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lowkeyerror · 5 months ago

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Instant Attraction pt2

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 9.8k

Notes: StepMom!Wanda, cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on sex, intoxication, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse with minimal descriptions of physical acts of violence towards children

Summary: Your dad left, the twins went with Jarvis leaving you and Wanda with some alone time, but it doesn’t seem to last too long.

An: It took awhile but I got it up. If I decide to continue writing for this I'm ngl it seems like something I'll update monthly, because it's just kind of a lot to write but realistically I only see like 1 to 2 more parts happening. Thanks for the love and all the request for a second part hope I delivered 🫶.

Previous Part | Masterlist

Seven days. You had waited seven long days to have Wanda to yourself. Whatever apology your dad offered hadn’t placated the woman. There was still tension in the house up until the day he left. Everything was calm after that.

You spent more time with Billy and Tommy, further strengthening your bond. Wanda had been working a lot, but still made time to spend with the three of you together. Seeing the intensity of her workload, you had taken on cooking, not minding if it gave her one less thing to stress over.

You didn’t think you’d be so reluctant to let Billy and Tommy go their father’s, but when the day came you couldn’t help but fuss over them.

“Listen, I know your mom told you to call if her happened, but you can call me too. I’ll come get you guys, it’s no problem. Any time for any reason alright?”

“Thank you Y/n,” Billy speaks sincerely.

You tussle his hair, “It’s nothing.”

Tommy gives you a side hug, “Take care of our mom.”

“Will do, I’ll see you guys soon,” you chuckle.

Wanda walks them out to the car. You watch as Jarvis gets out when the boys get in. You can see him running his mouth, but it’s quite clear to you that Wanda isn’t having it. She begins chastising him in the street. The way he can’t refute her puts a smile on your face.

The asshole deserves to be treated that way. You can see the way his shoulder slump as he gets back in the car.

Anticipation builds as you see Wanda heading back to the door. This is the moment you had been waiting for. As soon as the door closes, you’re on her. Your body towers over her’s, slightly trapping her between you and the door.

You look down at her, with lustful eyes. Her hand cups the side of your face and you lean into her touch. Her gaze falls at a snail’s pace from your eyes to your lips.

“We're alone.”

“And what do you plan to do about that?”

Instead of answering the question verbally, your lips bare down on her’s. Her back hits the door with a soft thud due to your intensity. Yet she doesn't want you to slow down. Her arms lock behind your neck as her legs try to hook onto your waist. You’re quick to hold her under her thighs, supporting her with eases.

It's your sign to take her upstairs. There’s no hesitation as you head straight for the master bedroom. She giggles against your lips as you lay her onto the bed. Your kisses create a path from her lips down the side of her face to her neck. You’re careful to suck lightly, even though you wish to mark her. Your teeth glide over her skin animalistically.

Her hands roam freely under your shirt, the skin feels as though it's burning with desire. Her fingers are cold against you, but you love the contrasting sensation.

Her eyes are dark when they meet yours again, “You want to take it off for me baby?” Wanda tugs at your shirt a little and you’re eager to comply.

She slips her shirt over her head at the same time. The swells of her breast call to you immediately. The soft mounds of perfection, held up by a lace bra that left little to the imagination. Her perky nipples peak through and you can tell they’re stiff.

You can feel your hands twitching, eager to feel them, but waiting patiently for her consent.

Wanda laughs at the dumb look on your face. You’re practically drooling over her.

“Come here,” Wanda calls for you to invade her personal space and you oblige. “Unhook my bra,” her eyes dare you.

Your hands are steady as the reach behind Wanda. You undo the clasp and you can you feel yourself instantly dampen. The way your hands crave contact with the supple flesh strikes your core.

You reach for one, focusing on the soft gasps you hear from Wanda as your thumb cascades over her nipple. You rub the already stiff peak between your fingers before making a show of licking over it all the way up to the sweet spot of her neck.

An open mouth kiss lingers where your tongue stops. It’s then that you look to her. The slight swelling of her lips, the desperate looking her eye, the sweat of her brow. She was perfect and with no one around she was yours to claim.

Your eyes drop from her face down her chest to the jeans she had on.

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I need to see it up close, please mommy,” you beg her earnestly.

She nods her head, chest already heaving lightly. Your hands reach for the top button of her jeans when your phone goes off. You ignore it the first time, but it continues to ring.

Wanda sighs thinking that you would take the call, instead she’s surprised when you simply turn off the device. With a new frustration in your movements you slide her pants down her legs.

“You aren’t going to get that?”

Your fingers toy with the elastic of her panties, “You think I’d answer the phone with you in front of me like this?”

Wanda looks away in shame, “Well-"

“He’s a fucking idiot,” you pull her panties to the side.

You lay on your stomach so that you’re eye level with her wet pussy. You’re tongue barely slides through her folds before you hear your doorbell repeatedly ringing as someone pounds on the door.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say in frustration.

You throw your shirt back on and rush to the door. Wanda is hot on your tails with her jeans half on and her shirt in hand. You yank the door open to find Yelena standing there with a smirk on her face.

“What do you want?” You do your best not to yell at her.

Yelena holds her hands up in surrender, “I know you are, how they say, a little pent up as of late, but don’t be going and yelling at me.”

“Sorry, I was just… in the middle of something.”

“Your games can wait, tonight we club.”

You had completely forgotten.

“Right, right, the club,” you run a hand through your hair.

“I know technically she’s your friend, but I invited Kate Bishop to come with us, it’s going to be a night to never forget.”

“And when are we leaving?”

“Hmmm come over at 8, we’ll pick up Kate Bishop, and go from there.”

You nod a few times, “Cool, I’ll be over at 8.”

Yelena put a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry, this will definitely help you with your… situation. And please don’t dress like a 12-year-old boy, you are hot, stop hiding it.”

With that Yelena leaves and you close the door.

“You’re going to a club?” Wanda’s voice startles you, you had almost forgotten that she was there.

“I guess so. I agreed to go a week ago, but it slipped my mind.”

Her eyes narrow, “And what situation is she referring to?”

You stride towards her, and place your hands on her hips, “You know, just the whole being attracted to my step mother thing. I’m supposed to go clubbing to distract me from her.”

Wanda’s cheeks get rosy, “I got you so worked up that you told the neighbor about it.”

“First of all she’s my best friend. Secondly, we had almost kissed and were trying to do the right thing. At the time the right thing was going out and having fun with people my age.” You lean in so your lips touch her ear, “But now I think I just want my mommy.”

With much effort Wanda speaks up, “It’s almost 6, you should start getting ready.”

You frown, “I don't want to go.”

“Too late, your friends are expecting you. Yelena literally almost broke the door down. Besides if you don't go tonight, she'll just try for another day. Anything to help you get over your dad’s wife, right?”

Your hand fumbles with her jeans. She doesn't stop you as you pull them down, or when you drop to your knees, “At least let me make you cum. I’ll get ready right after. I promise.”

“Y/n,” she tries to hold strong.

You nudge her legs slightly apart. Just like before your tongue swipes through her folds. This time you suck lightly on her clit before looking at her innocently.

“Want to make you cum so bad mommy, please.” you beg her, reveling in the way she tastes.

Wanda wasn’t used to this at all. Before you came it had been too long since Wanda felt attractive. She was truly astonished by the way you wanted her. In this moment denying you felt like denying herself.

Carefully her hand threaded through your hair. Her grip wasn’t tight, but you were controlled by it nonetheless.

“Go ahead baby, show me how much you need me.”

You were more anxious this time than in the bedroom. Something about this being your first time going this far with anyone finally started to rattle around in your brain. You had to make her cum, that's what you focused on.

So with your hands on her thighs and her hand in your hair, you surge forward a bit. Your tongue dips into her folds, at first dragging back and forth between them. Her taste on your tongue makes you moan. Your tongue swirls her clit before taking it into your mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me. Flatten your tongue a little.”

You do as she says and the grip on your hair tightens slightly. She moves your head back and forth as you keep your tongue pressed against her.

“That’s it baby, get that tongue inside of me,” Wanda’s eyes are closed and her head is thrown back.

Your tongue prods against her slit trying to make its way inside of her. You move her hands to the back of her thighs pulling her closer to you. She’s as close as she can be when your tongue slips into her warm cunt. It doesn’t go in far, but it’s just enough to have her moaning your name.

“Fuck, look at me while you tongue fuck me,” she uses your hair to tilt your head up a bit.

You’re drunk on her at this point. You feel like you’re in a state of euphoria, as her juices slide down your chin.

The small pants from Wanda only spur you on. What was a slow, explorative pace turns into something fast and unhinged. You begin to fall in love with the sound of your tongue swiping through her. The sloppiness of it all feels delicious.

“I’m going to cum on that pretty little face,” it’s airy when she says it, her knees buckle.

Her hold on your hair loosens as she cums. The increase of the amount of wetness makes you want to keep going, but the shaking of Wanda’s knees make you slow. You stand, placing your hands on her hips, to help steady her.

“You taste so good mommy,” you lick your lips, keeping eye contact with the woman.

She pulls you into a deep kiss. She has a fistful of your shirt, making sure you don't pull away from her before she’s ready. Her tongue explores your mouth trying to capture every last taste of herself lingering on you.

“You did so well for me,” she pecks your lips once more.

The way your ears heat at the compliment has Wanda chuckling.

“You’re so bashful when I compliment you, pretty girl,” her hand brushes over your face.

You know that the tips of your ears are bright red by now. You burry your head in the woman’s shoulder, “It’s my first time doing anything like that.”

Wanda doesn’t believe you, “There’s no way.”

“I’m serious, the farthest I’ve gone is dry humping, this…” you pull your head out of her shoulder to motion between the two of you, “will be my first time, going past that.”

You see the look dances in her eyes, “Are you telling me, that no one has got to experience you like this before?”

“Only you mommy,” you fall into her fantasy seamlessly.

“How do you feel about that?”

Her hands subconsciously slide up and down your body. Her lip fits in-between her teeth, pulling slightly as her eyes find yours.

“I want you to take everything you want from me,” you tell her seriously.

Her fingers are cool against your skin, “You’re going to give it to me?”

You take her hand guide it down your torso and into your pants. She gasps when she feels how wet she’s made you, “Anything you want.”

“I want you… to go get ready for your night out,” she says, placing her fingers into her mouth.

She pushes you away from her playfully. You whine her, “Wanda.”

“Come on, I’ll even pick out your outfit,” she starts walking upstairs.

With your head dropped you reluctantly follow behind her, unable to stop yourself from mumbling, “Should be undressing me, instead."

“What was that?” Wanda’s sharp eyes hit yours.

You straighten your posture, “Nothing, nothing. I was just saying I can't wait to see what you pick.”

Wanda laughs, “Careful detka, I’d hate to have to give you a punishment.”

Your mouth hangs open at the thought, saliva pooling with desire.

Wanda shakes her head, grabbing you by the upper arm. She leads you to the bathroom. She shoves you inside, “You’re going to need a cold shower, to get your mind out of the gutter. While you do that, I’ll get your clothes ready.”

You try to decompress as the cold water runs down your body. Every time you take a deep inhale all you smell is Wanda on your face. You close your eyes and you see her urging you to be good for her.

You rest your head on the shower wall trying to get a grip. Your focus shifts to the way water feels against your skin. It’s cold, rigid, grounding. After you finish showering you do your skin care and brush your teeth as well.

When you make your way to the bedroom, you find Wanda sitting on your bed next to some of the clothes she had gotten for you. The towel that you had around you seems to garner a lot of her attention.

