#And their ways of not just saying those 3 words
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DON'T KNOW HOW
Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige is high off a great game and wants to celebrate by fucking you in her jersey. Warnings: sexual content (SMUT, FILTHY FR BEWARNED), strap, slight humiliation, breeding kink, language, etc etc Wordcount: 4K A/C: this is my 1K followers surprise for y'all! YOU FINALLY GET STRAP ik you guys been begging for it (freaks). anyway thank you so much for all of you for supporting me and reading what i write, i appreciate it a lot more than you guys even know. never thought i'd have 1k followers on here so tysm, ily all <3 now go have some fun reading (ok especially to my moots ilysm, i am so fucking happy i met all of you i love each and every single one of you so bad and i always always always got your back, ty for being the best people in the world)
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“And it’s good, another three for Bueckers.”
“She's on fire. Been hitting those all night and making it look effortless too.”
“Seventh three of the night wow.”
The entire evening Paige had been like a sniper, shots going in with even more ease than normal. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her blonde ponytail, the wide shoulders nearly too big for the navy Uconn jersey, glistening with sweat as the fourth quarter comes to an end. 31 points. You couldn’t be prouder to call her your girlfriend.
The crowd stands up, you jumping up and down and clapping with them, the white jersey tucked into your bra to crop it, proudly carrying your girl’s name on your back. Another victory for Uconn, as your girlfriend allows herself a small smile after the extraordinary game she just played. You wait patiently. What feels like close to an hour of the blonde shaking hands, signing jerseys and giving out interviews she finally meets your eyes from the opposite side of the court, jogging towards you.
“Babyyy!” You gleam as she wraps her strong, sticky arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Seven threes is crazy,” you praise your girlfriend.
“Yeah?” Paige asks, a smug grin on her face as she pulls back and looks at you. “Missed two cause my girl look so fine.”
An involuntary blush spreads to your face as the girl’s blue eyes scam your body up and down.
“You like?” You ask with a sly smile, twirling for her. Paige lets out a low whistle, hand coming to hold your waist.
“Fuck you look hot in that jersey,” she murmurs, eyeing the way it sits on your body. You can see it in your girlfriend’s eyes - the way they were darkening in the way they always did when she needed you.
Feeling flustered, you decide to change the topic, knowing she shouldn’t be eyefucking you in front of these cameras and fans. “So are we still going out with the team tonight? We should celebrate your big win baby.”
Paige laughs hoarsely, in that fuckboy way she does. “We ain’t going out mama, we going straight home.”
You know exactly what she means. Exactly what would happen when you get home. The idea is already making your stomach flip.
“Paige… It was a big night for you, we sh-”
“No disrespect but you need to shut up,” she sternly silences you. “You really think you’re gon’ look like this and not be folded in half in about an hour? Baby, c’mon.”
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“Paige stop!” You giggle, her hands holding your waist underneath the jersey, fingertips against your bare skin squeezing as she kisses your neck hungrily. Your hands are fumbling with the key, attempting to open the door to your apartment. Something you were finding extremely hard as the blonde behind you presses her hips into yours, sucking a dark red mark on your neck.
“Open the door,” Paige pants, her voice breathy and hoarse. It’s more a command than a request. Finally, you turn the key and the girl pushes you in with urgency, closing the door behind you.
Before you can say a word, the blonde is throwing you over her shoulder, making you squeal and giggle.
“Put me down!”
“No ma’am,” she laughs, long strides heading towards the bedroom fast. With a grunt your girlfriend lowers you onto the bed, landing you on the soft mattress. Both of you are giggling as she eyes you on the bed, licking her lower lip.
“Wait here baby,” she coos, disappearing into the walk-in wardrobe. Once she returns, there’s an apparent bulge underneath the grey basketball shorts. Your imagination begins to go wild, heat growing between your thighs at the idea of what she had strapped on underneath. Paige had done it before, coming up behind you, the strap poking into your ass under her sweats to let you know what she was in the mood for. It drove you completely wild each time.
“Take your clothes off,” the blonde commands from the doorway, pulling her hoodie off and throwing it on the floor. You know what happens when Paige wants something and doesn’t get it, so you kick off the boots and denim skirt you’re wearing. Your girlfriend follows every move with watchful eyes, tutting once your fingers begin to tuck the jersey off.
“Leave that shit on,” Paige says, walking over to you on the bed. You lie on your back, watching up at her in the sheer white panties and white jersey and an unbearable ache between your thighs.
Paige’s shoulders look broad and filled out in the black sports bra she’s wearing, lower lip trapped between her teeth as her fingertips brush against the soft skin of your thigh.
“Look so fucking sexy,” she murmurs, her voice low and raspy. You needed her, badly. So you bring your hand to her core and just as you expected, feel the thick, purple strap underneath the fabric. Wrapping your fingers around the bulge, you rub it as if it’s her actual dick, just like the blonde liked to imagine.
Paige lets out a low groan, squeezing the skin on your thigh.
“You want it?” She asks. It’s not a genuine question, she knows the answer. She can tell by the way you’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together. The way your brows are furrowed in desperation.
“I do,” you whimper, biting your lip and blinking up at the girl with round eyes in the way that drove her crazy. Works every time, and this is no exception, your girlfriend letting out a breathy sigh and throwing her head back.
“Yeah? How bad ma?” She asks, hand slowly inching closer to the edge of your panties, fingertips nearly sliding underneath.
“So bad baby,” you whine, arching your back, hand still working the strap through her shorts. “Just feel,” with a whimper, you grab the blonde’s hand teasing you and slide it inside your panties.
Both of you moan, your wetness covering her fingers the second she feels you.
“Fuck, you this wet just for me?”
“All for you baby,” you whimper. “Love watching you play.”
Paige grins, rubbing gentle circles on your clit already growing puffy and sensitive from how bad your body aches for her, the idea of her strap buried deep inside you making you eager, the wait nearly unbearable.
A sigh spills from your lips as the blonde pulls her hand away, her fingers coming to your mouth and slipping past your lips making you taste yourself. Your eyes flutter shut, lips wrapping around her long digits. Paige hisses, watching closely.
“That shit ain’t fair, I need to taste you too.”
With that, Paige is pulling you to the edge of the bed by your legs, kneeling on the floor face to face with your core. With a swift movement, the blonde’s fingers hook onto your panties and pulls them down.
“Holy shit baby I ain’t even fuck you yet, why you this wet?” Paige groans at the way your cunt glistens in the light, her arms wrapping around your thighs to hold you still for her. You could feel just how wet you were, your slick spilling out of you right under your girlfriend’s gaze.
“Couldn’t help it,” you whimper, attempting to buck your hips but for nothing. You weren’t going to be touched until Paige decided so.
“Yeah couldn’t help it cause you’re such a slut huh?”
The blonde’s lips roam your inner thighs, nibbling and sucking on the skin leaving behind little red marks as a reminder of the night for later.
“Answer me,” she demands, but it barely registers, her hot breath on your core forcing goosebumps to form all over your skin. It’s driving you wild, every inch of your body on fire for her.
Suddenly a hand reaches to your jaw and firmly grabs it, Paige tilting your face towards her.
“Answer me.”
Suddenly even more flustered, your face turns red, needing her even more. “Only for you Paige.”
“Good girl, now lie down.”
The girl lets go of your jaw and suddenly her mouth is on you, tongue everywhere in your folds, licking you up like she’s been starved for life. A loud moan escapes your mouth, hands immediately flying to the blonde, soft hair of your girlfriend.
She’s hungry for it, the victorious game leaving her starving. Her lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly, making you gasp and yank on her hair. But she won’t quit, hands coming to spread you further apart, trying to find a way to get closer in a moment of desperation.
“Oh… fuck baby,” you whimper, legs already shaking as she eats you, tongue swirling in your folds, moving from side to side. Paige hums against you, the sound vibrating against your cunt. She has you leaking like a faucet, not wasting a single drop as she kisses her way down, circling your entrance before her tongue slides in.
“P-paige,” you cry out, overwhelmed by the pace she was moving at, not giving your body time to adjust, leaving you breathless. But she couldn’t care less about your protest, eyes rolling back as she presses closer to you, the bridge of her nose pressing against your clit.
You’re squirming, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as you tug on her hair, whimpers quickly turning more high pitched.
“Perfect pussy,” she groans, practically just to herself. Her tongue presses flat against you in long licks along your slit. Biting your lower lip you look down at the blonde girl kneeled on the floor between your legs and for a moment your eyes meet hers.
With an arrogant smirk Paige brings her tongue flat onto your clit and shakes her head back and forth skillfully, knowing it drives you crazy each time. The glimmer in her eye doesn’t help, making your back arch and head tilt back against the mattress.
“Gonna fuck this pussy,” the girl murmurs against you, the tip of her tongue speeding up on your clit, flicking it back and forth. She’s determined to make you cum. And when Paige was determined, there was nothing that could stop her.
It doesn’t take more than a few minutes and your entire body’s writhing under Paige’s mercy. She’s desperately eating you up, taking turns working you with her tongue and mouth, sucking and licking everywhere. It’s overwhelming, too much and not enough at the same time.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as her tongue circles your clit.
“You gonna cum ma?”
“Yes, yes, fuck baby.”
Your hands are tugging on her hair hard, but the blonde doesn’t mind. The moans spilling from her mouth reveal quite the opposite. The familiar pit somewhere deep in your gut begins to burn, forcing your back to arch off the bed. The jersey on your body hikes up, Paige’s hand scratching on your lower stomach as she keeps working tirelessly, like the strain in her jaw wasn’t there.
“Paige I’m go-”
“Cum for me mama.”
And that’s enough, the coil in your stomach snapping the moment her words register in your hazy mind. The heat from your core spreads all over your body, waves of pleasure washing over you. The room is filled with the sounds of your high pitched moans, and the satisfied hums of the blonde between your legs sucking on your clit. Sweat drips down the back of her neck but it doesn’t matter. She’s not even close to done.
Paige stands up from the floor, leaving you trembling before her, still getting over your orgasm.
“Cmere,” Paige says, licking her lips hungrily and sliding her hand into her shorts to stroke the strap as if an extension of herself. Body still recovering, you do as you’re told knowing the blonde didn’t like waiting. Kneeling on the bed, your eyes flicker from the bulge under the fabric to her blue eyes looking down at you. They’re heavy and dark, her jaw prominent and chest heaving with need.
“Take em off,” she demands, your hands wasting no time finding the band of her shorts and pulling them to her ankles, revealing the purple strap underneath. Paige’s hands wrap around it and stroke, tapping the tip all over your face. Without much thought your mouth parts, eyes locked onto your girlfriend’s.
“Push your tongue out, be a good girl,” Paige groans, brows in a deep frown as she tries to catch her breath but it seems impossible with the way your big eyes stare up at her with your mouth open. She’s dizzy with want.
The moment your tongue slips out of your mouth, Paige is slapping the tip on it and moaning as if she could feel it herself - your warm mouth wrapping around her cock.
“That’s it, fuck ma,” Paige hisses, watching your tongue circling the length of the strap. “Get it wet for me.”
Bopping your head forward carefully, you take more of the strap into your mouth, saliva quickly building up and dripping down the corners of your mouth.
“Look so pretty baby,” the blonde coos, gathering your hair into her fist and holding it back for you. “You like sucking my cock?”
With a slight smile you nod with the strap still filling your mouth. The sight is enough to make your girlfriend moan, and her grip in your hair tightens as she forces the strap down your throat, making every inch disappear into your mouth.
“Mmph,” you whine, tears quickly welling up in your eyes. The sound of you gagging mingle with Paige’s low grunts, your nails digging into her muscular thighs. Paige can’t look away, you look too pretty to look away. Finally pulling on your hair, she allows you a second to gasp for air before returning and guiding your mouth on her cock, never breaking eye contact until your eyes roll back. Surely the strap was wet enough already, spit spilling from your mouth all over its length. But Paige is enjoying this too much to stop.
“You wanna get that pussy fucked huh?” The blonde grunts, pulling your head back with a string of saliva dripping down onto your chest.
“Please,” you whimper, your cunt throbbing, begging to feel the plastic inside you.
“Think you deserve it? Think you deserve my cock?”
“Baby need it,” you cry out, letting Paige rub the soaked tip against your lips and face, messing up your makeup. She always thought this was the best you looked, desperate, eyes red and glossy, mascara flaking underneath your eyes and begging for her. She couldn’t resist any longer.
“Turn around,” she murmurs and you do as she says, facing the other way on your hands and knees.
“Should I take the jersey off?”
“Keep that shit on ma,” Paige says sternly, hissing as she rubs the tip of the purple strap against your soaked folds. Already whimpering, you grip the soft sheets tightly, feeling the blonde’s hands caressing your ass and waist, lifting the jersey just enough to see your lower back. “Fuuuckkk baby,” she praises, watching as the strap begins to glisten just from the sheer wetness spilling out of you. “She crying for me huh?”
“Yes,” is all you can muster to say, stomach flipping as the tip teases your entrance, everything you wanted so close yet so far. Your slick is already dripping on the plastic, Paige letting out a shaky moan behind you at the sight.
“Shit, this pussy loves me,” she groans, gripping your hips and at last sliding the length inside you. A loud gasp escapes your body, the stretch so intense and powerful.
“Oh shiiiit,” Paige hisses, watching the way your cunt stretches around the strap, swallowing her up. The trembling of your body is immediate, the blonde leaning down and kissing over your shoulders and neck. “Feel good mama?”
“Y-yeah baby,” you’re still breathless, body slowly adjusting to the size.
“You tryna get fucked?”
“Mhm,” you hum, needy for your girlfriend to begin moving behind you. But she remains still.
Her big hand grips your ass harshly, slapping the skin leaving you with a slight burn. “Work for it mama, show me how bad you want it.”
You immediately know what she wants, craving to have you whimpering and pleading before she’ll give you what you crave. Paige always had to tease you just a little further than you could handle.
So you begin to move forward and back again, slowly pressing your ass against her. The strap slips in and out easily, but the size keeps you overwhelmed, slick dripping onto the sheets as you throw it back for your girlfriend, arching your back just right.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, legs already feeling weak, hands balled into fists as your girlfriend’s hand slaps your ass again, the sound echoing around the room.
“Look at that,” she praises, letting out a shaky low moan as the vibrator against her clit buzzes. But you can barely hear, mind spinning and not a single coherent thought in your head anymore. “Such a fuckin’ slut.”
The nickname makes you whine, craning your neck to see the blonde behind you, eyes locked onto where your body is swallowing her strap up. Her mouth is wide open and cheeks burning red, she wants it just as bad as you do.
Her blue eyes travel up your spine to the jersey, grabbing a handful of your hair to hold up. To allow her to admire the way the jersey fits your body. Her name, her number on you as she fucks you. It’s enough to get her bewildered.
Meeting your eyes the blonde smirks, chest heaving with need. “You like that? When I call you that?”
You nod, maintaining eye contact as you grind your hips back into her.
Paige shakes her head in disbelief, hissing again as the vibrator angles against her just right.
“Course you do, fuckin’ slut.”
Your upper body crashes against the bed, too tired to hold it up, ass remaining in the air.
“Paigeee,” you whine, begging for her to take control, legs too shaky to continue.
“What’s wrong mama?”
It’s almost sadistic, her tone. She knows exactly what’s wrong. But it wasn’t enough, Paige had to hear you say it, getting off on humiliating you just a little longer.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
You whine again in frustration, wiggling your ass in the air. But Paige remains stern.
“Fuck me,” you whimper, making the blonde smirk and lick her lower lip.
“Yeah? Is that what you want?”
You nod in desperation, letting her pull your face up from the sheets by your hair, other hand coming to hold your hip.
“Gonna fuck you so good,” she leans down and groans into your ear. “Gon’ fuck you until you cry.”
With that, her hips slam into you, the intrusion so intense you can’t help the way your eyes roll back. You gasp, Paige letting go of your hair and standing back up behind you, both hands on gripping your waist, fucking her hips into you at such a pace it’s making you see stars.
“Ohhh shit,” the blonde grunts, watching the way your ass jiggles as her hips slam against you. The sound of skin clapping and the squelching of the strap deep inside you fills the room, only thing cutting through are your joint moans.
“Baby fuck-” you cry out, part of you wanting to push her away from how crushing her thrusts are, the strap buried deep inside your soaked pussy.
“Look at you takin it, fuck baby,” Paige groans, right hand smoothing over her last name on the jersey. Over the number she wears each game. “Takin’ my dick while wearing my name. So fucking good f’me.”
Your cunt is throbbing, squeezing the strap making it hard to think clearly. You wanted more, wanted less, you weren’t sure. But you could feel your eyes growing wet against the sheets. Paige’s hand travels all the way up to your hair, grabbing it harshly and shoving your face into the mattress.
“You take it like a slut huh?”
You moan, feeling your slick dripping down your thighs, surely covering Paige’s legs now as well.
“Your slut baby,” you whimper, upper body pressed snug against the soft cotton as the blonde pounds her strap into you.
“Aww fuck- good girl,” Paige gasps, the vibrations having her legs shaking. With a swift movement, the blonde manhandles you onto your back, placing your legs onto her shoulders, sliding the purple strap back inside you.
“Need to see your face,” she groans, eyelids so heavy they’re barely open as she keeps fucking you. “Need to see you cum on my cock.”
“Baby, so big,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the blonde kneels on the bed and leans forward, folding you over with ease.
“Take it so well tho,” Paige coos, bringing her face to yours, hand wrapping around your neck as she keeps slamming her hips into you. That athlete’s stamina could have her going like this for an hour. “Gonna cum inside this pussy.”
Her words leave you a moaning mess, your hands scratching at her shoulders leaving red marks behind. “Fuck,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut.
“Fucking you so hard you’re gon’ have my kids.”
The squelching becomes louder, wetness dripping out of you as Paige’s strap hits deeper than before, making you gasp and scratch her soft skin harder.
“Aw- fuc- shit, ma that’s it. So deep in your guts,” she rambles, eyes beginning to roll back, trying to hold back on her orgasm. She brings her fingers between your legs, thumb beginning to rub lazy circles on your clit as the strap slips in and out of you, fucking into you at a rapid pace.
“P-Paige feel so good,” you cry out, gushing around the plastic desperately. Paige’s head lulls back and forth, fighting her orgasm.
“Mama I need to cum inside you, needa fill you with my cum,” the blonde whimpers, voice growing more high pitched as she nears the edge, fucking her hips into you with such force you think you might black out. The familiar burn ignites at her words, pussy throbbing around the plastic, muscles beginning to coil in your stomach.
“Shi- baby I need you to cum on my cock,” she gasps, eyes squeezing shut, grip around your neck tightening enough to make you lightheaded.
“Paige I-” You cry out, Paige’s thumb pressing into your clit and the tip of the strap hitting the perfect spot with each stroke.
“C’mon ma, lemme fill you up,” she whimpers desperately, legs shaking but never easing the pace. You can’t hold it anymore, letting go and allowing the fire to take over your body.
“Paige I’mma cum,” you gasp, the blonde letting out a moan of relief.
“Gonna cum inside you,” Paige grunts into your neck, as you lie underneath, helpless. Your back begins to arch off the bed, the blonde squeezing the sides of your neck and pinning you down, hips slamming into you. “Gonna fill this pussy aw- up- fuck.”
With that you’re both gasping, rolling over the edge as your climax takes over, pussy squeezing the strap tightly and gushing around it, all over the sheets and Paige on top of you.
“Oh shit-” Paige gasps, breath hot in your ear as she finishes, your mind blank as the ecstasy takes over your body, leaving you trembling underneath the girl, eyes shut tight.
“Holy shit,” the blonde murmurs, trying to catch her breath. Your chest is heaving and your face flushed. As your eyes flutter open, they’re met with the blue of Paige’s irises. She scooches both of you up the bed, crashing on top of you, the plastic still inside you, almost soothing. You wince as she pulls it out carefully, leaving you with an uncomfortable emptiness.
“You’re so great baby,” Paige sighs, resting her head in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms and legs around your girlfriend, pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “My number one girl.”
“You really like this jersey huh?” You chuckle as her pink lips kiss your collarbone, neck, jawline and finally your lips.
“Let’s everyone know you mine,” she coos, nuzzling her nose into you and rubbing the skin on your midriff where the fabric has hiked up.
“All yours baby,” you hum, body worn and tired but heart fluttering with love.
“All mine ma.”
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#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers x fem reader#paige bueckers fanfic#wnba smut#wnba x reader#Spotify
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say it back // bf! rafe cameron blurb (( tiktok trends mini-series ))
synopsis : you play a prank to not respond to rafe when he says ‘i love you’. suggestive warnings.
“Alright, i’m heading out. I’ll be back in a few hours. I love you baby.”
as he passes the couch, he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head. you smile sweetly his way and look up at him. “okay, be safe.”
rafe was already past the couch when he hears you stop talking and glances over his shoulder. “i will. love you, babe.”
you just send him an innocent wave and a cute grin. “okay, see you later.”
“…sigh..” the man exhales heavily as he briefly checks the time on his watch. “[name].” your name comes out almost as a warning as he starts taking strides over to you. “i don’t have time for these games. say it back properly.”
but determined to keep up the act, you swallow whatever nerves you had and muster up the courage to remain innocent. “i don’t know what you mean, babe?” you furrow your brows and look to the door. “you should get going though.”
“you’re right, i should.” rafe crosses his arms as he decides to test you once more. “so i’ll be going now.. i love you.”
“i like you too!”
rafe actually lets a laugh slip, except it was out of disbelief. “you know what—“
“w-wait, i-i love you, i’m sorry, it was a joke!” realizing he was losing his patience, you raise your hand defensively and he scoffs, grabbing your wrist and pinning you to the couch back behind you. “enough of your jokes- i think i’ll teach you a lesson instead.”
you flush at his words and stare into his eyes, a pink hue spreading over your cheeks while your legs cross underneath him, a small arousal growing at how aggressive he was being. “but you have to go- you’re supposed to meet with barry for a couple hours.”
“screw that, i’ll spend the next couple hours pounding those three words into your damn mind so you won’t ‘forget’ again.”
a/n : hope you enjoyed ! <3 i’ll probably be doing these for a bit while i get back into the groove of writing because i have been burnt out and feeling out of these days and these mini blurbs are easier to handle. let me know your thoughts!
#rafe cameron#obx x reader#rafe cameron x reader#obx rafe#obx rafe cameron#outer banks rafe#outerbanks rafe#rafe x reader#outer banks x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe cameron#rafe cameron hc#rafe cameron fluff#obx fluff#obx blurb#outerbanks x reader#outer banks rafe cameron
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hi, one of my favorite writers!
i never noticed your requests were open, so is it okay if you write about wanda x fem!reader where they have been in a relationship for almost 6 years, the longest in their friend group, their friends assume the worst because they love eachother like bestfriends. what i mean is that when their friends see them sleeping together, they both face the other way. or when they watch a movie, their isn’t much snuggling. but when they’re actually alone, they feel more comfortable with eachother, that their friends walk in on them being clingy to eachother. being a lowkey couple isn’t so bad compared to what their friends think type of trope!
thank you for your time, and i love your works. xo !
BEHIND CLOSE DOORS
pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
summary: after nearly six years together, your relationship with wanda is the longest-lasting one in your friend group. but to everyone else, you two don’t look like the typical couple. you don’t snuggle at movie nights, you sleep facing opposite directions at group sleepovers, and your friends quietly assume your spark is gone. little do they know, you and wanda are simply a lowkey couple—comfortable and deeply in love when the world isn’t looking. but when your friends accidentally stumble upon one of your private, clingy moments, they realize just how wrong they’ve been.
a/n: i had this request in my inbox for a long time and only noticed it these days. sorry for the delay and i hope you like it.
word count: 1,1k
warnings: fluff <3
“You and Wanda are basically like an old married couple,” Kate teased, nudging you with her elbow as you all sat around the coffee table for game night.
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” you replied, raising a brow as you stacked your deck for Uno.
“No! Not bad, just…” Kate trailed off, clearly trying to find the right words.
“Predictable,” Yelena finished bluntly, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“I mean, you don’t even sit next to each other during movie nights,” Natasha chimed in, smirking from her spot on the couch.
Wanda, who was sitting across from you, laughed lightly. “So? We’ve been together for six years. We don’t have to be glued to each other.”
“Yeah, but where’s the passion?” Kate asked, gesturing dramatically. “The fire? The hand-holding and constant cuddling?”
“We’re not 16,” you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from Wanda.
Your friends dropped the topic after that, but you could still see the curious glances they exchanged. You and Wanda didn’t fit their idea of what a couple should look like, but you didn’t really care. You and Wanda were fine just the way you were.
Living together for the past three years had only made your relationship stronger. You and Wanda had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that worked perfectly for both of you.
Your mornings started with quiet moments—Wanda making coffee while you scrambled eggs, sharing small smiles across the kitchen. Evenings were spent unwinding on the couch, reading, or binge-watching whatever show caught your attention that week.
You didn’t feel the need to be overly affectionate in public or around your friends because your bond didn’t rely on outward displays. It was in the little things: Wanda setting aside the last slice of pizza for you, or you remembering to buy her favorite tea when the supply at home ran low.
But your friends didn’t see those moments. They only saw the surface.
The first time your friends openly voiced their concerns, it was at Natasha’s apartment after a late-night movie marathon.
“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way,” Yelena started, her tone making it clear she was about to say something controversial.
“Here we go,” Wanda muttered under her breath, leaning against the arm of the couch.
“It’s just… are you two, like, okay?” Yelena asked hesitantly.
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve been together for so long, but you don’t act like it,” Kate interjected. “You’re more like… roommates or best friends.”
Wanda exchanged a look with you, her lips twitching in amusement. “Just because we don’t make out in front of you doesn’t mean we’re not fine.”
“Exactly,” you added. “We’re just not into PDA. That’s all.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two even hold hands.”
At that, you and Wanda burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” Wanda said, wiping a tear from her eye. “You guys are ridiculous.”
But the concern on their faces didn’t fade.
Later that night, back at your apartment, you and Wanda finally addressed the conversation.
“Do you think they really believe we don’t love each other?” you asked, pulling on a sweatshirt as you got ready for bed.
Wanda was already under the covers, scrolling through her phone. “Probably. But who cares? We know the truth.”
You climbed into bed beside her, resting your head on her shoulder. “Still, it’s kind of funny.”
“They think we’re boring,” Wanda said with a dramatic sigh, wrapping an arm around you.
You laughed. “If only they knew.”
Because behind closed doors, you and Wanda were anything but boring. You loved snuggling up during quiet afternoons, Wanda’s fingers tracing patterns on your arm as you watched TV. You teased each other endlessly, sharing inside jokes that no one else would understand.
And when it came to physical affection, it wasn’t something you felt the need to flaunt. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t there—it was in every kiss goodnight, every lingering touch, every whispered “I love you” before falling asleep.
\*/
The incident happened a week later. Your friends had come over to your apartment to hang out, and you had no idea they were still around when you wandered into the kitchen to find Wanda.
She was standing by the counter, scrolling through her phone, when you wrapped your arms around her waist from behind.
“Hi,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
Wanda smiled, setting her phone down to place her hands over yours. “Hi.”
“I missed you,” you admitted, resting your chin on her shoulder.
“You were in the living room five minutes ago,” Wanda teased, turning her head to kiss your cheek.
“Still missed you,” you said with a grin.
The sound of a dramatic gasp made both of you freeze. You turned to see Kate, Yelena, and Natasha standing in the doorway, their jaws practically on the floor.
“Oh. My. God,” Kate said, pointing a finger at you two. “You do like each other!”
Yelena burst out laughing. “This is amazing. I feel like I’ve just uncovered the world’s greatest secret.”
Natasha smirked. “So much for ‘just best friends.’”
Wanda rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Get over it, guys.”
But your friends didn’t let it go. For the rest of the night, they wouldn’t stop teasing you about how “different” you were when no one was watching.
After that, your friends seemed to accept that your relationship didn’t need to look like anyone else’s. They stopped questioning why you and Wanda weren’t overly affectionate in public, and they stopped assuming the worst.
And while you still preferred to keep most of your relationship private, you didn’t mind letting a little bit of your affection show.
“See?” Wanda said one day, lacing her fingers with yours as you walked into Joe’s Bar. “A little PDA won’t kill us.”
You grinned, squeezing her hand. “It’ll definitely keep them off our backs.”
From then on, your friends never doubted the love between you and Wanda again. Because whether you were holding hands in public or sharing quiet moments at home, your connection was undeniable.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen x you#wanda maximoff#elizabeth olsen#mcu
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Aftermath - Chapter 3
When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.
warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering.i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4.9k
(Extra special shout out to @nitaekook for beta reading and holding my hand through this fic 😂❤️)
Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Master List
“Where do you want these plates to go, my dear?” Jade asks from across the kitchen.
You glance up at her from your spot on the brand new couch that was just delivered to the new apartment that morning. You’re sitting cross legged unpacking a box of the few things that you had brought over from the old apartment. In the kitchen, your best friend Jade (who is also Arthur’s girlfriend of about a year thanks to your meddling) stands holding up one of the new plates that you bought with her yesterday.
“Wherever there’s room.” You say with a shrug, not really caring where the plates go because everything feels weird.
The apartment is pristine with its gorgeous hardwood flooring that Charles had refinished before you moved in, floor to ceiling windows that face out towards the water, and that new house smell that is totally unfamiliar and a little unnerving. You should be happy, shouldn’t you? Finally being free of the stifling apartment that you had shared with Lando should fill you with so much optimism and a sense of relief, shouldn’t it? But that’s not the case. Not even close. You’re scared and nervous and just the thought of deciding where those plates should go seems like the heaviest question you've ever been asked.
Simply picking out the plates yesterday with Jade had been an ordeal and you had needed to take several moments to yourself while shopping. You liked your old plates that you had bought with Lando the week you moved in with him but at the same time, the thought of taking those to your new apartment was more painful than leaving them behind.
