyone. Not even my worst enemy.

He moves his dagger slightly, enough to draw blood but not enough to seriously injure him. I hold my breath at the sight. There is no way Garrick would actually kill him right?

He presses the blad harder against Oren's neck. I hear the familiar tap against the mat, he taps out. I let out the breath I'd been holding, Garrick slowly gets off him. He takes a step backwards, his dagger still in his hand.

I also take a step back, most people in this room night not know what this means but some do. I can feel bodhi's and Xaden's eyes in my back, burning holes.

I can see Xaden follow Garrick out of the sparring room and I don't hesitate to follow. I follow them quietly until they stop in a dark alley.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Xaden snaps at Garrick. His voice full of authority. I stay hidden behind the wall.

"He was flirting with her last night." I hear Garrick argue, frustration laced in his tone. "I'm aware of that. I saw it to but she can defend herself." Xaden voice grows bored.

"You're telling me you don't care that an asshole was flirting with your sister?" The frustration in his voice grows harsher.

“Of course I care,” Xaden snaps. “But I trust her to handle it. You, however, handled it as though you were issuing a challenge. That’s not protecting her—it’s claiming her.”

Garrick falls silent for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the alley. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. My breath catches in my throat.

“You don’t get to do that unless you’re willing to back it up,” Xaden warns, his tone razor-sharp. “You don’t get to make her your responsibility unless she’s choosing you. So tell me, Garrick, what exactly are your intentions?”

There’s a long pause before Garrick speaks, but when he does, his voice is steady. “My intentions are to love her. To protect her. To be the one she can turn to for the rest of her life. If that’s claiming her, so be it. I’ve loved her for longer than I care to admit, and I’m done hiding it.”

I press my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatens to escape. Did he just say…?

“And what about her?” Xaden challenges. “Have you even thought about what she wants? Or is this just about you?”

“It’s about her,” Garrick snaps back. “It’s always been about her.” “Then maybe you should say something to her instead of throwing daggers at every man who looks her way,” Xaden retorts. “Because this whole display? It’s not going to win her over. Talk to her. And for both your sakes, stop making me the middleman.”

I hear footsteps retreating, the sound of Xaden walking away. My heart pounds as I realize I’m now alone with Garrick, hidden just around the corner.

I take a shaky breath, stepping out of the shadows. “You could’ve just asked me,” I say softly.

Garrick whirls around, his eyes wide with shock. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “Is it true? What you said?”

He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter—” “It does matter,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “Because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is one-sided. That you could never see me as anything more than Xaden’s little sister. And now you’re telling me that you… that you’ve felt the same way?”

His gaze snaps to mine, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”

I nod, my chest tightening as the words spill out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Garrick. But I thought you’d never… I thought it wasn’t possible.”

He takes a step toward me, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping my distance. Watching you with Oren last night, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And today?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “On the mat?” “I wanted him to know,” he admits, his thumb brushing against my skin. “That you’re not just some girl to flirt with. That you’re… everything to me.”

I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes as I lean into his touch. “Then stop keeping your distance,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, years of longing and unspoken words pouring into that one moment. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

I smile, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. “You’ve already done enough,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try.”

♤

[goldfades]

next time | chapter three, DAYLIGHT

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MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.7k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you try to move on from a past relationship finds yourself caught between a safe relationship with a new football player and a magnetic attraction to joe burrow. kylie tries to guide you towards stable relationships but you struggle with the lack of passion and excitement in your current romance.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kinda angsty, past relationships mention, dalton kincaid mention!!!, ummm nothing else.

The bass thrummed low through the floor, the sound vibrating beneath Joe’s feet as he leaned back against the bar, whiskey glass in hand. The postgame party was in full swing—players scattered around in groups, some deep in conversation, others basking in the high of the night. The exclusivity of it all made things feel a little more intimate, a little less like a spectacle, which he appreciated. No cameras, no media, just guys celebrating with their people.

He had barely touched his drink, rolling the glass between his fingers as he let his eyes scan the room. He wasn’t really sure what—or who—he was looking for.

“Yo, man, you good?”

Joe barely turned his head as Ja’Marr slid in beside him, a bottle of beer in hand, eyes sharp like he could see right through whatever Joe was thinking.

Joe exhaled through his nose. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh. That’s your favorite answer these days.”

Joe didn’t bother arguing.

Ja’Marr took a swig from his bottle before nodding toward the far side of the room. “Travis is here with Taylor, obviously.”

Joe followed his line of sight, catching a glimpse of the couple. Travis, as usual, was in the center of everything, laughing loudly, talking with damn near everyone in the room. Taylor was settled in a booth nearby, not nearly as deep into the scene as her boyfriend, but smiling nonetheless.

And next to her—

Joe blinked. There was someone next to her. Someone he didn’t recognize.

And yet...

Something flickered in his chest, sharp and sudden, like a stray ember catching flame.

You were sitting comfortably, legs crossed, your body angled toward Taylor as you talked, deep in whatever conversation they were having. Unlike the other women at the party, she wasn’t dressed to be noticed—no skin-tight dress, no exaggerated effort to stand out. Just effortless. Simple. Like she belonged without trying.

Joe couldn’t look away.

Something about her felt... familiar, though he couldn’t place why.

Ja’Marr must have noticed, because he let out a low chuckle. “Ohhh. I see what’s happening here.”

Joe finally tore his eyes away, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“Nah, man, this is interesting,” Ja’Marr mused, leaning against the bar. “You actually interested in someone? Haven’t seen that in a minute.”

Joe ignored him, but that didn’t stop Ja’Marr from grinning.

“Who is she?” Joe asked before he could stop himself.

Ja’Marr arched a brow. “That’s Kelce’s sister.”

Joe turned back toward her, brow furrowing slightly. He’d heard about Travis’s sister in passing but had never actually seen her before. She was always in the background, tucked away in the spaces where the cameras didn’t reach.

But now? Now he was seeing her.

Really seeing her.

Ja’Marr smirked. “Didn’t know Travis had a sister, huh?”

“I mean... I knew.” Joe tilted his head slightly. “Just didn’t know she was... her.”

Ja’Marr let out a laugh. “Oh yeah, man. That’s her.”

Joe turned back toward his drink, swirling the liquid inside, trying to settle whatever had just sparked in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

Not now.

Not after everything.

It had been months since his breakup with Olivia, but he still wasn’t used to this—this thing inside of him that craved something solid, something real, but had no idea where to find it. He’d tried to push it down, tried to ignore it, but it was still there. And now, looking across the room at a girl he didn’t even know, it was clawing its way back to the surface.

He stole another glance, catching the way she laughed at something Taylor said, head tilting back just slightly, eyes bright with amusement.

That feeling surged again.

Joe clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not to him. Not like this.

The house was quiet when Joe got home, the kind of quiet that made his own thoughts louder. He dropped his keys onto the counter, kicked off his shoes, and sank onto the couch, running a hand through his hair. His phone was already in his hand before he could think twice about it. Muscle memory had him opening Instagram, but this time, instead of mindlessly scrolling, he typed a name into the search bar.

Your name.

It popped up immediately. No effort. No guessing. Like even the damn algorithm knew he was curious.

He clicked on your profile, eyes scanning over it with something between hesitation and intrigue. Your profile picture wasn’t what he expected—no posed influencer shot, no carefully curated aesthetic. Just you, smiling at the camera on the beach. Simple.

And the posts? Barely 30 of them. Joe found that odd.

With a last name like Kelce, you could’ve been larger than life. He’d expected more—glamorous vacations, front-row seats, high-profile events. Instead, what he got was...

Normal.

A couple of pictures with your brothers—Travis grinning like an idiot with his arm slung around your shoulders, Jason hugging you tight and you with Kylie and the kids. A handful of game-day shots, mostly from years ago. One with Taylor, obviously.