You can’t help but tease her, “You still want to help me get ready, or you just want to stare?”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, put these on, quickly so I can do your makeup.”

“I don’t really-"

“Trust me,” she bats her eyelashes at you.

You scoop up the clothes, “Fine.”

You drop the towel and she watches as you dress yourself. When you’re done, she stands and adjusts your clothes to how she likes them. You had apparently pulled the jeans up too high and she was quick to unbutton a large portion of buttons on the shirt. You had the shirt all the way tucked in and she pulled it so that one end of the shirt hung out.

You watch in your mirror, as she worked over your clothes. The shirt now plunged into a low V, which is something you never would have done on your own.

“Perfect, now get on the bed.”

You lay with your back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling pretending to be uninterested in the things Wanda is gathering in her hands. When she has the things she needs, she sets them on the bed next to your legs. The makeup is not entirely foreign to you, but you’re definitely no expert in it.

Wanda the straddles your waist, her hair dangles down as she studies your face. You feel your nerves picking up under her gaze. She was truly one of the most breathtaking people that you had ever laid your eyes on.

“Stop looking at me like that,” it’s not until she speaks that you notice her blush.

You look away, but her fingers grip your chin gently moving you back to the original position, “Sorry."

“It’s not going to be too much, I promise,” she begins applying some light make up to your face.

“Wanda, have you… done this before?”

“Makeup?”

You want to shake your head but you stop yourself because of your current predicament, “No, like been with a woman.”

“A few,” she answers nonchalantly.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t stop working, “Does that matter to you?”

“No, I was just curious.” You pause for a long moment before saying, “Like in college or?”

“Close your eyes,” she commands and your eyelids shut. “ In high school, in college, out of college, I’ve found my way around.”

“So it’s common for you, to um date women?”

Wanda nods, “Well yes, I like women, they’re pretty. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I just- where does my dad come into the picture?”

“Cause he’s a man?”

“Well…”

Wanda chuckles to herself, “Sweetheart I like men too, maybe just a little less.”

You choke a bit, “Oh yeah, duh.”

She finishes with your eyes, “Can I ask you something, Y/n?”

“Anything.”

“Have you ever dated?”

You sputter for an answer, “ I mean- unsuccessfully, yes. Like I’ve been on dates, but they’ve never really progressed.”

“You said you dry-humped.”

You feel yourself growing embarrassed, “I did, but I never said she was my girlfriend. I’m not… people don’t really date me. I’m not exciting or adventurous or anything like that. I’ve got average looks, but I’m so socially inept that it just kind of-"

Wanda stops your rambling with a kiss, “I think you’re a catch. Now sit up so I can do your lips.”

A nasty thought swirls in your head, you try to keep it down, but it’s out of your lips before you can stop it, “I think you’re just saying that because I can make you cum.”

Wanda’s eyes look into yours, it feels like she’s staring into your soul, “I’m not. I’m saying it because you’ve shown it to me. You’re attentive, you’re dedicated, you’re kind, you know when to take charge, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re charming, and funny, the fact that you can make me cum is just the icing on the cake. I was drawn to you before we even became intimate.”

“How can you see all that in such a short time?”

Her hand slips into yours, her thumb cascades over your knuckles, “It’s impossible not to see, Y/n.”

You clear your throat, “Sorry, I’m just not used to the um praise I guess.”

“Don’t apologize, I don't have any problems reassuring you whenever you need it. You deserve it, pretty girl,” Wanda places one more quick kiss on your lips.

She finishes up with your look. When you see yourself, a wide smile spreads across your face. You look amazing, you feel a strange sense of confidence burst through you.

“Thank you, for helping me get ready.”

“I couldn't let you go out without a little help. Now, you look good enough to eat. I hope you're prepared to keep the crowd off of you tonight.”

You reach for her and she lets herself enter your grasp, “I only have eyes for you.”

“You say that now, but it’ll be harder when some sweet young girl is pulling you onto the dance floor,” her gaze drops.

“I’ve never really had a thing for girls my age. I’ve always liked them older. Not to mention you’re the perfect woman.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Y/n,” she tries to escape your hold.

“I thought that same thing, but then I saw you and I knew I’d been lied to.”

She blushes and you let her go, “You’re so corny. I think it’s time for you to go to Yelena’s. Wouldn’t want her to come breaking down the door again.”

“And you'll be waiting for me when I come back?”

She throws you a smile over her shoulder, “ I’ll be right here.”

You send her one back. You start to head to the front door, but you turn back half way. It was impossible for you leave without giving her one last kiss.

“I’ll see you later,” you say walking away one last time.

You exit the house and head for Yelena’s, when you knock she answers quickly.

“You look amazing, I never knew this was possible for you.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up, and let's go get Kate.”

“Do I not get a compliment?”

You huff, “You look great, can we go now?”

“You’re so mean to me,” she says stepping out of her home.

She flashes her keys and you hop in the passenger seat of her car. During the drive you catch up on more that you missed while you were at school. Not just neighborhood gossip, but specifically what had been going on in Yelena’s life. When the topic shifts back to you she asks about Wanda.

“So how've you been holding up?”

You weigh your options briefly. Tell the truth or lie to Yelena. It made sense to say nothing had changed, but that's complete bullshit that Yelena would see right through.

“Things are still complicated, but it’s different now,” you say uncertainly.

“What does that mean?”

You look out of the window, “My dad’s on this trip for work, he’ll be gone for a month, maybe longer.”

“So it’s you, the kids, and Wanda?”

“Not exactly, the kids left this morning. So it’s just me and Wanda.”

Yelena whistles, “You poor soul. Just you and your forbidden fruit right there for the taking.”

You sink down in your seat, “What if I did?”

“Did what?”

“Take it; what if I crossed that line?”

Yelena laughs, “I don't think you have a shot Y/n.”

“But if I did, would it be wrong? You should've seen how they fought Yelena. My dad didn't tell Wanda about his work trip until 3 days before he was supposed to leave. She blew up on him, but well deserved. The guy hasn't changed, never there for the people that need him the most.”

She sighs, “I think morally it’s wrong. That's your dad’s wife… but if you're asking me if I'd judge you for it, then I would not. She’s an attractive, kind, woman who, let’s be honest, is too good for your dad.”

“Ok.”

“Any particular reason you are asking me this?”

You clear your throat, “Well, I- we…”

“No way,” Yelena turns to you fully.

“THE ROAD, LENA LOOK AT THE ROAD.”

She readjusts her hands on the wheel and looks forward, “Y/n did you fuck your stepmom?”

“Technically no… but maybe she came on my thigh and I ate her out,” you say it so fast Yelena almost doesn’t understand.

“Oh my god! How did this happen? What did you do? I thought we were putting distance not full sending?”

“I told you she was arguing with my dad. I kind of had to take charge of the situation. The kids were there so we went upstairs. I came back down to like be an adult and end their argument it worked. The boys fell asleep in my room so I went to theirs. She was in there… she asked me if I would leave, I said no. One thing led to another.”

“WITH THE WHOLE FAMILY THERE?!?!”

“It was the heat of the moment. We waited until the twins left before it happened again but then I was nearly cock blocked by a blonde psycho banging on my door.”

She looks at you again, “I can’t believe this. What about your dad?”

“I don't know, but I’m not giving her up without a fight,” your tone is stubborn as you speak.

“So… new plan for tonight. You’re getting wasted enough to forget the consequences of your actions.”

“Sounds good to me.”

When you pull in front of Kate's place, you go to text her, but Yelena stops you. She gets out of the car and goes up to the girl’s door. When Kate opens the door, you watch them converse.

You take note of how Yelena continuously seems to fluster Kate. You’re starting to think you know why Yelena invited the brunette in the first place.

“Hi Katie, glad you could join us.”

“I don't think I had much of a choice Yelena basically said it was for the greater good and that I needed to come for your sake.”

You give the blonde a light glare and she raises her hands in defense, “Don’t be mad at me for caring.”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

So you do just that on the way to the club. Kate’s reactions were hilarious making the blonde woman in the driver’s seat last. You had just finished when you guys arrived at the club.

“We should’ve pre-gamed harder,” Kate says when you finish telling the story. “Y/n this is quite literally the craziest thing you’ve done in your life.”

“By far,” Yelena adds on.

“I’m aware, but I can’t bring myself to regret it or feel guilty. For the first time in my life I feel like I’m doing something for myself.”

Yelena parks the car as you get close to the destination. You all get out and begin walking to the club.

“You know what? Fuck yeah, Y/n,” Kate pulls you into her side.

Yelena puts her hand on your shoulder, “And when this inevitably goes wrong or gets super complex, we’ll be here for you irregardless.”

“Regardless,” Kate corrects her.

“Same thing.”

You wrap your arms around both of them, “Enough talking, tonight we drink. To being young, wild, and reckless.”

As you enter the building the music is blasting at max volume. It’s packed, as people dance to the beat of the song. Bodies are everywhere and the only lights are the colorful splotches that move across the room.

“I thought you hated the club?”

“I do, but hopefully drinking will change that,” you scream over the music.

Yelena takes charge leading the three of you to the bar. There’s two seats so you stand as the other two sit down. The blonde has already ordered a round of shots for you to down.

She reaches her hand out to Kate who takes it curiously. Yelena pulls Kate into her lap, and your former dorm mate yelps in surprise. Your neighbor keeps the smile on her face as she looks at you, “Sit.”

You eye them, “Is there something I should know about?”

Kate turns a deep shade of red, “Uh um.”

Yelena just chuckles, “No, but I am working on it. Are you opposed to this Kate Bishop?”

“Well, no,” she cautiously meets Yelena’s eyes.

“Perfect, I’ll drink to that,” Yelena picks up one of the shots.

You two follow suit, immediately as she orders another round. It takes about 4 shots before you feel the nerves that you had settle.

Guess by Charli XCX and Billie Eilish starts to play in the club.

“I fucking love this song, let’s dance,” Kate gets off Yelena’s lap and pulls her to the dance floor.

You follow the pair feeling the beat of the song travel through your body. Your dancing consist of a lot of jumping as you scream the lyrics along with the rest of the club.

You’re in your own world so you don't notice a girl dancing behind you until you almost turn into her.

“Hi,” she shouts over the music.

“Hi,” you don't stop dancing.

Your movements cause a smile to spread across her face, “I like the way you dance.”

“Thanks, it’s the alcohol.”

“I’m Cass, do you mind if I dance with you?”

In the moment you thought nothing of it, “Sure, I'm Y/n.”

You dance with the brunette. There are a few times when her hands brush against your body, but you think it's tight space, that makes it impossible to be anything but close to her. You end up being pushed up against each other. She stumbles into your arms. You grab her shoulders so she doesn't fall.

“You good there?”

“You’re really pretty, and oh your arms are pretty buff too,” she looks up at you through her eyelashes.

It sobers you up a bit, “You here alone Cass?”

She shakes her head, “No I came with my friends.”

“Let’s help you find them.”

She grabs on to your shirt, “But I like it here, with you.”

You take her hand in yours and off of your shirt, “That's nice, but what if your friends are worrying about you?”

“You’ll keep me safe won’t you,” her hand moves to swipe some hair behind your ear.

“Y/n, there you are… who is this?”

“This is Cass, she needs to find her friends,” you look at them for help.

She pouts, “Why, when the girl of my dreams is right in front of me?”

Kate interjects, “Don’t you want to introduce her to your friends?”