Jade must notice your anxiety because as soon as she finishes putting the plates and bowls in whatever cabinet that suits her fancy, she comes over to sit next to you on the couch. When she wraps her arm around your shoulders you melt into her in a desperate attempt to stop a fresh flood of tears from falling. It seems as if all you’ve done since leaving the old apartment was cry and if you’re not crying, you’re barely fighting off an incoming panic attack and jumping with every ding of your phone.
“What’s going on, my love?” Her voice is gentle, like she’s talking to an injured animal that she doesn’t want to spook. It makes you feel pathetic, helpless, and angry for how much Lando has damaged you when he should have been loving you.
You’ve known Jade for years now and she’s always been one of your closest friends. It was Jade that had been the first of your friend group to pull you aside almost a year ago to ask you if you were truly happy with Lando. She had seen the light dim in your eyes as your relationship with him progressed and watching you lose your spark had scared her. When you had told her the morning after your art show last month that you had finally decided to leave Lando, it had been so hard for her to tamp down her excitement that you had finally worked up the courage to leave him.
“I should be happy, right?” You ask, voice cracking a bit with the heavy weight of what closing the door on the apartment for the very last time had done to you that morning. “I mean, I know I’ve been miserable for…” You scoff, “a really long time so shouldn’t I feel something other than heartbreakingly sad?”
Jade tips her head so it rests on your shoulder, a humming sound playing at the back of her throat. “You’ve been with him for a long time, of course you’re going to be heartbroken. Youu’re doing the right thing though, I promise you. He couldn’t even stop playing that stupid video game long enough to support you last month!”
You nod, memory flickering back to the fight in the hallway in front of Max. You hadn’t heard much from him in the weeks since that night aside from a few texts here and there and you had expected that. He probably was mortified at how you had behaved, embarrassed for you that you had allowed yourself to be treated that way in front him.
You wouldn’t have blamed him if he thought you were a weak little girl who deserved the treatment Lando doled out to you. It was the only way you could rationalize his silence. Seeing how far you’d fallen, how much you’d changed, had obviously had an effect on Max and he had decided he’d seen enough. It didn’t surprise you and you didn’t blame him. Jade was one of your only remaining friends and losing yet another person you trusted and valued in your life was just another thing Lando had taken from you.
“I’m just so glad you finally are taking your power back, love. I know it feels all wrong right now but when you go from the chaos that you’ve been living in for so long, I’m sure the calm of this apartment feels wrong. You’ll get used to it. It might take some time but you’ll get used to it.”
Your head swivels around to look your best friend and you search her face for any sign of her lying to you. You desperately want to believe she’s right, that you’re making the right choice. You know you are, deep down in your soul, but you’ve been with Lando for so long and have spent so many nights listening to him rant and rave about how he’s the only one who could ever deal with your dramatics that you wonder if Jade is wrong and Lando is the one who’s been right all along. You don’t voice the doubts though, knowing that those kinds of things are something that you should probably keep to yourself. So instead of voicing all of the fears that are bouncing around in your chest, making it feel heavy and tight with the pressure of doing something that absolutely terrifies you, you just nod and lean further into Jade’s shoulder.
“I know.” You whisper, staring out over the open living room that is littered with small boxes and suitcases.
With the help of your brothers and Jade, you had started moving your things out slowly while Lando had been otherwise distracted. Just a small box of clothes and trinkets here and there, over the last month while Charles had the apartment renovated and cleaned. When it was finally ready last week, you had begun looking for furniture and making final plans.
The timing had worked out perfectly, with the apartment finally being finished perfectly aligning with a weeklong trip Lando had planned to go to Woking to spend time in the sim at the MTC. He rarely bothered you during these working trips, hell he barely bothered you during any of this trips, but his work trips were different, so you knew you’d have a solid week to get everything that mattered to you out of the apartment before he would be any wiser.
“He’s going to be so mad when he comes home and my things are gone.” You murmur, staring down at your phone which hadn’t received so much as a text message from him in almost 48 hours.
You hadn’t bothered telling Lando you were leaving, that you were done with him. You shied away form confrontation on even the best of days so telling the man that you’d spent the last three years building a life together that you were leaving him was terrifying. When you had started moving small boxes out while Lando was still in town, you had half expected him to notice but that had never been a problem. He hadn’t even noticed you leaving on several occasions with boxes of your books or suitcases of clothes.
A larger part of you had another reason for not telling him, though. You knew that if you told him before you were fully moved out he’d try to get you to stay. He’d try to convince you that things would get better, that this time would be different. All the things that he’s said before when you spent the night crying over his neglect. And you knew you’d fall for it. You knew you’d go running back to him if you didn’t get out before he found out. Lando was persistent and an expert manipulator, you knew that and you still fell for it over and over again so this time you were trying to give yourself the chance to put yourself first and not fall back into his trap.
“He’s going to learn his lesson when he comes home and finds that you’re finally moving on.” Jade says, tone firm but still gentle. She knows what it’s like to be in a relationship like you have with Lando and when you had called her that morning last month to tell her you were finally leaving him, she had decided she was going to make sure she’d do everything in her power to keep you from going back to him. Getting you unpacked and settled in your new apartment was a huge step forward, one Jade hadn’t been sure you would end up following through with.
You nod, hoping she’s right but you have a feeling deep in your gut that when Lando gets back into town tomorrow morning he’s not going to see it that way. He’s going to be angry and he’s going to try to get you to come back home to him.
Looking around your new apartment though, you feel something settle in your bones that you haven’t felt in a very long time. It’s a feeling of attachment to this place. Like if you’re careful and thoughtful, this little apartment tucked away in one of the most exclusive buildings in Monaco could be the best opportunity you have for getting your life back on track. You could heal here, you can feel that in the way the sunlight spills through the windows in the living room, in the way your anxiety allows you to breathe when you stand in the kitchen surrounded by things that you bought yourself, and in in the way you feel when you settle yourself on your brand new bed that will have never shared an intimate moment between you and Lando. Those memories have all been left behind and this new apartment seems like the perfect place for a new beginning.
As Jade comforts you on your couch, your brother is across town arriving at the Monaco Sports Club where he has a game of padel scheduled with Max that afternoon. He had offered to cancel on him this morning when you spoke to him on the phone, saying that your first full day in the apartment was more important than any padel game, but you had insisted that he keep his game. You had wanted a bit of space to breathe from your brothers, who you knew meant very well and you were very grateful for but sometimes, the three men got to be a little suffocating. So, against his better judgement, Charles had skipped coming over that afternoon in favor of hanging out with Max.
Max hasn’t stopped thinking about that night last month when he witnessed Lando being needlessly cruel to you. He had every intention of calling Charles that night, had every intention of telling him how the British driver was actually treating you but something had stopped him. He had needed a little more time to process everything that he saw. Max knew that Lando could be an asshole but he never could have guessed that he would have treated you the way he did that night he brought you back to the apartment. It had shaken him and it had taken him a bit to figure out exactly how to approach it with Charles because he knew if Charles really knew how Lando had been treating you, Lando might not make it to the next race alive. Because while everyone knew the relationship was toxic and Lando wasn’t a good boyfriend, no one really realized just how bad it had gotten until Max saw behind the curtain that night of the art show.
When Max had invited Charles to play padel today, he had finally decided to tell him what had gone down that night. It had taken so long because Max kept waffling between ‘this is none of my business’ and ‘she’s everything’ but when he spotted Charles walking through the padel courts towards him, Max was surprised at how happy Charles looked.
“You look happy.” Max observes before giving his friend a hug.
“Oh, it is a very good day, mon ami.” Charles is practically glowing as he smiles over at his long time friend.
Max lifts a brow, it’s been a while since he’s seen Charles look this optimistic and he wonders if it has something to do with you.
As if Charles reads his mind, he continues, “We finally got the apartment finished and as of this morning, she’s fully left that piece of garbage.” A smug smile plays at the corner of the Ferrari driver’s mouth.
The relief that washes over Max is surprising. He hadn’t realized how truly worried he was for your well being until that moment. The guilt that sets in though has his chest aching. How could he have gone so long without saying something to someone about what he had seen that night? Max carefully weighs his decision that he had been so set on just moments before. If you’ve already left Lando and are settling into your apartment, does Charles really need to know what happened that night? It would only cause more drama and Max knew that more drama and anxiety was the last thing you needed.
In a split second decision that he knows could come back to haunt him, Max decides to keep quiet for now.
“That is the best thing I’ve heard all day.” With a genuine grin, Max bounces the padel ball against the floor.
Charles beams back at him and Max can almost see the stress that his friend has been carrying around recently melting away from his features. He had known that your brother was worried about you, had known your entire circle, or what was left of it, was worried but now that this was really happening, Max could practically feel the relief rolling off of Charles in waves.
“You’re telling me.” Charles mutters before walking to the other side of the court to get the game started.
Max hadn’t meant to end up in your old neighborhood, truly he hadn’t. He had been on a run the morning after playing padel for a few hours with Charles when he passed the bakery that was a few blocks from your old apartment. He hadn’t meant to come this far but the pressures of the season were starting to get to him as they usually did around this time of year and he had needed extra time to clear his head. The fact that he couldn’t seem to get you off his mind either plagued him the entire run too. The way you had felt pressed against his side as he walked you home that night last month, the way your cheeks flamed with humiliation as Lando had laid into you in front of him when he walked you to your door, everything about you seemed to be invading his thoughts and it worried him.
It worried him because he couldn’t let you get under his skin like this. He knew it was a dangerous game he was playing, knowing what you’ve been through and allowing himself to wander down that road. He was just happy you were safe now and hopefully you would start to get that spark back that he knew you still had in you. Everything else would have to wait.
So when he passed the bakery you had pointed out as your favorite the night he had walked you home, he couldn’t help but follow his feet inside. The smells of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries washed over his senses as the bell above the wooden door jingled, announcing his arrival. He knew exactly what he was looking for before the woman behind the counter even asked and before he was able to second guess his decision, Max was walking out of the bakery moments later with half a dozen of what he knew were your favorite almond croissants.
A housewarming gift, he told himself. Because what other way should Max welcome his newest neighbor to the building where he had lived for the last two years? He knew these were your favorites and if he had to guess, wandering back into your old neighborhood just for some carbs was probably at the bottom of your ‘to do’ list right now, even if they were heavenly pieces of baked bread and sweet almond filling.
While Max made his way back across town, laden down with a large pink bakery box, you were just getting out of bed and starting your day. Anxiety, a feeling that seemed to be your constant companion lately, sits heavy on your shoulders as you move around the new apartment. The quiet hush that blankets the small space is different than the stifling silence you're used to in your apartment with Lando. It was unnerving to say the least but if you allowed yourself to pause for even just a moment, you could almost feel your soul breathing a sigh of relief.
That wash of contentment is short lived though when a knock at your front door sends your heart rate spiking through the roof. You know that Lando was going to be home today but didn't know what time. It didn’t even cross your mind that there was no way it was him outside your door because he simply didn’t know where you had moved to but just the thought of someone who you weren’t expecting waiting for you and the possibility that it could be your now ex-boyfriend had you spiraling.
Reaching for your phone, you pull up the security system app that Charles had insisted you get installed, despite the fact that this was a very well secured building with its own doorman downstairs 24/7. The person standing outside your door has confusion knitting your brow together.
Pancake ingredients forgotten, you pad towards the door shuffling through various emotions: relief that it isn’t Lando waiting for you on the other side, apprehension about seeing the person that was patiently waiting in the hallway for you, and a bit of relief that you hadn’t lost this person like you thought you might have.
“Max, what a pleasant surprise.” You murmur when you swing the door open.
In front of you, the Dutch driver is dressed for a workout in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, his blond hair covered in a backwards baseball cap. You’re surprised at the shimmer of pleasure that works its way up your spine when he smiles at you but quickly squash the feeling, remembering the pity on his face as Lando had yelled at you that night he walked you home.
“I was on a run this morning and remembered you saying this bakery was your favorite. I thought I’d bring you some almond croissants as a sort of ‘welcome to the building’ present.”
Warmth spreads through your belly at the gesture and you hold the door open to welcome Max into the apartment. “Welcome to the building?” You ask, confused.
Max grins back at you, rubbing at the back of his neck as he follows you to the kitchen. “I live up in the penthouse. I moved in about two years ago.”
Surprise flickers across your face. When you started dating Lando, your friendship with Max had grown distant so it shouldn’t shock you that you didn’t even know where your friend lived. “Oh, I didn’t realize.” You whisper, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach.
Max watches you bustle around the kitchen, decidedly avoiding eye contact with him. For a few moments he just observes you, trying to decide if he should leave or push. Charles had mentioned yesterday that you were nervous about living alone and Max wanted to make sure that you were okay. He knew he should probably leave you alone to continue to settle it, with it being only your second day in the apartment alone, but there was something keeping him rooted to the spot where he stood in the middle of the kitchen.
“Are the almond ones still your favorite?” He asks, shattering the silence that had settled over the room. He knows you’re easily spooked now and Max desperately wants you to be comfortable about him. Maybe if he distracts you from whatever storm is brewing in your head, you’ll open up a bit.
His patience is rewarded with the first unguarded smile he’s seen from you in a long time. “I can’t believe you remembered.” You laugh, reaching for one of the croissants in the open box.
“You used to put these things away like nobody’s business when we were younger.”
The blush that creeps across your cheeks has Max gripping the edge of the counter. The two of you fall into a comfortable conversation of safe topics, mostly about your new apartment and how Max’s cats are doing. You like this, the way you feel around him but you can almost feel your body bracing for the other shoe to fall. You keep waiting to have something stupid slip out of your mouth, causing Max to berate or make fun of you.
Much to your surprise it never happens though and you spend the next hour talking through memories of when Charles and Max were fighting it out on the karting tracks when you were younger. Max remembered you well from those days, how you would beg to tag along with him and Charles and the older boys.
The sun sits high in the sky when your phone start buzzing loudly on the counter. At first you ignore it, too lost in the conversation you and Max are having, the way he is so attentive to everything you have to say and how he asks you questions like he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. You don’t want the attention he’s giving you to end but when your phone starts buzzing for the fifth time in a row, you get up off the couch to retrieve it. It was probably just Charles checking on you, you hand’t heard from him all day after all.
Your heart sinks and your stomach churns when you see the caller ID though. “Fuck.” The whisper that tumbles off of your lips is broken and harsh, causing Max’s head to snap towards where you’re leaning over the counter, forearms braced on either side of your phone.
“Everything okay?” Max gets up off the couch to join you in the kitchen, concerned over the way you’ve suddenly gone white as a sheet as you stare down at your phone like it’s about to reach up and strangle you right there in the middle of the room.
In the couple of hours that you had spent catching up with Max, you had completely forgot that Lando was due to get home soon. “I guess Lando has discovered I’m gone.” The way your voice shakes has Max’s heart squeezing.
“He doesn’t know you moved out?”
“Well he does now.” You quip, nervous chuckle falling from your lips. The text messages came in first, it looked like. Nearly a dozen of them and as you scroll through the messages, your face heats. Of course this is going to happen with Max here. Why is he always a witness to your humiliation?
Where are you? Why is the closet half empty, where are all your clothes? Baby, why is your treadmill gone? And your Peloton? Where the FUCK are you??? ANSWER ME NOW WHERE ARE YOU??? DID YOU LEAVE ME THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY YOU’RE DOING THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE NOW COWARD
Shortly after the messages stop, the calls start. You stare down at the phone as Max watches as call after call comes through.
“You don’t have to answer him.” Max murmurs, coming to stand right next to you. You have to resist the urge to lean into his warmth, to collapse against the quiet strength that rolls off of him in waves.
“It’s only going to get worse if I don’t.”
“Does he know where you are?”
You shake your head, tears threatening to spill over. Why was this all happening right now? You knew you were safe, that he had no idea where you had moved to but just the thought of being in the same city as him when he was this angry is enough to have the panic threatening to strangle the breath straight out of your lungs.
“Then you’re safe. He wouldn’t ever do anything to put his career in danger, Dovie.”
You have to laugh at the statement because it’s so true. Lando would never do anything to put his career on the line. He’d do whatever it took to keep you in line under his thumb, no matter how mean he had to be to control you but when it came to his career? His first love? He’d never do anything to put his seat in question and you knew that. You had always come second to racing and what Max said was the total truth.
Max watches you shrink into yourself as the calls continue to come in, one after another, and he knows he has to do something. He glances at the time and instantly gets an idea. “I was supposed to go to dinner with Danny in an hour. What if you leave the phone here for the night and come to dinner with me?” He pauses, seeing the panic flicker across your face. “With us. Come to dinner with us.” He corrects quickly. “I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free too? It’s been a while since we’ve all had dinner together.”
Your eyes drop down to the phone, now quiet for the moment, and weigh your options. You know you’re not ready to talk to Lando but the fact that you’re ignoring him makes you feel like a coward. You’re going to have to speak to him sometime but maybe it was okay if you put if off for a few more days. Dinner out with Max, Daniel, and your brother sounds so appealing but you still hesitate.
“Come on, Dovie. You can’t spend the whole night starting at the phone. He’s going to keep calling and it’s not good for you to be alone right now.”
The pain that slices through your heart at the gentle coaxing Max’s tone takes on is almost unbearable. Why is he always the one to see you laid so bare, so vulnerable?
“How did I let this happen, Max?” Your voice breaks, soft and uncertain as you turn into Max’s waiting frame. Without hesitation, Max’s arms circle around you and he pulls you deeper into his chest. Something settles in him then, almost like he’s relieved you’ve allowed him in. The way you shake while he holds you has his chest aching and he’d really like to give the McLaren driver a piece of his fucking mind right about then, but he knows that’s going to have to wait for now. You’re much more important.
“You were in love, schatje and that’s okay. You trusted him and he broke that trust. It’s not a reflection of you, sweet girl, its a reflection of him. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
You sob quietly into his chest, soaking his t-shirt through with your tears as the dam finally breaks. Humiliation threatens to drag you under but you allow Max’s words to resonate through you. They soften the sharp edges of your heartache and regret, knowing that someone like Max, who you respect and have known for nearly your entire life, doesn’t think this entire thing is your fault. You sink into his warmth, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, allowing his steady breath to ground you.
Max just stands there, a quiet pillar of strength that he can feel you desperately need right now. Hr murmurs quiet reassurances to you as you cry against him, slowly rocking you back and forth. “Come on,” Max coos, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Go take a shower and then lets go to dinner. I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free. You haven’t seen Danny in ages, right? It’ll be good to get out.”
Dragging in a deep breath, you hold the air in your lungs until they pinch. “Okay.”
With one last look at your phone, you turn away and walk down the hallway, leaving Max starting at your phone which has finally gone quiet. For several moments, Max just stands at the counter in the kitchen, unable to move. Relief floods his veins when he hears the shower start though and he knows that you’re finally making a small step towards getting out from under Lando’s control.
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Just so everyone knows: it is illegal to force someone to recite the pledge in any way, and it has been illegal for 82 years.
In West Virginia vs. Barnett (1943), the Stone Court ruled in a 6-3 majority decision that such a requirement violates a student’s freedom of religion (the suit was brought by Jehovah’s Witnesses, who are not allowed to pledge to any symbols) and, primarily, their freedom of speech.
Under this ruling, you have the right to refuse to recite the pledge under any circumstances. Forms of protest during the pledge (kneeling, raising a fist) are also protected, so long as you do not prevent any other students from reciting it.
If your school tries to force you into the pledge, tell them “I am exercising my rights to freedom of speech, religion, and expression, as guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America. In attempting to force me to recite the pledge, you are in violation of the Free Exercise, Free Speech, and Equal Protection clauses of those amendments, as determined in the landmark Supreme Court case West Virginia vs. Barnett (1943)”.
A lot of words to say “you can’t do that, that’s illegal”, I know, but the more specific and legalistic you sound, the less likely they are to try and fight you on it.
They CANNOT make you do this fascist shit, but they will try to lie to you about that. Know your rights, and state them clearly and unequivocally.
I told my dad just now in the united states schools they make you stand up to do the pledge of allegiance each morning and each classroom has a flag and he was like "no way why do they do that" because they're indoctrinating the children here
I told him also about one time in hs there were these two white girls who never stood up and there was a teacher who was subbing for a couple mins for our original teacher that was late and she was really... pro American military and all that. I usually didn't stand but because of this teacher I stood since i was the only brown kid there, not putting my hand to my heart, but the other two white girls didn't stand at all. And this teacher came up and was like "at least stand up" to them and they were like "no i don't think we will...." and she SLAMMED the desk and stormed out and our original teacher who was super chill came and she was like hi what happened.
My dad when he heard this story was like "that's so weird" like yeah it was super weird.
#almost got in trouble in eighth grade for refusing to stand#thankfully I looked up my rights beforehand#sorry this is probably too much op but I’m very passionate about this kind of thing
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"You know how animals have displays to attract mates? Logan is no different. When hes in the mood, hell puff himself out to you, do things he thinks youll like. I mean, i suppose avg males do this too but logan gets repetitive over it until you notice. "
This is too cute 🥹 Could I maybe request a drabble based off this? (Sorry if you already got a message similar to this, my wifi is being weird and I can't tell if it actually sent lol)
A/N: Thank you for this ask!! Aren't drabbles supposed to be 100 words? IDK, but this is more of cute fanfic with 1400+ word count! I hope this is what you wanted!
I imagined a F!Reader but I didn't use any pronouns or describe readers body so it could be GN!
I pictured trilogy! Logan too bc I felt like he was the one most likely to act like this honestly LOL. I tried to use the 4 things you'd see when it comes to mating displays - Looks, Strength, Food, and Gifts. (I just kept picturing him like those birds from birds of paradise video)
Courtship Rituals
Warnings: Just Logan being needy ;), Suggestive ending ;) ;)
It’s been an extremely busy day.
Aside from the meetings, the classes, chores, and various other activities that had taken up the schedule, it left little time for you to be with Logan.
Which he was totally fine with by the way. He knew you were busy.
Still, he’d stop by your study. “You done yet bub?” he’d ask, as he put his palms on your desk, seemingly puffing out his chest, the muscles of his arms bulging out as if he were flexing them. It was hard for you to not get distracted by him, especially since he was wearing a white t-shirt that fit very tightly around his torso; You swore you could make out his pecs through them. He actually looked really good since you’ve seen him early this morning- still asleep in bed. His hair looked especially good today, and he trimmed his beard to look a little neater. Not to mention he had on those jeans that fit his ass snuggly - the ones that you can never stop staring at.
God he’s so hot
You couldn’t allow yourself to be distracted though- Charles absolutely needed you to finish some research by tonight, so you couldn’t stop.
“Sorry baby,” You said sympathetically, “It’s gonna be a bit. I’m busy today y’know?”
You felt so guilty the way he visibly deflated, you reached out to grab his hand. “Later, ok?” You kissed the space between his knuckles, and he forced a smile, before leaving you alone to do your work.
Later you were in your classroom, getting things set up and preparing for your next class as you write your lesson plan on the chalkboard, you happened to turn your head to the window- where Logan was conveniently outside your classroom window in the yard, working out with nothing but his sweatpants on and his shirt off. You could see the sweat glistening off his skin, once again- you felt an incredible urge to go be with him, but you couldn’t- since your next class is in 20 minutes.
You went to the window and watched him, where he spotted you eventually after he finished doing a set of pushups- you lost count at 50. He greeted you with a small wave of his hand, a smirk plastered on his face. You gave him a polite wave back, and blew a kiss to him. He waved for you to come out, but you shook your head- tapping your wrists and pointing to the classroom with your thumb. He shrugged, and nodded understandingly- but deflated once again.
During lunch, you stopped into the kitchen to grab something to eat, finding Logan in there already. He looked up at the sound of you entering, and smiled.
“Was just about to get you. Made you lunch.” He says, turning around and presenting the plate- one of your favorite lunches. Grilled cheese (Extra cheesy of course with 3 different types of cheeses) Homemade fries with sea salt, and a small cup of tomato soup. Your stomach growled loudly.
“Lo!” You smiled taking the plate, “That’s so sweet, thank you-” You reached down to take a bite of a fry, your eyes rolled back and groaned dramatically. “Oh that’s SO good.” You reached up to peck him on the lips, as he smiled proudly down at you. He figured, if his impressive muscles and body weren’t enough to sway you away from your work - then this would.
The way to anyone's heart - food.
“You done for the day? Maybe we could spend some time-”
“Professor!”
The sound of Rogues voice came into the room, distracting you and Logan. “Hi, sorry- you said you would help me out with my science project?” She asks you, you swallowed your fry and nodded.
“I did, just give me a moment-” You inform her, turning back to Logan who’s deadpan expression made you want to laugh. “Sorry sweetheart, later?” You ask, pecking his lips again with a loud smooch.
“Yeah, sure.” He nods, his very best to not show his disappointment, watching you walk away with Rogue- and the plate of food in your hands.
You were talking to Jean in the hall, complaining about all the work you had to do. Some of it your fault- stuff you had been procrastinating, but some of it just piled on suddenly. Not to mention it was your turn on the roster to cook everyone dinner, and you had tons of laundry to do- another thing you put off.
Logan came around the corner, his arm sliding across your waist as he kissed your cheek. “Hey sweetheart.” He says lowly to you in that deep timber voice that drives you crazy- and he knows it too. He gave a courteous nod to Jean.
“What you got there Logan?” Jean asks, noticing he was holding something behind his back. He pulled his arm from his back, revealing to you a bouquet of wildflowers. You gasped.
“Lo, these are beautiful!” You smiled taking them. Jean chuckled,
“I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.” She teased, turning and walking away, leaving you and Logan alone. He braced an elbow against the wall looking down at you as you admired and sniffed the wildflowers.
“Thought you’d like them.” He says. You beamed up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I was thinking…” His other hand went to your hip, as he straightened his back out- practically towering over you. “If you got some free time now we should-”
“Hey! You busy?” Scott interrupted, pointing at you, then noticing the flowers, and Logans demeanor over you. Not to mention the absolute scowl Logan was giving him. “Uh, nevermind-”
You laughed, playfully hitting Logans arm. “What do you need Scott?”
Logan let out an exasperated sigh. He loved you, but boy do you always jump at the chance to help someone out… Guess that’s why he loved you. You were always great at lending a hand. You, however, have been terrible at picking up signals. He dropped his arm from the wall, stepping back to give you space. Tuning Scotts annoying voice out and looking down at you with adoration. It wasn’t just the sex that he was wanting- he was just feeling needy for you today, but you were too busy and had a lot on your plate.
He took the bouquet from you, telling you he’ll put them in a vase while Scott stole you away from him. Rejected twice, and stolen away from him twice. It did not boost his ego.
Finally, the evening came, and you were in bed, relaxing with a book. You had changed out of your clothes and into Logan's shirt, while Logan was in the shower, the steam and scent of soap wafting through the bathroom door of your shared bedroom. You heard the tap turn off, and you closed your book, setting it on your bedside table- next to the vase of flowers he got you- as you waited for him.
He came out, towel wrapped low on his hips, droplets of water dripping down his hairy chest and torso, and he looked surprised to see you in bed. “Oh, hey.” He greets. “Didn’t know you when you’d be back.” He mutters under his breath.
“Came in just as you got in the shower.” You smiled, tilting your head and crossing your arms, noticing his slight attitude. He nodded, turning to pull out some clothes. “Logan.” You called out, and he turned his head. You brought your hand up and beckoned him with your finger.
His grumpy face disappeared and he smiled, turning back to you and walking to the bed, dropping the towel to the floor as he kneeled onto the bed and climbed between your legs, his arms wrapping around your waist and upper back.
You brought your hands up into his hair, intertwining your fingers through the wet locks and you giggled. “You were missing me today weren’t you?” You smiled. His expression went soft, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips upturned to a small smile.
“Yeah. I was.” He says softly.
“You were like a peacock. You were totally strutting your stuff around me.” You teased. He rolled his eyes.
“Didn’t work clearly.” He mutters.
“So you admit it!” You laughed. “Cause since when did you work out outside my classroom window?”
A deep blush came across his face as he became embarrassed, looking away, before looking up at you with big pleading eyes. You hummed, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss that he quickly deepened, pressing himself deeper against your body.
Parting with a gasp, you ran your thumb across his cheek. “For the record, I missed you too.”
#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fic#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#vans daydreams#logan howlett fluff#im so nervous to post this cause i don't know if this was what nonny wanted!#but i do think the fic by itself is cute though
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black dahlia ! <3
denial - luigi mangione
♡ flower prompt: black dahlia - lie - meaning: symbolic of betrayal and sadness ♡ w.c.: 2.4k ♡ a/n: wrote this sick af. angsty. hope you guys enjoy!
♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested
It began with a fleeting look. Luigi never meant to linger, to observe, to hold his glance for just a second too long; but you had a way of drawing people to you, like moths to flame.
Luigi convinces himself that his attraction to you is harmless, that there’s no real damage in observing the details that make you who you are. He tells himself it’s not a crime to notice the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re bored or how the corners of your eyes crinkle into crow’s feet when you laugh. Those things were small, he reasoned–details anyone could notice, nothing out of the ordinary. He tells himself he’s just being attentive, but the more he notices you, the harder it is to pull away.
There’s safety in silence, in pretending he doesn’t see what’s so plainly in front of him. Luigi has always been measured with his words, careful not to betray anything more than what’s expected of him. He’s an expert in deflecting, in shifting the conversation to avoid focusing on himself for too long. He offers vague smiles and light-hearted quips that leave questions at bay to his friends–to you. When you ask him about his day, he chooses his answers with precision, giving you just enough to keep the conversation alive, but never enough to come within arm’s reach of him.
“How was work?” he recalls you once asked, leaning against the counter as he fiddled with a loose thread on his sleeve.
“Fine,” he replied quickly. “Busy, but you know, the usual.”
You tilted your head, clearly unconvinced. “You say that every time. Is it really always the same?”