And then—Joe scrolled lower.

Prom photos. His thumb hovered over the screen, eyes narrowing slightly. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

It wasn’t the Kelce sister, the one with over 10 million followers, standing in an ordinary high school gym, wearing a dress that, while beautiful, wasn’t designer or extravagant. It wasn’t you, standing next to a guy in a rented tux, smiling like you had no idea how different your life was going to be in just a few years.

Joe felt something shift in his chest. He couldn’t explain it, not really. But this? This was unexpected.

Who were you?

Because from what he could see, you weren’t just the Kelce’s sister. You weren’t just some girl who happened to exist in the same space as NFL royalty.

You were something else entirely.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Joe wanted to know more.

The house was lively, as it always was.

Jason and Kylie’s home never knew silence, not with three kids under five running around, demanding attention, food, and whatever toy the other had at any given moment. The TV was playing some random kid’s show in the background, the faint sound of little giggles filling the air as Benny toddled after Wyatt, both of them holding onto a stuffed football like it was the most prized possession in the world.

You sat at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of tea Kylie had made you. She insisted it would be good for your stress—not that you were stressed, of course, but apparently, she could just tell.

Across from you, Jason leaned back in his chair, watching you with a look that made you roll your eyes before he even opened his mouth.

“So, let me get this straight,” he started, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re seriously letting Kylie pick your next boyfriend?”

“She’s not picking him,” you corrected, tapping your nails against the side of your mug. “She’s just… giving me options.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

Kylie, standing by the counter with her phone in hand, waved him off. “Oh, shut up. I’m doing what you should be doing instead of scaring off every guy who even thinks about talking to her.”

Jason pointed at her. “That’s my job.”

“No,” she countered, flipping through her phone. “Your job is to be a supportive big brother who wants his sister to be happy.”

“She is happy,” Jason insisted. Then, turning to you, he added, “You’re happy, right?”

You gave him a dry look. “So happy.”

Kylie huffed. “Okay, well, you’d be happier if you weren’t wasting away in self-pity over you-know-who.”

Jason tensed immediately, expression darkening at the mere mention of him.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We’re not doing this.”

“We are doing this,” Kylie pushed. “Because I love you, and you deserve to move on.”

Jason grumbled something under his breath but said nothing more, probably because he knew Kylie wasn’t going to drop it.

“Anyway,” Kylie continued, ignoring her husband’s brooding, “I took the liberty of compiling a list of eligible bachelors who might be worthy of your attention.”

You lifted a brow. “A list?”

She held up her phone. “A roster, technically.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “Jesus Christ.”

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smirk. “A roster? You’re actually scouting for me?”

“Damn right, I am,” Kylie said proudly. “And I think I found a solid option.”

You leaned forward slightly, a little amused now. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

She turned her phone around, revealing a picture of Dalton Kincaid.

You blinked. “The Bills’ tight end?”

Kylie nodded. “He’s young, talented, good-looking—”

Jason made a sound of protest.

“—respectful,” Kylie continued, throwing her husband a look. “And I did my research. No crazy exes, no scandals, and he seems like an all-around nice guy.”

You tilted your head, staring at the picture. You had to admit… he was attractive.

Kylie caught your pause and gasped, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re considering it.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

“I didn’t say that—”

“But you didn’t not say that.”

Jason groaned again, pushing back from the table. “I hate everything about this.”

Kylie swatted at him playfully before turning back to you, her excitement barely contained. “This is progress! We’re getting somewhere!”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. “It’s not that serious.”

“But you think he’s cute.”

“…He’s not not cute.”

Kylie clapped her hands together. “I’ll take it.”

Jason just muttered something about needing a beer.

You laughed softly, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

For the first time in a long time, the weight on your chest didn’t feel so suffocating.

Jason, still grumbling about the whole thing, leaned forward and set his forearms on the table. “Alright, if we’re really doing this, I have a suggestion.”

Kylie rolled her eyes. “Oh, now you’re getting involved?”

“I’m just saying,” Jason shrugged. “I met this rookie at camp—JJ McCarthy. Nice kid, real polite. Reminds me of myself, honestly.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Jason.”

“What?”

“He’s a rookie.”

“So?”

“So, I’m not about to be a cougar just because you met some nice kid at camp.”

Jason smirked. “I mean, it’d make for some great headlines.”

You tossed a napkin at him. “Shut up.”

Kylie, snickering, scrolled through her phone again. “Alright, fine, JJ’s out. What about…” She hummed, scrolling. “Christian McCaffrey?”

Jason shook his head. “Engaged.”

“Damn,” Kylie muttered, moving on. “What about George Pickens?”

Jason scoffed. “Not happening.”

“Okay, okay,” Kylie continued, tapping her screen. “Ooh, what about Joe Burrow?”

Jason immediately burst into laughter. Like, full-bodied, shoulders-shaking laughter. You and Kylie both blinked at him.

Kylie frowned. “What the hell is so funny?”

Jason wiped a fake tear from his eye. “You think Joe Burrow is relationship material?” He laughed again, shaking his head. “That guy is the opposite of what she needs.”

You tilted your head, intrigued now. “Why do you say that?”

Jason snorted. “Because Burrow is married to the game. Dude’s got tunnel vision. He’s not the type to settle down, trust me.”

Kylie scoffed. “That’s not entirely true. He was in a long-term relationship before, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, and look how that ended,” Jason pointed out. “He’s not gonna be boyfriend of the year anytime soon.”

You, despite yourself, were mildly curious now. You hadn’t really thought about Joe Burrow in that way before, but Jason’s insistence that it would never happen somehow made it more interesting.

Not that you were interested. At all.

Obviously.

Kylie crossed her arms. “Well, I think you two would be cute together.”

Jason laughed again. “Not a chance.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Can we please move on? I am not about to start a fantasy draft of my love life.”

Kylie sighed dramatically. “Fine. But just so you know, I am rooting for Dalton Kincaid.”

Jason groaned. “I need another beer.”

You just shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips as the conversation shifted to something else. But still, for some reason, the idea of Joe Burrow lingered in the back of your mind longer than it probably should have.

It started off simple.

Dalton had followed you on Instagram a few days after your conversation with Kylie and Jason, and Kylie had been the first to notice. “Look at that! Already manifesting. I’m a genius.” You had rolled your eyes at her dramatic proclamation, but you had to admit—it was a little funny.

Then he liked one of your photos.

You didn’t think much of it at first. He seemed like a nice guy from what you’d heard, and he had that clean-cut, all-American charm to him. No drama, no scandal, no exes lurking in the shadows. Just a solid, respectable guy.

You liked one of his photos back, just to see what would happen.

Then, one evening, a DM popped up.

Dalton Kincaid: Hey, didn’t know we had mutuals. Small world.

It was harmless, casual, and completely normal—so normal that it threw you off. After years of dealing with cryptic texts, games, and public blowouts, the idea of a guy just… being direct felt almost foreign.

You responded. He responded. And just like that, a conversation started.

A week later, he asked you to dinner.

You said yes.

And honestly? It was nice.

Dalton was polite, always held the door open for you, asked questions about your life, and actually listened. He didn’t pry too much about your family or your past, didn’t seem to care about the attention your last relationship had brought. He just seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

And after everything you’d been through, you figured that had to count for something.

So, when he asked you out again, you said yes.

And then again.

And then again.

It wasn’t some whirlwind romance, nothing dramatic or earth-shattering. It was steady, predictable. Safe.

That’s what you should want, right?

That’s what Kylie kept saying. “This is good for you,” she insisted one night after a double date. “This is what a normal relationship looks like.”