Cass's eyes sparkle and she grabs your wrist, “Eli and America will love you.”

She begins dragging you through the club while both of your friends do their best to keep up.

“Cassandra Lang, we've been looking for you, “ another girl comes up and pulls the blonde from you.

“America, this is Y/n the love of my life,” Cass throws her arms around her friend.

Her friends raises an eyebrow as she looks at you. You shake your head.

“I’m not the love of her life. I found her on the dancefloor and thought I'd try to get her to her friends,” you explain.

Cass frowns, “But I thought we had something?”

A man approaches and ruffles her hair, “You have had too many drinks. Sorry about her.”

“It’s alright. Well I’m going to get another drink. It was nice dancing with you Cass,” you send her polite smile.

“I love you, Y/n,” she says as you walk away.

“She was pretty cute, Y/nn,” Kate says as you wait for another drink.

“Kate Bishop remember she’s whipped by the red headed milf,” Yelena reminds her.

You nod as you sip your drink, “Damn right.”

You pull out your phone and see you have a couple missed calls from your dad. He calls again while the phone’s in your hand. You pick it up even though you can barely hear it in the club.

“Hello!”

“Kid where are you at? I’ve called you and Wanda and I haven’t-”

“I’m clubbing, Wanda’s home. I’ll talk to you later,” you hang up on him before he says anything else.

You down your drink and get another after that.

“You don’t want to slow down?” Yelena watches you.

“Nope.”

You don’t slow down. Having a few more drinks before hitting the dance floor again. You’re definitely a little more than buzzed. The more you start to realize how intoxicated you are, the more you want to go home.

Your mind starts to wander to Wanda. Her body, her lips on your neck, her voice in your ear. You start to picture her riding you, but not your thigh this time. She’s fully naked bouncing on your lap and your mouth is occupied sucking on her nipples.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself.

You see Yelena and Kate dancing in the corner. It looks like they’re caught up with each other. As much as hated to interrupt them you did it anyway.

“Lovebirds, I’m going to get a Lyft home,” you shout at them.

“You don't want me to take you, I haven’t had anything since we came in?” Yelena says.

“Nah, you two have fun, ok?”

Yelena nods, “Let us know when you make it safe.”

“Will do.”

The Lyft ride is a little hazy. By the time you get to your house, it feels like you’re in full heat.

You attempt to open the door but the key keeps slipping through your fingers. Your hands are shaking as you attempt to get in. The door swings open causing you to drop they keys.

You crouch down to get them off the ground. When you raise your head, you see Wanda looking down at you with her arms crossed.

A silk robe adorned her body and it left little to the imagination.

“Your dad called me, he’s mad I let you go to a club,” she says.

“Oh.”

She tilts her head to the side, “Are you going to say down there all night?”

You stand up quickly, nearly dropping the keys again. When you step into the house, Wanda closes the door behind you.

“How’d you get home?”

You stare brute answering, “Lyft.”

“Where’s Yelena?”

“She stayed with Kate at the club. I wanted to come home. I missed you,” you step into her personal space, hands playing with the bottom of her silk robe.

“We have to talk about what your dad said,” Wanda tries to grab your attention.

“I don’t want to talk about him. I want to show you how much I missed you,” your warm hand closes over her cool one.

You slide her hand into your pants. Her fingers brush in-between your fold barely grazing your clit as she pulls her hand away.

“You’re drunk,” Wanda says it more to herself than you.

“And horny. So definitely not the time to talk about my dad. Especially when all I can think about is mommy.”

Wanda visibly sigh before taking your hand in hers and pulling you up the stairs. You finally think you’re getting what you need, until she directs you towards the bathroom.

Once you’re in there you sit on the counter top.

“Y/n you need to- what’s that?”

Your brows furrow, “What?”

“That on your chest,” Wanda’s jaw clenches as she speaks.

You try to look down at your chest failing to see what she’s talking about, “My boobs?”

“There’s lipstick on you,” she swipes her thumb across it raising up so you can see the pink color coating it.

“Oh, it must be from Cass.”

“Who’s Cass?”

Your eyes close as you try to recount the story, “There was this girl at the club, she was dancing with me and saying that I was like the love of her life or something? She was so drunk she fell like into me. We found her friends though, and then I got more drinks. She was kind of pretty but like my friends said I’m whipped by this red headed milf that lives in my house. Whoops sorry I said milf.”

Wanda went through a lot of emotions as you were speaking. The thought that some girl from the club tried to claim you made her jealous. Some girl putting her hands on you, her lips on you, saying you were the love of her life just made her furious. However she thought it was cute that you said you were whipped for her. She also didn’t hate being called a milf.

“Y/n let’s get you cleaned up,” Wanda turns on the shower.

“If I take my clothes off, will you fuck me?”

She snorts, “No, because you’re drunk.”

You pout, “This fucking sucks.”

Wanda kisses your forehead, “If you can get yourself clean and ready for bed, we can kiss a little.”

That’s all it takes for your clothes to come off and you to rush into the shower. While you’re in the shower Wanda picks out some pajamas for you and takes them back into the bathroom. She decides to wait for you to finish in your room. She makes herself comfortable on your bed.

Around 10 minutes later she hears your feet padding along the hallway floor. Soon you’re opening the door and falling face first into the bed, the alcohol making you sleepy.

“So too tired to kiss?”

She doesn’t expect a response, but she finds it adorable when you scoot closer to her. Your legs tangle with her and you drape an arm over her. Lastly you lift your head, with your eyes still closed, puckering your lips.

She gives you a soft kiss and you tuck your head into her shoulder. You mumble a ‘goodnight’ and it seems you’re out in an instant.

When you wake up the next morning the bed is empty. There’s hardly any light peeking through your curtains, but the little light that is makes you squint your eyes. Your head is throbbing and you groan recounting how much you drank last night.

When you sit up in the bed you notice the water and what you assume to be Advil on your bed side table. You gulp down the water and take the pills without hesitation.

You check your phone and your eyes widen as you see that it is 2pm. The time shocks you but doesn’t make you move any faster. You change into some sweats before brushing your teeth and heading downstairs.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until the sun went down again,” Wanda calls from the kitchen.

You follow her voice, seeing her wash dishes. You move with confidence, hugging her from behind and resting your head on top of hers.

“I’m never going clubbing again,” you kiss the top of her head.

“Do you remember anything from when you came home?”

You frown, “Something about my dad.”

She turns in your arms, “Yeah, he called me pretty upset because someone hung up in his face.”

“Well what was I supposed to do? I could hardly hear him. Plus he only called me because you weren’t answering,” you explain to her.

“I told him you were old enough to make your own decisions and that I wouldn’t be stopping you “

“Good.”

“I also told him you’d call him back today…”

You separate from her begrudgingly, “Fine, I’ll get it over with now.”

The call to your dad was nothing special. He tried to scold you a little bit, but you reminded him that you were an adult that could do what you wanted. Then he turned the conversation into just wanting to make sure you’re safe and that home is safe. He asked about if you knew what Wanda was up to while you were gone which threw you for a loop.

He was extra curious about her whereabouts and activities since she was home alone. You told him you didn’t know. With the boys gone and your night out it was seeming like he was stressing about what she could’ve been doing.

“I just want to make sure that you know there’s nothing strange going on while I’m away,” he says towards the end of the conversation.

“What you think she’s having someone come over or something?”

He pauses, “No, I just- sometimes when Jarvis stops by, I get a little territorial you know, like this is mine and-”

“You don’t own her dad and I’ll have you know she actually just laid into him yesterday about what he’s been saying to Billy.”

“I wasn’t saying I owned her. It’s just Wanda is an amazing woman and I just don’t want to lose her.”

You roll your eyes, “Well that’s what conversation is for. Talk to her, communicate your feelings, and trust her.”

You hear him click his tongue, “I see what you’re saying. I gotta go kid, I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”

When he gets off of the phone you’re annoyed with him. However it’s a little funny that he has every right to be worried. He doesn’t know the person he’s worried about is you.

“So what did he want?”

“To make sure you weren’t inviting anyone over while no one else was home because, and this is a direct quote, he gets a little territorial and you are his.”

She ponders, “Well I am his wife.”

You disagree, “His wife not his property. He doesn't own you.”

“And if we were married instead?”

“If we were married you would be mine but I would be yours too. I’d trust you and your judgement. There’s no way I’d ask my kid to keep tabs on you,” you say without skipping a beat.

“He’s got you all worked up, sweetheart,” Wanda gets behind you and starts rubbing your shoulders. “You’re too young to be this tense, go sit on the couch for me.”

Shortly after you sit on the couch Wanda stands behind you, continuing to put a subtle pressure on your shoulders.

A moan drips from your mouth as she works the knots in your shoulders, “Oh god.”

“You know I was thinking last night about how you've made feel good and I haven't returned the favor. I think it would really get some of this tension off of you baby.”

You tilt your head back to stare up at her. She pecks your lips once, twice, three times before your hands rests on her face holding her in the upside-down kiss.

Her hand reaches to tug at the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly pull it over your head. She takes the time to rid herself of her shirt as well. She comes over to the other side of the couch so she’s facing you.

Almost like you did yesterday she gets on her knees. She pulls your sweats and you help her get them off.

She kisses up your thighs, your legs tremble with excitement. It causes her to giggle against you but she doesn’t stop with her kisses.

When she reaches your underwear she makes eye contact with you, “Are you sure?”

“Please mommy, I want to cum,” you say not breaking eye contact.

She rids you of the underwear and spreads your legs a bit. Just from a small make out and shoulder rub, you’re wet.

Wanda plays with idea in her mind of what she wants to do first. She decides to slide one of her fingers inside of you. She watches the way your hands squeeze the couch cushions.

“You’re so tight and warm. I don’t think your pussy would even give me my finger back,” she watches as your cunt sucks in her finger.

Her pumps are slow at first to allow you to adjust but soon she picks up the speed.

“More, I need more please,” you say with your eyes screwed shut.

“Look at me,” Wanda commands.

You do as you’re told and she slips in another finger at your compliance. Your head falls forward and your breathing intensifies as you watch her finger fuck you.

“That’s it pretty girl, open up for me,” she starts spreading you with her fingers.

Her thumb makes light contact with your clit. You almost arch off of the couch, but she keeps you grounded.

“So sensitive baby, could you handle it if I-” she cuts herself off, deciding to stroke your clit with her tongue. It’s sensual as she takes it into her mouth, sucking lightly. Her fingers continuing to pump into you.

“I- fuck, I’m going to cum,” you mewl, gripping onto the couch with all of your strength.

“Cum for mommy,” Wanda looks up at you briefly before refocusing on your pussy.

Her teasing pace becomes more solid as her fingers and tongue work in tandem to bring you to your climax.

The heat builds inside of you, unlike anything you've experienced by yourself, and soon it’s seeping out of you. Your body convulses as you cum with Wanda’s mouth on your clit and fingers buried inside you.

Your eyes are wide and breathing is short as she slowly works you through your orgasm. When she senses you’ve come down, she climbs up into your lap. Her lips capture yours in a sweet kisses.

She’s gentle as your tired lips attempt to keep up with her’s. Your hands finally leave the couch cushions to rest on her lower back, unwilling to put any distance between the two of you.

“You did so well for me detka,” she strokes your hair, kissing you on your forehead.

“I’ve never felt anything like that in my life,” you say breathlessly.

Wanda takes your earlobe in her mouth playfully, “Get used to it.”

She attempts to get out of your lap, but you don’t let her, “What about you?”