His lips twitched into a small smile. “Pretty much. Routine keeps the place running, I guess. Not too much room for excitement.”
You chuckled softly, letting the conversation drop, but he noticed the way your eyes lingered on him. How your smile had faltered at the edges, like you were waiting for him to say something else. Luigi noticed, and he felt the weight of it–your expectation hanging in the air, but said nothing. Instead, he shifted slightly, breaking eye contact like the moment didn’t matter; as though the silence between you didn’t carry all the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. Just like that, the moment slipped away, like it had never existed at all.
Some moments, though, aren’t so easily brushed off.
It’s a Thursday evening when you ask Luigi a question he isn’t ready to face. The sun has already set, and the two of you sit across from each other. The faint sound of cars and incoherent conversation passes outside. You’re relaxed, leaning back slightly, but your expression is steady when you speak.
“Luigi?” you call.
“Yeah?” he replies, looking up from his phone, eyebrows lifting slightly.
There’s a pause as you fidget with the hem of your sleeve, gathering your thoughts. You lean forward, gaze meeting his. “Do you ever think about us?”
For a moment, Luigi stares at you, his brow furrowing as though he doesn’t quite understand the question. “What do you mean?” he asks, voice light, nearly playful, as if you’ve just told him a joke he doesn’t fully get.
You don’t waver. “You know what I mean, Luigi.”
He blinks, tilting his head as if he’s searching your face for a clue. “Are you asking if I’ve ever thought about us like…more than friends?” He keeps his tone casual to distract himself from the weight of the question.
“Yes,” you answer, plainly.
Before he can help it, he lets out a short, breathy laugh–the kind that sounds more like discomfort than humor. “What?” he says, brows knitting together as he leans back. “You mean, like us? Together?”
You nod, expression calm but insistent, and Luigi shifts in his seat. “I mean,” he stares, trailing off as he scratches his head, forcing out another quiet chuckle. “I don’t know, I haven’t really…thought about it.”
He’s lying. He knows it, even as the words leave his mouth. He keeps going, keeps up the casual façade because he can’t tell if admitting the truth would make things better or worse. “We’re just good the way we are, right?” he adds, his voice a little too light. He really hopes you’ll just agree and let the conversation die, just as you have so many other times before. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, watching him with an expression that makes it clear you’re not buying into his act.
“You’ve really never thought about it?” you press, your tone soft.
Luigi’s heart gives a sharp twist, but he keeps his face neutral, or at least he tries to. “Not really,” he says, forcing another shrug. His smile feels thin, stretched, like it might just snap under the heaviness of his words. “I just… I guess it’s never crossed my mind, you know?”
Lie. Lie, lie, lie. It’s a flimsy excuse, and he can see the way your face changes–how your lips press together, the way your eyes narrow, and how your nose scrunches in disbelief. He’s convinced you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but you only nod, sitting back a little.
“Right,” you say simply, but your voice holds an emotion he can’t name.
Luigi isn’t ready to carry the weight of the silence that follows. He taps his fingers against his knee, movements precise and practiced, as if he’s trying to convince himself he’s unaffected. Every second that you hold his stare feels like another crack forming in the wall he’s spent so long building. He shifts again in his seat, glancing at the door, the table, anywhere but you, because he knows if he looks at you for too long, the truth will slip out before he can prevent it.
Have you already figured it out? Have you noticed how his voice falters when he says your name or how he catches himself glancing your way even when there’s no reason to? Maybe you’ve been keeping a record of the times he’s brushed you off in conversation, every moment he’s chosen his words carefully to avoid giving himself away.
His knee bounces once, then twice, and he forces himself to stop, planting both feet firmly on the ground. He clears his throat, but it doesn’t help or ease the tension coiling in his stomach. He knows he should say something, anything, to break the silence, but every word that comes to mind disappears before he can voice it.
“You okay?” you ask quietly, and Luigi’s stomach twists at the way your words cut into him.
“Yeah,” he replies quickly. The sound of his own voice feelings foreign, like it doesn’t belong to him. He forces another laugh, but it doesn’t sound convincing. “I just wasn’t expecting this conversation, that’s all.”
Your eyes linger on him, and he swears he can feel them peeling back every layer he desperately tries to keep intact. Can you hear his heart pounding? See the way his hands are clenching to keep himself from fidgeting?
“I didn’t mean to throw you off,” you say softly, and your voice is so honest, Luigi finds it harder to keep up the charade.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak. The only thing he can think about now is how much he simply wants to tell you the truth, how much he wants to admit he thinks about you more often than he’d like to admit, how much it kills him to act like you don’t mean more to him than you should.
It’s for the best, he thinks as you finally look away. He says nothing. Your attention shifts to something else and Luigi tells himself that keeping his distance will protect you–the both of you–from the complications of what could be. The space between you feels wider than it ever has before, and Luigi knows it’s his fault. He’s created this distance, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear.
“Thanks for your honesty,” you add, though the words sound hollow.
He wants to say more, to explain himself, to pull you back from the space that seems to have opened between you at that moment; but Luigi only watches as you smile–polite, but not warm. You shift back slightly, to create distance from him, even as he sits with you in the same room.
After that, things change.
Luigi notices the way you pull back, the way your laughter becomes less frequent around him, the way you seem to hesitate before starting conversations you once dove into effortlessly. He hates it, hates himself for putting that distance between you. Still, he tells himself it’s what’s right, that keeping you at a distance spares you both from destruction. He can’t stop himself from having moments of weakness.
A few days later, it’s a late afternoon when the two of you end up on a park bench, although neither of you is entirely sure why you’re there. You had sent Luigi a text earlier in the day, asking if he wanted to get some fresh air. He hesitated, staring at the screen for longer than he should have before replying with a simple, “Sure. Meet you at the park.”
There wasn’t a plan to say anything heavy–it was supposed to just be a walk, casual, quiet conversation to fill the gap that had been growing between you. As the two of you meandered through the trails, the silence felt heavier than usual. Every lighthearted comment you attempted to make seemed to fall flat, and Luigi couldn’t help but give clipped, almost distracted responses.
When you spot a bench tucked beneath the shade of an old oak tree, you gesture to it. “Want to sit for a bit?”
Luigi glances at you, observing you, before nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”
So, here you sit, side by side, the quiet stretches on. Neither of you speak for a while, and it’s only when the silence finally becomes unbearable that Luigi breaks it. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he says, voice soft, but his words carry an unrecognizable edge.
“Have I?” you ask plainly, your foot nudging a stray leaf.
“Yeah. Feels like…you’ve been pulling away,” he nods, exhaling a breath.
You don’t respond, tracing the grooves of the bench’s armrest with your fingertips. Your lips press together before you finally speak. “Maybe I am,” you admit.
Luigi’s stomach turns. He forces himself to look at you, brows furrowing. “Why?” he asks, even though there’s a knot in his chest that tells him he already knows the answer.
“I’ve been so stuck, Luigi,” you say, looking at him. You hold his gaze longer than you have in weeks. There’s a look in your eye that he can’t place–one of hurt, maybe, or resignation. “I’ve been standing still in the same place for days, weeks…and you’ve already made up your mind.”
He opens his mouth slightly, as if he’s about to argue, to tell you that you’re wrong, that he hasn’t decided anything, but no sound comes out. The truth–messy, tangled, and heavy–lodges itself in his throat, impossible to force past the weight of the lie he’s been holding onto: he doesn’t have feelings for you. Instead, he looks at his hands, jaw clenching.
“You know, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” you continue after a beat, gently. “I’m not trying to…force anything, but it’s hard to keep pretending everything’s fine when it feels like you’re not being honest with me, Luigi–or with yourself.”
He knows he should give you an answer, something solid. A part of him wonders if this is the point of no return–if saying nothing will just make you drift further away from him. His mind churns with half-formed thoughts, excuses he doesn’t even believe, but all that slips out is a weak, “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realize it felt that way to you.”
Luigi hears your sigh. From the corner of his eye, you shift slightly, leaning away from him on the bench. As much as he’d like to reach for you, he stays in place, hands interlocked together in his lap.
“Um,” you begin and pause. You sigh again, leaning back against the bench. “I think I need a fresh start.” Your voice is tinged with sadness, and Luigi suddenly feels uneasy for a reason he can’t explain. “Somewhere new. Different.”
Luigi feels his chest tighten, stomach falling at your words. He looks at you then, really looks at you, and there’s a finality in your face that he isn’t ready to confront. He manages a small nod, voice strained as he mutters, “That makes sense.”
You gaze at him, softly and with resolute, and then glance down at your shoes. “My mom has been asking me to come stay with her for a while,” you confess, sounding uncertain. “She thinks a change of scenery might be good for me. She’s in California now, close to the coast, actually. She’s been saying I could take some time to figure things out, you know? Clear my head and whatnot.”
Luigi says nothing. He should say something–ask you not to go, tell you that you don’t need to figure things out on your own, he’s here for you–but he only nods again, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “That sounds nice,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” you say, smiling faintly. It doesn’t reach your eyes. “I think it might be what I need. It’s not forever, just a little while, but it feels like the right thing to do.”
His heart sinks further at his words, and he watches as your gaze drifts, your mind clearly elsewhere. Maybe you’re daydreaming about the possibilities of what a fresh start could mean for you. Luigi wants to tell you that he’s sorry, to apologize for the reason you’re feeling lost, but he doesn’t know how.
Finally, you stand, movements slow as if you’re preparing to leave something behind. Leave him behind. “Take care, Luigi,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. Then, without another word, you turn and walk away, footsteps light.
Luigi stays on the bench, rooted to his seat, hands clasped tightly in his lap as he watches you disappear down the path. As the sun dips lower and the world around him continues to move, Luigi remains frozen on the bench, clinging to the fragile hope that this isn’t the end—holding on to denial, even though deep down, he knows you’re already gone.
#unedited#luigi mangione#luigi mangione x reader#luigi mangione fanfic#luigi mangione fanfiction#angst#real person fiction#luigi mangione imagine#luigi mangione x y/n#luigi mangione x yn#fanfiction#free luigi#luigi mangione fluff#fluff#flower prompt#luigi mangione art#luigi mangione angst#mrsmangiwrks#yearning#pining#uhc shooter#uhc ceo
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number one girl
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: the story of ynmax is a very, very heated topic riddled with holes and chock full of conspiracies: a couple and split to rival brocedes. it's mostly an a f1 thing, though, until you release an album and the internet tries to deduce what ruined a decades-long friendship.
a/n: angst warning. bear with me, you're in for a long ride. we go from twitter to insta to reddit to sdfsd. this was SO FUN!
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liked by stevienicks, georgerussell63 and 3,104,827 others
yourinstagram: "number one girl" out now.
view all 411,295 comments
user1: mother??? music???
user2: our multitalented baby <3
stevienicks: so proud of you ❤️
yourinstagram: so thankful for you 🥺 your support is immeasurable in worth
user3: max verstappen did you-
user4: george listening to this so he can justify bullying max next season
user5: please 💀 i choked on my water reading that
user6: CHARLES IN THE CREDITS FOR PIANO?? how many side quests has this girl roped people into
user7: they're still good friends lol just cause she and max stopped speaking doesn't mean she's not close w the rest of the grid user8: @/user7 right! she and alex have also posted each other quite a bit after the rhode collab
user9: is no one talking about the lyrics 😃 gut wrenching, yes, but the way it all lines up w max??
user10: no babe dw we're all talking about the lyrics user11: my roman empire...
user12: who's this max guy and what does he have to do with my queen y/n
user13: @/user12 he's a formula one driver, they ued to be best friends user12: @/user13 like nascar? omg what i only knew that she debuted in shadow n bone but WHAT IS THIS
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A PAGE FROM Y/N's JOURNAL November 15, 2021
Max is a plane right now to see Kelly. I feel like I've been punched, three times over. The nausea is getting to me.
How could you? Just say all those things, like you always do. Do you mean any of them? When you say "I love you, more than anyone in this life." When you say "You're worth it, really. "When you say "forever." Does anyone ever really mean forever? Forever is part of the foreseeable future. You cannot capture what is beyond that.
You were my life. The words, every moment. An inescapable reminder.
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liked by charles_leclerc, brunomars and 2,819,305 others
yourinstagram: "toxic till the end (ft. lewis hamilton)" is up on youtube and all music platforms ♡
view all 309,418 comments
user1: what. the. fuck.
user2: is she dating lewis? what? y/n girl please stop being cryptic my head can't take all of this 😭
user3: if this is part of the press tour i must say i am now extremely invested in the ynmax drama and i didn't even know who max was until i saw a thread on number one girl...
lewishamilton: Best of luck with your future endeavors, Y/N 🫂 Will be by your side!
yourinstagram: you better be 🫰 user4: the friendship we didn't know we needed
user5: lewis with...pink hair...
user6: max emilian verstappen fumbled so hard
user7: imagine ghosting THE y/n l/n and then she drops this
user8: well, 4 years later but yeah user9: what even is a wdc...
user10: what does the heart mean y/n
user11: bro
user12: so i guess the harry styles dating rumors were all fake 😔 but omg lewis music!!
kellypiquet: Face and voice of an angel 😽
yourinstagram: me? please, pregnancy glow has been treating you good 💕 user13: at least they don't have any hard feelings...
user14: bruno in the likes is the most random thing ever
user15: acting career, check. singing career, check. formula one side quests??? multple checks
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liked by kellypiquet and 4,103,697 others
lewishamilton: Behind the scenes of Miss Y/N's "toxic till the end" music video
tagged: yourinstagram
yourinstagram: looking good there, lew
lewishamilton: Very kind of you to say user1: trust me we are witnessing the start of a great romance
user2: i don't want to delulu too hard but PLEASE tell me y/n's moved on with lewis it would be the ultimate baddie move
user3: imagine...you won abu dhabi but you lost the love of your life to the guy you beat 🤪 user4: we're all insane but i'm just going to keep dreaming
charles_leclerc: Why am I not in your dump?
yourinstagram: face card wasn't lethal enough user5: she's brutal 💀 user6: our charles's facecard could start wars idk what she's on
user7: daddy please give me ONE chance
user8: give me some of that maranello?? he looks so good oml
user9: focusing on music videos and not racing...no wonder he's washed
user10: @/user9 can you stfu and touch grass user11: @/user9 literally no one asked
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AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX November 2021
Dear Hey, Y/N.
I realized you blocked me. It hurts. I don't know what to say or what to believe anymore. I miss us. Overstepping was the wrong choice, if you must, but going back is not impossible.
We've been friends for so long. Why can't you won't you try?
I miss you.
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r/Fauxmoi · 1 day ago hamilton7xc
Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N's infamous split explained?
feralonsos: So she's been pretending he led her on when she lead him on
parking23: I don't know anymore. I know nothing. Don't even talk to me.
forzamcqueen: I want to say it's not about YNMax but 21 (as in 21, when they split?) and Y/N has been coming out with music recently. When you look at the "number one girl" lyrics from Boy's perspective it lines up with this submission. That Max wanted reassurance from Y/N and she gave it to him, but she couldn't give him everything he needed.
↳ roses_berg: @/forzamcqueen I don't know...it seems kind of unlikely. Y/N has a lyric about "chasing the prize" or something like that. What prize would she be chasing? On the other hand, you have Max who has clearly said racing is his passion and he loves winning.
↳ forzamcqueen: @/roses_berg I see where you're coming from but there are a few interpretations. Toxic Till the End suggests she thought his attachment to her was maybe unhealthy, and he kept trying to find ways to keep her by his side. Y/N has mentioned in past interviews (promo for her role in Shadow and Bone, when she was starting to do acting) that she's had bad experience with past relationships and is hesitant on starting a new one.
↳ januaryblues11: @/forzamcqueen Sorry, what interview? Could you link it?
↳ forzamcqueen: @/januaryblues11 No worries, I put it down below. The part I'm referring to is around 5:41.
↳ WolffHornerFan: @/forzamcqueen Okay, okay. I need a timeline then. She must've started filming Shadow and Bone in Oct 2019, then wrapped 4 months later in Feb 2020. This might be the "prize" she's chasing? Her own career. Before it was announced that she was in the series most news referred to her as "close friend" or "best friend" of Max Verstappen. Now a lot of people know her for S&B or Top Gun Maverick, etc.
↳ CautiousOwl: Might've not wanted her relationship to overshadow her career. It's understandable, if she wanted to be taken seriously instead of a "nepo friend."
↳ 4norrisop: She's amazing in Shadow and Bone! Definitely recommend checking that out, but I don't understand why she ghosted him.
↳ ynluv07: @/4norrisop he was dating kelly at the time. she might've thought it was a bad idea after it happened (i'm referring to the kiss, which i assume happened because she explicitly refers to it a few times in "number one girl") and distanced herself. maybe she told him it wasn't okay?
↳ ICEMAN_bwoah: Brain hurts.
↳ brooksies: Well if she did give up her happiness because she thought Kelly deserved better, that's great. No wonder they're still on good terms.
↳ DauntingParrot91: @/brooksies Yeah, sure...
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX January 2022
Y/N, I'm sorry I asked for too much; I'm sorry I pushed you. I'll take my bags and go quietly, this time. Maybe you'll open the door again someday. I love you too, my best friend always.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by lewishamilton, taylorswift and 4,103,269 others
yourinstagram: Burnout.
comments on this post have been limited
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
AN UNSENT LETTER FROM Y/N February 2022
Wish you'd take a little longer to pack up your bags. You're moving too fast. Make me want to hate you more than I hate myself, so I don't have to miss you. Make a mistake, please. So I have someone to blame.
Please, won't you stay a little longer? I would call you babe, just to make you smile. I wouldn't mean it that way, but I still love you. You're my best friend. Why wasn't that enough?
I'll be okay, sometime. You say it's written all over my face, and I wonder, what is? I'm fragile, now. I'm speechless, now. Don't leave me in pieces. I'm sorry, let me fix it. It won't be good for us, but oh-how I want to.
I'm already having trouble breathing. Please, stay a little longer. I can't stand these four walls without you inside them.
Come back, be here.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by kellypiquet and 1,249,805 others
maxverstappen: She stayed a little longer 🖤
tagged: kellypiquet
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user1: GUYS HE DEF HEARD THE SONG
user2: do we think kelly asked him to post it
user3: tbf given on how sweet her n yns interactions are i wouldn't be surprised if she listened to burnout
user4: kelly. you are the strongest woman i know
user5: so i can convince you the minute i kiss you speak a little softer so i don't have to answer and make it okay before you can say
user6: i just know he had a little breakdown inside after he heard the album
user7: max rn: CHARLES HOW COULD YOU PLAY PIANO FOR HER
user8: max: alexa play that should be me user9: ho-olding your handdd
user10: who are we blaming today
user11: at least max is finally someone's number one girl
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX Summer 2024
Sometimes I look to the television and you're on, flying a plane or wielding magic, whatever it is you do these days. I knew you could act. I knew you'd make it far. I hear you were nominated for a Golden Globe, too.
I was mad for a long time. I was upset you kicked me out of your life so abruptly.
Kelly's expecting. I think she will be as good a mother to our child as she is to little P. A family is what I have always wanted, you know. It was not what you wanted.
I am sorry. I have said that many times, but one day I will need to say it to your face. I am truly, irrevocably sorry for all the hurt I caused you, in the name of love.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
r/PopCultureChat · 1 day ago forzamcqueen
"Burnout" by Y/N L/N
How do we feel about the release of the full album? Moreover, how do we think it fits into the YNMax narrative? I, for one, have been listening non-stop trying to figure out the story.
lec_clerc16: I think it's funny how many people have gotten into F1 because of her music. Lol.
↳ NaturalOtter5: Well Lewis & Charles were on it so I would say the F1 community is pretty interested in the tea aswell.
↳ lec_clerc16: @/NaturalOtter5 Right, but YNMax is old drama. Sure, someone's posting in r/F1 every other week about an old photo or new quote. It's still been around for a while. This is fresh meat 😋
jennyowens1342: such a player...LOL who is gameboy about atp
↳ sassybanana: TBF Y/N's dating life has been a lot more quiet than Max's. There have been rumors but she hasn't hard launched anything. Maybe the one public "relationship" was enough for her.
museapollo: the more i listen the more convinced i am that y/n did not want the relationship as max did and decided it was best for them to stop being friends. the whole album is about a codependent relationship and the two people can't deal with leaving but they know it's better for both.
↳ janitorsclosetmonster: yess!! that's what i've been saying. we can't blame y/n for everything, it must've been confusing for her as well. having to navigate everything. idt she'd dated anyone at that point. max was her only close friend.
↳ EggplantParmesan713: But did max cheat...that's the real question. When did THE kiss happen? And who started it?
↳ museapollo: @/EggplantParmesan713 idk. i can't figure if she actually loved him (romantically) bcs it's clear he did but her side is a bit more hazy. you have: 1. "i just WANT it to be you" - it's not actually him she loves but she desperately wants it to be him 2. "cause even when i said it was over / you heard baby can you pull me in closer" - she's telling him it won't work out but he's not listening. 3. "please, won't you stay, stay a little a little longer, babe?" - she pauses before babe, like it's her trying to convince him to stay. mb she thought it was best to distance herself/end the friendship for a bit but she still loves him a lot because they've been friends for so long
↳ forzamcqueen: @/museapollo The best explanation I have heard so far. You can't force someone to love you the way you do. At least they've matured and moved on.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
January 2025
Dear Max:
Congratulations. I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, as I have always guessed. 2024 was a great year for you. I watched all a few of your races; you've still got it.
I'm putting out an album soon. I thought you should know. I already had a talk with Kelly, she's listened to some snippets and she likes it a lot. Some of the writing is about you the things I never said.
It was wonderful being your best friend. We had a good run, better than most.
Missing you Wish you the best, Y/N L/N
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
February 2025
Dear Y/N:
Occasionally, I think of all that could have been.
But we had many years together, and I will always cherish those moments.
Kelly loves the album, she puts it on while she cooks or does her makeup. P sings along in the car. She says she wants to go out for a tea party with you sometime. I listen to it even when they're out of the voice, for a reminder of your voice. You've made quite a name for yourself. I'm sorry I couldn't be there by your side.
Thank you for writing it. There are some things that you have to hear once, just for yourself.
Love Always Yours, Max Verstappen
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
what did you think?? i might do a part 2 of yn & max talking for the first time in forever but i wanna know if you guys liked this one first LOL
#formula one#max verstappen x reader#formula one x reader#f1#f1 x you#max verstappen#f1 smau#smau#x reader#rose
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Child of a Seraphite
Cw: death, grief/guilt, TLOU universe, angst, Abby finds her way with parenthood! 3.k words, Longer read. Not fully proofread
What does it take to pull a woman out of a life fueled by vengeance? The answer: you, and a baby.
M.list
Present Day
The small room was coated in the soft, warm yellow glow of the worn window. That old jacket hung behind the wooden door. The only sounds were of gentle breathing and the faint rustle of sheets against clothed skin.
Little Lev slept peacefully, his tiny hand half clenched around the hem of Abby’s shirt. You lay propped on your elbow beside them, watching the scene unfold. It was precious, really. You, her, lev and the safety of this room. After everything, this felt like a dream. A small smile tugged at your lips as you took in Abby’s half-asleep face. Her head rested heavily on the pillow, her braid draped next to her. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease her.
“You know,” you whispered, careful not to wake lev, “he’s starting to look like you.”
Abby huffed out a sleepy laugh, her eyes still closed. “Oh yeah?” she whispered back. “You seeing a resemblance?”
“Twins. No doubt,” you replied, biting back a laugh. Knowing The three of you looked like you’d been plucked straight from a diversity ad. in the most endearing way possible, of course.
Abby chuckled under her breath, and draped an arm over her eyes. Eventually after some more sleepy snickers she shushed you. You both needed rest before tomorrow. Another day of this new normal you both found yourself tangled in.
Around One year ago
The WLF base was alive with its usual routine soldiers training, patrols heading out, and the familiar buzz of machinery echoing through the safety of the walls. You were in the middle of unloading supplies when some commotion started. You paid it no mind at first, you had your own task to do. Drama was the last thing you needed to be involved with.
When you heard it.
“Abby’s back!” a soldier shouted, running past you. The heavy steps growing faint as they disappeared from your line of sight.
Abby, You hadn’t seen her in god knows how long, not since she left to chase whispers of the Fireflies. The last time you saw her, you’d gotten into a huge fight. You two had this unspoken tension and then she suddenly announces that she’s leaving and has no idea when she’ll be back. It took Issac separating you two to end the discussion with no room for rebuttal. She was going, end of story. All you could do was hope for a safe return or just one at all.
You dropped the crate of supplies in your hands, heart pounding filling your ears as you turned to face the large gates. The thought of seeing her again, made you feel a mix of relieved and terrified.
she had been determined, revengeful, dead-set on her mission that she refused to explain too much of. And now?
There she was. Abby was here.
dirty and bloodied, trudging into the base with exhaustion in every footstep. Some familiar faces scrabbled over to help, looking like she was going to collapse face first onto grass below her tired feet. Those broad shoulders slumped, Your breath caught in the back of your throat as she stopped a few feet away. her eyes meeting yours for the first time in what seemed like forever.
You opened your mouth to say something, anything. You were glad she’s back, you were sorry for the fight, you were pissed that she left you with no hug or proper bye—you wanted to say a million things at once, to save time.
But all that was pushed to the side when you seen a tiny hand reach up out of the old jacket she was tightly clutching…swaddled?
Your voice was low, full of surprise as you stepped closer to her.
“Is that a…?”
Abby shifted on her sore feet, glancing down at the baby before looking back at you. “A baby” she said, almost breathless. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
And then it struck you—there was no one else with her. No backup, no team. Just Abby and the baby.
“Abby- Wh- …what the hell happened out there?” you asked, stepping closer, voice low so the growing crowd of onlookers couldn’t hear. Whispers already starting.
Abby glanced at the baby again, her jaw tightening. “It’s… it’s a long story.”
The ‘long story’
To say this journey’s outcome was the complete opposite of what Abby expected, is beyond an understatement.
Here she was, the same woman who can bench a little over two hundred pounds was captured. At the mercy of the cult the ‘wolves’ The WLF had been at war with. ‘Scars’ Seraphite’s. Hung suspended, her arms and wrists wrenched painfully behind her, the thick ropes cutting into the skin of her neck as she wiggled. Burning with each movement. Her breaths came in sharper gasps, blood trickling from the corner of the small cut on her lower abdomen. Her vision beginning to blur.
“Cut her down” Yara panted out, her back pressed against a large rock, wincing with every breath. Her other arm remained clenched tightly around an old, worn jacket, refusing to let it go even during chaos. The tussle was over now, Three of her ‘own’ now lay dead. Deserved, as it was them or who she was protecting.
“She’s one of them-“ The other scar, cross bow in hand protested.
“Just do it!” she commanded. “Demons are coming, hurry”
With a loud thud to the ground Abby ripped the noose off of her neck. Then quickly staggered to her feet, body on fire from being bound for so long. Small cut stinging on her lower stomach. However, before she could fully orient herself, the wounded young woman thrusted something into her arms. As she couldn’t with her now broken one. Holding it there firmly against her chest.
A baby.
Abby froze, staring down at the tiny, squirming bundle in disbelief. “What the hell—”
“It’s my brother,” Yara interrupted, her voice breaking as she turned to yank the axe of a dead body “We have to go. Now!”
The groups feet were moving faster than their minds, survival being the only thing on it.
But Unfortunately, for the wounded young woman, She’d have to make one last sacrificial effort to keep her brother alive.
Gunned down by wolves as a distraction for the safety of her brother, yara laid there. A sight Abby would never forget. But the one thing she would? The promise she made to now lifeless body. Her last words being…
“You Take him… take him to your people. Promise me, he lives.” Yara’s plea was barely above a whisper, eyes locked onto Abby’s.
And promise, she did.
The air was thick, mixed with the pit of devastation in Abby’s gut. The only thing keeping her moving was her feet. After Yara’s sacrifice, Abby alone with a crying baby that she couldn’t seem to soothe. had to now make her way back to Seattle. What the hell was happening. What the hell was she going to do with a baby. The baby of the cult who’d almost disemboweled her. The child of a scar.
With almost being bitten, annoying cries she couldn’t coo away, and the stench of a dirty make shift diaper Abby was beyond exhausted. This journey was seeming to be more than she could handle, But she had promised the woman who’d saved her life. It had been weeks but That lingering feeling of that rope around her neck sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine. Without yara and the other scar who’d gotten spilt up during the mess of escaping infected, she’d be hung.
Take him, protect him. She promised.
Revenge now taking a momentary backseat..but with that, bring the spawn of the enemy wasn’t going to blow over lightly. despite her reasoning and constant explanations tensions inside the walls rose. A faction within the WLF distrusts Abby for returning with a Seraphite child, now seeing her as a liability.
It was getting out of hand. Lips of other soldiers got looser than needed. However, you seemed to be a solace as she’d seek you out to rant about the growing conflict.
“I mean he’s a child for Christ sake!” “Leave him out to what, Die? Are they insane?!”
You could recite her words like a song at this point. Some days she wouldn’t even knock on your door, just opening it and leaning on it with her arms crossed tightly Across her chest. You would give her the green light to get it all out, and trust it poured out every time. The words were full of colorful language and most importantly hurt.
Those light arm pats and words of reassurance gave her more strength to stand her ground than she’d admit to you, not now anyway. Those looks that were held too long, her shoulder brushing against yours while sitting quite close, or the blush that crossed your face when she adjusted your hold on a weapon you were unfamiliar with. Occasional pillow talk of this farm you’d found, joking of how’d cute you’d look in overalls cleaning up the place. Came pouring back in with light flashes as two came back around each other more. Much more.
It started with you having a little more knowledge in this department, you found yourself doing the little things to help her out.
“Here, uh..try this” you said adjusting the child’s head in the crook of her arm to support his head.