Jason, surprisingly, got along with him when they finally met. He gave Dalton a firm handshake, grilled him about football, and even managed to squeeze in an overly protective “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you” speech—which Dalton took in stride.

Everything was fine.

So why did you feel nothing?

You tried to ignore it. You really did.

But Kylie? Kylie could tell.

It was dinner at their house, just something casual. You’d brought Dalton along, and Jason was actually being nice for once, talking football and joking around with him.

But Kylie was watching you.

And when you reached for your wine glass for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, she leaned in close and murmured, “You’re bored.”

You blinked at her. “What?”

“You’re bored,” she repeated, matter-of-fact.

“I am not—”

She gave you a look.

You exhaled sharply, lowering your glass. “It’s just… different.”

Kylie arched an eyebrow. “Different how?”

You didn’t answer.

But she already knew.

Before dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and gripping the edge of the sink as you stared at your reflection.

What were you doing?

Dalton was perfect—on paper, at least.

But the truth was, you weren’t excited. Your heart didn’t race when he texted you. You didn’t find yourself thinking about him when he wasn’t around. You weren’t craving his presence.

You had been convincing yourself that this was what you needed—something stable, something good.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

You had always been drawn to chaos.

Jayson had been chaos. That relationship had been unpredictable, passionate, messy. It had ruined you, and yet you had kept going back, over and over, because you didn’t know anything different.

Was that just who you were?

Were you always going to be the girl who ran toward the fire, no matter how many times she got burned?

You closed your eyes, exhaling shakily.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be healing.

So why did it feel like you were just losing yourself all over again?

The event was grand, extravagant in a way that felt both dazzling and completely exhausting. The kind of celebration where everything gleamed just a little too bright, the champagne flowed just a little too freely, and everyone pretended they weren’t sizing each other up with every passing glance.

You had tried—really tried—to get into it.

You were supposed to be playing two roles tonight: proud sister, devoted WAG. You had the dress, the practiced smile, the polite small talk. But twenty minutes in, you already felt yourself fading.

Dalton had been whisked away by Jason and Travis almost immediately, caught up in some animated discussion about the upcoming season. And you? You had done your best to engage, had listened to your brothers talk about strategies and offseason plans and blah blah blah—but after a while, you had quietly slipped away, finding solace in the one person who could make these things bearable.

Taylor.

“I think I’ve heard your last name about a hundred times already,” she mused, swirling her drink idly as you both leaned against the high-top table tucked into a quieter corner of the room. “Everywhere I turn, it’s ‘Kelce this, Kelce that.’ How do you deal with it?”

You let out a slow exhale, eyes scanning the glittering room. The sea of football players, coaches, media figures—it was endless.

"Practice."

Taylor laughed, tapping her manicured nails against the rim of her glass. “I don’t know how you do it. I get tired just watching you pretend to be interested.”

You smirked, raising your glass in a mock toast. “Years of experience.”

The truth was, you had been interested in the past. You had sat in the stands since you were a kid, had spent years watching your brothers play, following their careers, genuinely invested in it all.

But now?

Now, it felt like the same story on a different night. The same conversations, the same people, the same repetitive cycle.

Dalton was here, of course. Somewhere. You had watched him slip into the role of social butterfly with ease, chatting up Jason, shaking hands with some of the veterans, blending seamlessly into the scene.

You knew you should be at his side. That was what WAGs did, right? They stood next to their football player boyfriends, smiled for the cameras, cheered them on at events like this.

And yet…

You didn’t want to.

Not because you didn’t like Dalton. He was great. He was kind, easygoing, safe. But standing next to him didn’t ignite anything in you. There was no pull, no electricity.

And worst of all—you were bored out of your mind.

Your eyes flitted across the room absently, landing on familiar faces here and there. Jason was laughing, Travis was deep in conversation with some Hall of Famer, Dalton was… somewhere.

The thing about these events was that they all blurred together after a while. The same faces, the same conversations, the same predictable rhythm. You had been in rooms like this for as long as you could remember, had learned how to smile at the right moments, laugh at the right jokes, play the part.

But tonight, something felt different.

Or maybe you felt different.

Taylor had leaned in close, whispering something about how the only thing worse than being in a room full of football players was being in a room full of football players and their coaches. You had laughed, nodded, agreed wholeheartedly.

Dalton was still somewhere, lost in conversation with Jason and Travis, and for the hundredth time that night, you wondered why you were even here.

You weren’t unhappy. You weren’t miserable. But you weren’t exactly having fun either.

Your eyes wandered absently over the crowd, taking in the scene. And before you could think too much about it, you turned to Taylor. “Wanna sneak out?”

Her face lit up with delight. “God, I thought you’d never ask.”

And just like that, you slipped away, out onto the quiet balcony, letting the crisp night air wash over you.

Joe had been doing a pretty good job of convincing himself he wasn’t looking for her. For the last few weeks, her name had been sitting in the back of his mind like a song he couldn’t shake, playing on a loop, something he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to forget.

He had spent too much time trying to figure out why.

Why her? Why now? But now that she was here, standing across the room, he realized it didn’t matter. Because the second he saw her, something in him shifted.

She was sitting with Taylor, her expression unreadable, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass in a way that made something tighten in his chest. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. Since something had pulled at him like this.

Maybe never.

And then, before he could process it, before he could even think about doing something about it—

She was gone.

He blinked, scanning the room, realizing she had slipped away with Taylor out onto the balcony. And just like that, the moment was gone, slipping through his fingers before he even had the chance to hold onto it.

"You gonna go talk to her, or you just gonna stand there like an idiot?"

Joe sighed, exhaling slowly as Ja’Marr clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Not really my thing."

Ja’Marr snorted. "What, talking to girls? Since when?"

"Since she’s not just some girl."

He regretted saying it the second it left his mouth, because now Ja’Marr was grinning at him like he had just admitted to something huge.

"Damn, Joe. That bad, huh?"

Joe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "It’s not like that."

"Right. And you’re not staring at that balcony like you wanna be anywhere but here."

Joe clenched his jaw, eyes flickering toward the doors again. It was stupid. He knew that.

But something about her—the normalcy, the way she seemed so unaffected by all of this, the way she had managed to get under his skin without even trying—it was driving him insane.

And now she was right there.

Ja’Marr smirked. "You act like you’ve never had to talk to a girl before."

Joe huffed out a laugh. "This is different."

"Why? ‘Cause you actually give a shit?"

Joe didn't answer. Because yeah, that was exactly why. And the worst part?

He felt like he was back in high school, standing outside a classroom, working up the nerve to talk to the girl in his biology class. But this wasn't high school. And if he didn't go now, he probably never would.

Ja’Marr leaned in, lowering his voice. "Go."

Joe exhaled slowly.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it—

He did.

*****

Dinner with the Kelces is never a quiet affair, no matter how upscale the restaurant. Tonight is no exception.

You're sitting at a ridiculously high-end spot in New York, the kind where the waiters wear crisp white jackets, and the wine list is longer than the menu. The kind of place that expects hushed conversations and delicate bites—not a table full of Kelces, their significant others, and three children under the age of five making a scene in the middle of the dining room.

It’s chaos. Beautiful, hilarious, full-volume Kelce chaos.

And then there’s Dalton.

You glance across the table at him, watching as he patiently listens to Wyatt explain the entire plot of whatever Disney movie she’s obsessed with this week. He nods along, eyes soft, not the least bit bothered by the toddler-level monologue happening right in front of him.

He’s good. Good with the kids. Good with your family. Just… good.

And you hate yourself for not being into him the way you should be.

"Are you even listening to me?"

You blink, dragging your gaze back to Kylie, who’s watching you like she knows exactly where your head is at.