“I have to get back to work.”

You plead, “I can be quick.”

The desperation in your tone only makes her more wet than she already is. She ponders over what to do. Then she realizes, that perhaps, she could do both.

“Follow me, leave your pants off,” she taps your shoulder twice, slipping out of your hold.

She throws her shirt back over her head and walks upstairs. You follow her, naked and on slightly unsteady legs.

She leads you into the main bedroom. She has her work equipment set up on the desk in the corner. You watch as she goes into the closet, anxious to see what the woman was planning.

When she comes back she has a shoe box in hand. She sits it on the bed and beckons you closer before opening it.

“You’re going to fill me up while I work,” She holds up a harness, and you feel yourself getting warm at the thought.

She helps you put it on, attaching what you believe to be a slightly larger than usual dildo. She lubes it up before passing you to her office chair. She lightly pushed you down on top the seat.

You watch as she makes quick work of removing her pants. You lick your lips when you notice the wet spot she had in her panties.

Her hands hold the arm rests of the chair while you take her hips in your hand helping lower her on to the strap.

You focus on the way her breath hitches as she takes more and more of you. Once you’re all the way in she slowly rides you. The way her pussy opens around the cock has you mesmerized. You test your luck thrusting lightly into her, eliciting a light whine.

“I love the way you feel inside me,” she rolls her hips again.

Your hand move to rest on her stomach, while your head rests on her shoulder. You peer at the computer screen in front of you, vaguely posing attention to what she's working on.

“Are you going to be able to finish, like this?”

“The work or…”

You kiss her shoulder, “Both.”

She nods, “I think so. I just need you to move for me, slowly almost the same pace as your breathing. Build me up so I can cum on your fat cock. Can you do that for mommy?”

You carefully thrust inside her, “I can do that. “

You watch as she edits the document before her, following the pattern that she set. Soon it just becomes mindless as you push into her. She’s making a mess all over your thigh, but staying completely composed at the same time.

You have no idea how long you've say for when she finally finishes with the document. Her breathing becomes shallow and her head rest on the desk.

The change gives you a small concern, “Wanda?”

She maneuvers so that she’s facing you, the cock still buried inside of her waterfall of a cunt. Her eyes are closed as her forehead rests against yours.

“Fuck me,” she pleads. “Hard, fast, and sloppy.”

You lift her a but to give you some leverage. She takes a deep breath and that's when you begin pounding her pussy.

The rapid change in movements has the woman screaming into the room. The sound o of your skin slapping together, with the stickiness of her juices is delicious.

“Don’t stop, don't you fucking stop.”

Your breathing pick us as well, “You’re so hot like this mommy. Full of me, begging for more. I wish you could sit on my cock all day. I love having your pussy leaking all over my lap.”

“Oh shit,” she says as you begin to fuck her faster.

You take initiative forcing her to stand, before pushing her head down against the desk. Your legs are a little numb, but you know she's close so you fuck her into the table.

“That’s it baby, make mommy cum all over your cock. Make me your little cock slut. I'm yours baby, mommy’s all yours.”

It's unexpected when you feel yourself release at her words. The stutter in your movements is enough to send Wanda over the edge too. You can almost feel it as her cunt pulses on the dildo.

You move to take it out of her but she stops you, “Not yet, baby.”

You stay inside of her, placing scattered kisses over her skin. She eventually signals for you to pull out. She shutters at the empty feeling. You turn her around so you can kiss her properly.

Your lips find hers with a sensual passion. It’s slow and methodical when you nip at her bottom lip. She hold your face in her hands tenderly as you kiss.

“You’re so good to me,” she says with one final peck to your lips. “I want to take you out.”

“Like a date?”

“Ideally yes,” she plays with the hairs on the back of your neck.

You kiss her forehead, “Sounds good.”

The rest of the day passes by blissfully. You spend it with Wanda, just relaxing. The two of you talk and get to know each other better. She finally tells you about her childhood, which is where you find out where she’s from. The slip of her accent finally being explained. She tells you about her parents and her brother.

Before you could see what kind of person Wanda was, but now you felt like you actually knew her. It felt like more than just a physical attraction before, but now, you were sure.

Wanda knew a few things about you from what your father had told her, but not necessarily anything meaningful. You told her about your upbringing with a single father. The woes of navigating life semi-independently at such a young age. Your struggle with socialization and how Yelena was really there for you whenever you needed her.

You shared positive things too. The little pieces of mischief that you and Lena had got into as children. The fleeting, but bright memories you had of your mom. You talked about your passion for literature and meeting Kate at college.

It was nice having someone be interested in your life for once. Wanda also felt this was the first time someone had cared to know more about her in what seemed like an eternity. You both found yourselves enthralled with one another.

Similarly to your first outing together, you both fell asleep on the couch while something played on the TV. The only thing that woke you up was your phone ringing.

You reach to for it groggily with your eyes still closed.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, d-do you think you could come get us?”

Your eyes shoot open immediately. You check the time and it’s nearly 2am. Wanda is laying somewhat across your lap.

“Yeah Tommy, just send me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can. What happened?”

You stealthily move from the couch, careful not to wake Wanda.

“Billy and dad got into a huge fight. It got physical and I tried to step in, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

“He hit you?” It’s a challenge to keep your voice down as you head for the front door.

“No, but he hit Billy. It was a proper fight I had to get in between them."

You feel your jaw twitching, “Where’s Billy now?”

“He’s asleep, I just… I don’t know if we’re safe here. I know we just left but-”

You stop him, “Tommy, I told you to call me, didn’t I? I don’t care if you were still on the block, I’d come get you and it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’m glad you called me.”

“Thank you, I’m sending the address now.”

You type it into your phone, “I should be there in 20 minutes alright? Make sure you have your stuff and your brother’s stuff too. Do you know if your dad is still awake?”

“I think he’s asleep, but he’s a light sleeper. We should be able to get out though,” Tommy says.

“Good, I'm on my way. I’ll see you soon.”

The call ends after that. You take off, following the directions to the address. The speed limits seems more irrelevant by the minute.

You honestly can’t believe that Jarvis got into a fight with Billy, after he had just been scolded by Wanda. If he didn’t enjoy that, whatever happens after she finds out about this is going to be 10 times worse.

Honestly you wanted to get your hands on the man yourself. Who did he think he was putting his hands on Billy?

When you pull in front of the house you text Tommy. He responds saying they'd be right down. You keep the car running, watching the front door. You don’t wait too long before you see Billy and Tommy come out. They make it halfway through the lawn before the front door opens again.

“Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

You get out of the car, calling to Tommy and Billy, “Boys get in.”

They hurry to the car with their father chasing after them. You rush onto the lawn, blocking his path, while they hop in the car.

“What’re you even doing here? You can’t just take my kids, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Call the police? I’d bet they’d love to know that you’re hitting your kids.”

“How I discipline my son, is none of your business,” he glares at you.

Your jaw twitches, “Maybe it’s not my business, but we’ll see what Wanda thinks of all of this.”

He grabs a handful of your shirt, “You little unwanted shit.”

You shove him hard and he falls to the ground. You can’t resist the urge to kick him while he’s down. With one strong kick to his gut, you leave in his lawn, getting back in your car.

You don’ waste time driving away from his house. It’s quiet, with no one saying anything. When you catch a red light you look in the back, and gaso as you see Billy. He has a cut above his eyebrow and his right eye has swelling. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“He did that to you?”

“I got him pretty good too and I’m sure he’s feeling that kick you gave him,” he says smugly.

You crack a small smile, “Your mom is going to be pissed.”

“Do you think-”

“We have to tell her. Besides she’s going to see you, Billy. I wouldn’t be surprised if-”

Your phone starts ringing in the center console. You know it’s Wanda, you can just tell. You tell Tommy to answer the phone.

“Hi mom. Yeah, I called Y/n. Look can we just explain when we get there, it’s only like 5 minutes. Love you too, bye.”

He hangs up the phone.

“I was going to say I wouldn’t be surprised if she was awake,” you finish your sentence.

“Do you think she'll be mad we didn't call her?”

“No, I don't think that matters here. As long as your safe she would never be mad at you,” you level with both boys.

You can tell the boys are nervous when you park the car. The silence is loud and it has little to do with the fact it’s a little past 3am.

You don’t have the words to comfort them in the moment, but you’re certain everything will be ok. When you unlock the door, both boys try to rush upstairs. You grab both of them by the backs of their shirts.

The timing lines up to when the light turns on. Wanda doesn’t get a word out before Billy’s face is in her hands.

“Mom I’m fine,” he says as she pulls his face in multiple directions.

“What happened to you?”

Tommy speaks in his place, “Dad happened.”

“Jarvis did this to you?” There’s a slight disbelief in her voice.

“We got into a fight over my boyfriend and things escalated. Then when Y/n came in got us he tried to fight her too.”

Wanda has fury in her eyes and you take that as a sign to intervene, “Why don’t you guys go upstairs and get some rest? I think it’s best to talk about it when everyone is well rested.”

They look at their mother for conformation and when she nods they hurry upstairs.

“You, kitchen, now,” she says leading the way and you follow behind her. She waits for you to explain, her arms folded over her chest.

“Tommy called me and asked me to come get them. He said that things got physical between Billy and Jarvis. So I obviously went to pick them up.”

“Did he try to get physical with you too?”

You put your hand on your forehead, “I don’t know. He snatched me up by the shirt and I pushed him down, then kicked him in the stomach. I mean he could’ve just been trying to scare me off.”

“I’m going to have to call my lawyer. There’s no way I’m letting him anywhere near my kids again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up, it just seemed so urgent. I wasn’t even fully awake when I was talking to Tommy.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, for going to get them.”

The shift in her moods is understandable, but you’re still unsure of how to properly navigate it.

“I’m going to bed, maybe you should too. Lawyers aren’t typically taking calls this hour,” you give her a tight-lipped smile, leaving the kitchen.

“ Wait,” she stops you in your tracks.

You turn to face her and hardly have any time to process it as she wraps her arms around you in a strong hug. You hold her just as tight, rubbing soothing circles on her back. You kiss the top of her head.

“He’s okay. Everything’s going to be ok,” you mumble into her hair.

She takes a shaky breath, reluctantly leaving your arms, “Let’s go."

When you reach the top of the stairs, you let out a sigh. Now that the boys are back, you need to be more careful. That means you sleep in your room and Wanda sleeps in her’s.

With emotions running high both of you could use someone to lay with tonight, but it’s not in the cards.

Wanda kisses your cheek, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you watch her disappear into the master bedroom before heading to your own.

You get in tour bed, trying to stop your mind from racing. You think about Wanda, her kids, Jarvis, and your own father. It’s finally starting to hit you that you might be in over your head.

You shake the thoughts away, knowing only one thing to be true; Wanda was worth all of the hardship to come.