The Light touches and small smiles became another silent reoccurrence. Along with taking lev for a few hours so she could rest. Falling into this oddly comforting position didn’t sway you away. She was asking you for help, she never did that before leaving. Everything was ‘I got it’ or ‘I’ll handle it myself’ but now things were miles different. Amongst this, typical Manny making a passing comment on how well you two coparented, made you both awkwardly laugh. Feeling the cracks from before begin to fill with this new experience.
Yes, You two still hadn’t spoken about where you stood before she left. You decided to choke it back, there was something much bigger now. Another life, innocent and blissfully aware of the cruel words being spat him and his saviors way.
Abby had a decision to make. And fast.
But how is she supposed to turn over this child who clearly was not better off. Yet, her loyalty being doubted was stinging just as equally.
Days blended together as the sky stormed along with Abby’s conflicting feelings.
A situation she’d never thought she’d find herself in, standing with her arm out over the child protectively. The heavy drumming of rain against the metal roof of the outpost and almost drowning out the muffled arguments behind the door. her jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
They wanted him gone.
“He’s a liability,” Isaac’s voice echoed in her ears. “We took you back, Abby. But that… that Seraphite child has no place here.” “If you wish to follow in Owen’s footsteps of betrayal you may do so, outside of these walls.”
They wanted her gone.
Her knuckles brushed her pants, fist clenched. Nails digging into her palm to control her temper.
Isaac’s words felt like they were carved deeper into her skin than any wound she’d gotten these past few months of travel. “You owe us, Abby. His presence is risking the people here, the people who took you in. You choose. Him or us.”
The ultimatum that felt like it had no right answer.
One night, Abby entered your room quietly. The soft click of the door woke you.
There she stood, teary eyed, cheeks stained and a look of defeat smacked on her face. Lev on her hip, had his small head rested on her chest, half awake. Belongings that were once in hand, now dropped next to her with a harsh thud.
before you could ask her what’s going on it came out with a choked sob, ramblings of the past few months and how it was all weighing on her.
You learned of her promise to yara, and you saw the hardened woman who was once full of stubbornness and hatred now a beaten down emotionally drained individual. Pleading for the universe to ease up on her. Tore between the walls that she once called home and failing the child she promised to keep safe, from a woman who now only a memory.
You’d stood frozen in place before embracing the broken woman who looked like her knees would buckle under her with the slightest gust of the wind.
When you pulled back looking at her and the small figure clinging onto her, that conversation washed over you, a lightbulb flickered on.
It was as nuts as it sounded but you asked her anyway.
Before she left the base
“…Like old McDonald?” Abby laughed, listening to you describe a farm you’d come across while traveling Wyoming before joining the base.
You asked her to imagine it. The grass, fresh air, and warm sun beaming down on her skin during the summer.
“Hey, I’m being serious! Give me a broom and hammer I’d make it sparkle. Swear” you joked, and continued to explain how’d you live on the land. Taking the skilled you’d learned to the new environment.
Abby felt a pang of warm air pass over her seeing you in hopes of finding a more peaceful and quiet life. She agreed, but debated with finding the comfort of routine at the base. Losing herself in the conversation. Loving how you seemed to have an answer for almost every rebuttal she threw out.
And now a year later, you asking her if she’d be willing to take this shot in the dark. Making it a reality.
With you. Now.
After a few more days of preparation, she placed one foot outside the gates of base. Looking over her shoulder to the familiar faces she’d once found comfort in only to met with cold gazes because of the small hand she promised to hold. To keep alive.
A few nights before
A heavy sigh echoed as Abby carefully folded small clothes into a not too heavy duffel bag. Uncertainty hung in the air. Was this really what she wanted?
Manny leaned against the doorframe, watching his friend prepare to make a decision that wouldn’t just shift her life but his too.
“You’re really doing this, huh, amiga?”
“I am” she said dryly.
After a few more beats of tense silence weighted between them, He stepped into the room, handing over a small stuffed animal from behind his back. A worn elephant plushie came into her vision, a farewell gift. What a sweetheart he was. Her shoulders eased and she let herself actually talk to him.
Manny softened, leaning down to zip up one of the bags. “Abs, I get it. Just… you better come back if this whole farm thing doesn’t work out. You’ll be missed here. Despite the bullshit, you will”
Abby paused, taking the plushie from his hand, gently packing it away. “Thanks, Manny. For everything.”
“No need to get mushy, not your style” he said with smile. “And , if you ever need a babysitter…you know where to find me.”
“Mhm… I’ll send a postcard, yeah?” She replied jokingly feeling a small weight be lifted.
“Yeah” he repeated and gave her a small ‘you got this’ back pat.
As her other foot stepped outside the gates, she pushed any uncertainty down. She was keeping her promise, for yara…
For herself,
For lev.
The first night settled in Wyoming
Lev, feeling restless had cry’s bouncing off the wooden walls of the semi empty room. Abby sprung awake, heavy breathing as it startled her. With a heavy groan, she made her way over to try and hush the child. After no avail, you felt a small shake on your leg. On the make shift bed that was surprisingly comfortable for the time being.
“Your turn” Abby said with a pout.
You shift in the blankets, taking a moment to take in the image of this hardened soldier, hair a mess, half asleep, holding a baby out to you.
The sight never failed to make your heart swell. A beautiful sliverlining in this world which showed no mercy. A hand slowly made it way to cover your mouth.
Abby tilted her head in confusion, then a small smile crept on the corner of her lips.
“Oh this is funny to you?”
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, she followed suit after a halfhearted eyeroll. Yeah, Moments like this were definitely the sweet after the sour. Moments like this, reminded her of the tough decision she’d made. Feet sore, eyes heavy, but a smile on her face.
And you’d be damned if you thought she wouldn’t choose it all over again.
————————————————-
Note: the idea of baby lev was too cute not to write! It doesn't follow the original story but idk I like this version! And yes I brought out the farm! Abby deserves the peaceful life too! Me writing a happy ending for once Any typos will be fixed LMAO
Thank you for reading!! 💐
#x reader#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby x fem!reader#fem reader#lgbtq#abby the last of us#abby x you#writing#the last of us#tlou fic#manny tlou#tlou fanfiction#lesbian#abby fluff#rhysoneshots#tlou#tlou fluff#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x black reader
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Hello! I hope this is the correct way to request..., can you write a lewis story for prompt 28? It can be something like, reader is a new wag and there is some online hate, and lewis comforts them. It's completely fine if you don't wanna do this story, Thank you!! 💞
DON'T LET THEM SAY THAT. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL | Lewis Hamilton
Lewis Hamilton x Actress!Reader
SUMMARY: Lewis and you decided to make your relationship public in Maranello before 2025 Formula 1 season starts. However, love from fans isn't there as you expected ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖
WORD COUNT: 2043
WARNINGS: Age gap (reader is on her early 20s and Lewis is 40), fans acting like crazy, hate towards Y/N
VEE'S NOTES: I received this prompt on the inbox today and I don't know how I wrote, corrected, translated and corrected once again it today. Also, first ever Ferrari!Lewis fic I'm so emotional right now. Not really happy with the result since like Y/N in this fic, I have many intrusive thoughts about my writing and I didn't have the best of the weekends, but hope you enjoy it anyways! Remember that I appreciate your comments, feedback, as well as reblogs, thank you so much! :)
© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
The whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced since your relationship with Lewis Hamilton became public has been unimaginable... and that’s putting it lightly.
Although you were somewhat used to the spotlight thanks to your rising career as an actress, flashes from cameras, crowds shouting for you to turn around so they could get a picture, and the occasional fan asking for a photo or autograph, the world of Formula 1 was completely new to you.
You couldn’t deny that you were unhappy with how drastically your life had changed. The man who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari had become everything you had ever imagined in a partner. kind, undeniably caring, and, most importantly, empathetic enough to understand how overwhelming this sudden rise in fame was for you.
Lewis had noticed how down you’d been ever since he decided to post those photos of you both in Maranello. You had both agreed to go together so he could test one of those legendary red cars for the first time, fully aware that people would inevitably start talking. That day, you decided to make your relationship public after keeping it a secret for about six months, agreeing that it was best to do so before the 2025 season began.
Despite it all, despite how much you had started closing yourself off in the following weeks, Lewis remained by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the world. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him, especially when all you did was act like everything was fine on the outside while you were slowly destroying yourself inside.
The nightmare began with small comments on the photo Lewis had uploaded to Instagram, just you, posing timidly in front of the Ferrari while he held you around the waist, smiling like never before. At first, the comments didn’t seem like a big deal, with people just wanting to know more about your relationship or if it was serious. But soon, the messages started pouring in, insults and threats far worse than you had ever imagined, many of them coming from underage girls. Eventually, you had to disable comments on every single one of your photos, no matter how old they were.
However, what truly became a living nightmare for you were the Twitter threads and, especially, the accounts dedicated exclusively to Formula 1 wags. They were relentless, tearing you apart, analyzing your every move as if dating one of the 20 drivers on the grid was equivalent to committing first-degree murder.
“She’s just looking for fame now that her acting career is taking off.”
“She doesn’t deserve someone like Lewis.”
“She’s too young for him.”
“And let’s not even talk about how ugly she is… have you seen her?”
You sighed, throwing your phone onto the couch with such force that it ended up crashing onto the floor. But you didn’t even bother to check if it was broken. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t read any more comments, wouldn’t even open your Instagram account, yet you couldn’t resist. After all, you were human, and the weight of it all was becoming too much to bear, even more than you were willing to admit to Lewis, to whom you hadn’t fully opened up yet.
The hotel room in Tokyo, where you and Lewis had decided to stay for one of your last vacations before the season began, fell into complete silence. The only sound that filled the space was your muffled sobs.
“And who even is she? Nobody knows her.”
“Lewis deserves someone better, that’s for sure.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.
You couldn’t understand it. It felt so unfair... Why were you being treated this way just for loving someone? Why did people throw venomous words at you without even knowing you, without even trying to? Did being a fan of Lewis automatically mean they had to hate you?
You tried to relax, to break free from the spiral of thoughts that only led you to overthink, but it was impossible. Once your mind started down that path, the only thing it knew how to do was tear you apart from the inside.
As you tried to steady your breathing and quickly wiped away your tears, a knock echoed at the door.
You pulled yourself together as fast as you could, forcing a smile while glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything possible to pretend that everything was fine, that you were fine.
But the moment you opened the door and saw Lewis, drenched in sweat from his gym session and pulling out his earbuds, you immediately turned around and rushed into the nearest room, the bathroom, locking yourself inside to keep him from seeing you like this.
“Come on, Y/N...”
Lewis knew you too well by now. No matter how hard you tried to convince him otherwise, he could see right through you, he knew you were struggling, and struggling pretty badly.
He didn’t do anything at first. He didn’t know what to do. He was afraid that whatever he said or did might only make things worse, might make you shut down even more. Instead, he rested his forehead against the closed door, feeling defeated, thinking of ways to make you feel worthy enough to stop torturing yourself over what strangers were saying online, people who knew nothing about your relationship and even less about you.
Eventually, you decided to come out. Lewis saw you, completely defeated, and he cursed himself for letting things get to this point. What had he done wrong to make you feel this way? God, you were just a girl in your early twenties who had recently made the leap to Hollywood stardom after moving to Los Angeles at sixteen, waiting tables in a run-down bar, and facing countless failed auditions until you finally landed the role that changed everything.
“Hey, love,” Lewis spoke as gently as possible, his eyes scanning your red-rimmed ones and your tangled hair. “What’s wrong?”
He knew exactly what was wrong, but he wanted you to be the one to speak, to let it all out.
You took a deep breath and pointed at your phone, still lying on the floor. A nervous knot tightened in your stomach, and your hands began to fidget anxiously. As if on cue, tears started streaming down your face once more.
“I just… I don’t understand why they have to be like this. What did I do to deserve this? Am I not good enough? Not pretty enough for you?”
Lewis sighed. He had known from the beginning that not everyone would accept your relationship, but the amount of hate you were facing was beyond excessive. He was exhausted by the senseless comments and social media accounts created solely to spew hate at you. And even more, he was tired of becoming tabloid fodder, followed everywhere by paparazzi eager to capture any moment they could.
Seeing you like this hurt him in ways he couldn’t even describe, and it made him feel miserable.
“Hey, Y/N… look at me.”
Despite speaking to you firmly and holding your hand, gently rubbing your skin with his thumb to calm you down, you didn’t respond. Lewis then cupped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at him.
“I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, and I also know that with how stubborn you are, you probably won’t listen to me, but don’t let what they say about you bother you,” he wanted to say, but all he really cared about was you. “What matters is that I love you, okay?”
“But... why does it have to affect me? Why did I used to not care about anything, and now I care so much about the opinion of strangers?” you asked, hesitantly, biting your lip in an attempt to relax.
Lewis moved even closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. He hated seeing you like this, especially when before all of this started, you were a light in his life, and it was him who used to lean on you when race weekends got overwhelming.
“Because you’re human, babe,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. “Even though we sometimes say the opposite, we all care about what others think of us, especially when all they want to do is bring us down.”
“But... what if they’re right? What if I’m not what you deserve?”
“Do I need to remind you again that they’re wrong?” Lewis said, pulling you slightly away so your gazes met. “You need to remember how much you mean to me, but more than that, you need to remember who you are and all that you’re worth. That’s all that matters.”
You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, once again crying quietly to avoid him seeing you like this.
“I’m ugly, Lew. Really ugly,” you confessed without lifting your head. “I don’t even know how you love me, or how you agreed to be with me after all those months we spent talking and hanging out as friends, or…”
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t let them say that. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, and you’ve always been, alright? Anyone who says otherwise needs to get their eyes checked.”
You laughed, and Lewis felt that as a small victory.
You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. For the first time in a long while, you pushed aside the intrusive thoughts, the destructive comments you saw daily on social media, and allowed yourself the luxury of, for just a moment, trying to stop torturing yourself and accepting that there were things you couldn’t change.
Lewis’s words, while brief and somewhat familiar to you, brought a peace you hadn’t felt in days. You did your best to let the tension in your shoulders melt away, slowly separating from him and moving your arms bit by bit.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lew,” you whispered, once again wrapping your arms around his waist, wishing you could never let go of him.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Lewis chuckled, planting kisses on your forehead. “I’m never going to leave you, and I hope you’ll never leave me either.”
Neither of you said anything more. Your bodies remained close, exchanging shy kisses, making promises that everything would get better as you both talked about the changes you’d face in 2025. That was enough for you both to know things were going to be okay.
You both understood that the big, risky changes you were taking, especially your relationship, were going to be difficult, just like what was happening with you and the wave of hate you were receiving. But once you stopped giving it too much importance, or rather, no importance at all, no one would stop you as the newest couple in Formula 1.
“Hey, listen to me, please... I’ve been thinking about something.”
Lewis’s words caught your attention as you were starting to drift off to sleep in bed. You straightened up, your hand still intertwined with his.
“How about we take a walk, and you can get to know the city a bit?” he suggested. “You know… we could go eat out, hit up an arcade, or maybe…”
“Can you get me a stuffed animal from one of those weird claw machines?!” you interrupted him, excited, which made Lewis burst out laughing.
“Of course, I can get you a stuffed animal, or buy you all the ones you want.”
You smiled, and as Lewis went to the bathroom for a shower, you began to prepare for the day. That moment was exactly when you realized you needed to trust yourself more and, specially, just as Lewis valued you. Because if there was one thing you’d learned from him in the short time you’d been together, it was that, no matter what you did, you’d always be the envy of others, so you just needed to remind yourself that you didn’t need to feel worse for living the life you’d always dreamed of and, moreover, you worked hard to have.
#formula 1#f1#lewis hamilton#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1 fluff#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton x y/n#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton fic#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#lewis hamilton f1#lewis hamilton x female reader#lewis hamilton x you#lh44 x reader#hamilton
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Attention
Pairing: Hwang In-hu x recruier!fem!reader ; slight Salesman x fem!reader
Warnings: jealous!In-Hu; slightly obsessive!In-Hu; slightly suggestive themes and words: yearning; angst; probably ooc!In-Hu
Word count: ~4k
Author’s note: sooo this is my first fanfiction I have written in 10 years, what this man does to me… I needed some more recruiter!reader as I am so obsessed with the idea. I also included the Salesman as he is my other guilty pleasure. I deeply want to write a part 2 , let me know if you are interested!
Hwang In-Hu had always hated clubs. He hated the obnoxious music. He hated the smell of sweat and desperation. He hated people pushing into each other. He hated the shameless displays of people grinding and almost taking their clothes in the middle of the dance floor. He hated the cheap liquor diluted with water. He hated random people getting it on in those disgusting toilets. It was safe to say, In-Hu would rather be anywhere else than there.
But there was one thing he didn’t hate about it.
Her hair was bouncing to the rapid rhythm, her body somehow knowing how to sway to every beat of every song, sending him into a trance. She would always make eye contact with him lip syncing to the filthiest lyrics. Her lips always painted in a beautiful red color almost begging him to come over and taste them. It was almost like their own ritual. He would sit at their reserved table in a leather armchair, nursing a glass of whiskey, while she would be just within his eye reach dancing, a mischievous look behind those oh so pretty eyes.
But tonight was different. Tonight, unless absolutely having to, she would not look at him, not address him. It was like In-Hu was not worthy of her attention. He was aware he fucked up, that was the whole reason he even showed up to this God forsaken rats’ nest. The more she ignored him, the more starved he became, a combination of anger and hurt playing at his heartstrings.
Lust and guilt coiled tightly within him, indistinguishable from one another. She wasn’t just beautiful—her beauty was deliberate, a weapon she wielded with precision. And him, unarmed and unprepared, stood squarely in her sights. He should’ve looked away. He didn’t. In-Hu took another sip of the whiskey as he watched her dance with him as he contemplated what has brought him to this specific moment.
It was a sunny morning in Seoul, a rare occurrence in the grey autumn. He looked over at the other side of the bed, finding her sleeping peacefully. She was sleeping on her back, her beautiful hair splattered on the black satin pillow. Her chest was slowly rising and falling, his white crisp shirt covering almost nothing of her perfect figure. For the first time since he had met her 3 years ago, she looked delicate, youthful, carefree. Gone were the sassy attitude, the makeup, the expensive clothes and her sharp tongue. In-Hu placed a soft kiss between her breasts as he made his way out of the bed into the shower.
The smell of her skin, the sound of her voice moaning, the softness of her delicate body, they were all stuck in his mind, as well as her little love confession. He was planning to get started on breakfast, make some coffee, treat her like a princess. As he exited his shower, he took a look at his phone, making sure he hadn’t missed any important work-related calls. The games were going to start in just over a week and everything had to be perfect. That’s when he saw the date.
25th of October.
In-Hu’s heart dropped as he read it over and over again. No, it wasn’t possible. The 25th was going to be in a few days. He franticly opened his calendar checking again.
And again online.
And again, on his physical one.
And all over again on his phone.
He felt a rush of panic wash through him. Hwang In-Hu was not a man that panicked. Or a forgetful man. Ever. But even so the thought was plaguing his mind: He had forgotten. How could have that happened? Afterall, it was the anniversary of his wife’s death. He would always buy her flowers on the 25th. He would always bring them over to her grave. He would always spend at least 2 hours speaking to her, to her and their unborn child.
Well, until now, he did at least. Uncontrollable anger burned through his mind. Anger at himself, anger at her. He was supposed to be at the cemetery. Not saying yes to her invite to have some drinks at the bar near their work. Not letting a spoiled insane subaltern seduce him with her long lashes and playful smiles. Not fucking said stupid girl who was two whole decades younger than him.
He didn’t even realize when she sneaked behind him, putting her arms around his waist and smiling into his back.
“Good morning, handsome” her voice whispered softly.
The sweetness in her voice made his heart flutter. Which in turn, made him even more inexplicably angry. His body tensed up under her touch and he pushed her arms away.
“Someone woke up to the wrong side of the bed” she teased.
Under any other circumstance, he would have been amused. She would always tease him and he quite frankly found it as endearing as it also turned him on.
“It’s time for you to go” In-Hu replied coldly.
He could see her tense up as well. Her hands crossed over her body. His dress shirt which he found so unbelievably hot on her earlier now looked like a painful reminder of his own shame.
“Excuse me?” her voice was controlled but she was hiding her built up anger as well.
“I said, you should leave. You were great last night and everything, but let’s not treat it as if it was more than us scratching an inch.” His voice was measured and he looked into her eyes. He could see she was hurt by his words. Damn it, he hated seeing her in pain.
“In-Hu, you said you loved me last night. You told me how long you’ve waited to say it, to kiss me. You kissed me as if you were dying and I was the only thing that could save you.”
God, she was right. He did and say it all, and he did mean it. His face was cold unenterable.
“Maybe you should not listen to what old perverted men like me tell you. God, your father really did a number on you if you are dumb enough to sleep with any old men.” In-Hu knew his words would hurt her, but he needed her to stay away. It was better like this. The anger he harbored in that moment for himself and for her would only end in one way: violence. And while he was all for rough play, he would not touch her in that way.
“I called you a taxi already”
Smack
The sound of her hand hitting him across the face echoed in the penthouse. His jaw clenched, his eyes suddenly burning of desire. The thoughts of his wife finally stopped and there was nothing but silence. Without giving it another thought, his palms found her cheeks pulling her into a desperate hungry kiss. He felt her body tense up and she pulled away.
Smack
Her eyes were burning of unspoken anger and pain, some tears threatening to fall. She angrily spit in his face. It took him by surprise. Everything was so quick.
“Fuck you” she whispered.
She turned around grabbing the remains of her dress and heels and she hurried out. She looked almost pathetic. Her figure gathering everything in the stupid white shirt. To him, she never looked so small, so broken and his heart almost ached. When she left, silence took over completely. In-Hu knew he screwed up, badly, but in that second, her feelings were the last thing on his mind.
The next time they met was just after the games, earlier tonight. She had not tried contacting him after the incident and neither did he. Whether it was guilt or his shame it did not matter. He poured it all into the games. In-Hu tried to pretend it was just another incident that did not affect him in the slightest. At the end of the day, she was just another employee, another recruiter. He promised himself he would never betray the memory of his wife again. As long as he did not see her it was fine.
Then it came the celebration. Oh Il-Nam decided for everyone in the company to meet for dinner and a poker night at one of the most reputable places in Seoul. Their blackjack table was set apart from the others in a private room overlooking the city. It was a tradition after all, every year after the end of the games, they would come together to celebrate it. As he was very much aware, that would probably be the last one hosted by Il-Nam and as Frontman and the next in line to take his place as the Host, he knew it was mandatory for him to attend regardless of personal feelings.
At first, he told himself that it was fine. That he will see her again and they would both be acting professional for the sake of Il-Nam. While she was an attention seeker through and through, In-Hu was not about to grant her the satisfaction of regretting his choices. As expected, he was one of the first ones to arrive. One by one all appeared before the scheduled time 20:00. His heart quickened as the arrival time came and went but she was not there. He scoffed to himself. Of course she was late, always making an entrance, always captivating the eye of every man that dared to breathe in her presence. In Hu liked to lie to himself and say it never affected him like that. Sure, she was stunningly beautiful, but she was just another woman. And then she did finally appear.
Dressed in a mini black Yves Saint Laurent dress hugging every curve of her body, her red bottom heels clicking as she made her entrance. Her signature red lipstick and blow out making her look utterly ethereal. She had a black leather trench that one of the valets quickly pulled down. She was wearing tight high stockings and for a few seconds, In-hu forgot how to breathe. The officer looked at him knowingly and handed him a glass of whiskey.
She was a storm that commanded surrender, and everyone fell willingly.
Throughout the whole night, she did not even glance once towards him. She sat down next to the Salesman. God, how he disliked that one. In-Hu saw him as nothing more than a psychopath. A useful psychopath, but none the less, a psychopath. He never even bothered to know his name, for him it did not matter, he was as important like a gum stuck onto his shoe. He could remark that he was a loyal one though, every year bringing one of the biggest number of recruits for the games, as big as the ones she did. After all, he was the one that recruited him as well. He supposed his disdain for the man came from that.
As dinner finished, the mandatory game of blackjack started. At this point it was tradition. It was Il-Nam’s favorite game and as it was most probably the last year he would take part in it; he saw it as proper to participate. However, he could not concentrate on the game. He heard her giggle, and his eyes instinctively went to find her.
In-hu saw her arrange the Salesman’s tie, while whispering seductively in his ear, her hand touching his chest for a little more time than necessarily. He felt himself getting angry as he saw the perfectly manicured hands traveling onto the other man’s body. It was not like he has not seen it before. He was perfectly aware of her flirtatious manners, at the end of the day, she acted the same way towards him. So why was he getting so irrationally angry?
“I win again. At this point, you guys have to try a little harder, it is getting exhausting to keep on seeing you lose” she said smugly as she dragged the tokens towards her, a smirk playing on her perfect lips.
“And what do I win, if I may be so indiscreet?” the Salesman’s voice purred close to her ear.
“Children, behave, there are elders present” In-Hu’s voice rang before he could control it. He was starting to get irritated by the sound of his stupid voice.
“Oh, In-hu, it’s fine. I think it is rather exciting to raise the stakes. You know how these young ones are, they would do anything for the thrill” Il-Nam’s voice said amused. “And after all, I think they would make quite a dashing pair.”
Jealousy coiled in his chest like a venomous snake, hissing and writhing with every stolen glance he dared to throw at her. What did he even mean? The Salesman was 40 for god’s sake, and she was 25! It was not as if they were witnessing some sort of young exciting love story. No, it was a psychopath and a brat trying to get his attention. However, he gave a cold smile towards the pair and returned to his hand, wishing this night would end already. He had no idea that it was just getting started.
After about two hours, Il-Nam announced that he would be leaving. And that was the moment, In Hu knew things were about to take a turn. Until that moment, everything between her and the Salesman were casual touches. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he was aware of her intentions to make him suffer in every way she could imagine, and he was not about to let her succeed.
“Full house” her voice sang.
She won. Again. It would have been impressive if it was not so annoying. Did she have to be so good at everything? In Hu thought gritting his teeth. It was unfair how natural everything came to her. She was the most interesting and exciting person he had ever met. Every single move was perfectly executed with grace laced by playfulness, her fingers intertwined with a martini glass in one hand and a cigarette in another. Every time her lips pressed to the filter fascinated the Frontman completely. Every strand of hair framing her soft features, reminding him of the night they spent together.
“Not going to lie, you guys are really boring” she said raising an eyebrow. “But since I won again, I propose the following, you each owe me a drink at a place of my choosing.”
“And where would that be?” The Officer asked.
“Oh, I want to go dancing” she smirked as she left the martini glass on the table.
“Dancing? I would rather shoot myself” In-Hu scoffed.
“I’m sorry, did you win? No, I didn’t think so” she said looking straight into the man’s eyes.
If looks could kill, he would have been a dead man.
“Well, I for one would love to take you anywhere you wanted. A deal is a deal” the Salesman added, his hand slipping on her exposed back.
While going to a club was the last thing that In Hu wanted, he was not going to let him take her out of his sight. He clenched his jaw tightly. He thought about how easy it would be to simply pull out his gun on that psychopath’s head and simply end it right now. God why did she have to make it so messy? While replaceable, he thought about the hassle he would have to go through to find another man to take his job and actually do it as well. No, killing the Salesman would only create more problems for himself, but the image of her pretty face being covered in a quick splash of his blood was tempting.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
And now there he was, watching her like a hawk, toying with his drink, while she was dancing with someone he should had squished like a bug, the second he got in power. No matter, in all due time, he would be gone. His beautiful muse was swaying seductively to the beat of the song while playing with the Salesman’s tie, her eyes hungry for more. In Hu knew that look well. It was the same look she had in her eyes while she was on top of him just a few weeks ago. Hungry, desperate, mischievous.
“So, are you going to do something or let that piece of trash get your woman?” the Officer inquired pulling the Frontman out of his spell.
“I have no idea what you are talking about” In Hu replied coldly downing the rest of the drink. He had asked the bartender for the whole bottle; he knew he would need it the second they entered. He lit up a cigarette while pouring another glass, his eyes still stuck on the two of them.
“Come on, you look ready to jump and kill him on the spot” the other man said lighting up a cigarette of his own. While technically not allowed on the premises of the club, what were they going to do? Kick them out?
“Maybe I will”
“We both know that would be unwise. And besides, I’ve seen her stealing glances at you, that is exactly what she wants. So do all of us a favor and fuck her good, cause if you don’t… I just know he would make sure she screams.”
“Mind your tongue, Officer.”
“Come on man, we both know her type. Bitches like her need to know their place.”
The second the words came out of his mouth, In hu took his cigarette from his lips swiftly and extinguished it on the back of the man’s hand. He would not have anyone speak that way, not of her. The Officer winced in surprise but did not have the courage to say another word. This was a warning.
“Next time I will not be so nice about it. Speak another ill word about her and I just might shatter a glass and cut that finger of yours off. Or better yet, your tongue.”
His eyes went back to the show in front of him. There was his woman, dancing now on the top of the bar with a bottle of Don Perignon champagne. Her smile was big and seductive, her moves perfectly rehearsed. God, the more he looked at her the more stunning she looked. Her skin glistened under the club light. Her hair once styled to perfection was bouncing around wildly to the music. She moved effortlessly, like gravity was an afterthought, and the air around her seemed taut, tethered to her presence by an invisible string.
Seeing her like that, made his heart flutter. She truly was spectacular. And for a second, she looked at him again. He could have sworn the planet stopped spinning in that moment. Everyone else fading into darkness as if they were the only two people in the world.
“Do you believe in true love?” Her question surprised him.
It was the night they met randomly in the bar by the office. In Hu was dressed in a jet-black Versace suit, his hair slicked backed. Expensive shoes were slowly tapping to the sound of jazz music in the background. He took a moment before he responded, his face staring into his empty glass.
“If you had asked me this 5 years ago, I would have said yes.”
“And now?”
“Only sometimes. Usually when I look at you.”