"What?" you say, shoving a piece of bread in your mouth to give yourself something to do.

Kylie gives you a look. "You’re thinking too much. Stop it."

"I’m literally just sitting here."

"You’re literally overanalyzing the nice, stable man sitting next to you and trying to talk yourself into liking him."

You groan, dropping your head into your hands.

"You should like him," Kylie continues, because of course she’s not going to let it go. "He’s great."

"I know he is," you mutter.

And you do.

Dalton is everything you’re supposed to want.

Which makes it worse that you don’t want him the way you want—

"Oh!" Taylor’s voice cuts through the conversation. "Speaking of football players, did I tell you guys about—"

You don’t even have time to react before Taylor clamps a hand over your mouth, eyes going wide like she just realized she stepped on a landmine.

Kylie immediately perks up. "About what?"

Taylor’s gaze darts to you, full of silent apology.

Shit.

You force a laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal. "Oh, it’s nothing. She’s talking about that thing with Joe Burrow at the event."

Travis, who’s been in the middle of a conversation with Jason, turns his head at the sound of the name. "What thing with Burrow?"

You roll your eyes, putting way too much effort into sounding casual. "He just wanted a picture."

A beat of silence.

Jason blinks. "That’s it?"

"Yeah, of course."

No one believes you.

Dalton, who’s been relatively quiet during the exchange, just quirks a brow, looking between you all. He doesn’t press. But you see the slight shift in his expression, like he’s noting it. Filing it away for later.

Taylor, meanwhile, is drinking her wine way too fast, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

The conversation moves on, but the tension doesn’t fully disappear.

And you spend the rest of dinner trying very hard not to think about why you lied so quickly.

And Dalton drops you off at your hotel that night, always the gentleman. He walks you to the door, hands in his pockets, that easy, genuine smile still on his face.

"I had a really great time tonight," he says.

You nod, ignoring the way your stomach twists. "Me too."

And then he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s soft. Polite. Exactly what a good guy would do. And all you can think about is how much you crave more.

Just… not from him.

The door shut behind you with a soft click, and you let out a long, slow breath, forehead resting against the cool wood. The air in the hotel room was still, almost suffocatingly quiet, as if it was holding space for the thoughts you were trying so hard to ignore.

Dalton was perfect. He was stable, kind, predictable in the best way possible. He was the kind of guy you could trust, the kind who would never make you wonder where you stood. And yet—

Your fingers twitched at your sides as you let out a groan, dragging your hands down your face. God, what was wrong with you?

You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Not Dalton—the other one.

Joe Burrow.

The thought alone sent a frustrated shudder down your spine. You barely knew him, and yet, he’d wormed his way into your brain like he had every right to be there. You could still hear his voice, that easy, smooth way he spoke, the sharp intelligence laced behind his words. And worse—you could still feel the way his eyes had lingered, like he’d been just as caught in whatever this was as you had.

Your chest tightened, and you pushed off the door, pacing toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. New York was alive outside, bright and fast-moving, everything in constant motion. It should’ve been a distraction. It should’ve been enough to drown out the storm in your head.

But instead, your mind pulled you back.

Back to Jayson.

Back to the last time you’d felt something like this.

You sucked in a breath through your nose, arms wrapping around yourself, like maybe if you held on tight enough, you could stop yourself from spiraling.

It had been years of push and pull with him.

You met him when you were nineteen—young, naive, willing to overlook the red flags for the sake of something that made your pulse race. And god, he had made you feel alive. He was charming, effortless in the way he made you want him, even when you knew he wasn’t good for you.

The highs had been so high. The stolen moments, the electricity, the kind of passion that made everything else fade into the background.

But the lows?

The lows had swallowed you whole.

The fights, the uncertainty, the way he could cut you down with a single look, a single word. The way you had needed his approval, his love, like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

You had been a wreck when it finally, finally ended.

And now, months later, standing in the middle of a quiet hotel room with the ghost of another man’s touch lingering on your lips, you hated that a small, twisted part of you missed it.

You hated that stability didn’t set your veins on fire the way recklessness did.

You hated that Joe Burrow had looked at you like you were interesting, like you were something worth figuring out—and it made you want.

You hated yourself for craving something that could ruin you all over again.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips as you sank down onto the edge of the bed, rubbing at your temples.

"You’re a fucking mess," you muttered to yourself.

And worse—you weren’t sure you even wanted to be fixed.

The bass of the club pulsed beneath Joe’s feet, vibrating through his chest like a second heartbeat. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the way the dim lighting caught the reflection before tipping it back and letting the warmth spread through his veins.

He wasn’t drunk—just loose enough to let his thoughts spill out.

“That was my shot,” he muttered, shaking his head as he leaned against the VIP booth, looking across at Sam Hubbard. “Tee straight up cockblocked me, man. Like, do you understand how rare that was? That was a moment.”

Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “You’re really hung up on this, huh?”

Joe gave him a look. “Wouldn’t you be? I barely get like this over anyone—and the one time I do, I don’t even get to ask for her number?” He scoffed, running a hand through his slightly disheveled hair. “Unreal.”

Sam smirked, stretching an arm along the back of the booth. “You know about her and Jayson, right?”

Joe’s brows pulled together slightly. “Tatum?”

Sam nodded, tipping his drink toward him. “Yeah. They were together for years—on and off bullshit. Public, messy breakup. It was bad.”

That gave Joe pause.

He knew of Jayson Tatum, of course—anyone who paid even the smallest amount of attention to basketball did. He was a star, undeniably talented. But what Joe didn’t know was that he and the Kelce sister had history. A lot of history, apparently.

Joe frowned, shifting in his seat. Something about that didn’t sit right with him.

Maybe it was because he knew exactly what kind of guy Tatum was. Not a bad guy, necessarily, but the kind who could have any woman he wanted at the snap of a finger. The kind who probably expected her to come back every time he left.

And she had, until she didn’t.

Joe let out a breath, shaking his head as he stared at the ice in his glass. “Damn. He fumbled, bad.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, well, she’s with Dalton now, so I doubt she’s thinking about it too much.”

Joe’s head snapped up at that, brows shooting toward his hairline. “Dalton?”

“Kincaid.”

Joe blinked, as if making sure he’d heard that right. “Dalton Kincaid? The Bills’ tight end?”

“The very one,” Sam confirmed, amusement playing at the edges of his lips.

Joe sat back, exhaling through his nose as he mulled that over. Dalton was a good guy. Solid. Reliable. Exactly the kind of guy you’d bring home to your family and not worry about them hating him.

But without meaning to, without even thinking, Joe muttered, “Don’t seem like her type.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And who does?”

Joe opened his mouth, then shut it. Because he knew exactly what he was about to say.

Me.

But he caught himself just before the words could slip, and instead, he dragged a hand down his face, muttering a quiet, “Fuck.”

Sam straight-up grinned. “Wow. Wow.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Joey B thinks he’s the Kelce sister’s type?”

Joe scowled at him. “Shut up.”

“Nah, nah, hold on,” Sam laughed, slapping a hand against his knee. “This is interesting.”

“It’s not interesting,” Joe bit back, shaking his head. “It’s just—Dalton’s a nice guy. A good guy. And she probably should be with someone like him.”

Sam’s grin widened. “But you don’t think she wants to be?”

Joe didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he thought about the way she’d carried herself at the event. How, even in a room full of the NFL’s biggest names, she hadn’t acted like a Kelce—at least, not in the way you’d expect. She hadn’t been loud or attention-seeking, hadn’t fed into the spectacle of it all. Instead, she had snuck away with Taylor, like she was bored of it. Like she was looking for something else.

And he didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but he knew what it felt like.

Familiar. Like he’d been there before.

Joe exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. All I know is that Tee cockblocked the hell out of me, and I’m pissed about it.”