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #billy and tommy #yelena belova #kate bishop #cassandra lang #america chavez #eli bradley

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rafeshit · 6 months ago

Text

babydaddy!rafe x mom!reader

warnings — MDNI kissing, sexual acts, and tensionn :)

summary — you had a bad date and rafe picks you up on his motorcycle and things get tense

—

you sit across from your date, trying to force a smile as he drones on about his job as an accountant. The conversation has been stilted from the start, and you glance at your watch for what feels like the hundredth time. You're desperate to get out of here, but your brother topper is busy at work and you can't call him to rescue you like you normally would and your mother was babysitting baby wren, the child you had 3 months ago.

you have been going out on dates every weekend in hopes of finding a fitting father for wren, but anytime you would bring up your baby girl each guy would make a fatal mistake — they would not even consider or shied away from asking questions about the most important person in your life. Which is this dates mistake, he would only talk about himself and what he’s interested in. you needed to leave.

you quickly dial the number of your brother's best friend and your baby daddy, rafe as your last resort. You've only talked to him a few times since the birth of your baby, and that was much better than the no-contact you had with him during your whole pregnancy. the baby was purely a mistake and after some disagreements you had broken up because of his drug usage.

you were so stubborn with him that he hasn’t met his child since the birth. You knew you were wrong for that but you couldn’t trust him, especially with his drug problem but you would update him about her progress and he would beg to see her — to which you were never ready to do. But nonetheless rafe would prove he was clean by monthly drug tests, and if you were honest with yourself you knew it wasn’t just the drugs that was keeping him from wren. It was because you knew that if you saw your baby in his arms you would want him back.

rafe answers on the first ring, and you pray he can sense the urgency in your voice. "rafe, I need a favor. I'm on a really bad date and I need you to come get me." You try to keep your voice low, because you lied to your date saying you had an urgent call that needed to be answered.

"Yeah, I'm on my way. Where are you?" He quickly says. You tell him the name of the restaurant, trying to keep your eyes from meeting your date's annoyed gaze. You hang up the phone and you can tell your date is getting suspicious, and you don't want to make things worse. You try to make small talk, but it's clear he's not buying it. He's getting angry, and you're getting scared.

You wait, feeling more and more trapped as the minutes tick by. Your date seems to sense your restlessness and starts to get agitated, his voice rising as he complains about how rude you're being. You try to stay calm, but your trapped, and you need Rafe to get here fast. You glance around the restaurant, hoping to see him walk through the door, but he's nowhere to be seen.

Finally, you see Rafe pulling up on his motorcycle through the glass of the restaurant. You breathe a sigh of relief as he walks towards you, his eyes scanning the area searching for you. He's dressed in his usual striped t-shirt and jeans, and he looks like a guardian angel sent to rescue you from this nightmare. He spots you and quickly walks over to you, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asks.

You nod quickly, desperate to get out of there. "I'm fine, just want to go." Rafe nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he reaches out to take your arm.

That's when your date decides to intervene. He grabs your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. "Where do you think you're going?" he sneers. You feel a safe as Rafe's nearby, knowing he would protect you.

He shoves the guy off you, his arm coming between you and your date. "Touch her again and I’ll fuck up your face," he spat, getting the guy to back off. You let out a light gasp as Rafe turns to you, he offers a reassuring smile.

"Come on, let's go," he says, his voice softening as he looks at you. You nod as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out of the restaurant. You can hear your date yelling behind you, but you don't look back. You're safe now, thanks to Rafe.

You follow him to the motorcycle and Rafe hands you a helmet, you put it on and climb onto the back of the bike. Rafe gets on in front of you, and you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling the rumble of the engine beneath you.

before you guys speed off rafe utters, “how’s wren while your out here trying to catch some dick she could’ve been with me, learning who her father is.” you sigh, “she’s with her grandma and I was looking for a father not some fix.”

“why look when you have a perfectly good one here.” He says, revving the engine of his motorcycle. As you speed away from the restaurant, you look back and see your date standing alone in the parking lot, his angry face receding into the distance. the wind whipping through your hair and you cling to Rafes chest.

Your hands roam around his torso, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. You're acutely aware of the tension building between you. Rafe's hand brushes against your leg, ever so softly as he used to do when you guys dated. You glance at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road ahead. You can't help but squeeze him tighter, your grip on his chest growing firmer.

The bike turns into a driveway, and you look around, confused. This isn't your place. Rafe kills the engine, and he gets off the bike and approaches you. He takes off his helmet, then reaches out and removes yours, tossing it across the lawn with a carefree grin. he turns to face you. “this isn’t my place, what are you doing?” You asked.

"You can't touch me like that and expect me not to drive to my place," he says, you try to play it cool, but your words come out stuttering. "W-what?" Rafe takes a step closer, "Do you want me?" he asks. You try to say the right thing, but your mind goes blank.

"We shouldn't..." you trail off, knowing it's a weak excuse. Rafe inches closer, "That's not what I asked. Do you want me?" He says again. You try to deny it, to push him away, but your body betrays you. You nod, barely perceptible, and the word escapes your lips in a whisper. "Yes."

he take no time to lean in, his lips claiming yours in a sensual kiss. Your lips do not break apart as you he walks backwards towards the door of his house, fiddling with the doorknob until he manage to open it. He continues backing up, all the way to the couch in the living room. Your kisses are quick and intense as he tosses off his shirt.

He throws you on his lap and starts biting your lip in between kisses in the more pleasant way possible. His hands, roam from your neck to your back and then to your butt, which he squeezes with intensity.

You begin to grind against him, his hard on rubbing against your clit was only making it better. He tosses you onto the plush cushions beside you and slips off the couch angling his face in between your legs, he slides your lace underwear to the side and begins piping his fingers into you, in which you let out soft moans, taking in the feeling.

He uses his free hand to unzip his pants and begin stroking his dick at the same pace he's pumping his fingers into you. He beings to work his fingers faster and his tongue went to your clit, swirling at a prominent pace, matching the speed with how he is stroking his dick.

Your hands clutch his hair, gripping it with vice. His fingers begin to hit your cervix and your one pump away from comeing. Finally you feel the band in your stomach snap and body begins to shake. He gets up, pushing the tip of his dick into your cunt to come, his hands jerking the rest of his dick off as he pumps his warm come into you, painting your walls white.

Finally he comes to a stop and plops down on the couch next to you, zipping up his pants. "God, that felt so good, I’ve missed you so much." He breathes. You're still catching you breath when suddenly the door knob starts to fiddle and rafe quickly throws on his T-shirt and you slip your underwear to its appropriate place. The door opens and in walks your brother, topper. "Oh! Hey sis what are you doing here?" He asks, holding bags of Chinese food.

You stutter, "had a bad date and rafe picked me up." You innocently smile.

"Yeah we were just sitting here, chattin’" Rafe smiles. “I think we’ve came to an agreement that wren will be in my life a lot more.” he says looking to you for approval, you nod, thinking that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“im glad you two worked things out.” Topper places the Chinese food on the table and claps his hands together, "well who wants to eat!?" You look to rafe and he nods, and three of you enjoy egg rolls and rice.

this made me hungry ngl 🥲

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societyfolklore · 1 month ago

Text

Stolen Devotion – Part 3

Title: Stolen Devotion – Part 3

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: You don’t know he exists. But Bucky Barnes has been watching you- learning your patterns, your loneliness, your pain. What started as curiosity has turned into something deeper, darker. Ignore by your husband, dismissed by your mother, you move through life like a ghost. But Bucky sees you. Bucky understands you. And Bucky has decided you belong to him.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: / Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, Possessive/ Obsessive behaviour. Dub Con/Non Con (eventually), Dubious Morality, General dark themes, Emotional Neglect and Marital Issues, Stalking, Pinning, Masturbation, Voyeurism, depictions/thoughts of Oral Sex (Receiving) Eventual Smut

A/N: This currently doesn’t have a unload schedule.. updates will come when they come.. (I'm trying to do monthly...) "Read Your Diary" by Maneskin is the unofficial theme song for this fic!

He'd planned it. Spent all week working himself up for it, obsessing over the details like a soldier prepping for a mission. It had been too long since watching was enough. Too long since he felt like more than a ghost drifting through your life. He needed something real, a moment, a spark, a brush of something tangible to prove to himself that he existed to you, not just for you.

He had followed you to the shops that day, careful to keep his distance. He stayed just far enough ahead of you to blend into the background, a shadow among the shelves, his head down, his steps silent. Still, he heard you. Even from aisles away, he picked up on your voice, soft and strained through the phone. The way it trembled when you asked what he wanted for dinner. The practiced, resigned lilt as you nodded along to an answer that never really came.

You were being dismissed again. Brushed off with that same indifferent tone that always made Bucky's jaw clench. He heard your small sigh, the edge of weariness in your voice as you muttered, "I don't even know why I try anymore."

That had been it. That had been the moment Bucky couldn't take it anymore. The plan had been simple—a dropped can, something that would roll into your path and give him an excuse to kneel beside you. Close, casual, a moment crafted from coincidence. He had rehearsed what he might say. A line about the brand, maybe. Something to make you laugh.

But then you turned the corner. Walked right up to the shelf. Looked straight at him.

You’d smiled at him.

Just for a moment, just long enough for the corners of your mouth to twitch up, for your lashes to flutter as your fingers brushed his gloved hand while taking the can he’d already anticipated you'd ask for. He wished he hadn’t worn the gloves. Maybe then he’d have felt it,the warmth of your skin, the softness of your touch, the electricity that he was certain sparked between you both. It had looped through his head on repeat ever since. The small, almost-there smile, the tilt of your head, the way your voice sounded when you said, “Oh… yeah, thanks.”

But it was more than that.

You’d looked at him. You’d seen him.

The smile you gave him had been different from the one he’d seen months ago at the laundromat. That private flicker of joy when you'd been leaving coins behind for someone else. That one had been soft. Private. But this? This had been just for him. Because of him.

God. Every detail went through his mind, going over it over and over, each time Bucky found something new to focus on in his head. You’d smelled like jasmine and apples. That fresh, sweet scent had clung to the air even after you turned away. He was sure of it. Sure, too, that he’d heard your pulse quicken, a slight uptick, a change in rhythm. His enhanced hearing never lied.

You’d seen him. And something inside you had reacted.

But damn had that smile done something to him.

Now, sitting in the dark of his apartment, dinner untouched and going cold on the table in front of him, Bucky watched you again. The only light came from the flickering glow of his laptop, casting faint shadows across the room like ghosts whispering over his shoulder. Onscreen, the camera feed from your dining room played out in real time. There you were, framed in dull kitchen light, shoulders slightly slumped but trying to sit tall, sitting across from that man—your husband—who barely looked up from his phone while you spoke.

Bucky leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the heat of his stare burning through the screen. He could almost smell the faint trace of detergent from your shirt, remember the curve of your fingers from the grocery store. His eyes tracked every little shift in your expression—the effort behind your smile, the tension around your eyes, the hesitations between your sentences.

He had memorized every nuance. And still, each time he watched, he saw something new. Something heartbreaking. Something he wanted to protect you from more desperately than he could explain.

The silence in Bucky's apartment felt thicker tonight, more suffocating, like even the air knew something wasn’t right. His breath came slow and heavy, syncing with the flicker of light across your face as you spoke. You were saying something, your lips moving in that soft, hopeful way that made his chest ache. He couldn’t quite make out the words- and he didn’t need to. The tone said enough. The way your voice trembled at the edges, just slightly, like a leaf clinging to a branch in the wind. He could see it in your posture, the subtle lean forward, the way your hands fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. Eyes shining with the fragile hope that maybe- just maybe- this time, he’d care enough to respond. That he might meet you halfway.

But he didn’t. He never did. Your husband's attention stayed fixed to the phone in his palm, thumb scrolling like it was muscle memory, his face a blank canvas of indifference. Shoulders relaxed, spine slouched. Disinterested. Dismissive. Detached.

Bucky's jaw ticked. He reached for his fork, still untouched beside the cooling food, and clenched it tighter than he meant to. The metal groaned softly in protest, the tines bending beneath the pressure of his grip. It echoed the tension in his chest—warped, strained, barely held back. He hated how easily that man overlooked you. How he took your light and dulled it, flicked it off like a switch without even noticing.