His words surprised even himself. Maybe it was the one too many glasses of whiskey, or the way she looked at him from behind those doe eyes. Maybe it was the way her knee was slightly touching his or her scent. Amber and vanilla. Always amber and vanilla, sometimes with a faint cigarette smell. She smiled and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. If only she knew the effect she had on him, he would never hear the end of it.
“Now, Sir, maybe you should stop speaking like that or I might start to believe you are in love with me”
In Hu did not respond but a smirk appeared on his lips. He leaned over to her and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. His palm then travelled onto her cheek finally resting by her lips. She looked at him, a seductive grin taking form. Carefully, she kissed his palm, and each finger, while maintaining the Frontman’s gaze. When done with her little show, she lightly took his thumb in her mouth slowly sucking on it.
“Tsk tsk, little dove, careful what you wish for” he warned her, his face stern but feeling his heart rate go slowly upwards.
Her eyes effortlessly left his, her attention peaked by the Salesman’s voice, breaking their trance. As soon as he no longer felt her gaze, In-Hu made up his mind. He had made a mistake, one that he would do anything to fix. While he hated the way the Officer spoke about her, he was right about one thing. She was his woman after all, and this cat and mouse game was getting old. He was man enough to admit that he had lost against her and now all he wanted was to take her to his bed and fuck her hard to show her who she belonged to. He got up the sofa just as he saw her get down from the bar.
“Finally,” the Officer muttered.
“Did I not make myself clear last time?”
In Hu’s voice snapped glaring at his colleague, taking his eye off her for just a second. His gaze went back to the spot he had left her but she was no longer there. In the dark he saw a glint of the back of her dress leaving towards the side of the bar. The Frontman finished his drink and made his way to follow her. He was not even sure what to say to her, he had never acted impulsively before. Every single one of his actions had been perfectly calculated for the past few years.
Lost in thought he had caught up with her. That’s when he saw the scene unfolding in front of him. Her back was pressed against the wall, her hands folded around the Salesman’s neck, fingers tangled into his dark black hair. His woman’s legs were resting around his torso. He could make out the man’s face buried deep into her neck kissing it sloppily, her head tilted slightly on the side, a soft moan escaping her beautiful lips. And then she looked straight ahead into In Hu’s eyes. A sarcastic smile played on her mouth. Fuck you, her eyes said before capturing the Recruiter’s lips in a passionate kiss, her beautiful legs pulling him in closer to her own body.
The Frontman froze for a few seconds as he watched them kiss as if there was no tomorrow, their bodies busy in a seductive tango. Anger and jealousy danced within his veins fueling his body completely. Not now, he thought desperately trying to keep his mask of coldness from cracking under the club lights. But deep inside he also felt the familiar sting of a feeling he long ago buried.
Pain. Gut wrenching pain.
#hwang in ho x reader#hwang in ho#the salesman#squid game#hwang in ho x you#salesman x you#squid game s2#squid game headcanons#squid game netflix#in ho x reader#the recruiter
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Only If For A Night
ꕥ series masterlist & taglist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3
⟢summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.
⟢pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader
⟢warnings for this part: Mentions of dead bodies, Harrenhal visions, light gore, Ser Crispy Coleslaw, Aemond being jealous and horny.
⟢wc: 7,872
⟢gif credit: @peachysunrize but she deleted her acc so im sorry!
Chapter 3: Me and the Devil
She was doing her best not to lose her mind. She’s never been stuck in a situationship like this before. Or hardly knew anyone that had been. Stuff like this only occurred in…books. In which she was now in the middle of.
She had so many questions yet no answers.
She knew she had to come up with some sort of well thought out plan. But if she was being honest, she barely even had a pl. As Phoebe Buffay once said on an early episode of Friends.
One thing was for sure, she was in the Riverlands. Harrenhal. Westeros. If she had her history correct, and she did, the year is currently 130 AC.
Rhaenyra Targaryen had just taken over the city of King’s Landing with the help of the Rogue Prince at her side.
She recalls how this news caused Aemond to go on a seize of murderous rampage, killing the entirety of House Strong. The very same pile of dead bodies she saw in the outer yard, those were them.
As much as she tried, she couldn’t get that horrifying image out of her head. Not now and perhaps not even the days to come. With every blink of her eyes, she saw them; bloody, decaying, eyes wide of what they felt before death: fear.
Don’t throw up, don’t throw up.
Not that there was much in her stomach to.
Shortly after Aemond had severed the guard’s head, she had literally thrown up just inches away from his feet.
He did not say much, only bringing a small green handkerchief from his pocket and wiped remnants away from her lips. Instead of being angry or disgusted, Aemond’s face exhibited only concern.
Because of that she was escorted inside Harren’s castle with haste by Aemond’s orders. With the very little time she had, she tried to go against this but her words were swiftly overlooked and ignored.
She was brought into a medium sized room at the highest tower of Harrenhal. The room wasn’t much to look at. High stoned black walls with no decorations or personality. A canopy bed with multiple pillows and furs laid near the window with two nightstands on each side, holding lit candelabras.
Facing the canopy was a vanity table with nothing but dried flowers and a dusted mirror that she couldn’t make out her reflection. It was obvious that no one had occupied this room in a very long time. The cobwebs, near all four corners of the ceiling, confirmed it.
To the left of the vanity was a beige folding screen and behind it was a large white bathtub that she had been thrown in immediately upon arriving in the room by two older women.
After she had been bathed and dressed, a third woman delivered a hot cup of peppermint tea to ease the nausea. However, after they left she made sure to discard the cup, choosing not to drink anything, harboring feelings of distrust when she previously drank a cup of tea.
The sound of the door being opened caused her to sit rigidly on the chair, thinking it was a particular one eyed prince entering the room. Instead, the knots in her stomach loosened as an elderly man made his way inside, offering her a simple smile before he set a leather bag he’d been holding on a nearby table.
Her mouth opened, wondering who he was but as she assessed his gray robes and the several decorated chains hanging from his neck, he’d have to be a maester.
Something close to a doctor in her world.
“You have not touched the tea, my lady.” His voice was barely audible, gentle as he pointed out. “Are you allergic to peppermint?”
“No,” she shook her head, her eyes landing on the medical supplies being brought to the rounded table. She recognized some of them such as the suturing kit, scale, gauze, scissors and a scalpel.
Her abuelo, Vidalio, had a collection of identical vintage medical supplies in his office that often as a kid she’d glance at in complete fascination.
“Are you not partial to peppermint?” The maester questioned.
“I’m not partial to drinking something that I did not see being made,” she added. After drinking that tea Alyssandra had given her, there was no way she’d risk doing that again. “Besides, peppermint is most known to target headaches. If you were to mix ginger and chamomile, then you have an accurate tea to treat nausea.”
The maester lifted a bush eyebrow, cocking his head to side taking her suggestion into consideration. “Very well. I’ll bring a cup of boiling water—” He tried saying, only for her to sprint directly in front of him.
“—there’s no need. I am well; as you can see.” She feigned a recovered smile.
“I still am in need of boiling water to brew milk of the poppy, my lady.”
It was her turn to gaze at him in wonder. “What for?” She inquired. She knew what milk of the poppy was. An opium made from the poppy flower to aid in severe pain and to anesthetize a person out cold in a deep sleep.
It was also the same pearly liquid she read in A Game of Thrones that Grand Maester Pycelle used to treat Ned Stark after an altercation he had with Jaime Lannister, which gave the Warden of the North, strange dreams. ‘Poppy dreams’ otherwise known as hallucinations.
As helpful as it was, it was also very addictive. Equivalent to morphine and fentanyl. As an intern at St. David’s Hospital, she’d seen how bad opioids took a toll on people.
So it was safe enough to say she wasn’t going to be easily convinced to take it.
The older man pointed at the swollen cut on her lower lip, where that asshole of a guard had slapped her hours ago. “The wound on your lip; I have to stitch it. I will use milk of the poppy to ease the discomfort when inserting the needle into your lip.”
“I already said I’m fine.” She answers more firmly. She glanced at the multitudinous array of small amber jars on the table that contained different kinds of fine powders, liquids, dried herbs, seeds, and strange looking roots.
She was able to make out a little bit of everything. Though, nothing of the sort would be needed for something so minor. Rubbing alcohol and perhaps a topical antibiotic ointment were as good as any.
“Tis’ not what the prince thinks, my lady.” The maester abruptly murmurs out, fearfully looking at the door. If the prince were to walk into the room, seeing his guest not being properly treated as he demanded, he too would suffer the same unmerciful fate as his lord.
“It’s a superficial cut! You can tell the prince, I don’t need tea or stitches.” What she needed was to get out of here and go home.
“A topical amoxicillin ointment should be enough. Though, I don’t think it exists here.” In fact no modern medicine could be found here. This era was if not the same as medieval times, where people die everyday of infection or contamination due to the lack of antibiotics, antivirals, and vaccines.
She felt lucky that all of her vaccines were up to date.
Except maybe for her yearly flu shot. Fuck!
The maester tilted his head in surprise, “Are you a healer?” He asked, intrigued that she too knew medicinal practices. Most witches did not, if he believed the rumors around the castle.
She crouched down, eyeing the herbs that caught her attention.
“Something like that. I know enough to know that I don’t need stitches. It’s just a little bit of swelling that will go down in a day or two if I ice it.” Though, she wasn’t sure how the maester would get ice in the Riverlands. If this was the North, ice wouldn’t be a problem.
The maester, befuddled, nodded. Knowing that his endeavors to treat her lip were pointless, he slid her a small amber salve of bread mold.
She gave him a ‘what the hell is that?’ kind of look, in which he explained it was an ointment to prevent infections.
After a few series of questions, she realized that this bread mold was as close as what she was going to get to penicillin.
A look of relief and ease plastered on the maester’s face as she delicately dabbed some of the salve on her wound. She was equivocal if the salve was meant to have a bitter taste or smell, but she kept her thoughts to herself as she wanted this visit to speed up.
“What’s your name?” She asked while watching the man place his medical supplies in his bag with uttermost care.
“They call me Maester Nywen.” He revealed.
She pronounced his name repeatedly in her head, trying to remember if he was mentioned in Fire & Blood. Though, there was no record of him at all.
“I’m—”
“I know who you are, my lady.” Nywen interjected. Everyone knew her name, including the walls of Haren’s castle. It was said she possessed otherworldly abilities unknown to men.
In his many years serving House Strong, Nywen never came across her path. Never saw her in the flesh. Just tales and rumors. Some that he believed; such as her being his lord’s favorite out of his true born sons and daughters. Some that Nywen didn’t quite believe; like the rumor of her bathing in maiden’s blood to remain forever youthful.
Looking at her now, her complexion differed from what he pictured.
To her befuddlement, she had no idea how Nywen knew her name. She didn’t remember mentioning it to anyone, including the old ladies.
This was all some weird mystery that was making her feel dizzy and unsettled. She only now wished she had some Ibuprofen or an Advil pill to dull the pain in her head.
“If this is all, I must take my leave. Good day, my lady.”
“Wait! I’ll go with you,” she called out, and the older man came to a halt before he exited the door.
A look of sympathy came on Nywen’s face. “Apologies, my lady, but the prince ordered for you to remain here.”
“Wait, what?!” She followed a close second after him, perplexed. Nywen gave her one last look of remorse, “I am sorry, my lady. You won’t be kept in here for long. The prince has some matters to attend to before he calls for you. Should you come in need of anything, ring the bell.”
“Nywen!” She called out, but it was too late as the door was suddenly closed right in her face. The sound of a lock confirmed her fears.
She was alone again.
She wondered how abuela Selena was doing. The older woman, who’d been more like a second mother to her, had come across her mind a lot more now.
Had she known she was missing?
Of course she did; she was probably seriously panicking right now and sent out a search party to look for her.
The pueblo was small, and it wouldn’t have taken her family long to figure out she wasn’t there or in any surrounding pueblos. She knew that wouldn’t hinder them from continuing their search for her. Her family were strong and brazen fighters and would stop at nothing to keep the family safe.
She also wondered if her mother knew. Though, she already knew the answer to that. Her very overprotective mother, who calls every hour of each day, must have flown from the states the second she did not answer the phone. A heavy argument most likely would’ve happened between her mother and her abuela, Selena, for not keeping a close eye on her.
Even if the fault had not been her abuela’s, she feared that her disappearance became a fresh new layer of conflict added on top of the decades long strife between her mother and Selena.
She did not wish for that. For years, she’d attempted to push them together to communicate and get past whatever tension they had between them. She prayed that things would not escalate further between them in her absence.
She could just imagine seeing them after all of this was over.
But to pinpoint when?
Now, that was going to be challenging.
She was so high up in Harren’s castle that she wished she were some type of bird. A raven, perhaps. With great big and wide wings to fly to carry her away.
Fly, a voice whispered next to her.
Startled, she snapped her head up to the side in the direction of the voice. “What?” She asked with a shaky voice.
You have wings. Use them.
She glanced behind her shoulders, feeling for soft feathers but was met with bare skin and no wings.
“Liar.” She asserted back. And the voice responded something in return, though it was barely audible.
However, something in the room had shifted. It became darker, colder, and overall strange. The dark hairs on her arms stood when the flames of the candles blew out one by one by themselves while the hinges of the door creaked open.
A thin curtain of light appeared at the end of the hall and her body seemed to sense some type of energy vibrating around the room, pulling her to leave now that the door was unlocked.
A part of her debated whether or not to take the risk and leave as this was exactly how people died in scary movies, by following strange energies. Another part of her said fuck it, sensing the energy as not evil or not good either.
She let out a frightened gasp as the door shut completely from behind and the vibrating energy increased tenfold. The longer she walked throughout the corridor, she began to realize that the buzzing was actually a low humming sound echoing down the hall.
A song.
Arrorró, mi niño
Arrorró, mi Sol
Arrorró pedazo
De mi corazón
Abuelo Vidalio would sing that exact song as a lullaby when she had trouble sleeping as a child. Which happened to be all of the time since she experienced very vivid dreams about strange people and creatures she did not recognize. Vidalio, with his soothing voice, would be there to sing the bad dreams away.
Este niño lindo
Que nació de noche
Quiere que lo lleven
A pasear en coche
Could it be him?
With trembling hands, she takes a peek through the slim opening. A large and nicely furnished room is set directly in front of her. It sort of reminded her of Vidalio’s private studio near the outskirts of her family’s home. Vidalio had a love for old vintage things like outdated medical books, scrolls, medical supplies, herb vials, maps, and furniture.
Some of those things decorated the inside room.
In the center, a man sat on a wooden rocking chair with his back towards her. She glanced at the carvings on the top rail of the chair; a three headed dragon, wolf, lion, some sort of sea creature, fish, falcon, stag, and a rose.
Instantly, she knew who the rocking chair belonged to.
“Abuelo?” She asks aporetically. Although she missed him terribly, she secretly hoped it wouldn’t be him. Since he, himself, had been dead for years. And it wasn’t like she didn’t believe in ghosts; she did.
The humming impetuously ends before it begins, and so does the back and forth movement of the rocking chair.
Purple eyes stare directly at hers like he’d been waiting a while for her to come in. “El niño no se puede dormir,” Vidalio addresses her in complete distress. (the boy can’t fall asleep)
His appearance made her halt on her tracks, he looked and dressed differently than what he normally looked like. She remembered him older, tanner, his light blonde hair styled directly away from his face, with more modern fitted clothes.
Here he was younger with milky white skin that was untouched from the harsh Mexican sun; his hair slightly long and silver. And more importantly, his clothes were strange and old fashioned, almost aristocratic.
The only way she knew for certain this was her abuelo, was by a polaroid her abuela took of Vidalio when he was young, were they both briefly lived in Cancun.
How was it possible that he was here, in Harrenhal?
In Westeros?
How could it be?
Her lack of response causes Vidalio to continue humming the lullaby as he sways something tight on his arms.
A boy, no more than eight, laid lifeless across Vidalio’s arms. Small cuts and bruises painted across the young boy’s small and delicate face and body. All while fresh blood dripped from the side of his chest, pooling down onto the floor.
He was bleeding out.
Yet, the boy was already dead.
What was more harrowing of it all, were the boy’s eyes. They were a rich and dark violet color, wide, blinking and staring right at her.
Through her.
It was the only thing about him that was alive.
Este niño lindo
Ya quiere dormir
Háganle la cuna
De rosa y jazmín
“We need to take him to a hospital,” she frantically suggested. Maybe the boy wasn’t completely deceased. Maybe all he needed was proper medical attention like a blood transfusion and a few stitches.
“It’s too late.” Her abuelo pointed out. “All he needs now is the comfort of his mother.” Vidalio gives the boy one last hug before he stretches the body in her direction.
“What?!” She exclaims, feeling the air in her lungs rapidly leaving her body.
Surely, he didn’t mean the little boy was hers…
This didn’t seem possible. A mother is able to recognize the face of their own child. She’d hear on multiple occasions from mothers, at the hospital she interns in, how a sort of natural maternal instinct and intuition set in the moment they became mothers.
She’d know if she had a child, but that boy was not hers.
Or was it?
“I- I need to go. This isn’t real. This-this isn’t true. You aren’t real. You are dead.” She says between ragged breaths, feeling a panic attack brewing in.
She took a few steps back, only to be met with a cold hard chest. An older man, perhaps in his late sixties, with long silver-white hair and dark eyes, smiled warmly at her. Beside him, were six other men and a singular woman.
She noticed that the two older men wore more modern clothes, while the others wore some sort of old fashioned clothes similar to Vidalio’s, embroidered by the same red design.
“I’m sorry,” she let out an apology to the older man. The man, though, remained unfazed. He simply continued to look at her with tears in his eyes before he replied with a strangled voice. “Mama.”
“No. Oh, no, no.” She shook her head, placing some distance between them. All of them. As if that would help them disappear.
Yea she needed to get the fuck out right now.
She eyed the door and ran towards the opening, leaving behind people that did not exist. For a moment, she believed she heard something but dismissed it as quickly as lightning.
She saw people along her path but whether they were real or not she did not know or care for. Her goal was to leave. Leave this place, sapphire or not.
Halfway into her sprint, she got the feeling she was being followed. So she ran into a solitary hallway and opened the first door she saw.
“You’re early.”
She drew in a sharp breath as she came across the last person she wished to see right now, none other than Aemond Targaryen.
The prince’s lone eye was practically sparkling when looking at her after being hours apart. She had been away for too long for his taste.
Aemond would have preferred for her to come after everything– the wine, dinner, and dessert– were perfectly set up on the table as he had planned.
Yet, she was here now.
With the light blue with silver gown he specifically picked out. The colors itself reminded Aemond of House Arryn, a traitorous house that sided with the whore that was his half-sister. Though, the colors were at least better than that of House Strong.
Aemond almost had the two women killed for even considering such bletcherous colors for his one and only to wear.
Blind luck was bestowed upon them when another woman quickly brought an unused gown from her daughter’s armoire. Which was the one his love was currently wearing.
She looked mesmerizing. Goddess like. The very Maiden in the flesh.
“Are you alright?” Aemond asked as he noticed her out of breath appearance.
Before she had a chance to say anything, a tall and dark haired knight came in; presumably after her as he was out of breath too.
Aemond looked between Ser Criston and his one and only, and concluded that he’d been chasing her for some time.
“Tis’ alright, Cole. No grave offense has occurred,” Aemond affirmed with a court nod.
She blinked, assessing the man who was one of few to cause the civil war, Dance of the Dragons, between Aegon and Rhaenyra.
He appeared just as he was described in the books.
Charming.
Though, she did not expect him to be quite so… short.
Whilst Aemond stood exceptionally tall, Ser Coleslaw seemed no taller than five foot and eight inches. Perhaps that is one of many reasons he was such a misogynistic dick who couldn’t handle rejection.
If she did the math correctly by the current year, he must’ve been in his late forties. Yet he had this youthful look about him that one wouldn’t have guessed he was reaching his fifties.
Not that he would live to see his fifties.
Days later he would die south of the Gods Eye.
“Holy shit, you’re Criston Cole?!” She exclaimed not with fascination but with distaste lacing her tone.
The Kingmaker placed a hand on the pommel of his sword, glaring at her with such vigilance. “I am. Have we met before?”
“Not really–”
“Leave us, Cole.” Aemond snapped unexpectedly, causing her body to jolt at the intensity of his voice.
Criston shifted his focus to the prince regent. “I think it would be wise if I stay, my prince. Wouldn’t want anything… unseemly to happen.”
Oh.
Oh.
At that, she took a few steps away from Aemond, placing as much distance between them as possible.
The mere thought of her and Aemond together made her feel uneasy and very unsettling. He was a prince. Royalty.
While she was the opposite of what he was. A simple commoner.
Aemond kept himself from frowning at the space his love placed between. He clearly did not intend to take her today, as much as he desired to.
His incessant desire and appetite would be sated the moment they were joined as one.
Which would be soon, if everything went according to plan.
“Leave us. It is a command,” Aemond said, tone much demanding and darker.
Criston clenched his jaw in anger before he turned to leave. Just as he was about to shut the door he gave her one last look.
There was no kindness in his cold green eyes. Rather he looked at her like the dirt beneath his boot that quickly needed to be swept away.
“Do you always captivate this much trouble, my lady?” Aemond asks, just seconds after the door closes.
She is only able to let out a hum as she feels all the words in her throat shrivel and dry up.
Aemond’s white linen shirt hung loosely and unbuttoned against his chest; His pants were halfway unlaced.
Aemond looked down at her silently, waiting for an answer from her. Yet she stood there gawking at the man in front of her, with his toned-pale chest on display, light silver trail of hair below his navel, leading to–
She apologizes quickly before rapidly turning around to grant him some privacy.
Doing so caused Aemond to curl his lip into a smirk. She didn’t need to be sorry about her curious glances. Aemond thought to himself. Very soon, she’ll be well acquainted with his body; as well as he with hers too.
Though, that day could not be any sooner. Much to his dismay, Aemond had to settle on that memory when she wore such sheer chemise. The same clothing he kept to himself after she was dressed, and used to pleasure himself with just moments ago.
“What makes you think that?” She added, her voice stammering a bit but she masks it with a cough.
“You outran three of my guards, for starters, and managed to harm one of them. You also fled from your chamber without so much as a word,” Aemond breathed. “Will you hand me my doublet, please?”
Her hands reached for the black leather doublet in front of the armchair, handing it back to Aemond with hands over her eyes. “Are you saying that I shouldn’t have run and let them have their way with me?” Anger, panic, fear and disbelief brewing deep in her stomach
“Seven Hells, no. That is not what I am implying,” Aemond expresses. “I am elated that you managed to defend yourself and run. But if your reason for fleeing was because you harbor any fear that it will happen again, I can assure you it will not.”
She stilled for a moment, the hair follicles at the back of her head rose when she felt Aemond’s presence so close behind her. “As long as you are here, you’re under my protection. I will never let anyone or anything harm you. I promise you this.”
The very gruesome image of Aemond beheading the guard that assaulted her, deemed his promise held true.
Nevertheless, she was taken aback by the comment and the surface of her face felt warm. “Um thanks,” she nervously chuckled. It was the only thing she could say at such earnest promise.
“You can turn around now, if you wish.”
And she did. He looked well put together, dressed in all black from head to toe. The dark shade truly suited Aemond, giving him the illusion of a gothic prince.
In such proximity, she could smell something amidst smoke, fire, and ash emitting from his clothes.
Possibly from his dragon, Vhagar.
Vhagar.
Being the bookworm that she was, she wondered what the oldest and largest she-dragon looked like. Or where she was currently nesting at.
However, her nerdishness had to be set aside.
For now, atleast.
“Are you famished, my lady? The servants are to bring us dinner shortly, but if you’re hungry now I could ask them to speed it along.” Aemond asked across the room, his hand on the handle of the door.
She was about to refuse his polite offer, unfortunately for her the mention of dinner provoked her stomach to growl so loud that even Aemond heard it.
Damned traitor.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Aemond said, his lips curling into a witty grin. She held up her hand in a way to prevent him from arranging dinner, she didn’t have time for. “That won’t be necessary–”
“The ferocious noise inside your belly says otherwise,” he quips as he instructs a nearby servant for some food. “I am starved from killing Strongs all morning and afternoon. I crave something more fulfilling besides shellfish and mediocre soups.”
It was all Aemond ate at the capital after the Pretender ordered the blockade. At first, the small council had spent a remarkable amount on enough meat, poultry, grains, fruits, and vegetables for his family and guests. Subsequently, in a moon or so everything had run out. Fish, oysters, shrimp, and different kinds of soups were served.
Aemond did not mind, in the beginning, but after a while his appetite longed for his regular and satiated meals. He nearly took one of Vhagar’s goats for himself. Aemond knew he couldn’t as Vhagar needed her strength for upcoming battles and decided to let that foolish idea go.
A few minutes went by when an array of servants arrived inside the room, carrying hot plates of food. She recognized two of the servants. Both of whom helped her bathe and dress earlier.
One, she noticed, struggled to keep a ceramic bowl steady. Instantly, she took the bowl from her trembling hands. “The bowl is very hot, my lady. You must be careful!” The old woman warned as she tried to pry the plate off her hands.
Although she was touched by her worriment, she couldn’t help but to chuckle. “It’s alright. I’ve been accustomed to touching hotter things, and this is not nearly as hot as you think.” At a young age, she more than often would help her mama make homemade tortillas de harina and would flip them by hand in the comal while scorching hot. On the weekend’s she’d help out at her uncle Belen’s restaurant. Often serving customers hot plates of food straight from the stove. (flour tortillas, griddle)
So heat never really bothered her.
She placed the large bowl in the center of the table, adjacent to the other plates and pitchers. Then she proceeded to help the servants set the table.
All while doing so she couldn’t help but feel Aemond’s eye on her the entire time as she moved. He stood silent near one of the windows, patiently waiting until everyone that wasn’t her, to leave.
“Will that be all, my prince?” A kitchen servant asked, her eyes struggling to keep eye contact. Aemond waved the woman away, disinterestedly. Something about that irked her to her core, and it reminded her of the countless entitled customers who treated servers beneath them.
“Thank you,” she smiled at the servants before they took their leave. They returned the smile and she couldn’t help but to think if they’ve ever been thanked before and she was content that she did.
“Shall we dine?” Aemond gestured to the overly-filled table.
She nodded, her stomach doing flips for food. Before she had the chance to pull out a chair, Aemond beat her straight to it with a smug smile carved into his lips.
“In truth, I’m glad that you came now. I was to summon you for another hour while you had your rest but to my surprise the maester informed me that you refused treatment.” Aemond spoke from behind.
She sucked in a breath, shoulders tensing as the tips of Aemond’s fingers softly grazed around the exposed skin behind her neck. A spot where she felt insecure and anxious from anyone viewing.
Even the two older women, who bathed her, halted their scrubbing when they came across the two deep vertical scars on each of her shoulder blades. A part of her was relieved that they did not say anything and continued their scrubbing, but the overthinker in her worried if they were secretly judging behind her back.
Aemond pressed his lips together tightly, replacing a frown as she wiggled herself away from his touch.
“Stitches are required for deep or gaping wounds, and surgical incisions. I did not necessitate it since this is a superficial cut. It will heal in a day or two if I clean it properly to prevent infection. Nywen agreed as well as I did and supplied me with a topical antibiotic.”
She watched as Aemond slid into a seat directly across from her, digesting in her words.
“Nywen?” Aemond arched his brow.
“The maester.”
Aemond hummed, content by her answer. “You speak as if you’re a maester yourself.”
“I’m a nurse,” She shared proudly, though ignoring the fact she has not taken her NCLEX yet. Meaning she was not actually licensed.
Aemond appeared to be taken back by her response and redirected his eye to her very glorious and plump pair of breasts.
Would she allow him the pleasure to drink from her chest as well?
The one eyed prince could only wish.
Aemond could practically hear his one and only loudly moan and cry for him as he drank every last drop from her breasts, providing her with not only relief but also pleasure.
The thought alone made his cock stir underneath his breeches.
“Not a wet nurse!” She exclaimed, as she crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to cover her boobs.
That, however, proved to be fruitless as the action alone caused her boobs to thrust upwards, revealing more for his eye to see. The violet in Aemond’s lone eye darkened and she swore she almost heard him… moan.
“Forgive me, my lady. I didn't mean to cause offense,” Aemond softened his voice as he discreetly adjusted his hardness beneath the dining table, stifling a hiss at the throbbing sensation.
“I never met a woman who practices conventional medical treatment; especially a young woman. Just old men. But seeing as to the maester being gone–”
Hearing that caused her head to snap up. “–Gone?”
“Yes, he left shortly after he was done treating you. I bid his freedom in exchange for his services and you were his last patient.” Aemond briefly told as he grabbed a slice of some type of roasted meat onto his plate.
“Well, that’s good to hear. At least he is free to see his family now,” she exhaled a breath she didn’t know she held.
Aemond hummed in agreement, choosing to spare the grisly details of him beheading the maester for treason against the crown.
In a way, the maester did get to finally visit his family, along with his liege.
“With him gone, perhaps you’d want to take his place?” Aemond offered coolly.
It wasn’t like she would stay here long enough to help heal his people. She had a deadline to meet and follow, and the One Eyed Prince sure as hell wasn’t going to get in her way. So she chose to give him a little inconsequential lie.
“Perhaps,” she shrugged as she began to assess the food upon the table.
And boy, were there many to choose from. There was a variety of cooked meats, sauteed vegetables, hot stews, breads, cheeses, and fruits.
It reminded her of an all-you-could-eat buffet.
She ended up selecting the same type of roasted meat as Aemond, paired with a small slice of bread and a goblet half full of a golden liquid she believed was some sort of juice.
By the way he was staring at her, she almost wanted to tell Aemond to take a picture to make it last longer but saying such a thing would be indecipherable to Aemond.
Rather it was better to say “paint a portrait.”
Now, however, was not the time to be comical.