Sam laughed, raising his glass. “Then you better make sure next time, you don’t miss.”

Joe clinked his drink against Sam’s, but as he tipped it back, he couldn’t help but think—

Next time, huh?

[27spoons]

You Are a Memory. | Natalie Scatorccio

pairing: natalie scatorccio/gn!reader

summary: Natalie says goodbye to an old friend. (mid-late s2)

wc: 2350

warnings: mentions and depictions of suicide, cannibalism as a metaphor for love, y/n usage, natalie scatorccio cannot catch a break

a/n: i wont lie to yall and say this is an easy read. i was writing smut then started listening to the linked song, and, well.... here we are. here we are.

"Nat, you don't have to do this," Van says, breaking the quiet. "Maybe…" They glance around the room before gesturing to Travis, “Trav can take them down to the plane, keep them there 'til spring. You don’t have to be the one to do this—"

"I'm fine on my own." Nat snaps—too quickly. She regrets the bite the second it leaves her mouth. "I did it with Jackie, I'll do it with y/n." They wouldn't have wanted anyone else to do this, anyway, she leaves unsaid, tightening the seatbelt around her waist as she prepares to face the howling wind outside.

Unlike when she was carrying Jackie's bones to the plane, Nat doesn't stop to look back this time. God forbid she let the entire cabin see the way tears had started to spring to her eyes.

The wind batters against her exposed skin as the door to the cabin opens, but it does little to deter her as she steps out into the air, kicking the door shut behind her.

Your bones are already packed—neat, contained. A far cry from Jackie’s, scattered and scorched, cradled in a sheet like the aftermath of a storm. No, she takes you with far more care. She’d watched as Shauna carved your body open, face stone-still. She hadn’t looked away—not once. 

Because in the end, wasn’t it her fault?

I was calling For the last time

"Have you seen y/n?" Nat asks, voice casual, maybe too casual, as she kicks snow from her boots. Another empty-handed hunt. "Found a piece of scrap wood. Figured they’d want it—been carving a lot, lately." She glances at the fireplace, the mantle lined with various woodland creatures and other shapes. 

Mari makes a face and shakes her head, stirring the pot of… belt soup. Yum. "Nah, not since we crashed last night, I think." She pauses, considering. "Wait. Actually—yeah. I don’t think I’ve seen them since we fell asleep." She glances up at Nat, "Aren't you two like… besties? Shouldn't you know where they are?"

That makes Nat's jaw tense. Last night? 

So the last time anyone saw you—was before they all fell asleep?

"Lot?" Nat whips her head around, looking for the former center back. "You seen them? You're always awake before anyone else?" She tries to steady her voice, but it’s already starting to shake—just like her hands.

Lottie considers Nat's question for a moment before shaking her head. "Not that I can remember."

Nat makes a slight sound and immediately throws on her boots again, preparing to go back out into the snow. "I gotta… this isn't like them. They wouldn't just vanish like this without a trace. It isn't like them."

"Wait, you're going back out?" Travis glances up from where he had sat near the fire, "Nat, we just spent hours out there. Maybe they're just taking a walk, or something." He dismisses her like she dismissed his concerns about Javi, but Nat doesn't hear any of it.

"If I'm not back by sunset, come looking for me." It's all the response she gives before she's out the door for the second time that day, trying not to give in to the panic that threatens to overwhelm her.

The walk to the plane feels longer than usual, her steps burdened by the heavy weight she carries—metaphorical and physical. The wind shrieks through the trees, dragging icy fingers across her cheeks, and she doesn't bother to wipe the tears that freeze as soon as they fall.

It feels wrong to bring you here. You don't belong here.

Sure, she did it with Jackie. But that had been about closure. Ritual. This? This is different.

This is a goodbye she hasn't earned, a goodbye she doubts that she'll ever earn.

The crunch of snow under her boots becomes almost unbearable. Rhythmic. Final. She wonders if you would've said something poetic about it—some half-assed line you'd mutter just to make her roll her eyes and secretly smile.

She tightens her grip on the bundle in her arms.

No, not a bundle. Not firewood. Not a pack of furs, or a dead buck.

You.

She hates how light you are now, all the weight of the meat and flesh that you had once worn cut from the bone, resting inside the stomachs of anemic and tachycardic teenagers who didn't value your sacrifice nearly as much as they should have.

The hull of the plane creaks as Nat steps into it, kicking her snow-covered boots on the floor as she walks towards the seat you had sat in when the plane went down, placing your bones carefully onto the cushions. A deep sigh leaves her as she kneels, her hands reverently splaying over the bag that carries you. "Fuck. I should’ve found you sooner." Her voice cracks, "I should've—you wouldn't have… if I'd just—" She presses a hand to her mouth as her eyes squeeze shut, "God, I'm so sorry."

We'd been here before  They found pictures in the snow

"Y/N!" Nat calls out, boots crunching through the snow that had settled over the past few days. "C'MON! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" She tries to coat it in anger, but you’d know better. You’d hear the crack—the fear under it.

It's been over an hour since she left the cabin. 

An hour of calling your name. 

An hour of holding her breath like that could keep the worst from happening.

The sun is starting to set over the horizon, and she knows that she doesn't have much time left before it becomes too dark even to find her way back to the cabin, so she heads to the last place she thinks you would be. Maybe it's the first place she should have gone, but this has always been a spot you two visited together. Why would you go there alone?

So, she makes her way to this small alcove that the pair of you had found over the summer, before you were worried about starving, before you were concerned about freezing to death in a cabin surrounded by malnourished and fatigued teenagers.

When she approaches the clearing, she almost sighs in relief when she sees your form, lying supine on the ground and staring at the treeline. But you're still. Too still.

"Oh, Jesus-Fucking-Christ, dude. You scared the shit outta—"

The snow underneath your arms is stained a dark crimson colour, the exact colour that Nat had seen game bleed after she had successfully landed a fatal shot between their eyes. 

"No—" Her voice breaks, all semblance of sanity gone out the window. "No. No. No—" 

She drops to her knees adjacent to your lifeless form, hands on your shoulders as she shakes you vigorously. "No, you aren't fucking doing this to me! You know I can't fucking do this with—without—" The first sob falls from her lips when it finally sets in just how pale and waxen you are. 

Nothing else matters now. Her ears begin to ring, drowning out the already muted sounds of the forest, and she presses her forehead into your shoulder as the tears begin to streak down her cheeks. Her words collapse into broken sobs, muffled by your jacket as she clings to you like she could anchor you in place. Like if she just held on tight enough, you wouldn’t leave her again.

The silence in the plane feels just like the clearing.

Still. Too still.

Her hands, still red-raw from the cold, twitch as she brushes a bit of frost off the bag holding your bones. The skin is tight and shiny, fluid-filled sacs blooming at her knuckles—painful reminders of how long she's been in the cold, of what she'd do just to carry you back here herself.

"You looked so peaceful," she murmurs. "I fucking hated that." A scoff leaves her throat, watery and laced with pain. "You never looked like that when you were…" alive. 

Nat's jaw tenses as she looks down at the ripped-up carpet that lines the plane floor, blood-stained and perfectly resembling the emotional turmoil that bubbles beneath the surface. 

"Even when you were sleeping, you… your eyebrows were always pressed together, y'know? Like you couldn't get peace even when you slept." A beat, "I… God, y/n. I hope you've found some fucking peace."

She wants to hate you. She really does. She wants to lash out and tell your bones how selfish you were—but she can't. No matter how hard she tries, how hard she tries to push anger to the surface, you were never someone she could hate, not even when you stole her laces before Regionals last year and made her faceplant in front of the entire goddamn school.

No, you were always the best of them.