“You don’t even see her,” Bucky whispered. “She’s right there, and you don’t even look up.”

He leaned forward in his chair, closer to the glow of the screen. The image was grainy, but he knew your expressions better than anyone now. The way you offered small things, shifted the placemat so it sat straighter, then nudged the salt shaker slightly toward him, smiled like it cost you something just to keep the peace. A little touch here, a thoughtful comment there. And still, nothing in return.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he said louder, the words sharp, dragged from somewhere deeper. His voice was low and rough. His thumb brushed over the edge of your image on the screen like it was delicate, sacred. Hovering, trembling slightly, as though he could press through and wipe that tired look from your eyes.

He imagined what it would be like to sit across from you instead. To really listen. To lean in and ask you questions about your day- not out of obligation, but because he wanted to know. To memorize the little inflections in your voice when you talked about school or music or those obscure books you liked. To nod and hum and actually hear you. He would run his fingers along the back of your hand as you spoke, trace the lines in your palm, anchor you to him with every small touch. He’d tell you how good the dinner smelled, how clever you were with spices, how proud he was of the little things you thought no one noticed.

He’d sit across from you and make you feel like you were the only person in the world.

The only one that mattered.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence with a sharp ping that made him flinch.

Sam: Dinner? Me and Steve are hitting up that burger joint near the bridge.

Bucky stared at the message for a second before typing back:

Can’t. Got a date.

Sam: A date? Damn. She must be something special to keep you from kicking it.

Bucky’s lips twitched.

She is.

But he didn’t type it. He just set the phone down and turned back to the screen, watching as you pushed one of the other condiments. Ignored again, trying so hard. You always did that. Little things. Thoughtful things. Things that no one else seemed to see. All towards people who did nothing but chip away at you, a slow erosion of that wonderful heart of yours. The one Bucky desperately wanted to be held in.

~#~#~#~#~#~

It was late when you did your laundry. Always was. Bucky had learned that pattern early on, noted the way you liked the quiet of near-closing hours, how you never quite looked anyone in the eye when you walked in with your basket. You moved like someone apologizing for taking up space. So he couldn’t be inside when you arrived. You’d spot him. And this had to be subtle, had to be perfect.

He got there early instead, long before the buzz of fluorescent lights and humming machines would be interrupted by your soft footsteps. He scoped the place like a crime scene, eyes darting between the cracked chairs and cheap plastic tables until he found it- your spot. Always the same one, just under the broken ceiling fan, beside the vending machine that half-worked. That’s where you waited, folding clothes or reading in silence, headphones in, foot tucked under your thigh like you didn’t plan on going anywhere for a while.

From the worn canvas bag at his side, Bucky pulled out the book. The next in the series you'd been devouring. He knew it was right because he'd found the receipt for the last one tucked between the tear-stained pages of your journal. You’d used it like a bookmark. It had been slightly stuck to a passage you’d underlined twice, something about longing, about being seen, about a character who just wanted to be chosen.

Bucky opened the new one, cracked the spine gently, thumbed through a few pages before pressing it closed again. He smoothed his palm over the front cover, dragged the edge along the table’s lip, creasing it just so, leaving behind faint signs of wear. Not too much. Just enough. He wanted it to look lived-in, like something someone had read halfway and left behind. Like the books in those little free libraries he passed on walks, tucked behind glass on neighborhood corners, book meant to be borrowed, taken without guilt. Anonymous. But still intentional.

He checked his watch. Almost time. As he moved to leave, headlights swept across the front windows. Your car. Your space. Right on time. His pulse quickened, but he didn’t even turn to look. He scooped up his own decoy bag of laundry, tugged the brim of his cap lower, and slipped out the door just as you got out of the driver’s side. His face never visible, his pace unhurried. Calm. Practiced. He could smell your shampoo even from ten feet away.

By the time you walked in, Bucky was across the street, tucked into the driver’s seat of his own car, eyes fixed on the windows of the laundromat.

He watched the way you moved, always with a little caution, like you didn’t want to take up space. You loaded your wash quickly, pressed the buttons, then turned toward your seat. And then you stopped.

A pause. A blink. He saw your eyes narrow in curiosity. You tilted your head. He could see the moment you noticed the book. The small bounce in your shoulders, the quiet, delighted stomp you did as you bent to pick it up. The way you ran your fingers along the spine, then glanced around, quick, suspicious and hopeful all at once. Like you half expected the previous owner to leap out from behind a dryer demanding it back.

Bucky’s chest tightened.

That smile returned.

Real. Unfiltered. The kind of smile you only wore when you thought no one was watching.

It spread across your face slow, like it surprised even you.

Bucky’s breath hitched.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered to himself. “I know what you need.”

You settled into your usual seat, already flipping open the book, completely unaware that the man across the street had orchestrated every detail.

It wasn’t a coincidence. It was a gift.

And Bucky already knew what the next one would be.

~#~#~#~#~#~

He had the hoodie tucked up under his jacket, snug against his chest. It freed his hands to touch, to drift over surfaces he wasn’t supposed to. Every movement deliberate, silent. He could feel its weight against his sternum as he moved through your house, a promise folded and waiting. It was soft and warm, but not nearly as soft or warm as you.

Bucky knew he could do better than just leaving it somewhere you'd pass by. This needed to feel like it had always been part of your home. Something you'd reach for without even thinking. Something that would wrap around your shoulders and remind you of safety.

Sure, he’d done it before- broken into your home. He remembered the first time clearly. The weight of the bag slung over his shoulder, filled with those tiny cameras he’d learned to hide in plain sight; ones small enough to fit inside the base of a lamp, tucked into the corner of an air vent, disguised behind a loose picture frame. There’d been adrenaline in his blood then, thick and hot, his nerves sparking with every creak of the floorboards. He’d moved fast that night, precise. Efficient. All mission.

But this… this was quieter. Closer. More intimate. This time he carried something else.

There was a thrill in it, an intimacy that watching couldn’t give him. Here, he could touch what you touched. Breathe what you breathed. In your space, Bucky felt more alive than he had in years, even as he drifted through it like a ghost, yet pulsing with every step. Every object was a breadcrumb back to you.

Your car was gone, just like it always was around lunch on Thursdays. You went to the library, a quiet escape from the study nook at home. The house was still, the kind of still that only happens when the day hasn’t quite leaned into afternoon yet. No traffic outside, no humming appliances, just the thick hush of lived-in silence.

The back door didn’t creak when he eased it open. He moved silently, reverently. His fingers brushed the side of the kitchen counter as he passed, trailing over the stone. He grazed the throw blanket tossed on the couch, the one you curled under when you couldn’t sleep. His palm smoothed over the table where you sometimes scribbled grocery lists. One still sat half-finished in a corner; Chicken, Cajun spice, milk, eggs, coffee, a question mark beside 'his beer'.

Then, upstairs. To the bedroom.

The wardrobe creaked softly as he opened it. A rush of your scent spilled out, jasmine and apples and warmth and it made his head swim. He exhaled shakily, a grin flickering over his face as he stepped closer. His hand moved across the hangers, pushing aside sweaters and hoodies until he found the one you wore too often: the one with the ratty cuffs, the stain that wouldn’t wash out, the little hole near the elbow.

You had other clothes. It wasn’t about money, not entirely. But you never spent it on yourself. You didn’t think you were worth it. And it wasn’t like your husband was rushing out to spoil you.

He hung the new hoodie up beside it, smooth and slate grey. He’d chosen it carefully. Not too flashy, not brand new looking just soft. Comfortable. He imagined you reaching for it without thinking one day. Shrugging it on like it belonged to you. Like he belonged to you.

"Can’t have you getting cold," Bucky murmured, fingers brushing the fabric. "Gotta take care of my girl."

The smile he wore as he closed the wardrobe doors was soft, secretive. The rush of your scent- surging out in one last breath- made his knees wobble.

He didn’t need to rush just yet. You wouldn’t be home for another fifteen minutes.

So he lingered. Touched more things. Ran his hand over the headboard of your bed, the spines of your books, the corner of the vanity. He trailed his fingers over a hairbrush, pressed a thumb to the small bottle of lotion beside your lamp. His eyes fell to your laundry basket in the corner. Clean clothes half-folded, still warm.

Something curled hot and desperate in his gut.

He stepped closer, heart pounding as he crouched by the basket. The smell of you was stronger here. More real. He pushed aside a folded T-shirt, then another, until he found what he wanted.

A pair of underwear. Worn. Soft. Still holding your warmth. He picked them up slowly, reverently. Pale blue, the cotton stretched just faintly along the waistband. The fabric thinned in places, worn not from neglect but use.

Bucky brought them to his nose and inhaled deep.

God.

You were everywhere in them. The sweetness of your body, the faintest trace of your arousal, clinging like perfume to the fibers. His lashes fluttered, eyes nearly rolling back from the sheer punch of it. It wasn't clean. It was you,exactly how he wanted you. Not the idea. The truth. The heat and the scent and the skin you'd pressed these against.

His head filled with images so vivid they felt like memories. You standing in front of him, bare thighs trembling, as he peeled your underwear down your legs slowly, reverently. The fabric catching for a heartbeat on the softness of your skin. The way your scent would spike when you were exposed, vulnerable, open only to him.

He imagined dropping to his knees. Pressing his mouth to you. Tasting the heat of you, dragging his tongue through your folds until you gasped, until you melted against his face, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still. He imagined the sound you’d make- the way he hoped you’d fist your hands in his hair, pull him closer, ride the pressure of his tongue.

A groan rumbled in his chest, low and broken, as his cock throbbed behind the zipper of his jeans. Just breathing you in like this made him ache. Made him hard. Made his head spin with hunger so sharp it bordered on pain.

He gripped the underwear tighter, fisting them in his hand like a lifeline. His knuckles whitened.

He’d return them eventually. Tuck them into your laundry pile next week. Let them slip back into your drawer like they’d never been missing.

But for now? He’d keep them with him. Sleep with them near his face. Let them soak into his pillowcase. Maybe it would help. Maybe he’d sleep better with your scent curled around him like a promise.

Something to hold onto.

Something that smelled like you.

He needed to leave.

The longer he stayed- and he wanted to stay- the higher the chances of getting caught. He wasn’t stupid. He was smarter than that. At least HYDRA had given him something worth being grateful for: the instincts to disappear. To be precise. To move like vapor and leave nothing behind but a thought.

Even if that thought was you.

He gave one last look around the room, fingers twitching like they didn’t want to let go. But he turned, hoodie planted, souvenir stolen, and ghosted back through your home with a reverence that bordered on sacred.

Being close to you was worth it. Every risk. Every stolen second.

Bucky closed the back door, making his way out through his practiced path, to the back shed, the far side, and over the fence into the block of homogenous townhouses. He wanted to get home, wanted to see how long it took before you found it, his most recent gift. That moment, your smile, your breath catching? He wanted to watch it happen.

Sam and Steve wanted to meet him for dinner. He couldn't blow them off twice in a row, not with them starting to ask too many questions.

And honestly?

He wasn't sure how he'd explain you to them.

Though he was sure they'd love you.

How could they not?

You were perfect.

He'd just have to find a way.

TAGS:

@fizzypeachhh, @vxllys, @aceofheartsssss, @ruexj283 @yesiamthatwierd, @trojanaurora, @hextech-bros

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gothwineaunts · 8 months ago

Note

I don't want to make you feel guilty about it but do you have any updates about Shiloh?