Aemond began shifting to a new topic of conversation when she took the first bite of what he said was ‘roasted duck’. Instantly, she scrunched her face at the off- putting taste.
She always preferred her meat to be cooked well done and generously seasoned with garlic, salt, pepper, with a hint of rosemary and chili peppers for spice.
Though this meat itself felt uncooked in the center, bland and not seasoned correctly.
But what else could she expect from Westeros?
Aemond watched from where he sat, disheartened by her dischuffed reaction, “Is the duck not to your liking?”
No. She wanted to reply but she had a feeling that if she denied him, Aemond would try to convince her to take another dish.
“It’s good, thank you.” She lied after she forcefully swallowed the meat, smiling as she reached for her goblet to wash down the horrible aftertaste that lingered in her mouth.
Aemond was not in the slightest convinced that it was or the wine judging from her disapproving reaction. “Here, have some Dornish red. It is what I’m drinking, much better than the shit from Lannisport you drank.”
With hesitance, she took the cup. His fingers brushed with her own with a gentle caress that shocked her and almost pulled away from, if not for the goblet being nearly full.
She examined the dark red wine carefully before sampling it. There was a sweetness blended with some sourness that had her wondering if she had it before. It wasn’t a bad taste but it was definitely strong.
“Better?” Aemond queried, sitting straighter.
“Well you’re definitely right about the other one tasting like shit.” She laughed as she drank more Dornish red.
She's had some questionable alcohol before, but Lannisport wine definitely takes the cake. It was like drinking straight raw honey and cinnamon.
Aemond joined in with her laughter. “Dornish red can be quite strong and can surely get a person drunk if they have not eaten. Mayhaps I can have the cooks prepare something you prefer eating. What would you like?”
There were many foods she craved right now.
Back home, her abuela was preparing the masa for the tamales that took hours to make just for the entire family. (dough)
Her cousins Sara and Valeria, planned to bring a very spicy pozole and mole from their side of the family.
Tio Belen and tia Alicia were bringing their infamous chocoflan and caramel empanadas for dessert.
Those meals alone were what she wanted more than anything.
Sadly, there were zero chances that Westeros had any of that.
Especially during a war.
“I’m alright, thank you. I’ll stick to eating this, it’s not so bad now with the wine,” she reassured. Last thing she wanted was to waste food. Something she despised.
Her answer, however, wasn’t what Aemond hoped for but he settled on it for now.
“I do, myself, wish to know how exactly a lady such as yourself came to be wandering about in the woods, dressed in nothing but her shift.” Aemond implored, tilting his head to the side.
Uh oh.
“The remaining guards confessed that you were wearing your shift when they found you. Prompting them to believe you were some mislead whore. It still doesn’t justify their actions against you and for that I sincerely apologize. But, I’d like to hear your side of the tale if you do not mind.”
It all had been some unusual mystery, how she— the woman he had been expecting for ten years— came running onto his arms out of the blue.
Your life awaits
Was all Helaena said before he left to take back Harrenhal.
The pounding of her heart increased tenfold. She knew she had to stick to the truth as much as humanly possible, only altering the details that had to be kept secret.
She wouldn’t deny a part of her wondered if there was even a chance of coming clean to Aemond.
Without proof, maybe he’d think she was ludicrous.
If someone from Westeros came to the modern world, and extemporaneously said they’d been transported from a fictional universe, she without a doubt thought they were on some sort of crack.
She clears her throat, blinking rapidly in search of the right words to say. “Earlier I was sent to pick out some flowers for my family. Along the way, a woman came across my path and robbed me of not only my gown and shoes but my belongings as well. I tried chasing after her but after several minutes my feet became tired and I was lost around the woods with nothing to go by.”
“Your guards found me moments later. They insinuated that I was a whore, and I tried to tell them I wasn’t. That’s when things got violent and I was only trying to defend myself.” She explained transparently.
Aemond redirected his gaze towards the cut on her lower lip, then to her hand noticing some bruising. He recalled how the first guard had a stain of dried blood on his nose right before he killed him.
“Again, I must say how truly sorry I am for the dishonorable actions of my men. And I applaud you for your braveness, my lady.” Aemond said as he raised his goblet before taking a sip.
“Oh, this?” She asked, gesturing to the hand that was bruised. “This is nothing.”
Aemond let out a chortle. “It’s not nothing. You certainly broke his nose and damaged his foot by the looks of it. Who taught you to hit like that?”
“My uncle, Aimon.” She answers. Though unsure if she should reveal details about her family. “Most of us, my cousins and I, are girls. He said it was important that we, as women, learn how to be self resilient and defend ourselves. He taught us with a practice dummy, at first. Then with some padded gloves. ”
Aemond raised his brows, shocked by the notion that a man would allow their nieces to physically fight. His own father never bothered to teach his sister how to train in combat, not that Helaena would’ve wanted to or his mother allowed it. The Dowager Queen detested violence.
It was only ever him that learned to train in combat.
Not by his father, too sickly and yet too worried about Rhaenyra. Only Ser Criston Cole who shared the passion of the sword with him.
“Your uncle seems progressive,” Aemond stated, watching as a sad smile set on her face. “Yea he is.” The reminder of Aimon made her reflect on how much she missed her family right now.
Especially since Aimon was coming home for Dia De Los Muertos, after being stationed in Mexico City for ten years. Alicia and her were the only ones that knew of Aimon’s surprise visit to abuela Selena.
Though, perhaps now the only surprise her abuela was going to get was her disappearance.
“Have I said something to upset you?” Aemond questioned.
Her attention went back to the one eyed prince, who looked at her with concern. “No, no you haven’t. I just… nevermind.” She shook her head as she fiddled with the edges of her goblet.
Aemond leaned forward in his seat, desperately wanting to know what she had to say. “What is it? You can tell me—”
Just as his hand was about to reach hers, a knock interrupted them both. “Prince Aemond, the dessert you requested is almost done. Shall I have it straight delivered to your chambers?” A kitchen maid inquired from the other end of the door.
Aemond made a sound of complete annoyance, causing her to give him a major side eye. “Yes, do so.”
His reply caused her to be taken aback. Did that mean she had to stay longer with him?
She hoped not as there wasn’t enough time for dessert or any of his pleasantries. No matter how hard Aemond procures her to stay. There was a deadline she had to follow and a family and home to go back to.
She knew that by now, her family already contacted the authorities; the police and even the fucking FBI. They’d even call the SWAT team if it were possible.
Maybe she was being a bit too… dramatic. But was she?
There wasn’t anything her family wouldn’t do for her, including searching all of Mexico just to get her back.
Sadly, she was nowhere near Mexico.
Rather she was stuck in a world that up until hours ago, was purely fictional. A work of fiction that she received as a gift.
Her first mistake of coming into this strange world was not thoroughly checking the cottage properly. Perhaps there, she could find some clues and answers that could help identify where this sapphire might be.
So, now was as good a time as any to leave. More hours later and she’d permanently risk staying here forever, just as Alyssandra warned.
As much as she wanted to explore and live through every bit of Westeros, she already missed her home, her family, the food, internet, and comfortable clothes that weren’t medieval dresses.
“Would you care for some more Dornish red as we wait for dessert to be served?” Aemond eventually asked, breaking her out of her stupor.
Go.
“Actually, I can’t,” she nervously chuckled as she stacked her plates and swept leftover crumbs with a napkin. Even universes away she still had the decency to pick up after herself.
Aemond felt his heart drop.
“It’s getting late and I must go. I’ve been gone for hours and my family is probably wondering where I am.” It was not entirely a lie. Her one way ticket out of here was to play her cards right by telling the truth.
“But the dessert—” The one eyed prince tried to explain but was interrupted.
“— can wait or I’ll take it on a to-go box. Do you guys have one of those here?” She knew not but it was worth a try.
Aemond gave her a look of utmost bewilderment. “A what?” A box for a piece of dessert?
She waved him off before she stood up, “it doesn’t matter. Thank you for letting me stay and for everything else you’ve done. I’m grateful, really. But I seriously have to go.”
Aemond found himself standing as well and before either of them knew it, Aemond spun her around so that her back was pressed on rough stone and his chest just inches away from her glorious plump breasts.
“You can’t leave,” Aemond said with a loud growl.
She swallowed, her eyes widening in total disbelief. “What?” In a frail voice she asked.
Aemond had to be gentle with his next choice of words. Last thing he wanted was to scare her off, like how he currently was doing so.
The prince softened the darkness in his eye. “Well,” he sighed, “you’ve said so yourself, it is getting late and I don’t think it is wise for a lady to wander by herself in the woods again. Especially at night and with a mugger on the loose.”
“I’ve caused you enough trouble as it is if I stay.” She stated, distancing herself away from Aemond.
Though the one eyed prince was quick to act as his hand barricaded her point of exit. “You caused me no trouble, I swear this to you. Please stay a little while longer. I’ll send a raven to your family that you reside here with me.” Aemond begged, feigning a demeanor of woefulness.
Although she did slightly feel bad, the deep voice in her head told her to stick to her guts; which was leaving.
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head as she was quick to duck underneath Aemond’s arm towards the door. She felt the light graze of Aemond’s hand reaching for her but she pulled away before he could touch her, causing him to frown.
Aemond yearned to have more time with her; to know every single part of her that made her so intriguing to him. She had haunted his dreams every night for far too long to let her go now. Considering how he had not yet voiced his affections to her. Aemond presumed, now was not the right time to declare his devotion. Time is what he needed.
“Alys, wait!” Aemond called out.
And she was sure as hell did wait.
A/N: sooooo I haven't updated this story for 8 months and for that I'm sorry guys 😩
but for those who are wondering: I live in an abusive household. so that should say enough.
and yes I am trying to get out, but I am currently unemployed.
the next chapter won't take 8 months I promise, but I am writing some smutty one shots for valentines day so I won't update this story until march!
also, if anyone can guess who Vidalio is, I will post a sneak peek of chapter 4!
#prince aemond#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd aemond#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#dark aemond x reader#alternate universe#modern reader
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Of Convenience – Epilogue (Part 11.2)
(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")
Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 11th snippet / epilogue, part 2. Adar and Celebrimbor consummate their marriage, aka, make love to one another.
Here be smut! This is at least M rated people. Please mind the rating!
This is it, the Good Stuff(TM)! Again, this is smut, but there is also a lot of fluff and sappiness mixed in here. It's also the final bit for the 'main story' of this AU – though, who knows, maybe I’ll pick it up again for some interludes or some glimpses into everyday married life for those two in the future, though likely at a much slower pace than this one. Thank you, again, to everyone who has joined me on this journey. I appreciate all of you and your support means the world to me. (And also, hopefully, I’ll see you guys in the notes for any future fics of those two I might write. Because I still have a couple ideas and WIPs to work on.) Enjoy, and once again, Thank You! <3 <3 <3
Once they had separated again, Adar appeared much more confident. He used only his right hand as he reached down, grabbed the hem of his tunic, and then began to pull it over his head.
As his long hair began to tangle in the garment, Celebrimbor reached forward and helped him out of it. Like his own tunic and Adar’s armor, they let it drop to the ground, forgotten.
The uruk’s chest was littered with scars as well; burn marks and the remains of old wounds that the elf could not identify. Perhaps, Adar would be willing to tell him about each of them one day.
"You are beautiful," escaped the smith without his permission, but he couldn’t regret the words. Even as Adar stared incredulously at him. "I mean it. I look at you and see beauty."
Celebrimbor wanted to make himself clear. "Maybe not in the typical elven way, but I can see you have survived great strain and terrible hardship. I do not mind the scars. They are a part of you, and I love you."
He knew he was being awfully emotional about all this, but- he had to speak these words. He didn’t want to leave any doubt about what he felt for the other, or how he saw him.
The uruk closed his arms around the elf and brought the two of them together in another embrace. He kissed Celebrimbor’s temple, his cheek, his jaw, and then whispered against his lips. "It has been a very long time since I have been called ‘beautiful‘. And even longer, still, since I believed it. But I believe you."
A pause, a breath. "How have I gotten so lucky? The most decent, the most kindhearted of all elves, and I get to call you my own. You, the one who was willing to see me and my children as more than just Morgoth’s creations."
"You are more than Morgoth’s creation," Celebrimbor said with conviction. "And if you have gotten lucky, so have I."
He dared Adar to disagree with his words by frowning just the slightest bit, until the uruk laughed and pulled him close again. They kissed once more. As Adar let his hands roam, so did Celebrimbor.
Adar’s body certainly was not like an elf’s, but this was not a detriment in the smith’s opinion. He enjoyed letting his hands move over the scars, felt shapes beneath his fingertips whose textures felt new and unique and exciting to him.
Likewise, his husband seemed unable to let his own hands rest either; they moved over the expanse of Celebrimbor’s back and between his shoulder blades, to his arms, up to his neck and then down to his pecs, which the uruk squeezed. The elf gasped into their kiss as a result, and when Adar made to draw back, he caught the uruk's fingers to press them onto his chest again and moaned into the other’s mouth at the resulting pressure.
They soon shed the rest of their clothing, stepping out of their shoes and boots as well as their breeches. Adar’s mouth wandered from Celebrimbor’s mouth to his jaw, his ear, and then his neck.
He was soft with his kisses, mindful of the bruising, until the elf drew his head closer with his hand and groaned as the other sucked his own bruise into the hollow of his throat.
Celebrimbor didn’t care in the least whether or not someone else would see it, come morning.
Moving against one another sent sparks through the elf’s body now that they were completely bare, and he felt heat rise up his body when he felt how aroused Adar was already.
The uruk grabbed his behind and drew them against each other fully. Both groaned at the contact.
"Celebrimbor-" Adar began. He already sounded breathless.
"Tyelpe," the smith replied, quickly, before Adar could finish his sentence. At the other’s questioning look, Celebrimbor drew him forward and kissed him, before he repeated. "Call me Tyelpe. It’s short for-"
"Telperinquar," Adar finished. He sounded reverent as he said it. Celebrimbor felt himself shiver at the sound of his name on Adar’s tongue. He nodded to confirm it.
"...Tyelpe," Adar repeated the name as if tasting it. In turn, Celebrimbor moved forward as if to lick it out of his mouth. The kiss left them both breathless and flushed.
"...let us move over to your bed," the uruk suggested, quietly, and the elf let himself be walked over without hesitation. Instead, he tried to catch Adar’s lips again. It was like he had gotten addicted to them – their warmth, their softness, the pressure. He couldn’t stop seeking them out.
The uruk was careful as he helped his husband lay down and then moved on top of him. He caught Celebrimbor’s eye as he kept himself suspended above the elf, and only laid down when Celebrimbor stretched out his arms and beckoned him to do so.
Soon, they were moving against one other, rubbing skin against skin as they kissed, hands restless on each other’s bodies.
"What do you want to do?" Adar asked, once they managed to break their kiss for a moment. A fine strand of spit hung between their mouths and neither of them was willing to move far away from the other.
"Whatever you want to do," Celebrimbor replied. To make himself perfectly clear, he untangled his legs from Adar’s and loosely wrapped them around the uruk’s hips, who groaned deeply and thrust down against the elf in response. "If you’d let me, I’d want all of you."
His hips moved up into Adar’s thrusts all of their own. Both of them moaned at the feeling of them sliding against one another.
They could barely control themselves, and Adar eventually had to use his hand to grab Celebrimbor’s hip and pin it to the bed – though gently – so they would not finish too soon.
"Do you have any oil?" He sounded hopeful, even if he looked a bit skeptical.
His expression changed to one of surprise when Celebrimbor reached across and over the side of the bed, only to produce a small bottle, which he pressed into Adar’s hand. The smith felt rather proud of himself in that moment.
The uruk raised his eyebrows. "Do you always happen to have some spare oil nearby, or…" He suddenly narrowed his eyes, though it was clearly playful. "Did you hope this would happen?"
The elf grew just the slightest bit sheepish and fluttered his eyelashes at the uruk. "What can I say? If the the last two days have taught me anything, it is to always be prepared – and not let anything go to waste by holding back."
Adar looked at Celebrimbor with wide eyes for a moment, and then he smirked and shook his head, before he gave his husband another peck on the lips. "My dear, you are full of surprises. I hadn’t expected that you’d be quite so bold in this."
A pause. "I think I like it."
The uruk was careful as he prepared his husband; he took the time to warm the oil, helped Celebrimbor place a pillow underneath his hips and placed one of the smith’s legs over his shoulder. Before he touched the elf, he kissed the side of his knee and leant over him to have a good look at his face.
"Are you still certain?"
The smith smiled brightly at the question, and nodded. "Yes," he took a shuddering breath. "A bit nervous though, I’ll admit. I haven’t done this in a long time."
The uruk leant down to press his lips to Celebrimbor’s forehead, then kissed him deeply. "Me neither. I promise I’ll go slow."
The elf nodded, and held onto the side of the uruk’s face and his upper arm. "I know."
And indeed, Adar took his time. Not only did he stretch his husband, but he also stroked him as he knelt before the elf, twin sensations that kept Celebrimbor relaxed and in a state of near perpetual pleasure.
The elf languished in his position and how it allowed him to watch his husband while the other worked. There was a look of concentration on Adar’s face while he alternated between focusing on his tasks and Celebrimbor’s face, as if to make sure the other was truly enjoying this.
Celebrimbor smiled and made no attempt to hide his reactions; he looked at Adar with hooded eyelids and his mouth half-open, spilling sighs and gasps whenever the other touched him in a particularly pleasant way.
He could tell the uruk was slowly but surely becoming more impatient, though he was good at hiding it. He hadn’t once touched himself, so Celebrimbor stretched out a hand and tried to motion the other to come closer, "Let me do something for you, too."
Adar smiled gently, and used one hand to stroke the space between Celebrimbor’s leg and his lower stomach for a bit. "You don’t have to do anything but lie back. I’ll take care of you tonight."
"Next time, then," the elf insisted cheekily, and then moaned and arched his back when Adar found that sensitive spot inside him.
Whether Celebrimbor’s reaction had been the final straw to entice his husband, or whether he simply deemed him ready, the elf would never know, but Adar soon finished his preparations and began to arrange the elf’s body to his liking.
Legs wrapped high around Adar’s upper body, ankles crossed at the back, the elf let his lower body be hoisted up by an arm around his hip while Adar reached down to line himself up to Celebrimbor’s entrance.
The elf cupped his husband’s cheeks once more, stroking gentle fingers along the scars there. Their faces were so very close. Adar’s eyes were almost black with how dilated his pupils were by that point. He was a sight to behold, with sweat beading on his forehead and strands of his hair stuck to his skin.
And yet, his expression remained so gentle, so attentive.
"May I?" the uruk asked. Celebrimbor nodded, not quite sure if he’d be able to manage any words.
They both sighed and pressed close when Adar began to sink into Celebrimbor’s body. This was not just warmth, but heat that spread through him now.
There was no pain, only a stretch that felt wonderfully intimate, and Adar who seemed to fight his own pleasure to keep his eyes on Celebrimbor, to make sure he was alright.
Trembling with how good he felt, the smith let himself spill whatever words came to him. "You feel wonderful," he said. It was true. "You’re being so gentle with me, so careful, nobody has touched me with such reverence."
"I wish you could see yourself right now. I could look upon you all day. Want to-" his breath hitched and he moaned once more as Adar finally sank in to the hilt and crowded close, rubbing their noses against each other as the uruk tried to catch his breath. "Want to sketch you like this, so you can see how radiant you are-"
With a loud groan, the uruk brought their lips together. The kiss was deeper, more urgent now, it almost felt as if he wanted to drink Celebrimbor down. He wrapped his hands around the elf’s shoulders and behind is head.
They both were breathless when they broke apart.
"Can I-?"
"Yes, please, move-" Adar laughed, very softly, at Celebrimbor’s eagerness, and pecked his lips before he began to follow his husband’s request.
The friction felt downright otherworldly, and the pleasure was only heightened because the elf got to experience his husband’s as well. They moved with each other and quickly found a rhythm that worked for them as they slowly built up the pace.
Still, Adar seemed to hold back. "I’m alright, I feel good- you can let go. I want you to. Please," the elf coaxed the other. It was clear the uruk was enjoying this, with the way every other breath turned into a deep groan and how he couldn’t quite keep his eyes open.
Adar needed a moment to find his words, and moaned when he found a good angle on his next thrust before he answered. "I’m- quite strong-"
"I know," Celebrimbor remembered Adar’s battle prowess. He curled himself up and brought their foreheads together as he clenched down onto the uruk. "I want to feel it. I don’t care about bruising – you won’t hurt me. I know you won’t. I trust you."
This time, it didn’t take long to convince the other, and the smith soon held onto Adar with all his limbs and pressed his face into his neck as his voice rose in pleasure.
Adar hadn’t lied when he said he was strong; the way he snapped his hips down now was intense, but good. He managed to hit every single sensitive spot Celebrimbor had and still, nothing he did hurt, there was only pressure, and bliss.
"It’s good, it’s so good-" the elf reassured the other, encouraged him. "Please, don’t stop-"
They both were reaching for their completion now, desperate in how they scrambled against one another. Celebrimbor smeared spit onto Adar’s cheek as he attempted to speak, could feel the groans – no, growls – the uruk let out against the junction of his neck and shoulder, the way he mouthed at the skin.
"I’m close-" Adar warned through clenched teeth, before he brought his and Celebrimbor’s eyes into alignment again, both their hands around one another’s shoulders and on their cheeks now. "You feel so good, I’m so close-"
"I am too," Celebrimbor replied, breathless, eager, near overcome. "Please, you can-"
"Come for me," Adar asked him instead, and the elf was powerless to do anything but comply with a long moan of Adar’s name. Judging by the way Adar thrust down with all his strength and then shouted, loudly, he was quick to follow.
They were both shaking as pleasure washed over them, their hands slipped on sweat-covered skin, but then renewed their grip and held onto one another.
Celebrimbor couldn’t speak for himself, but Adar was quite the sight. His face was completely open now, and there was no strain, only the euphoria of release and underneath, the love he held for his husband, clear as day.
What a gift, the elf thought, that he got to see the other so unguarded and so content. Would get to see him like this, again and again.
The two husbands collapsed onto the bed in the aftermath. Adar was pressing Celebrimbor into the bed with his own weight, whereas the elf cushioned the uruk’s body with his own. Their grip on one another loosened as they caught their breath, but they did not fully let each other go.
Celebrimbor continued to rest his legs over his husband’s back and stroked fingers up and down between his shoulder blades. When Adar shivered and grew restless at the light touches, the elf moved his fingers into Adar’s hair instead, slowly carding through the soft strands and scratching his scalp.
Adar, too, seemed unwilling to move. His head was tucked under Celebrimbor’s chin where his breath fanned out over the elf’s collarbones. His right hand stroked a thumb up and down Celebrimbor’s hip, whereas his left one – the one usually in his gauntlet – sought of Celebrimbor’s free hand and linked their fingers together.
It was the elf who brought their hands to his lips for another kiss. Adar sighed in response, and rubbed in nose into Celebrimbor’s skin when the elf kissed the top of his head next.
They should probably move and get cleaned up, sooner or later, but for now, Celebrimbor just wanted to enjoy this moment.
He smiled, happy and exhausted, when Adar lifted his head. The uruk, too, looked like he’d soon fall asleep. Which was probably a good thing – both of them still needed to recover from the previous weeks.
As Celebrimbor stroked the back of his hand across Adar’s cheek, the other smiled back at him.
"I love you, Tyelpe," he said. Celebrimbor hadn’t ever seen him look more at ease, more happy, than in this moment.
His own resulting smile felt so wide the elf wasn’t sure how it could still fit his own face.
"I love you too, Adar. My husband."
The uruk reached over and brought their lips together once again. "Indeed. My husband."
#writing this last part was such a treat after the buildup of the fic. just really self indulgent but those two dorks deserve it.#I also felt a lil melancholic. knowing that this is (for now?) the final part of this fanfic.#I wrote this at such a breakneck speed that for about 3 weeks it filled almost all my free time so finishing it is weird. To say the least.#(for reference: the total wordcount is at about 40-45k words. all of which were written in 2.5 weeks.)#they are so SO soft. i loved writing this story and esp tender moments like these ones. it really is a fix-it fic in so many ways.#lemme know if you lovely ppl would be interested in seeing more of those two (and what) - can't promise anything as of yet but who knows...#of convenience#adar#adar trop#adar the rings of power#celebrimbor#adar x celebrimbor#silverscars#trop#the rings of power#fanfic#my fanfic#my trop fanfic#mine#political marriage trope#marriage of convenience trope#smut#tw smut#cw smut
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electric touch (part 2)
Pairing: Bucky x medical team! reader
Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until you’re faced with someone who doesn’t want to see you win.
Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)
Wordcount: 8.5k
Part 1
Notes: WELP, sorry for the delay on this one. I've never rewritten so many scenes before (I have about 2k worth of trash from this part). thank you so much for your patience and for reading and reblogging part 1. hope you enjoy!!! <3
--
You didn’t anticipate the first-time seeing Bucky’s apartment would be like this: after two hours spent at a private clinic in Midtown, getting an x-ray then a consultation with a Dr. Alvarez, followed by the application of a cast. Then there was a visit from Tony Stark himself, alongside Pepper Potts, who carried a great amount of apologies and offered support for whatever the next steps ended up being.
Not once did you think you would be sneaking into the Tower through a back elevator, arm resting in a sling, shuffling your feet quietly beside Bucky as you ventured to his apartment, and feeling somehow both on edge and utterly exhausted throughout the whole process. And Bucky checked in with you every step of the way – sometimes with just a cursory glance. He managed to say so much without saying anything at all, and you really appreciated that.
God, he was so careful with you. Gentle, even. Gentle wasn’t the first word you would use to describe Bucky. Not that he was rough or reckless or brutish or whatever the opposite of gentle was. When it came to you, he was always kind and quiet and attentive.
But the way he spoke to you, how he had apologized after every bump and pothole as the ground shook his car, how he held his hand at your back as he guided you to his door - it was unexpected and gentle and exactly what kept you from spiraling.
Despite all that, you wanted to visit his apartment for the first time excited, with butterflies in your stomach. Why did it have to be like this?
When you got to his door, there was a Stark Industries bag hanging off the handle. Bucky paused, then nodded with a hum before scanning his access card to open the door.
The living spaces at the Tower were pretty basic, and you knew Bucky wasn’t intending on staying there forever, but he somehow managed to make it feel like his home nonetheless.
A basic kitchen was immediately on your left as you walked in, open directly into the living room - which had a big, comfortable couch covered in a few pillows and blankets. You carefully fell into it, eyes closed. The impact made you wince but you decided it was worth it, given how you sank into the cushions.
“So, what do you want to eat?” Bucky had stopped in the kitchen area, grabbing what looked like a stack of menus from the top of the fridge.
You just shrugged, glancing over at him briefly before closing your eyes. “I’m not really hungry.”
Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could sense the frown on his face.
He sighed out your name. “Didn’t we just learn a lesson about taking those intense pain meds on an empty stomach?” He paused. “Actually, you think about it, I’m going to change...”
You squeezed your eyes even harder, trying to scrub away that recent memory.
The doctor had been fitting the temporary cast on your hand and wrist just as whatever remaining particles of pain medication seemed to disappear from your bloodstream. That had been enough to make you feel nauseated but then when a nurse came to share some stronger meds with you, Bucky was quick to grab the nearest trash can when they immediately made you throw up.
Most of it made it into the can, at least.
Now he was probably going to change out of his shirt that had been hit with the rest.
In the few moments of quiet while Bucky was in his bedroom, everything about the last few days hit you all at once.
Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. The way he yelled, screamed. Why hadn’t you left?
Your couch. The growing pain. The purple and yellow and blue bruises. Why didn’t you just walk away?
Bucky.
Bucky at your door, with soup. Bucky with his tender touch. Your hand.
Pepper Potts, her kindness.
The doctor.
The doctor said something about surgery after seeing your x-ray. Metacarpal break in your hand, down from the ring finger, and a hairline fracture down your wrist.
Pepper had been so kind but what was it she said about a police report? About filing a report with HR? What had she said about taking a break from work?
Bucky, Bucky had been so patient. He hadn’t left your side. But–
How would you ever write again? Could you hold a pen? Would you be able to do your job? Now you wouldn’t have your new role and you’d be shit at your current job, too. How could a nurse function without typing notes or holding a stethoscope or –
Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. Bucky. Boone. Bucky. Your hand and this cast and this goddamn sling.
In your slurry of thoughts, you hadn’t even realized the tight feeling growing in your chest. Instinctually, you tried to place a hand over your heart and – pain, your wrist. Heaving in deep breaths, it felt as if your lungs couldn’t handle functioning properly.
And your skin - everything felt too hot. You shuffled forward on the couch until you were closer to the floor, dropping to your knees as you tore at your sweatshirt with one hand. It was only halfway zipped up, barely draped over your shoulders, and just so so so hot - were you dripping with sweat?
Could Bucky hear as you called out for him? God, what if he just changed his mind - you were a mess, this wasn’t the person he knew and definitely wasn’t the person he asked out.
How could he be proud of you now?
You tore off your glasses as tears started to fall.
Your name, someone was saying your name.
Were you under water? It felt like you were under water. Your skin - hot. Your hand, your wrist – pain.
Boone.
You collapsed further, bracing yourself on the rug with your free hand. It was strangely soft under your palm. Bucky’s apartment had a soft rug.
Bucky. Bucky was saying your name.
“Hey, hey. You’re okay.”
He sounded close, so close. You blinked through your tears and saw he had dropped down beside you on the floor.
“Sweetheart, can I - can I touch you? Is that okay?”
You nodded, peeking your head up to look at him. Everything was blurry.
Slowly, he reached out and pressed one hand against your chest, firm. The other was running up and down your back. You listened to him carefully as he talked you through whatever this episode was, breathing in tandem as he applied just enough pressure to your chest and shoulders to really ground you beside him.
He spoke your name, trying to keep your attention. “Talk to me, please.”