I could tell your eyes  Looked beneath the blue

It's well past nightfall when Travis and Gen find her.

Nat sits next to your body, face devoid of all and any emotion, fingers plagued blue and curled in on themselves with superficial frostbite. Her body's stopped shivering—given up on the core instinct to keep warm.

Her thousand-yard stare cuts through Travis as he kneels before her, his voice falling on deaf ears. 

All she can see is you. 

All she can hear is you. 

All she can feel is you.

The world feels as though it's been submerged in water as she's helped to her feet and back to the cabin. 

It isn't until Gen mentions something about coming back to retrieve your body in the daylight that Nat flinches.

"No—" Nat immediately rasps out, her senses returning to her as she struggles out of Travis's grasp. "N-no. We won't… we aren't gonna… not like we did Jackie. We won't. I won't let us. I won't. I won't. I won't. I w—" She chokes on her own words, falling back down to her knees adjacent your corpse. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry—"

Travis says something. A reassurance. An empty string of syllables that don’t matter. 

She doesn't hear it. His words bleed into a static sound that floods her senses and threatens to consume her whole, almost like the darkness that had consumed you.

The walk back to the cabin is a blur. Someone boils snow for a bath. Nat doesn't speak. Doesn't look up. She lets them peel off her coat, strip her down, and lower her in like a doll.

The water stings. She doesn't flinch.

She doesn't even feel it.

Her knees ache against the floor, but she doesn't budge from her position.

The plane is cold. Not wilderness cold—ghost cold. The kind of chill that sinks deeper than skin and doesn't go away, no matter how many layers you wear or how many nights pass.

Nat stares at the bag holding your bones—at you. Her fingers twitch again. She wants to open it. Wants to unzip it, lay you out, see you—but she's afraid of what won't be there. The parts of you that were taken, that they took, that she took.

Her throat tightens. She exhales sharply through her nose.

"'member what you said that one night?" she murmurs. "The night the plane crashed? That if you died out here, you wanted to go out with a bang?"

A weak laugh huffs out of her. Her hand moves slowly, trembling against her will, as it comes to rest over the bag.

"Well. I'm sorry it wasn't as exciting as you had hoped." A pause. "Y'did get eaten though, which you'd argue is pretty cool, but…" The laugh she attempts doesn't make it past an attempt—the sound coming out far more broken and frail than intended. "It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not you."

I woke underneath the trees For the first time

"Here," Shauna says quietly, holding out a pale heart with areas of purplish mottling to Nat, "you should be the one to do it."Nat's lip trembles as she delicately takes the heart—your heart—from Shauna's hand, cradling it like it might still beat. It's still cold from being in the elements for so long, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from the fireplace. 

She debates speaking for a long moment, but decides that words wouldn't mean much right now, not in front of a crowd of people you had grown a strong distaste for in the previous months. 

Before she can talk herself out of it, she takes a bite out of your right ventricle, the taste of congealed blood and half-frozen viscera coats her tongue, metallic and wrong. 

She nearly gags. 

So, she swallows hard. Forces it down. As quickly as it entered her mouth, it leaves, sliding past the lump in her throat like it might claw its way back up.

Nat stares at the half-eaten heart in her hands, slick and heavy with blood that no longer belongs to anyone.

She can't do it.

Not all of it.

With a sudden, shaky breath, she stands and crosses to the fire.

"You don't deserve this," she mutters—not to you, but to them.

And before anyone can stop her, she tosses the heart into the flames.

It hisses as it hits the heat, blood bubbling on contact. The smell is awful, but Nat doesn't flinch. She watches it burn until it's blackened and cracked, until nothing that once loved or was loved remains.

Only then does she turn her back to the fire and let the rest of them have their feast.

"I'm sorry, y/n," are the last words she speaks to you as she takes off the necklace that dangles around her neck—a rifle bullet on a long silver chain—and places it into the bag where your bones rest, and will remain until the ground thaws.

Nat doesn't look back as she leaves the plane, but she never forgets how your inanimate body looked when she found you there—your once bright eyes dimmed and devoid of life, your once beautiful laugh snuffed beneath the oppressive weight of the winter snow.

No, Natalie never forgets you, just like she never forgives herself.

a/n: we take a break from our regularly scheduled angsty-smut for just angst. anyways, back to you, angsty-smut! (translation: 'light up floor' next)

[angelicchris]

at your worst | chris sturniolo

part 1 | part 2

in which ₊˚ the happiest triplet is the one who’s quietly struggling.

˖⋆࿐໋ for all my lovelies who find themselves having to play a happy role for others, while they’re actually at their lowest (me too ᡣ𐭩)

honourable mention ⊹ ‧₊˚ for all my glass children

word count ₊˚ 883

══════════ ୨୧ ══════════

chris found himself laying awake at night, staring at his ceiling, with some random background music playing on his tv. he had initially tried to listen to his favourite artists—skies, travis, mac— to try to find it in himself to be happy, but he just couldn’t. normally music was his go-to for feeling better, or a hug from one of his brothers, but chris felt as if he would be burdening them if they found out what was really, truly happening inside his head.

his entire life, chris was the triplet who was the happiest. he was the one always smiling, always cracking jokes to try and bring others up if they were feeling low. this fact was something even his fans picked up on, noting how chris was the triplet who had changed the least throughout their growing fame, and was usually the one always joking around with his brothers in their videos. unbeknownst to chris, this role he established—both within his family and fans—had taken a toll on him, and lead to a lack of expressing his feelings, unless they were positive.

still staring at the ceiling and the intricate cracks of white paint that ran along it, chris felt a tear roll down the side of his right eye, landing on his pillow. he reached up and wiped his eye, wishing, hoping that he could fix whatever was wrong with him and his mind. he considered talking to one of his brothers about his sadness, but they both have their own lives and their own problems. chris hated to say it, but matt was the one who openly struggled with mental health the most in their family, and chris knew that he would feel guilty taking any attention away from matt and his struggles. he thought, deep down, that if he told matt, maybe he’d understand what he’s feeling, but, does chris even know what he’s feeling?

having enough of this, chris sits up, turning off his tv, and leaves the comfort of his room, finding himself walking up the stairs to their kitchen table. chris looks around—he notices an empty can of pepsi he left on the counter from earlier, nick’s headphones lying on the table, a half-completed lego poinsettia set that matt had been working on—and, he’s unsure why, but seeing this causes more tears to well in his eyes. his brothers, who were a constant variable in his life, yet who he felt as if he was letting down. “i can’t do this,” chris said, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes, hard. “i can’t, i can’t,” he continued to cry. having to act like there was nothing burdening his mind—in front of both his brothers and his fans—was finally catching up to him. chris wasn’t even sure what was causing this sadness within him. he had everything he could have ever wished for—a loving family, loving friends, a roof over his head—so, for the love of God, why was he feeling like this?

chris’ continuous sobs from the kitchen were enough to draw the attention of his older brother, matt. rubbing his eyes, confused, having been awoken from his unconscious state, matt checks the time on his phone. 4:36 a.m. he knew him and his brothers had a fucked up sleep schedule, but this was different. removing himself from the comfort of his blanket, his stuffed pug falling precariously onto the floor, matt makes his way into the hallway. as he nears the kitchen, he hears the sobs becoming louder and louder—the sobs of his younger brother, chris.