Don't worry, I've been wanting to tell y'all what's up with Shiloh for awhile now! I just want to start with the disclaimer that I don't really have what I'd call "news" on it. It's in limbo at the moment, but for good reason. When you sign on with Webtoon you agree to give them digital exclusivity for a period of time. This is so you can't go and post your series somewhere else, because ofc webtoon wants readers to only be able to read it on their app. This is all fine, like it's all above-board, normal stuff. But as a result there's a span of time where you cannot post the series anywhere else, even if the series is finished. I don't wanna get too specific, but a few years. You've probably heard about Let's Play, right? How Mongie left the platform? The reason she can't immediately start posting Let's Play somewhere else, is because of this same thing. She, like all the other webtoons that leave or are canceled, needs to wait until the term is up before she can continue elsewhere. The clock on this resets whenever you post a new episode. So it's not like episode 1 is okay to post somewhere else before episode 10 is, it's the whole series or nothing. So with all that said. Shiloh's almost to the end of this term, and past a certain point we felt it no longer made sense to try to post S3 as a webtoon original because the moment we post even one episode, we'd have to wait all these years over again if/when we left. There's also been some writing on the wall for a minute that webtoon isn't keen on renewing Shiloh after S3, so there was also a possibility we'd come back, just to be canceled. And honestly that's alright with us, we have thought for some time now that Shiloh is better suited to a longer monthly issue release rather than shorter weekly ones, just with the genre it is. And besides, we wouldn't be able to keep up with webtoon's mandated weekly schedule while we're working on Nevermore at the same time. So TLDR; when Shiloh comes back it won't be as a webtoon original. But I'm not sure what it'll look like yet. Could be on canvas. Could be on patreon as like a free/fastpass sort of route, potentially. We know we want people to be able to read it for free no matter what. But the details are all sort of a toss up at the moment, because we still have a little more time to wait before we can do anything anyway. I'm sorry if that's not a very satisfying answer! It's why I've been dragging my feet on a proper announcement, because I don't have any hard dates or plans for y'all yet. But we have not abandoned Shiloh! It's been in deep freeze, but intentionally. And with plans to return at some point. We won't be abandoning it, it's a huge passion project for us. <3

#red post #shiloh #shiloh webtoon

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earlysunshines · 3 months ago

Text

secret rhymes - 53. just the two of us (written)

a/n: i have not written in ten years oh my

aside from being lost on the last song of your album, your life has been pretty great.

you and hanni have been talking more. it started with a few calls after the night you both cleared the air, soft check-ins that slowly turned into long conversations stretching past midnight about anything, everything, and nothing. sometimes you'd be fine just listening to the occasional hum or breath that gets caught on facetime, and that's enough for both of you.

occasionally you'd regret staying up past midnight—the groans in the morning and the slight headache always make you second-guess calling so late. but you like exchanging small updates on what's new; you tell her about a song you've been stuck on, and she tells you about an embarassing trainee moment she still hasn't lived down.

(you nearly snort, "you cursed at the evaluator?"

"i wasn't trying to! i just- ugh! i saw her for the next monthly evaluation and it was so... grueling..."

hanni catches your toothy cackle and the way you fall on your bed from how hilarious her story is, which makes her eyes soften. she falters for a moment, not that you notice, but it's a tidal wave in crashing in her heart.

"you're so cute, it's crazy. i'd kill to go back in time and witness you do that again."

"you're the worst person i know."

"sure, pham." you snicker. there it is, that shake of your head through the screen that leaves hanni a little weak. something churns in her stomach and it has her hoping you feel the same way she does.)

you don't even realize how often you've been seeing hanni until yunjin teases you for showing up to hybe under the pretense of "visiting her," when it's obvious your feet are already turning toward newjeans' practice room.

it's become kind of a joke—"how's my name still the excuse when i'm the one getting ten-minute visits?" yunjin grins. you roll your eyes but don't deny it.

you and hanni have a rhythm now. sometimes, she's still in rehearsal when you arrive—her schedule has been quite packed with her upcoming comeback—and you'll wait outside her room with her favorite tea, leaning against the wall while listening to the muffled beat thumping from inside. she'll spot you through the mirror and beam mid-dance, cheeks flushed, waving with one hand while mouthing something like "wait a bit!"

other times, she's already waiting for you after you've blessed yunjin with your ten-minute-long visits. she's usually perched on a bench in the hall with a sly smile, saying, "took you long enough," even though you're the one who texted on my way minutes prior.

once, she grabbed the end of your hoodie as you passed by just to say, "you look really good today," before flashing a smile that takes your breath away momentarily and disappearing around the corner like nothing had happened. it's not difficult for her to leave you standing alone in the halls with your heart skipping a beat and a grin on your face.

it's been a few months, but little moments make it seem like you've known hanni much longer. a brush of her fingers against yours when she hands you her phone. her shoulders bumping into yours as you walk down the corridor, neither of you bothering to move away. a laugh too soft, a glance that lingers a second longer than it should. you haven't labeled anything, not like you would dare to, but the air between you thickens with the tension from what you two are way too scared to admit.

more than friends, less than lovers, and together two people who are too scared to do anything about it.

you're finished with all the communication that was needed to organize a music video shooting, and only one song is left to finish up your album. there's a lot of stress from all the preparation and technical stuff, but it would've been way worse without the daily texts and calls from hanni.

the past month after settling things, you've filmed music videos, tweaked a few songs here and there, and of course tried your best to finish your last track.

hanni has also let you know that she's been pretty stressed herself with preparing for her own comeback. she rambles on about how she's iffy on one song's choreo because it's far from her style, but you make sure to let her know she's going to do great. you two are each other's rock.

after the last day of shooting your title track, you barely make it to your bed before collapsing face-first into the comforter, limbs heavy and sore from the music video shoot (which required much more physical activity than you thought it would).

it's quiet—yujin's been staying with her girlfriend every other day, so it leaves you alone some nights—but the sound of your phone buzzing somewhere in your jacket sleeve breaks the silence. you fish it out, sighing tiredly before you light up at the sight of hanni's name glowing on the screen with a simple: home yet?

you text back a lazy "yeah, just got here," and almost instantly, she calls. you flip the phone on, speaking and drop it beside your head, setting the back of one hand on your forehead as you stare up at the ceiling. you're tired, tired enough to where you can't really budge, but not too (or ever) tired to hear her voice.

she asks how you are, you do the same with all your energy, and there it goes—the conversation flows easily.

"minji knocked off danielle's claw clip by accident during practice today," hanni says, tone warm and amused. "it like, flew across the room! danielle looked so betrayed, she was soooo dramatic, i love her so bad. we laughed for like five minutes straight, i swear my abs were forming."

a tired laugh escaped your lips. "i'm glad you guys had fun."

there's a littel pause, and then hanni's voice softens. "you sound tired."

"yeah... physically," you murmur. your gaze blurs over the ceiling as your mind wanders. "but other than that i'm just..." you train off for a second before adding, "i've been wanting to see you more. not in hallways or between practices when i visit. just—like, you and i. no one else. i think i miss that."

the line goes quiet and you think for a second the call might've dropped. have you said too much? you must be way too tired—

hanni's soft inhale interrupts your spiral. "you can't just say that out of nowhere," hanni says, her voice quieter than usual, laced with surprise.

a sleepy smile tugs at your lips. "sorry, but i do mean it." you exhale slowly, smiling to yourself. "do you think you can sneak out? we don't even have to do anything. i just want to be somewhere else, together."

there's silence again, but not the bad kind. you swear you can hear a smile in her voice when she responds, "if you're asking then... yeah."

it's just five minutes past eleven when you find yourself jogging down the dim sidewalk toward hanni's dorm, hoodie flapping behind you while you hold onto your cap. there wasn't a clear plan, just that you'd be at her place, and here you are.

waiting by her building at this hour felt more peaceful than anything else had in weeks.

she slips out minutes later in a hoodie and slides, the soft sound of her laugh cutting through the silence when she sees you. "you look like you just ran here."

"maybe because i did, idiot." you say, out of breath, matching her smile as you both start to walk down the street side by side.

the convenience store is still open, a small space of flickering fluorescent lights and soft american pop on the radio. you wander in, grabbing a bag of coffee and a cup of ice to put it in, then pay quickly.

"seriously?" hanni raises a brow. "you're gonna dose yourself with caffeine at this hour?"

you shrug, pouring it into the cup without a care. "grandma, it's the only thing keeping me up."

she snorts. "grandma? i'm the one keeping you alive."

"caffeine at night won't kill me, loser."

"maybe i will before it does." she says, earning a snicker from you in response.

eventually, the two of you stumble upon a little playground tucked between apartment buildings, empty except for the creak of the swings and the rustle of tree leaves planted nearby. both of you climb up the platform of the jungle gym, legs dangling, shoulders brushing. it's quiet there, peaceful, with only the slight hum from the city around you.

for a while, you just talk about whatever. work. music. hanni tells you about a weird dream she had the night before about a haunted sink. you tell her about the time you accidentally went live with toothpaste on your chin. you guys both giggle, and it's light, easy. but then the conversation dips to romance in regards to the album you've been working on.

"do you think you'll ever fall in love?" she asks, her voice soft now.

the question hits you like a bullet train. you exhale through your nose, looking up at the sky. "after lauren... i kind of gave up on it for a while, but it was easy to romanticize stuff, especially as an artist." you begin, leaning back more comfortably as you sip on your coffee. "i got tired of believing in it the more that relationship went on, i think."

she hums, barely nodding, but you can feel her listening.

"but..." you tilt your head to look at her. she's already looking at you and the moon casts a slight glow in her eyes. "then this girl came into my life out of nowhere, literally. she's annoyingly good at everything, pretty, genuine, and i think of her all the time now. i don't know... it's hard not to be in love with someone like her." your eyes flicker toward her, catching the soft surprise written across her face. "really hard, actually."

there's a stillness between you and hanni now—not awkward, but delicate.

"what about you?" you ask quietly, eyes on hers as you swallow lightly. "have you ever been in love or anything like that...?"

hanni hums, thoughtful. "i don't think so," she says after a moment. "i never had time to htink about stuff like that. crushes came and went, and they were... nice, i guess. fleeting. but nothing like this." her voice dips softer at the end, barely legible.

you make sure you're not making things up in your head. "nothing like what?"

now you two are staring at each other—your eyes are slightly widened from surprise and hanni's can't decide whether they should stay on your lips or eyes. she turns her head slightly, meeting your gaze in the dim glow of a streetlamp filtered through the trees.

"nothing like how i feel right now," she confesses, "with you."

there's a pause. like the wind holds its breath and the world freezes completely.

"i think about you all the time, even when i try not to. when i'm busy, tired, or when i'm supposed to be focused on something else—you're still there in my mind. and that's never happened before."

you stare at her, heart loud in your chest, loud enough that you swear she must hear it.

"hanni," you shift a little closer, shoulder pushing into hers ever so slightly. "i really like you."

you two gulp simultaneously as your bodies shift to face each other a bit more.

with more certainty, you continue, "i've tried to talk myself out of it a hundred times. told myself it wasn't a good idea, or that you wouldn't feel the same, but..." you exhale, a small laugh escaping in an attempt to calm your pounding heart. "for the past month's there's been nothing on my mind but you. just you. always you."

stillness settles in the gap between you two, the gap that decreases with each second as your faces inch closer.

and then she leans in—slow, hesitant, but sure—and you meet her halfway. the kiss is gentle and cautious as you two test the waters. her lips are warm, soft, and they taste like the strawberry tea she had earlier.

you deepen the kiss and it feels like exhaling after holding your breath too long. it's less careful now, something familiar like you were meant to kiss her like this. her hand settles on your neck just under your jawline and you swear you melt.

she pulls back, but not far. her nose brushes against yours as she settles her other hand on your jawline, her thumb just by your ear. her touch is warm, you'd let her hold you like that for as long as she'd like.