“Bucky - I..” You closed your eyes, sparing a moment to breathe at his pace. His hand pressed against your chest didn’t let up but he helped you lean back against the couch. “I’m scared.. Boone, he.. What if.. My hand..”
“I promise you’re never going to see him again.”
“No, no. I’m not..” Another deep breath. Your heart rate seemed to steady. “I’m not scared of seeing him. I want to.. I want to break his jaw or.. I wasn’t strong enough to even try..” You lifted your arm, tight in the cast and sling. “I won’t even be able to do that. He – I fucked up my hand and I - how can I even do my job or write anything or hold anything or even text? And I - I’ve never had surgery before and I’m - I’m scared something will go wrong and I won’t get to join the med team and I - How can I..” You could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate. “He kept yelling at me to fight back.. Fight back and-and prove myself! I should have – I should have just walked away, I should have–”
You couldn’t quite remember how the shift happened - but you were soon back on the couch, gently turned towards Bucky as he wrapped his arm around you. Time seemed to disappear as you cried into the crook of his shoulder.
Maybe it wasn’t the most comfortable position as your hand pulsed in pain, but the close feeling, the touch of Bucky, the heat radiating from him - the combination soothed you.
Bucky seemed to sense the exact moment your heart rate returned back to normal, as he very gently nudged you away just enough to peer down at you. He reached for your glasses and secured them back to where they belonged then offered you a soft smile.
“I don’t want to, uh, invalidate your feelings,” Bucky started then quickly paused. “Christ, I sound like Steve.”
That made you laugh.
“But you’ve gotta know that the doctor who's going to fix your hand will do a damn good job and while maybe you’ll have to take some time off work, you’ll be able to adapt until you fully heal. I promise.” He shifted and grabbed your available hand. “And surgery can be scary but I’ll be there the whole time and wait for you after, okay?”
“You’ll do that?”
Bucky seemed to falter after another moment. “Only if you want me, I don’t want to assume–”
“No, no. I do. I just..” You let out a slow breath. “I.. I’m really grateful to be right here, with you. I’m glad you didn’t leave my apartment earlier, even when I was pushing you out.”
Now he had a chance to laugh. “Yeah, I think we both know I wasn’t going anywhere, sweetheart. Now, you need to eat something. Any requests?”
Half an hour later Bucky was unpacking a delivery bag and handing you a meal and a dose of medication that you had brought home from the clinic. Admittedly, the warm food helped settle you even more and you had a feeling that you’d fall asleep quickly.
The bag hanging from Bucky’s door was full of overnight essentials, including a Stark Industries branded t-shirt and matching sweatpants. You managed to change and brush your teeth with only one hand, then found Bucky waiting for you in the hallway.
“I got my bed set up with extra pillows for you.”
You glanced into his room, then craned your neck to look back towards the living room. A lone pillow and blanket created a makeshift bed on the couch cushions.
Bucky answered the question on your mind: “I’m sleeping on the couch.”
You scrunched your face up. “No.”
“No?” Bucky repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Even with extra pillows, I think there is definitely room for us both.” You stepped into his room and surveyed the space. Again, although a bit basic and free from any excess, it felt like Bucky lived there. A framed picture of him and Steve lived on his dresser. A basket of unfolded laundry sat outside his closet door. An extra pair of boots leaned up against his bedside table.
Bucky let out a long breath, saying your name quietly. He shook his head then motioned towards the bed. “Okay.”
It took a few moments to adjust into a position that felt comfortable enough for you. Bucky helped you rearrange some of the pillows before he very cautiously joined you in the bed, doing his best to not create any extra movement to jostle you.
Silence took over a few moments later, when he reached down and grabbed your left hand.
You squeezed his palm, speaking through a yawn. “This isn’t how I pictured us sharing a bed for the first time.”
He laughed in return, shifting against his pillow. “Me neither, doll.”
Then, you heard Bucky move again. And after a sweet mumbling of goodnight, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
--
To say Bucky was reluctant to leave you alone was an understatement. But once you settled into his bed, the pain medication seemed to finally kick in and you were out like a light. He left a small note on the bedside table, near your phone, to let you know he’d be back quickly and to call for FRIDAY if you needed anything. As he slipped into the hallway, secured in a black hoodie, he glanced towards his phone.
Tony’s message had been nondescript, but Bucky understood enough he had information about Boone. Tony insinuated earlier he was already digging into the video footage and how to proceed, but knew Bucky would want to be informed every step of the way.
Not that it mattered - Bucky already had a plan: find Boone then kill him.
Okay, no, no. Bucky couldn’t kill him. He’d never take a life like that again but… well, he had already considered a thousand different scenarios that left Boone to deal with the consequences of his actions.
Bucky cracked his neck as he got into the elevator, shooting up to Tony’s lab. He stepped out directly into the space, following the echo of Tony’s voice somewhere inside. Bucky found him standing behind one of his workstations, hands flying around as he swiped at the screens illuminated ahead.
Tony paused, pivoting slightly as he shuffled a few things around on his desk. He leaned towards the end of his workspace, hooked his foot on the bottom of a wheeled chair and slid it in Bucky’s direction.
“How is she?” Tony asked, perching on the side of his workstation as Bucky sat.
Bucky shook his head. How could he even answer that? “Finally sleeping.”
“I hope they gave her the good stuff.” Tony’s fingers tapped against the side of the desk. “You know, Dr. Alvarez told me your girl must have a high pain tolerance given the severity of that break.” Before Bucky even had a chance to defend your non-relationship status, Tony carried on. “But Barnes - she’s tough, really tough. Look.”
Bucky turned his head to the screens, as a series of video captures started playing on the screen. It was footage of you - from the training gym, during all your sessions the week prior.
Tough didn’t seem like enough. You were strategic and resilient and smart. Sure, maybe you needed to work on your pace and Bucky could certainly give you some pointers when it came to aim, he was still impressed.
“Here’s the thing.” Tony paused the footage. “When this incident happened– listen, I know incident isn’t the right word here. But when it happened, someone retroactively cut out some security footage.” He shifted his hand and tapped the screen again. “I just recovered it. And I am looking into how that imbecile managed to bypass the admin code for the security logs.”
“Did you watch it?” Bucky held his breath, tearing his eyes from the screen back towards Tony who shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Bucky flicked his hand to the screen, to signal for Tony to show him. Bucky stood from his chair and crossed his arms once the video started.
As he watched, the anger flared up in Bucky almost instantly. Just seeing you alone with Boone in the gym made his stomach drop but when Boone shoved you down, Bucky growled.
The footage didn’t have any audio, though Bucky had a feeling that if he could also hear whatever Boone had been shouting at you, he’d be trashing Tony’s lab just to deal with his frustration.
At first, everything seemed normal enough. Bucky sucked in a breath when Boone pulled off your glasses. His fist clenched tightly when Boone pushed you down to your knees. When Boone’s hand touched your head…
“Good for her,” Tony muttered out when you quickly started to fight back.
When Boone escalated things though - as your face dragged against the mat, as he pulled at your arms, how he followed up as you tried to crawl away, as he clearly shouted and stomped his feet down on your hand, Bucky couldn’t help but boil over. He let out another growl and grabbed a nearby stool, snapping it over his knee.
He dropped the wooden shards to the ground, apologizing to Tony before requesting he turn off the video.
“Listen,” Tony raised his hands, as if to forgive Bucky for the outburst. “I can’t put Pepper through the PR nightmare if you kill this guy.”
“I’m not going to..” Bucky sucked in a breath. Well, he wasn’t going to speak in absolutes or promises. He could barely see past the red in his eyes, there was no point in lying.
Tony let out a small yelp. “Oh, hold on. Let’s..” He dropped back down onto a rolling chair and moved towards one of his computer screens. “FRIDAY, let’s pull up the last 6th months of data for Agent Nathan Boone. Every swipe in, hour worked, blah blah blah. You know the drill.”
Bucky tried to follow Tony’s thought process, crossing his arms as he watched the screens compile different information.
“When does he usually go to the gym?” Tony asked, swiping ahead of him as he scanned over the data.
FRIDAY’s lilt echoed above them. “Agent Boone, on average, visits the gym every day he is on schedule. He first enters usually between 6 and 6:07AM.”
Tony nodded. “Okay, and when was the last time we did diagnostics on the gym security system?”
“Well, boss, this system doesn’t require regular diagnostics due to the software protection.”
“Right. Then it sounds like we’re due.” Tony shot a glance over his shoulder to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Let’s run it in the morning, around 6AM. Full system shut down - including cameras - for half an hour?”
Bucky grunted. “Make it an hour.”
--
Following his visit to Tony’s lab, which actually concluded with sharing a glass of whiskey, Bucky made a plan.
He returned to his apartment and bed, where he luckily found you still sleeping soundly. When you both stirred awake a few hours later, just shy of sunrise, Bucky encouraged you to stay in bed while he hit the gym.
You barely argued as your eyes fluttered shut again, wincing only slightly as you adjusted on the bed. Bucky promised to return with breakfast when he was done.
Then, he headed to the gym. He discovered easily how effective a piece of paper could be at deterring people from entering. One well placed ‘Closed for cleaning’ sign and a locked door kept anyone else from accessing the space after Bucky watched Boone enter.
A thousand scenarios flashed through Bucky’s mind when he saw Boone. On top of the flood of thoughts he wrestled with all night long, Bucky was simply itching to rearrange Boone’s entire dumb fucking face.
But, no. No. He had a plan.
Bucky rolled his head slightly, cracked his knuckles, then headed towards the weight area. It wasn’t hard to find Boone, given he was the only other person in the space. That and he was already proving himself obnoxious - blasting music from his phone instead of using headphones.
“Boone.” Bucky approached slowly. Boone looked up as he did, shifting slightly as he sat on the bench and giving Bucky a small nod.
“What’s up, Sarge?” Boone replied. “I guess you and I are the only early birds today. Usually a few more in here. Though with some of these new recruits, I guess I’m not surprised they don’t give a shit about training.
Bucky sucked in a breath before motioning to the weight rack behind Boone as he set up a bench press. “You need a spot?”
Boone shrugged. “Sure.”
“This your warm up?” Bucky smirked, tapping against the plates resting on the bar. “You’ve gotta be doing more than that these days. Cap told me he’s been impressed by your bulking.”
Boone let out a stiff laugh. “I hit a new max rep last week, actually. I realize that’s nothing compared to you and Cap .”
“C’mon then.” Bucky leaned forward and slapped Boone’s shoulder. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Boone stood up on impact, skepticism evident on his face before he sat again. But, he didn’t falter. “Sure.”
Bucky walked over to the weight rack and grabbed two additional heavy plates, sliding them on as Boone laid down and got into position.
“Speaking of new recruits.” Bucky bristled as he tried to make convincing small talk with Boone and his dumb fucking face. If Boone thought it was out of character, he didn’t mention it. “How’d training go last week?”
Boone laughed, stretching his arms up to brace the bar. “Yeah, it went fine. Most of them passed. That’s on par with the recent cohorts. Usually one or two bail out.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky crossed his arms, doing everything in his power to reign himself in.
“Makes sense. Most people aren’t ready - some will never be–” Boone pressed upwards, inhaling a sharp breath as he lifted the bar.
“Too much?” Bucky took half a step backwards.
“No, no.” Boone carried on, barely moving the bar up off the rack. “I’ve got it.” His arms fully extended, as the weight bar swayed slightly between his arms before he positioned it back in place.
Bucky returned to the weight rack and grabbed two more plates. “Nice. You got more in you?”
Boone hesitated, looking backwards to meet Bucky’s gaze. He nodded. “Absolutely.”
Once the new weights were settled, Bucky stood above him again.
“Hey.” Bucky closed his eyes, moving to the side of the bench to peer down at Boone. Bucky said your name. “She was training with you last week, right?”
Boone froze momentarily then blinked. “Uh, yeah. I remember her.”
“Between you and me - how’d she do?” Bucky rested his hands underneath the bar, temporarily alleviating some of the weight as Boone pressed upwards again. “Do you think she was ready?”
Boone closed his eyes to focus on his lift. “Between you and me,” he echoed to Bucky. “That dumb broad will never be ready.”
A searing heat coursed through Bucky as he released his hands, stepping back as the overweight bar slammed down on Boone’s chest. Boone roared out in pain, whimpering as the entire barbell rolled down onto his throat. As his arms flailed at his side, trying and failing to push it away, Boone tried to call out for Bucky’s help.
Though his anger remained, watching Boone struggle was still enjoyable. And although Bucky would have been happy to see the barbell crush Boone’s windpipe, he eventually did step forward and reach for the weights.
With his left arm, Bucky removed the bar and threw the entire thing to the side. With his right hand, he yanked Boone up off the bench onto his feet.
“Did you forget how to spot me? The fuck?” Boone shouted, eyes widening as he rubbed at his throat. He swung his arm forward and pushed against Bucky’s chest. “I could have fucking–”
Bucky snarled, shoving Boone back the same way - sending him into the rack holding the weights. Boone bounced off the structure and tumbled to the side, wincing in pain as Bucky stalked after him. “Why don’t you fight back?”
“Barnes, you’re out of your mind. What the fuck–”
“Fight back.” Bucky advanced closer, looming over Boone as he scuttled backwards on the floor. “Prove yourself.” It was clear to Bucky that reference hit Boone directly. Although he couldn’t bring himself to snap back, Boone’s face grew red. An extra bead of sweat dripped down from his forehead, as he pressed against the wall.
Bucky crouched down, grabbing Boone’s jaw between his metal fingers. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Bucky said your name slowly. Boone’s eyes briefly widened. “What do you get out of beating up an agent?”
“I didn’t–” Boone tried to shake his head. “Is she your little girlfriend or something? Listen, I wouldn’t have – I didn’t know she – What did she say–”
“It doesn’t fucking matter if she’s anyone girlfriend, you piece of shit.” Bucky grabbed him by the throat and pulled him back up to his feet, sparing a moment to spit in Boone’s face before he made his next move. Bucky dropped his hand and took one step back, stretching his arms ahead of himself before letting out a growl. “Fight back, Agent Boone. Prove. Yourself.”
--
Despite your nicely medicated sleep in Bucky’s bed, you were tired. And talking to a lawyer and Pepper and HR and a member of the NYPD police, Officer Reyes, about the entire situation again definitely contributed to your exhaustion.
You were even on your second coffee but it didn’t seem to be helping. Bucky was practically holding you up as he sat at your side. You were in the medical wing at the tower, going through everything you needed before surgery. It had been scheduled quickly - probably at Tony’s request, given his relationship with Dr. Alvarez. And although you didn’t really want to think about the gravity of having surgery, you couldn’t help but look forward to the healing process. You wanted this all to be over already.
“That’s everything we need. You’re prepared for tomorrow. Start fasting at midnight!”
You thanked your coworker, Jillian, for being a wonderful nurse and securing you back into your sling. Bucky helped you to stand, giving you a once over to make sure you were okay.
Bucky had been quiet all morning. That wasn’t particularly out of character, but he seemed tense. You didn’t always see every side of him as friends and now with all this - things were shifting. You didn’t mind it, though. You welcomed it, especially after waking up in his bed and relishing in the sense of security that he was at your side.
“Hey Bucky?” You stopped him once you were outside the doors, heading in the direction of the elevators.
He immediately frowned, searching your face as he turned to face you. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “But are you?”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes, extending your good hand to grab his. “If you can worry about me, you must know I worry about you too. Can’t help it.”
Bucky cracked a reluctant smile. “Okay. Well, try not to worry about me right now then, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate.”
Before you could hit him back with another defensive rebuttal, you were interrupted by your name being called down the hallway. It was Pepper and Officer Reyes, again.
You drew in a hard breath, relaxing a tiny bit when you felt Bucky squeeze your hand. He hadn’t let go, and it seemed he didn’t plan to. When the officer asked to speak with you, Bucky took the lead and guided you into the nearest consultation room to have the conversation privately.
Pepper opted to wait outside but Bucky joined you, arms crossed in front of the door while you sat opposite the officer.
You really liked Officer Reyes. She was patient, direct, and took her job very seriously. And right now, that meant dealing with Boone.
“Just to give you a fair update,” she started, folding her hands together on top of the table. “We had the arrest warrant prepared and although he swiped in for work and into the gym this morning, we actually found Nathan Boone at his apartment downtown. He came willingly. In fact, it seemed he was waiting for us. He’s been charged with assault in the third degree and you’ll be happy to know he pled guilty.”
You sat back in your chair, a sense of relief flooding through you. Although you knew there was video footage and physical proof of Boone’s attack, you still had doubts the judicial system would work in your favour.
“So, is that it?” You asked cautiously.
Reyes nodded. “From you? Pretty much.” She tipped her head sideways briefly, considering. “I shouldn’t mention this, but given the circumstances, it must be some sort of karmic payback. Nathan Boone was in bad shape when we found him - the guy will probably need some medical attention himself. We asked him about his injuries but he had nothing to say. Fell down the stairs, so he says.”
“Bad shape?” You couldn’t help but ask. You didn’t have any sympathy for Boone but the curiosity surfaced.
“I have a feeling he’ll have to squeeze in some x-rays and a visit to a dental surgeon in between his court dates.” Reyes stood and offered her hand, giving you a small smile. “I’ll be in touch if we have any loose ends.”
After she left, you remained in your chair, quiet for a moment before you motioned for Bucky to sit. He was sitting after one swift stride, locking eyes with you.
You started slowly. “I meant to ask. How was your workout this morning?”
Bucky was straight faced, matching your pose across the table. “Good.”
“Nothing else to share?” You pressed, raising an eyebrow.
“I always like to have a plan when I go to the gym and this morning, I did exactly what I planned on doing.”
You nodded then leaned back in your chair. You knew you could ask exactly what you wanted and he'd tell you the truth. But maybe it was better left unsaid. If you didn’t ask, he didn’t have to explain himself either. But, that didn’t make the entire thing any less of an internal debate.
Why did you care even a little tiny bit about Boone being injured?
It wasn’t even about Boone.
It was about someone inflicting pain on your behalf. But, wait. Then again – was there any chance Boone was feeling guilty for his actions? Fueled by his fucked up testosterone levels and short fuse? Why did you have to wrestle with your conscience when he didn’t show even an ounce of remorse for what he did?
If Bucky had chosen to defend you, to wrestle with Boone instead… Well, maybe that was what needed to happen.
You remained in a staring contest with Bucky, searching his face for anything. You could see something just behind his lips, a desire to say something else. Maybe he was worried he would upset you with the whole truth about what happened at the gym. If that was the case, you also knew Bucky wouldn’t apologize for what he might have done to Boone.
Bucky was strong willed. He stood up for what he believed in. He’d never want to see injustice or unfair behaviour being excused.
You sighed then nodded again. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Bucky repeated slowly, tilting his head. “Sweetheart, I—”
“No. It’s okay.” You cracked a small smile. “Bucky, I—thank you. For last night and for not leaving my side and taking care of me, protecting me.. for everything.”
He said your name quietly, reaching across the table for your free hand. “It’s an honour.”
You sucked in a breath, blinking away the feeling of crying again. “Don’t do that – don’t be cheesy. I won’t survive.”
Bucky just smiled.
--
Somehow an hour long surgery seemed like a lifetime to Bucky. He glanced at his phone to check the time again and let out a long breath, slumping down just a bit further in his chair. Despite your exhaustion, you had barely slept the night before and Bucky felt helpless, even with all his efforts to calm your nerves.
“I’m a nurse, Bucky. I’ve helped so many patients before and after surgeries and I’m still just – I want this to be over.”
Bucky knew you were okay, in the best hands Tony could pay for, but he was still desperate to see you roll back down the hallway, safe and sound.
After another chance to take some breaths and repeat a few of his safe mantras, Bucky looked at his phone. Instead of seeing the time, he saw ‘Sam Wilson’ popping up on his phone.
It had been a very easy task for Bucky - ignoring Sam for the past 48 hours. It was petty, childish even, but he still didn’t want to talk to Sam. Bucky was still sitting in an uncomfortable swell of anger over the whole situation. A situation that could be traced right back to Sam, in a way.
Bucky closed his eyes and finally brought the phone up to his ear when Sam called back again. He stood from his chair and started down the empty hallway.
“This is Sergeant Barnes.”
Sam immediately scoffed on the other end of the line. “Thanks for finally picking up.”
Bucky just grunted. “What do you want?”
“I want you to say out loud what’s bothering you so we can move past this.”
Silence fell between them before Bucky finally replied again. “You put him in charge, Sam.”
“I have a lot of fucking regrets about that, Bucky.”
Bucky couldn’t help but wince when he heard Sam swear. In the field, Sam certainly had a mouth at times. But during the day to day operations of the job, back in the office, he was usually well restrained. Clearly, he was out of sorts, too.
“And I heard someone already went and put Boone in his place. There is only so much I can apologize for when that jackass cheated the system and misled me. Boone broke my trust and I can get over that. But I am fucking gutted I broke her trust. This never should have happened. I know that.”
“I know you know. I..” Bucky closed his eyes, pausing to rest against the nearest wall. Eventually, he left out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know what to do with my leftover anger, Sam.”
“You and me both, man. At least you got to crack him in the jaw a few times. Wish I could have been there.”
Bucky sighed. “I’ll tell you all about it in great detail. I owe you a beer, alright?”
“Whenever you’re ready to leave your girl's side, pencil me in.”
After he hung up with Sam, then exchanged a few messages with Steve, Bucky resumed his position of waiting for you outside the entrance to the surgical suites. He tried distracting himself with a few reports he had to go over and listened to a few tracks on a new playlist from Natasha. Eventually though, all he could do was stare at the door and be patient.
Soon enough, a nurse appeared at the door and signaled to Bucky he could come through. He was directed to a recovery area and finally, he could feel his shoulders relax. There you were - safe and sound.
Bucky pulled up a chair beside your hospital bed, greeting you with a smile as you looked towards him.
“Bucky!”
“Hey doll.”
“She’s still coming back from the general anesthesia. She might be a bit out of sorts still,” the nurse confirmed, giving you another once over. “The doctor said everything went well and the office will be in touch about follow up appointments.” The nurse paused, giving Bucky a coy smile as she walked away. “She immediately asked for you when she started coming to - Sergeant Handsome.”
“I said that was a private nickname,” you whined, closing your eyes tightly. You tried to push yourself up slightly to sit, but were quickly stopped by your immobilized arm. “Ow.”
“Let me help,” Bucky stood up and adjusted the bed so you could sit up more.
You turned to look towards him. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Bucky scooted his chair closer and sat again. “You feelin’ okay?”
You nodded. “Just a lil’froggy.. Foggy..”
“So, Sergeant Handsome? Were you talkin’ about me?” Bucky couldn’t help the smile on his face as you closed your eyes. Though it fell just as quickly when you frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Can I - can I tell you a secret?” You kept your eyes closed, letting out a slow exhale as you settled against the pillows propping you up.
“Sure, doll.”
“Actually, no, no.” Your eyes shot open, narrowing again as you locked eyes with Bucky. “This hasta be a secret exchange.”
“A secret exchange?”
You licked your lips then used your good hand to point at him. “You tell me one first, then I tell you one. It’s fair.”
“I mean, you started this whole thing,” he laughed, then decided it was probably best to play along. The medication was clearly still making you a bit loopy and the last thing Bucky wanted to do was upset you any further in this state. “Okay. Let’s see.” He paused again then shrugged. “I met my nephew a few weeks ago.”
“Bucky! Oh, oh wow. That’s..” You reached for his closest hand and he met you in the middle. You squeezed his fingers but didn’t let go after. “I’m gonna cry - I’m so happy for you. When I.. I’m back to normal, I wanna hear all about it. Okay?”
“I can’t wait to tell you, sweetheart.” Bucky cradled your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “Now, it’s your turn.”
You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes once more. “I’m.. I’m really sad we aren’t gonna have our date.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Who said we aren’t having our date?”
“We’re suppos’ta celebrate my new position and..” You shook your head. “Look’at me now.. No new job and-and a broken whatever–” You tried to move your casted arm and just winced, which quickly transformed into a yawn. “Who wants to date this..”
Bucky released your hand from his and leaned forward, bringing his palm up to cup your cheek. Exhaustion seemed to catch up with you as you fell back asleep. “I promise we’re going on that date.”
--
The first few days following your surgery were painful, as you probably should have anticipated. You insisted Bucky didn’t need to stay at your side the whole time - in fact, you knew he had work to do and an upcoming mission to plan for. Thankfully you had a few close friends in rotation who kept you company throughout your days and somehow an endless supply of credit with your favourite food delivery app, making your life a lot easier. (You assumed you had Tony to thank for that.)
You and Bucky still talked all day long. That made dealing with the pain a lot easier, too.
You: are you doing anything after work? You: if you’re free You: you could come over? Bucky: be there by 7 :)
“It’s going to leave quite the scar, unfortunately.” Your check up with Dr. Alvarez had downgraded you to a removable splint, which you were really relieved about. You were perfectly capable of handling the care yourself and it was nice to release the pressure on your hand.
You had taken the splint off to show Bucky when he showed up. You were sitting beside him on your small loveseat, catching up about your last few days. He was holding your hand gently in his own, tracing his finger lightly over your skin.
Somehow, by some weird trick of your mind, it seemed like the pain had already become easier to tolerate. Like Bucky’s touch was helping settle your nerves and discomfort.
“Tony has this thing… it could help with that,” Bucky finally responded, his voice barely audible. “The scarring. I don’t know how it works but it can build synthetic tissue and..”
You smiled when Bucky looked back up at you. “Yeah, maybe.” It was clear Bucky was holding something back but you didn’t want to press. “Okay, I have a confession. I invited you here because I need help with something.”
He nodded. “Sure. Whatever you need. What is it?”
It was another unconventional first for you and Bucky and your new whatever relationship status. You had visions of a sexy steamed bathroom, shared laughter and maybe slippery hands and low moans and… This wasn’t how your first shower together was supposed to go.
You chewed on your lip as you tried to figure out the logistics. You had a semi-normal shower the other day, but it had been incredibly difficult if not impossible to get any soap or shampoo where it needed to go with an immobilized arm. Even now, without the splint, you barely had any range of motion in your hand. Plus you were supposed to be taking it easy.
“Okay, so. Let’s…” You turned towards the shower then back towards Bucky, who was standing only a few inches from you - thanks to your tiny New York City apartment bathroom. “I’ll be in the shower. Uhm, naked. Then when I need soap or shampoo or… whatever, I’ll stick my good hand out and you can give it to me.”
Bucky stifled his laughter. “Sure. I can… give you whatever you need, doll.”
“Bucky,” you whined, doing your best not to laugh along with him. “Don’t, please. I know this is weird.”
“I’m sorry,” he immediately sobered up. “I’ll, just..” He turned to face the door, away from you, as you stripped down and got into the shower. “Tell me when I should turn around?”
It wasn’t a very graceful process but it worked. Bucky was very polite and helpful with everything you needed. Truthfully, it would have been better to have him in the shower with you but you just weren’t there yet. Beyond sleeping side by side and cuddling on the couch, nothing further had happened between you. And well, that was expected - given everything. But your stupid injury really was getting in the way.
“Okay, just, uhm - my towel?” You turned off the water and reached out, feeling the fluffy fabric right away. You did your best to wrap it around your body then drew the curtain open again. Bucky was waiting for you, eyes closed tightly but with an extended hand to help you step carefully over the tub.
“Thank you,” you said quietly. “You can open your eyes - I’m covered.”
“Feel better?” He asked as he opened his eyes, offering you one of those soft, sweet Bucky looks you were coming to really appreciate and love.
God, you didn’t want to fuck this up.
“Here, let me..” Bucky took your injured hand and carefully fixed your splint back into place. Then, well, he filled in the small space between you both.
You sucked in a breath as he positioned his forehead against yours, beads of water and condensation sticking to his skin. “Thank you,” you repeated, though you wondered if it was even audible.
He kept one hand safely holding your injured wrist while his other found a spot on your hip. He whispered your name with just enough inflexion for you to understand his unspoken question. As soon as you tipped your head into a nod, his hand left your hip and was encompassing the side of your neck, thumb running against your jawline.
Your tongue swept across your lips. “ Yes.”
Bucky’s lips met yours, gentle and rough and exactly what you imagined kissing Bucky might be like. A bolt of electricity surged through you, across every nerve. It was the perfect balm to forget about your wrist, about uncertainty, about anything but Bucky.
--
Although you knew you were returning to work on a modified schedule and task list, you had still been nervous about it. Especially because you didn’t know what everyone else knew about Boone and you and what had happened. But luckily you were welcomed back to cheerful coworkers and a very light workload.
And no one mentioned Boone or your injury. You did have to catch on newly updated mandatory company wide training though, directly related to substance abuse and security protocols.
You got used to working with only one hand, which would still be the case for a few more weeks. But otherwise, things felt okay. And by the time your meal break rolled around, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about being back at the tower. Because you had a lunch date with your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend Bucky Barnes.
Not that having lunch with Bucky was new, but now it felt like so much more. Every single milestone in your relationship so far had been abnormal but this - this was perfectly ordinary. Although calling him your boyfriend still felt a little foreign on your tongue, you didn’t mind that change.
When you spotted Bucky in the cafeteria, your knees nearly gave out altogether. You couldn’t help but grin when he stood to greet you, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. With the other he pulled you in for a hug, followed by a kiss on the forehead.
“Hi,” you said, using your freehand to brush against some of the petals. “This is unexpected.”
Bucky smiled, taking the seat across from you. “I was going to hand deliver them down to the med floor but I figured you might be a bit overwhelmed this morning. And maybe Sergeant Handsome would distract you from important work.”
You rolled your eyes, though it was impossible to hide your giddiness and fight off your warm cheeks. “You’ve gotta let that one go, please.”
“Absolutely not.” Bucky shook his head, still smiling. God, would you two ever stop smiling? There was something incredibly comforting about knowing Bucky was feeling just as wild as you were when it came to all these kinds of feelings.