“chris?” matt says cautiously. chris looks abruptly over his shoulder at the voice, caught off guard. “oh,” he says, wiping his eyes and cheeks as quickly as he can. “hey matt,” chris sniffles a little, but tries to act as if nothing had just happened. “why are you up?” chris asks his brother. “i was about to ask you the same thing..” says matt, confused. “couldn’t sleep,” replies chris, staring straight ahead at a wall. “were you.. crying?” unsure of how to reply, chris pauses for a moment, then musters up a fake, boneless laugh. “i don’t cry,” states chris, jokingly or not, matt couldn’t tell. “chris, what’s wrong?” “God matt, nothing’s wrong, can’t you just knock it off?” chris, who was always the one asking him if he was okay, the one always making him smile, offering him a hug, was now sitting alone at their table, using his own arms as a shield, a tight embrace around his own fragile state. matt pauses for a moment, unsure of how to respond to his brother’s newfound behaviour, before deciding on the truth. “i heard you crying while i was sleeping.” what matt hadn’t expected, however, was for this revelation to trigger something within chris. “i said i’m fine, why can’t you just learn to mind your own business for once in your goddamn life, matt? geez.” chris abruptly pushes up from his spot at the table, making his way over to the stairs leading to his room, matt quickly following his brother’s strides. “chris, please..” matt pleads, not exactly sure what for. before he could receive a response, he’s greeted with a door slamming in his face, the rusty turn of a lock following suit.

it hurts to see you hurt the only ones who love you at your worst

══════════ ୨୧ ══════════

part 2 (final) out now x

notes ⋆. 𐙚 ₊˚

my oh my, my first fanfic ᡣ𐭩.

i honestly thought about the plot of this in my sleep, and i woke up and just kinda wrote about it.

i’m not too sure how i like this, i kinda cringed at my own writing, esp when chris & matt were talking w one another. ik i’m gonna cringe at this when i look back in a few years and see how much my writing has (hopefully) progressed, and, honestly, i can’t wait ᡣ𐭩

i’m interested to know if any of you are actually interested in writings like this, where there’s no female character/interest. ik most fanfics on here are kind of centered around romance involving the triplets, so i thought i would try something a little different that explored their relationships w one another (i didn’t forget nick, i promise)

to everyone who made it to the end, thank you so much, it means the world to me ᡣ𐭩. if u couldn’t bring yourself to read the whole thing, thank you for still taking a chance on my writing and i ᡣ𐭩

all my love x

[misayani]

KISS ME NOW — NATALIE SCATORCCIO × FEM READER

𝒾. TEXT you weren't sure if you had a chance with her, a small part of you hoped that she felt the same. lucky for you, she did.

𝒾𝒾. CONTENT confessions, nat in denial, kissing, reader crushing on nat since who knows when

𝒾𝒾𝒾. MISA'S THOUGHTS inspired by ptv's latest single !!!! love love

You didn't believe them. You didn't believe that Natalie was wasting time to hook up with Travis instead of hunting. Or maybe you just didn't want to believe that Travis had a chance with Nat when you didn't. But in all honesty, you believed that Natalie wouldn't do something like that.

You find her by the river.

The others were still arguing back at the cabin. It started earlier when Nat and Travis came back from hunting empty-handed, which made Jackie mad and accuse Nat for running for mayor for Pound Town or some shit. Things escalated from there.

Natalie left mid-argument, and no one came along to stop her. No one cared enough to. But you did— you always do.

The lantern you took shakes in your hand as you walk pass the trees. The night was cold and quiet, your boots cracking against twigs and leaves. And finally—there she is. Sitting on a huge rock with her elbows rested on either side of her thighs.

"Natalie," you breathe, quietly approaching the bleach-blonde.

She doesn't turn.

You got closer, the faint smell of cigarettes lingering in the air filled your nose, sharp and familiar.

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

A snicker. "Neither should you." She says, voice low, almost bitter. "But here you are."

You step closer, heart hammering in your throat. The moonlight cut across her face, catching on the smudged eyeliner on her bottom eyelids. She looked cold—in a sharp way—and her fists were clenched. Still, somehow, you're drawn to her like a moth to flame. 

She finally looks at you, her gaze immediately landing on your flushed face and tired eyes. "What, you come to yell at me too?"

You shook your head quickly, "No." you swallow, "Just.. didn't want you to be alone."

She huffs. Right. 

"You always do that." She mutters.

"Do what?"

"Follow me. Worry about me. Like I'm gonna break if you don't."

You blink, unsure what to say. 

"I don't need saving." She says sharply.

"I never said you did." You snapped back.

Nat rolls her eyes, turning her head to look away. 

"Then why are you here?" 

Silence follows, you clutch the hem of your jacket tightly, hesitating to say something back.

Your voice is quieter now. "Because I care."

And there it is. No taking back now.

Her eyebrows scrunch together. She looks at you again, like, really looks. The wind picks up, blowing strands of her hair across her cheek. She doesn't move to brush them away.

She looks ethereal.

Natalie gulped. "You always look at me like you want something," she says, almost accusing. "But you never take it."

Your breath catches. You weren't prepared for that. 

"Then stop running away and kiss me." 

Holy shit? You thought. Holy shit. Natalie thought.

Silence.

And then—she's on her feet, stepping away from the rock, and now she's standing right in front of you. Her breath mixes with yours in the cold night air. She reaches out, her hand hovering near your jacket, unsure if she was allowed to touch you. 

"You sure?" She asks, voice tight, like she's fighting herself to crash her lips onto yours hard then and there.

You nod, "I'm sure."

She grabs the front of your jacket and pulls you forward, her rough lips crashing onto your soft ones. 

Natalie kisses hard. But that wasn't surprising. It's not soft, it's not sweet. It's the perfect mix of wild and desperation. Like she's been wanting to do this for a long time.

She tasted like cigarettes too, but apart from that, she tasted good. 

Your bring up both of your hands to cup her jaw softly, tilting your head to kiss the woman better. She sucks on your bottom lip, her breath getting heavier as you both inhaled each other.

She's the one to pull away first as your hands fall to your sides.

A pang of disappointment hits you softly, you wanted more. Your eyes searched her expression for something, anything. 

And for the first time since you've known her, Natalie Scatorrcio looks like she might be afraid—not of you, but of whatever the hell is happening between the two of you.

You try to steady your voice, "Is there something wrong, Nat?"

She scoffs under her breath, turns slightly, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Don't do that."

You frowned and tilted your head, "Don't do what?"

"I— I.. Ugh!" She groans, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. "Act like you're making it mean something."

You flinch. It stings already more than you wanted it to. "Because it does." You replied, lifting your right hand to reach out, but you slowly bring it back down once she looks away from you.

She paces a few steps away from you, her hands shoved deep inside the pockets of her jacket, her shoulders tense. 

You bit your bottom lip, nervously waiting.

She finally speaks again, "You think I haven't noticed? The way you look at me when you think no one notices. The way you always defend me during fights and— fuck." Her voice breaks slightly, "you're not that subtle, you know?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, "I wasn't trying to be."

She turns back, and there's something in Natalie's eyes—not just fire anymore, but something trembling underneath it. 

"You shouldn't want this."

You step forward. "Why?"

"Because I'm fucked up," she says plainly, like it's a fact. "And you? You're.. you're better than this. Better than me."

Your heart aches. You wish you could make her see what you do, all her mess and fury, but also the way she's never once let someone else suffer alone. Natalie was the type of friend who was always there for someone, to defend them, and then not accept it when someone does it back for her.

It's the way she gives her last protein bar to Lottie when she needed it. It's the way she was the first to volunteer to carry Coach Ben's stretcher to go to the lake. It's the way she leaves when she's angry because she doesn't want to say something she'll regret.

It was the 'small' things she did that you noticed.

You shake your head. "You don't get to decide what I want."

"And— the others— they already think I'm getting my way with Travis or some shit. But fuck no. That's not— we tried to hunt but we didn't find anything, I swear-" she protests, ranting.

You cut her off. "I know. I don't believe them. It just wasn't right to accuse you of something like that."

"That.. that didn't sound like something you would do. And so I didn't believe it." You exhale shakily, and Natalie goes quiet again.

Then, in a whisper, you hear her say, "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

She looks up, doubtful. "You don't know that." Natalie's voice wavers, as she shakes her head.

You speak again, "I'd rather be hurt by you than spend another night pretending I don't feel this." 

Something in her breaks—you see it. The tiniest shift. She exhales, long and shaky, and suddenly she reaches out to touch your hand. You accept it, slowly taking her hand into yours. 

She holds them like she's testing something fragile. Like she's still deciding whether this is real.

"You scare me," she admits.

You smile, just a little. "You scare me, too."

Then she leans in again, not like earlier. Slower this time. Softer. When her lips brush yours again, it's not a crash; it's a question. 

And this time, you answer it.

[natsrealgf]

Queen’s duty

Natalie Scatorccio x fem!reader

Summary: in which Natalie’s role as queen takes a toll on your relationship

Wc: 1.5k

Authors note: happy pride month my lovelies

You know it’s childish unfair even but some part of you just can’t help but be hurt by it all.

You try to pinpoint the moment your relationship changed when it started deteriorating when you started wondering if things would ever go back to the way they were.

All your life Natalie was your person and you were hers it never mattered that you came from different backgrounds, had personality’s that were almost the exact opposite of one another or how many people asked you how you two were even “friends” to begin with, unaware of the true nature of your relationship with Natalie. It was like you two were connected by an invisible string that always managed to pull you to one another, if you believed in that kind of thing you’d say you two were fated to each other.

You go to your shared hut to grab the riffle to go hunting. Now that Natalie is queen the responsibility of keeping a team of starved slightly insane teenage girls and one Travis Martinez falling completely on you. Not that you mind any excuse to be away from any of them feeling like a blessing to you.

You can’t help but roll your eyes as you see Natalie talking with Lottie again since the latter had nominated your girlfriend queen of the insane she’d been glued to her, quietly worshiping her, drinking in her every word it made you sick to your stomach. Before the sudden change of roles the two couldn’t stand each other to the point you had begged your girlfriend to give Lottie a break how you regret it now.

You’re so entranced in your own thoughts that you don’t see her approaching you, the person responsible for your inner turmoil.

“Hey, wait up.” She calls out to you attempting to grab your attention.

“What.” You respond in a monotone voice.

She catches up to you, falling into step beside you. "You’re not going to watch Vans show?" She questions with a glimmer of hope in her eyes that makes your stomach sink even if only a little bit.

“Do I have to?” You counter. Another thing that’s been pissing you off having to do whatever she tells you to. Sure, you’re aware that your relationship with Natalie doesn’t give you special treatment over the others or at least it shouldn’t but it still stings to get treated like everyone else like, you’re just like everyone else, a mere subject or another mouth to feed.

“I mean Van’s been working so hard…” She starts voice guarded like she’s talking to a wild animal.

“Are you asking me to go or telling me I have to ?” You question unable to hide the slight irritation in your voice.

"I’m not forcing you to do anything I was checking in." Natalie replies, voice deceptively sweet.

“And I deeply appreciate it. My queen.” You add as you bow to her mockingly.

Natalie laughs, short and cold. There's an edge to her gaze now, bitter and cutting. "Real nice." She responds.

You look at her for a few seconds pondering if you should respond before you decide against it and turn around heading into the dense forest. Natalie doesn’t try to follow she knows better so she just runs a hand through her hair, slightly tugging at the roots in frustration as she watches you leave again.

You wonder aimlessly for hours strutting through the woods with practiced ease. You can’t help but think of happier times before your hope turned into fear. Before survival was your only goal if this is survival does it matter surviving at all? Even after the plane crashed you still had Natalie through the dread and uncertainty she was your constant like she always had been. You missed the time when you were her only worry how she’d run to you after an unsuccessful hunt looking for comfort, how she’d kiss your head before leaving at dawn, you missed the sound of her voice, the way she held you steadily through the night like you were something worth holding on to.

You notice the sun setting and decide to head back to camp meat in hand for Shauna to prepare you were absent during dinner unable to face Natalie.

When you decide to return to your shared hut she’s already inside curled up in a ball staring at the wall of the enclosed space.

You lay next to her hoping she’ll initiate some form of contact with you. She turns her head, her eyes landing on you. In the dim light, her face is soft, and it hurts to look at. You look at her expectantly trying to convey what you want through your gaze. Your face touches her shoulder as you give her the best puppy dog eyes look you can muster. Natalie ever unable to say no to you or resist your pleading sighs before she moves, turning her body to yours completely. Her hands reach for you, tugging gently on your clothes as she pulls you close. She wraps her arms around you and buries her face into your shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of you. In this moment, nothing else matters but this and you cling to her like holding on will keep her from slipping further away.

“You’ve been nothing but an absolute asshole the whole entire day and now you come here asking for cuddles." She huffs but you don’t miss the way her hold on you tightens. You don’t have an answer to that so you just melt into her further closing your eyes for a second relishing in the comfort and familiarity she brings.

Because what were you supposed to say? That you miss the time when she was just yours when she didn’t have the responsibility to care for the entire team instead of just you?

Natalie can’t help but scoff, a humorless laugh escaping her. “Asshole” She repeats before she tightens her arms around you, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between the two of you. She relishes the feel of your body against hers, the way your breath tickles her skin and your heart beats against her chest.

She runs a hand through your hair, her touch gentle. "You don't gotta play cute to get me to forgive you, you know ." She adds.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness.” You counter.

"No, just asking for attention then. That it?" She snorts, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice.

She relaxes a little, her fingers tracing light patterns on your back. It's an unconscious gesture, a habit she's developed over the months of being stranded here. You’re still mad at her though- that much is clear.

“I didn’t know my presence was such a burden your highness” You blurt out. Getting increasingly irritated by her dismissal.

“That’s not fair. You know that’s not what I was saying-“

“Isn’t it?”

Natalie narrows her eyes, the earlier exhaustion giving way to irritation. She doesn't appreciate being misunderstood, or having her words twisted. "You’ve been distant. Ever since I took over. You won't tell me why. You avoid me. I reach out and all I get is attitude. You wanna know why I called you out? Because I’m tired. I’m tired of trying."

You’re eyes fill with tears at that there it was tired tired of trying tired of you.

Her expression falters upon seeing your tears. Her anger fizzles out, replaced by a feeling like an anchor weighing heavy on her chest.

"Hey- no, I didn’t- I-" She stutters, feeling guilt well up inside her.

“Didn’t what? Didn’t mean it? Yes you did.” You say making a poor attempt at maintaining your voice steady.

"Yes. But not like that. Look- it’s been hard. Being in charge, trying to keep everyone together. Trying to keep everyone alive. And it’s harder when you do nothing but give me attitude all day."

“You’re the one acting like our relationship is another one of your chores.” You say as you attempt to wipe the tears that slide down your face without your permission.

Natalie's expression hardens, pain flashing in her eyes. The words send a jolt through her, hitting a nerve. "You know that's not true." She retorts, her voice sharp. She can’t believe that you think she sees being with you as a chore. "I'm trying. I'm doing my best, and I don’t need you making it more difficult."

“Or maybe you don’t need me at all”

“What are you saying.” Now it’s her turn to start crying. The thought of losing you one unbearable to her.

But you don’t respond before leaving your shared hut both you and her knowing what it meant. Natalie just stands paralysed inside what was previously your shared space unable to understand what happened, how could she let it happen, how she just lost the best thing in her life only because she failed to realised how much she was neglecting you.

Morning comes, she searches the camp asks for you there’s no sign of you, an uneasy feeling settles into her chest. Before she lets it linger she makes a decision.

She will get you back.