Ever since he kissed you - when you were sopping wet and injured and a mess, all wrapped up into a towel - things had just been heightened. Not that everything had been smooth sailing, especially when it came to your pain and this recovery process, but going through all of it with Bucky was exactly what you needed.
Every time you struggled or hit a new roadblock, he let you have a moment to react then he simply cheered you through it. “You can do hard things,” he would echo back to you time and time again. (Which was particularly annoying sometimes, like when you were on your first official date and couldn’t twirl your pasta very well.)
As you were approaching the end of your lunch break, sharing a dessert with Bucky, you sighed. “Can I just say something out loud?”
Bucky nodded. “Of course.”
“I just…” You reached to adjust your glasses as you found your words. “..can’t help but think about how right now I should be preparing to be on the field team and maybe even going out on missions to help and.. I’m just disappointed.”
Bucky put down his fork, churning through his own thoughts before he replied.
You continued. “I mean, I guess there’s no way of knowing if I would have even passed the evaluation though. Seeing as I never even… it’s likely I might not have been ready. Maybe I’ll never be ready for it now. I have to start from scratch with this—” You held up your wrist. “I can’t even do the boring parts of my regular job with one hand. I have to do the extra boring stuff instead. I.. I’m just whining. I’m sorry.”
“Do you have to get back right away?” Bucky asked, grabbing his phone. He sent a quick message then stood, extending his hand out for you to grab. “Let me show you something.”
Your manager had told you to ‘take it easy’ your first week back, so running late from lunch probably wouldn’t be a problem. So, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and followed.
The upper floors of the tower weren’t somewhere you had ever visited before. You shot up the elevator and nearly let out a gasp when you and Bucky arrived in Tony’s lab. It was huge - with bright lights, big windows and plenty of flashing screens.
“Stark?” Bucky called out, keeping his hand tethered to yours as he guided you through the space.
“Over here,” Tony called back, popping out from behind a screen. “It’s all loaded up. I’ve gotta run to meet Pepper and some very irritated investors but I’ve granted you full access to the video footage.” He turned towards you. “How’s the hand?”
You tried to give him a thumbs up. You winced. “Getting there.”
“I’ve got a good therapist - physical therapist, that is. No one can help this brain.” Tony tapped his temple. “I’ll send you his details.”
Just as quickly as you arrived, Tony departed, giving one last pointed look at Bucky before he disappeared into the elevator muttering into his wrist.
“Sit,” Bucky instructed, pulling a chair and positioning it in front of the screen. “Please.”
You let out a dramatic sigh before complying.
Bucky sat in another chair at your side, picking up a nearby tablet. With a swipe of his hand, video footage appeared on the screen ahead. It started to play.
It was footage of you - giving your all during your training sessions. From the sparring drills to physical challenges, you kept up and even performed better than some of the others.
You snuck a glance towards Bucky, who was watching the footage with what could only be described as a proud smile.
“You’re resilient, sweetheart,” Bucky said quietly, turning his head. “Although I could offer you some tips, you woulda past Sam’s eval - there’s no doubt in my mind.”
“Tips? Like what?” You couldn’t help yourself from smirking. “You wanna throw down on a gym mat?”
“Preferably a mattress, actually,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow as he paused the video. “Well, right there - you could have—”
“Okay, I don’t need a play by play.” You nodded and let out a slow exhale. “I get it. I’m capable. I just have to.. get back to that.”
Bucky turned back to you again. “You’ll get there. I’ll help. I can be your personal trainer.”
“Okay.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now, about that mattress.”
--
ONE YEAR LATER
Three months. It had been three months since you were officially on the field medical team. The job hadn’t been easy or soft - especially the first time you were dealing with bullet wounds in the middle of nowhere.
The med team was a tight knit group though - you had joined a new training group following many months of recovery and training and luckily found a wonderful team of colleagues. Not only that, your time supporting major Avengers missions had been an incredible, and daunting, experience.
But today, three months in, you were finally on a mission with your boyfriend. Bucky’s speciality was covert ops and most of his missions were small-scale and secretive, with only a select team of Avengers involved. But this particular mission was a bit different - with the medical team joining later as things had escalated.
After everything had settled, including a few injured civilians who were assisted and transported for further care, everyone had returned to the jets with a long flight home ahead. You found a spot on the jet with Bucky, Sam, Steve and a few others.
“Agent! Medical attention is needed over here.”
You whipped your head around, searching for Steve and where his voice was coming from. You took a few strides forward, pausing as the jet started to take off. You found Steve sitting near the back with Bucky.
“This man is dying of a broken heart, apparently,” Steve rolled his eyes, pushing off from his leaning position and patting Bucky on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
You just sighed but couldn’t help smiling. You grabbed Steve’s arm before he got too far away. “Want me to clean that up?” You pointed to a small cut near his hairline.
Steve waved his hand. “Thank you but it’ll be fine by morning.” He gave you another smirk before heading to sit with Sam in the cockpit.
“What’s wrong with you, Sergeant Handsome?” You smiled at Bucky as you stood in front of him.
He reached out to place his hands on your hips, slotting you just between his legs as he sat. “Two hours with you and not even a kiss yet.”
“Oh my god,” you swatted his shoulder. “I was helping people. Your knives were flying all over the place. When was the optimal time for that?”
He replied with an exaggerated eye roll. “Alright, fine.” He extended his hand up to cradle your jaw, pulling you down to meet his lips.
“Better?” You asked, shifting to take the seat beside him.
“Much.” He nodded, turning enough to get a better look at you. “How are you doing though? I know today is–”
“I meant what I said the other night,” you cut him off. “Seriously.”
You knew Boone was getting out of jail after serving a year, which admittedly was the best sentencing you could have hoped for. Not that it really made up for his indiscretions but you knew you’d never see him again anyway. You didn’t want to waste anymore of your energy or time on him ever again.
“Forgetting he exists is only one thing. You know I can make sure he actually ceases existing and–”
“Bucky,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m good. Truly.”
You lifted your right hand to stretch your fingers, taking a moment to admire the fancy glove Tony had designed for you. It was reinforced with something that gave you even more support when out in the field. You were grateful for it, though your rehabilitation had been successful. Slowly you pulled it off your hand, pausing to stare at the lines on your skin. All that remained was an occasional ache and some fading scars.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky raising his right hand and you grinned. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another. Before you could pull back, Bucky gently grabbed your hand and moved it closer, pressing a soft kiss against your scarred knuckles.
Maybe you were left with a few fading scars. And maybe every single step along the way hadn’t been easy.
But you had Bucky by your side. Bucky, who you found unintentionally, whose touch filled you with life.
And maybe that was all you needed.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#story: electric touch#simmer writes#simmerandcry#simmerandwrite
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hiii can u do the boys when they love another member’s gf? i love angst hehe and i love your works!
⤷ washing machine heart ┈ ot5.
pairings and tags. lovesick!ot5 x members'!gf . angst . yearning . guilt . suppressing feelings . denial . longing . inner turmoil/conflict . lmk if i missed any!!
word count. 0.9k
short note ... AAA i love love love this req! thank you so much for sending me this, anon! and so so sorry that this took so long too T_T nevertheless, i hope u like it <3
soobin .ᐟ
my soobie toobie woobie :( i feel like he would be the type to silently shoulder his emotions, sometimes even trying his hardest to convince himself that his feelings aren't real or that they didn't matter. he'd go and overanalyze every interaction, making sure he isn't overstepping any boundaries he made himself,,, around her, even with the others present, he'd be more reserved and shy, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by nervous laughter, maybe even going as far as avoiding eye contact altogether or making up excuses to leave the room. he would also maintain a safe distance, actively making sure he's never put in the same room as her. in the end, he'll choose to simply suppress his emotions and feelings entirely, prioritizing the happiness of his dear friend and the peace of the group over his own </3
yeonjun .ᐟ
oh jjunie,,, at first, he'd be in denial; he'll try to convince and tell himself that it was just his fleeting thoughts, that his heart totally did not just do multiple flips after seeing one of his bestfriend's girlfriend smile of all people. but the more he dwells on that thought, the deeper his feelings become, until it's too much to ignore. yeonjun would find it hard to be his usual self around her, trying to play it cool, but in the end, he crumbles completely. as a deeply loyal friend, thinking of and having feelings towards his bestfriend's girlfriend would weigh heavily on him, and he might even try to overcompensate, showing excessive support for their relationship by saying things like, "you're so lucky to have her!" or "you guys are perfect for one another!" so he doesn't feel as awful (it doesn't work) :(((
beomgyu .ᐟ
an actual hopeless romantic :( it would most probably hit him the hardest once he actually realizes his feelings,, his first reaction would be disbelief; he would likely tell himself too that it was just a tiny crush, but the more he suppresses it, the more he'd find it impossible to ignore the pangs of longing and guilt that comes with it. he'd be more "silly" and hyper around her, a mask he puts up so his real feelings doesn't show, only to later regret it once he's alone with his thoughts. as a way to silently express his yearning, he would stay up late, using his talent as an escape, writing songs about her and pouring his emotions into music rather than towards her directly. ultimately, he would try to distance himself one way or another too, even if it left him quietly hurting </3
taehyun .ᐟ
my tyun :(( his level-headed nature would make him approach the situation with as much logic as possible, even though emotions are never entirely rational. he would keep his interactions with her polite but distant, avoiding anything that could be misinterpreted, but in private, taehyun would sit in his room with his headphones on, letting sad or introspective songs play as he processes his emotions. he wouldn’t cry easily, but the pain would show in subtle ways, like in the far-off stares he’d have while thinking about her. but then his pragmatic side would berate him, reminding himself that these feelings were unproductive and unfair, but the ache would linger, quietly gnawing at him. nevertheless, his respect for his bestfriend's relationship would outweigh any hurt he's feeling, letting his feelings fade overtime for everyone’s sake :(((
hueningkai .ᐟ
my sweet sweet hyuka </3 as someone who values the happiness of those he loves, he’d be overwhelmed with guilt the moment he realizes he has feelings for another member’s girlfriend. it would leave him confused and conflicted—he’d wonder how his heart could betray his loyalty to his bestfriend in such a way. kai would likely smile and joke around her like usual, but there would be a noticeable hesitation in his voice, and he might fumble with his words or avoid looking directly at her, as if afraid his feelings would be exposed. his kindhearted nature and empathy would push him towards a resolution: he’d choose to quietly let go of his feelings, no matter how much it hurt, finding solace in the fact that love also means wanting what’s best for others—even if it means stepping aside :(((
taglist! @pagelets, @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia, @frankghgr, @dawngyu, @unusuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries, @napipope-ta, @bamgeutori <3 (click here if you would like to be added ^^)
#soobin x reader#soobin imagines#soobin angst#soobin headcanons#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun angst#yeonjun headcanons#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu angst#beomgyu headcanons#taehyun x reader#taehyun imagines#taehyun angst#taehyun headcanons#hueningkai x reader#hueningkai imagines#hueningkai angst#hueningkai headcanons#txt x reader#txt imagines#txt headcanons#txt angst
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fresh meat - the shield (18+)
⛧ pair: the shield (jon moxley/dean ambrose, seth rollins, and roman reigns) x reader [i know he goes by mox now but i’m calling him dean for this one]
⛧ tags: @88changemymind @reigns-prophecy @cyberdejos2 (please let me know anytime if you'd like to be tagged in recent or future works.
⛧ warnings: primal play, kidnapping cre@mp1es, unprotected p in v, @nal (you're welcome), oral (m! and f! receiving), foursome (f/m/m/m), exhibitionism, lots of positions, degrading (my specialty), edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, tr1ple p3netration [future warnings may be updated in this ff] as always minors should not interact ♡
⛧ sorry I haven't been active - I been busy with college and a recent trip to Germany: I always had a little fantasy of these 3 being dominant in a "certain" kind of way. Also I will go ahead and apologize if this isn't my best work - I've never had any bad writer's block like this and this the first time I've written a foursome so my apologies if it's a bit hard to understand.
⛧ the shield took out lots of the lockerroom; you however were in front of their next target. They surrounded you and were thinking of what to do you as punishment for getting in their way.
⛧ word count: 3.8K
How did you get here? How did you find yourself like this? The Shield were already pissed off about whatever the chairman told them but why you? Why were you surrounded by those three?
You quivered in fear as The Shield stared at you. Ambrose smirking, Rollins checking you up and down, and Reigns looking deep into your eyes.
"What do you think, boys?" Dean asks his fellow brothers. "What should we do with her?"
“I don’t know, Dean.” Roman replied, annoyance in his tone. “I’m getting irritated from her looking at us.”
You shivered from Roman’s words. You never thought you’d see yourself in this position - three hungry wolves lurking around you like they found their next meal. You sweated, praying that they won’t hurt you. But why you out of all people?
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
An hour earlier…
The Shield was pissed at Triple H for screwing them over for a tag team championship rematch. They’ve been begging to get this opportunity since their reunion.
They’ve already put many superstars through the announce tables and anything else they could attack other male superstars with.
You, a female superstar, were minding your business, getting ready to support your best friend, Naomi since she had a match for the women’s championship. While getting ready to meet her, you noticed a good friend of yours, Drew McIntyre, being part of the Shields main targets. Of course you couldn’t stand there and not protect your friend.
You noticed Seth about to make a sneak attack on Drew and you immediately blocked him from landing a hit on Drew. Seth was stunned seeing you try to stop what The Shield was all about - justice. And they sure had a way of making it known. You froze, asking yourself, "What were you thinking? You stopped a member of The Shield?! That's asking for a funeral." But you didn't want to show you were afraid, your face remained as emotionless as you could.
Drew didn’t say anything and left, a little amused from your small act of protecting your friend. In that space was just you and Seth. Seth began to smile and laugh at you, not believing you would stop any member of this faction.
“Sweetheart, there’s absolutely no way you’re trying to stop me. Either you be a good girl and move out of my way or you’re going to regret it.” He threatened, looking at your face. You felt offended from what he called you and didn’t move a muscle. It was stupid to do what you were doing, but your body was telling you to stay still.
When Seth saw you wouldn’t budge, he sighed and chuckled. You don’t know why he was laughing but you wouldn’t dare to ask.
“Welp, I tried to warn you.”
Those were his last words when two figures emerged from the dark - his other brothers, Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns. Your eyes widened as you realize your situation, three on one. You walked back slowly, backing yourself up to a wall. The three now surrounding you - making sure you wouldn’t escape from them.
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
Which leads to now. You felt your stomach drop as Seth approached you slowly, reaching his gloved hand out to your face, lifting your chin up with his finger.
“I’d say we punish her for getting in our way - making our next target get away.” He finally spoke, his other hand reaching to gently cup your face. “What do you think we should do, gentlemen?”
Dean and Roman both look at each other and smirked, both sharing an idea. “I think we should make her regret messing with us.” Dean replied. “We should ruin that pretty little face of hers.” Roman chimed in.
“I agree.” Seth chuckled. “Y’hear that? We’re gonna punish you.”
Your eyes widened. Punish? What did they mean? You lost your train of thought when you were suddenly picked up by Seth, him placing you on his shoulder.
“Put me down!” You yelled, landing punches on Seth.
“Oh you’ll have to try harder than that, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You’re ours now.”
You squirmed trying to become loose from his grip as the three men carried you away, putting their plans on beating up the whole locker room on pause.
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
You were brought to an empty room, only decorated with a couch and a table, Seth finally putting you down from his shoulder.
You quivered as you watched Dean closing the door and locking it, keeping his eyes on you. It was now just the four of you in a room, without anyone interfering with whatever they wanted. You took a step back as they began to approach you. You were scared to your wits - afraid of how they were with anyone who dared cross them, you were shaking as to what they wanted from you.
“Look at her, boys. She’s afraid of us being in front of her. How adorable.” Dean chuckled flattered that you found them intimidating.
“Awww what’s the matter, sweetheart?” Seth asked. “Scared of us? You think we’re gonna hurt you?”
“Cmon, babygirl. Don’t be shy~” Roman chimed, waiting for you to answer.
You gulped, too stunned to speak.
“Y-Yes…” you replied.
You watched the Shield smile, finally getting a reaction out of you. You felt humiliated with your situation. You just wanted them to leave you alone so you could go home.
Dean approached you, completely in front of you and looking into your eyes. You shivered feeling him go to the crook of your neck, getting a smell out of you. You held your breath feeling one of his rough calloused hands touch your waist, making their way slowly up your body. Dean hummed in approval, taking note of how sensitive you were with his gentle touch. You gasped when you felt his lips gently kiss your skin, his hand now intertwined with yours. Dean chuckled to your noises as he kept kissing your neck, obsessed with your scent.
“What….what are you-“
“Shhh. Relax, doll. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He was gentle with his tone - a bit too gentle. It was slightly erotic. With his other hand, he motioned for Roman to also get a smell of you. Roman smirked and made his way behind you - his hands going under your shirt. You shivered from how cold they were. You bit your lip when you felt them go in your bra cupping your breast, giving them a squeeze. You closed your eyes tight feeling Roman gently biting your ear. Seth was amused to you trying your best not to submit to their touches and kisses, he admired seeing how you were pathetically trying to not give a reaction.
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart.” Seth laughed, watching his fellow brothers make a mess of you “You can make noise. Only us will hear you.”
“Aww is someone shy?” Dean cooed “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“Go on, babygirl.” Roman ordered
You accidentally left out a moan as you felt Dean bite harder into your skin - Roman squeezing your breasts a bit harder, playing with your nips. Your free hand went around Dean, pulling him in closer onto you. As much as you were afraid to admit it, you were getting turned on. You felt yourself getting damp to multiple kisses and hot breaths surrounding you.
“Please…I..” You tried to talk, feeling intoxicated from being touched and kissed.
“What is it, babygirl?” Roman asked “You want some more?”
“Don’t be scared, doll. Tell us what you want.” Dean added, his hand slowly going down your crotch. Your breath was shaky as you tried to open your mouth.
“I…oh fuck…I want more.” You replied, feeling a bulge being pressed against your ass. You moaned from Dean’s hot kisses all over your neck, Roman having his hands gripping your sides and continuously rubbing his bulge on your ass, still playfully biting your ear.
“Hmm, good girl” Dean whispered, getting turned on from your submissive voice.
You whined when Dean stopped toying with you, stepping back as Seth was in front of you now.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll be gentle with you.” Seth chuckled, cupping your face as he pressed his lips against yours, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. Your muffled moans and pleas turned on the three hungry men. You felt sandwiched between Seth and Roman, feeling them kiss all over you.
“Yknow…this gear of yours” Roman started, before he lifted your top up “Has always distracted me whenever you walked past us.” Before you could speak, your top was off, being completely naked from top. You shivered from your naked breasts being exposed to the air. You watched as Seth’s eyes grew hungry with lust seeing your hardened nipples as he began to play with one of them, making you whine from his touch.
“I…I don’t understand.” You started, feeling Roman place gentle kisses on the back of your neck. “I thought you three were going to literally hurt me…”
“Hurt you?” Seth was surprised from your statement “Oh no sweetheart we could never. Isn’t that right boys?”
“She’s too pretty for that” Dean smirked, admiring how sensitive you were.
“And these bottoms…” You felt one of Roman’s calloused hands make their way to your waistline, teasing part of your bottoms “They always hugged your curves in all the right places..” You yelped feeling your bottoms quickly come down, revealing your laced underwear. You were now nearly nude in front of the three behemoths, your body shivered from the sudden temperature change.
“Oh? What’s this?” Seth teased, his hand making his way to your clothed cunt, “Lace? Were you expecting this, sweetheart?”
As you opened your mouth, you felt Seth’s hand make small circles on your clit, sending a wave of vibrations down your spine. You were already wet from being kissed and toyed with from Dean and Roman, but feeling Seth play with your clit made you wetter and needy for more.
“You’re so wet, baby…” Seth whispered, his hand going faster on your clit. You whined from his touch, your eyes tightly shut. You felt so small under their touch and dominance.
You were shaking, you've never felt this kind of sensation before and it was driving you wild. Your whimpers felt like music to their ears, enjoying every sound you made whenever they touched you.
What seemed like eternity, Seth finally stopped playing with your cunt, admiring your juices being all over his fingers, Roman backing away from behind you. You were confused as to what they were going to do next.
"I always wondered what do you taste like, sweetheart"
Before you could say anything, you were placed on the couch, your legs spread wide open. You watched The Shield admiring your clothed cunt. You were scared to make a noise as Seth slowly made his way toward you, his hands gently pulling your underwear off.
"Are you scared? Pathetic. You weren't so scared in stopping us earlier. What happened to that brave little soul?" he teased, forcefully spreading your legs wider to a better view of your wet cunt.
You couldn't answer, your breath hitched feeling a warm tongue circling your clit. You couldn't move your legs much as Seth kept them open.
"F-Fuck.." you cried, your eyes shut from the waves of pleasure, you melting in front of the three. You amused them, they've never seen you so submissive like this before.
"What a good little slut..." Seth muttered, his gloved fingers circling your clit as his tongue went in you.
Dean and Roman watched in admiration but a little jealous that they weren't having their way with you just yet.
"Please...I...I want to-"
"You're not going to cum until I tell you too, understood?"
You cried from Seth's orders, feeling your stomach tighten and winding up. You whined when he stopped, unable to cum without their permission.
"I thought of something else."
You were confused by what he meant, until he motioned for Dean, making his way towards you. You were swiftly put on your knees, ass up in front of Seth. You looked up at Dean, his eyes hungry for you.
"You're going to be a good girl and take the both of us. Got it?" Dean asked, his hands removing his belt and black pants. You quickly nodded, not saying a word.
"I'm sorry, are you going to address him correctly?" Seth muttered, delivering a harsh slap on your ass; you yelped from the pain, your mind going white for a second.
"Yes...Yes sir."
Dean smirked and pulled down his boxers, revealing his thick cock. Your eyes widened from how big he was, you were worried as to how you were going to fit him all in your mouth. You lost your train of thought when you felt Seth's fingers playing with your clit, you gasped from how rough he was being.
"Open your mouth, whore"
Dean roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcefully pushing his dick in your mouth, your eyes forming tears as you gagged on his length, his tip touching the back of your throat. Seth, growing impatient, pushed himself into you, your cunt throbbing from being stuffed.
Your moans were muffled as you felt another slap across your ass, Seth thrusting in and out of you. You whimpered feeling Seth's hands roughly grabbing your sides, Dean grabbing a handful of your hair.
"God damn, you're such a slut" Dean groaned, His free hand roughly grabbing your face "You're doing so good."
You whimpered from how you were being manhandled from the two, trying to grasp for air.
"You're taking me so well, sweetheart." Seth praised, delivering another slap on your ass. The two men getting sloppier with each thrust. You felt your stomach tighten, you were getting desperate to cum.
"Look at me." Dean ordered, raising your face up, "You were wanting this for a while weren't you?" You nodded, afraid to disobey him. He smirked, biting his lip. "You're so cute."
Your eyes rolled back as Dean and Seth went harder and faster with their thrusts, you knew they were going to cum soon, your stomach getting tighter and tighter.
"I'm going to cum in your mouth, are you ready?"
You nodded to Dean, gagging from his length.
"Me too, sweetheart" you heard Seth groan, his hands grabbing your ass. "I'll let you cum, okay?"
You whined, finally wanting to be filled with cum. Your stomach beginning to wind up.
"Fuck..." Dean growled, thrusting one last time before filling your mouth with his cum.
You reached your orgasm too, your cries tighten your pussy as Seth thrusted into your cunt, his seed explode deep in you. The three of you rode out an orgasm, your body shaking from the round of sex. Dean pulled his cock out of your mouth, letting you breathe while Seth slowly pulled out of you, your pussy leaking his cum. Dean grabbed your face, leaving hot kisses all over you. "You're a good slut...but you know we aren't done. Roman hasn't had a turn yet with you."
You slowly turned to see an impatient Roman staring at you, smirking as you knew he was going to be aggressive with you. You yelped from Seth smacking your ass one more time before standing up, Dean giving you one more kiss before he also gotten up.
"She's all yours, Roman."
As Dean and Seth stood back, Roman took his time making his way toward you, admiring your flushed face and your submissive position. He gently cupped your face with his hand. He smirked looking into your eyes, listening to your heavy breathing.
You were scared as he remained silent, thinking of what he wanted to do to you. You didn't want to question him since he wasn't that much of a talker. What seemed like forever, he smashed his lips onto yours, catching you off guard from his swift movements. You whined as both of your tongues twirled against each other. His free hand slowly making its way to one of your breast, playing with your nipples. You whined from his touch, rough but gentle. You knew this wasn't what he really wanted.
He finally pulled away, allowing your lungs air. His eyes never leaving yours. He gently stroked your face, still not saying a word. Why wasn't he saying anything? Was he already getting bored? What was he planning?
You looked down and saw a massive bulge in his pants, your eyes widening. "How is he going to fit that in me?" you thought to yourself. He took noticed and chuckled, amused to how shocked you were.
"How cute..." Roman muttered.
You were startled to his tone, finally hearing him speak. He swiftly put you on your back, your cunt being in front of him. You watched as Roman undid his belt and his pants, revealing his huge, veiny cock. "Holy...fuck" your thoughts were full of concern. You felt as if he was going to rip through you.
He positioned himself, not breaking eye contact and keeping your legs open, watching your face expressions carefully. You gasped feeling his tip tease your clit, throbbing for attention. You could feel your face getting warm.
You whined as he roughly pushed himself into you, your walls tightening from how thick he was. He made sure you adjusted to his size before thrusting roughly into you, grunting from how tight you were.
"Fuck, babygirl..." his groans hypnotized you, your eyes never leaving his, your tits bouncing with each thrust. He leaned toward you, pressing his lips against yours again, you wrapped your arms and legs around him. You were surprised he wasn't being as rough as you were thinking. You felt it wasn't really what he really wanted to do with you just yet.
He pulled away from your lips, wanting to look into your eyes again.
You shut your eyes tight from how good you felt, You gasped as Roman grabbed your throat, limiting a bit of air.
"Look at me baby. Look at me while I fuck you."
You opened your eyes again, obeying Roman as he thrusted harder into you, your legs pathetically trying to close themselves. It was too much for you to handle.
"You're so beautiful like this."
His praises were erotic. You couldn't talk much as his grip went a little tighter on your neck. You felt your stomach slowly tighten. You gasped his thrusts went faster into you, you were trying to grab his arm that was around your neck. Roman quickly intertwined his hand with yours, preventing you from releasing his grip.
"I wouldn't do that, babygirl."
You cried feeling your stomach getting tighter, his thrusts getting sloppier.
"Do you want to cum, baby? I'm getting ready to." He growled, holding back from cumming in you too quickly.
"Ye..Ye..Yess" Your words were limited, feeling yourself getting closer to your limit. He smirked and released his grip on your throat, letting you breathe.
"Fuck baby...I'm gonna cum"
You sobbed, cumming all over his cock, one last thrust before he came in you, your eyes rolling back, shaking from your second orgasm. Roman kissing you one more time before pulling out of you, he smiled looking how exhausted you were.
"We're still not done."
You felt your stomach dropped from those words. Not done? What else could they have wanted? You look back and see Dean and Seth coming toward you and Roman, having another idea.
Roman smirked and helped you up, having another thought in his head. Just then, you were picked up for a second, Dean now laying on his back, you on top of him, Roman behind you and Seth in front of you. You knew where this was going. You whined feeling Dean push himself into you without warning, Roman teasing your ass before slowly pushing his tip in. You were about to scream before Seth put his dick in your mouth, muffling your cries. You never felt stuffed like this before. It was a little painful, but you didn't mind. Your shut your eyes tight as the three men began to thrust into you, you feeling so full to a point you've never felt before. The sounds of groans and skin slapping filled the room, it was too erotic for either of you to handle. You never had sex like this before but it didn't bother you.
"How's this, y/n? Us filling you up like this?" Seth laughed as he cupped your face, watching your eyes roll back, his other hand grabbing a lot of your hair roughly.
You could only let out a few muffled whimpers and cries, begging to be fucked rougher.
"This is what happens when you cross us, y'hear?"
You gasped as Dean began playing with your tits, making you overstimulated, sure to cum soon. Roman was now the one delivering harsh slaps on your ass, even harder than what Seth did earlier. Tears formed in your eyes from the overbearing pleasure. It was too much yet it felt too good to stop.
Their thrusts gotten harder and disgustingly faster, your stomach tightening quicker than the last few times. Your breath gotten quicker from each thrust. Seth took notice and grabbed your face forcing you to look at him.
"Fuck...I know you're about to cum but you're not going to yet, slut."
You whined from his demands, trying desperately hard not to disobey him from cumming too quickly. Your body felt like jello, it was unbearable to keep still in the same position due to the amount of pleasure: Seth's tip always touching the back of your throat with each thrust, Dean hitting your sensitive spots, and Roman stuffing your ass with his cock. It was a lot to handle.
You were getting impatient, your whines growing loud from your upcoming orgasm, it was starting to hurt holding it.
"I'm getting close, fuck...I'm about to cum in you, baby." Dean growled, his grip gotten tighter on one of your breasts.
"Same here. You still holding it, hmm?" Seth asked you, your eyes blurred from tears. You quickly nodded, it was really starting to hurt holding your orgasm."
"Shit, I'm about to cum." Roman muttered, his thrusts getting sloppy.
You cried out releasing your orgasm on Dean's cock, Your vision going white. Dean followed behind, filling you up with his cum. Roman forcefully grabbing your sides, his seed burst into your ass, and Seth cumming down your throat. The four of you rode out a rough orgasm. Seth finally pulled out of your mouth, keeping his tight grip on you keeping eye contact. Your breath was scarce, finally having some time to breathe. Both Roman and Dean pulled out of you, still staying in their position, all of you breathing heavily from the round of sex. Your body was shaking, shivering from how rough you were fucked, cum leaking from both of your holes.
Seth chuckled, amused from how completely exhausted you were now, giving you a rough kiss on your lips.
"This was your punishment."
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