"i've wanted to do that for a while," she whispers.

"me too," you smile, a little dazed. "i like this a lot."

your hand snakes to the back of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss. you feel her smile into you, and you do the exact same.

masterlist ; previous - next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @layonaiguess @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy @keiji-jin @awkwardtoafault @syronns @linnnsworld @inybits @ynwrites @wonyoungssi

#kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader #njz x reader

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ms-demeanor · 3 months ago

Text

More workmusing incoming.

(updated with more info)

I'm trying to figure out whether a problem that I'm stumbling across is incompetence or embezzling.

I don't *think* it's embezzling, and there's enough general incompetence floating around that it's totally possible that people just straight-up don't know about this problem.

The issue that I'm having here is with the escalation chain. My direct manager is the previous person who oversaw the current pile of dogshit that I'm poking at, and I have no idea what's going to happen if I present my findings to him alone.

I'm wondering if it's worthwhile to ambush him and his manager in a meeting we're all in together instead of just sending the info to only my manager.

I'm wondering how exceptionally shitty it would be for me to BCC my grandboss if I send this as an email.

I've already asked my direct manger for permission to throw a ton of time into investigating this because I think this is probably something that the exec team would want to have as priority 1, but if he says "no, that's not a big deal" do I just trust him that there's a solution in the works or do I go around him?

I am also not poking at this dogshit under anyone's orders, it is dogshit that is peripheral to a recurring process that I'm now overseeing.

But long story short, on a monthly basis we're charging clients $600 for something that costs us $800. Not total; per client. It's costing us thousands of dollars each month.

It is very weird to me that I have found something that seems that egregious and I'm waffling about telling my manager and am worried about being reprimanded if I tell somebody else.

There is another manager who is not actually my manager, and I know this, but it would be nice to get advice from someone who is not in the direct chain of command so in a private conversation I basically asked him what he would do in this situation and his comment was "I'm not your manager so that's not my problem" and. Yeah. I know that. I get that, my guy. I'm asking for advice or some guidance or some shit; you've been here longer than I have, you get paid more than I do, and you've known my manager for twelve years.

The second guy is very raw that he wasn't picked to be a manager and he got put on the management team only after someone quit very suddenly and we needed to fill a gap. He says he wants to be a manager, he wants responsibility, but if anybody asks him for help or advice he's just like "not my problem, figure it out" or (literally his favorite answer) "I don't care." He's salty that people aren't describing him as part of the leadership team and that the execs aren't putting any faith in him as a manager but. MY GUY. MY DUDE. BUD.

Like, I get that if I drop these problems and just let whatever happens happen that's kind of shitty, but it literally isn't my job. I'm very much a cog in the machine and I can get away with "well nobody told me to do that/it wasn't assigned to me/that's not my department" if I want to. But I didn't ask to be made a manager, and I certainly didn't get that pay bump. I am so deeply annoyed at this guy whining that he's not being respected as a manager while I'm watching him refuse to do anything outside of what he's been explicitly instructed to do.

___________________________

Basically we know what we're charging customers, but we don't know what we're paying for the services we're charging them for.

Let's say that someone has the Teapot Polishing Bundle, which includes teapot polish, paint touchups, ceramic wax, stain remover, and we've recently added a handle shine and spout grouting.

An example client has signed up for 100 of the polishing bundles each month, and I'm looking at what services they're actually getting.

They've got 100 bundles, but they're using 130 pot polishes, 70 paint touchups, 60 bottles of ceramic wax, and 100 stain removers. They're also using 115 handle shines and 200 cases of spout grout, but we never added the cost of the latter two services to the package.

There are two massive problems with this bundle:

I can't adjust the individual service counts to get an accurate picture of how much the client is actually using (and therefore how much they are actually costing us) (basically I have to do license counts every month and the only accurate count of all services is in my excel document from month to month and TODAY I realized we're not billing for two of these services)

We need to be charging for the two added services.

So the assumed cost of the bundle is $8 per teapot, but the services they're actually using when broken down are costing us $12 per teapot, and the client has a big discount for the bundle overall (60% off the normal price, which is true for a couple dozen of our clients) so we're only charging them $10 per teapot for the bundle.

for THIS customer, and customers with the same discount, we're losing money. It's totally possible that we have a different subset of customers who are being overcharged for services that are no longer included in their bundles.

________________________________

Also the first time I did this count was February, I did it with supervision in March, and this is my first time doing it all alone, and both the previous months I got told "we'll worry about the miscounts later" by my boss and the exec who used to do the count. There is a vague awareness that the counts are wrong, but this is the first time I've done math on it and I'm not sure if I'm going to have clearance/approval to do the same level of detailed analysis for the bundles for people outside the group of 15 clients (we have about 300 clients)

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shahaddahlan0 · 2 months ago

Text

"About some dreams that faded!!"

From the peak of strength to the depths of despair. I once built bodies, now I'm lost, hungry, homeless and searching for a handful of safety… but my spirit still fights. !!

My name is Shahad Dahlan, I am thirty years old, married to the kindest and most beautiful person in the world, my love “Hassan”, and on the twenty-third of next November we will have spent the most beautiful ten years together, full of love, loyalty and sacrifice. I will say that we “used to” live in our small house in a small village called Al-Qarara. This area is located between the city of Khan Yunis and Deir al-Balah, in the middle opposite what is known as the cursed Kissufim checkpoint. But now we are trying to stand firm between its destroyed walls and the surrounding rubble, but it’s okay, we are still alive and there is still hope.

My husband and I had a beautiful love story. We loved each other sincerely, and that always gave me a sense of comfort and security. Finding the right partner for your life is a rare and precious thing. We’re close in age he’s 34, and I’m only a few years younger.

We don’t have children yet, but there’s a story I find strange that happened precisely around this time last year. I shared it with one of the previous updates alone, as it deserves its own story.

Despite our differences in some hobbies, we were very compatible. Even those around us said we looked alike! Haha.

I’m a naturally moody and energetic person, and I love life in all its details. What captivated me most was the morning; I loved it in all seasons. I loved waking up to the sound of birdsong and contemplating the sky when it was blue, dotted with piles of white clouds that looked like pieces of cotton. It made me feel like my day would be full of energy, full of the beautiful things I love, and full of life.

I had a great time, reading, singing sometimes, and playing my simple guitar, which I’d learned to play on YouTube. I wasn’t a professional, but I enjoyed it when I was bored. I also always listened to music, and I loved it loud and clear! I loved pop music, and I had a complete sound system in every corner of the living room. Music, for me, wasn’t just a hobby; it was essential, as if it ran through my blood! Like something administered intravenously! Hahaha.

I spent most of my day alone, which wasn’t a bad thing at all; I saw it as a valuable time to myself. My husband worked in interior design and decoration, which he had always been creative at. I don’t deny his amazing talent.

He would go out every day from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.

As for me, six years earlier, I had finished my university studies in physical education and sports. My plan that kept coming to mind after university was to go to Egypt and pursue postgraduate studies, perhaps even a PhD in physical education. You never know, maybe I would have achieved something big in the future.

After completing university, as you know, employment opportunities in Gaza are extremely scarce, but I didn’t sit idly by.

I participated in numerous courses in my field, such as gymnastics and karate. I hated only one thing: swimming, to the point that I failed the swimming subject twice. I would pass the theoretical part and fail the practical part, Lol.

I joined various teams: baseball and volleyball. A group of my classmates and I were nominated to the Sports Academy and the Palestinian Volleyball Federation to referee volleyball after participating in specialized refereeing courses. We participated in events and matches held at the schools and universitys levels.

I worked part-time in several clubs and gyms, and I was also employed on a monthly contract within UNRWA programs at children’s summer camps. I also received numerous certificates, awards, medals, and shields.

You may be surprised when I tell you that I worked in a field completely different from my specialty “three years before the war.” I was hired to write content, edit, and publish. Yes, although this wasn’t my specialty, I enrolled in several writing and freelance courses and passed the job test and interview. I knew I had a talent for writing content and expressing myself.

When I received the email informing me that I had been accepted for the job, I felt as if I owned the whole world! It was a precious and unforgettable moment. I worked in this field for more than two years, rotating between writing scientific content, international news, and sports, in addition to editing. I then obtained proofreading and publishing licenses. I felt as if I was advancing step by step, as if I was being promoted!

Although my work was partly in the office, I completed it from home, sitting for hours in front of my personal computer. I never felt bored. I would put on my headphones, turn up the music, and start writing. For me, there is no accomplishment without music. That’s who I am.

This was my favorite job, and the last one I had before the war. I will never forget the office where I worked, or rather belonged to. It was called “palteam.” I had a wonderful time there, learned a lot, and enjoyed the company of my colleagues. It was an enriching job in every sense of the word, in addition to providing me with a good income.

But the war came and changed everything. That world became a thing of the past, perhaps even impossible.

I don’t know, my friend…

Yes, I had many hobbies that I wished to pursue freely, and dreams that I was waiting for to come true, or at least to be fulfilled. But Gaza wasn’t the most suitable place for them. I don’t know if it was the occupation that tries to rob us of even the air we breathe, or the restrictions imposed by customs, traditions, and religion.

I won’t hide the truth: I don’t abide by these restrictions much, especially when it comes to my life and hobbies. I’ve always given myself the right to live as I please, to experience life as I see it, especially since I’m still in the prime of my youth.

I love skating. I learned it from a young age. My mother made sure to provide me and my brother, who is a year younger than me, with skates. It’s been our favorite sport since we were little. I usually love all kinds of sports, anything that involves movement and excitement. Even my mind is full of thoughts. That’s why I think I might suffer from Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) in some way! I love cycling and have participated in many races here in Gaza. They used to organize an annual youth marathon, along with many other events recently, all held on Rashid Street in the port area.

There were a large number of young men and women participating together… We had begun to live, breathe, and dream.

But it seems the occupier doesn’t even want us to breathe. !! 💔

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , ( #502 ) & @bilal-salah0

GAZA 🇵🇸🍉🌿

#free palestine #fuck trump #free gaza #books #lgptqia+#lgbtq+#gym #lgparts #reading #spotify #Spotify

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xoxoavenger · 4 months ago

Note

Bucky request feel free to pick and choose parts but here’s my idea: Avengers mandatory bonding exercises, this time you’re put on opposite a team from Bucky. And the game is basically paintball/laser tag, but close combat is allowed. You’re a skilled marksmen specialized in sniping, but not the best with close combat. So you find yourself a spot and scope in to, and snipe away. You catch Bucky in your sights and instead of hitting the target on his chest, you playfully and purposefully miss to try to instigate him. This turns into a game of cat and mouse where he chases after you for close combat and you try to evade him (which may or may not work out for you) etc :)

sorry this took so long, between work and school I was really going thru it lol. i love this prompt, it reminds me of the hating game which is one of my fav romcoms! thanks for requesting

Saturday Plans

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

word count: 1972

warnings: none

masterlist

"And what if we had plans on Saturday?" Y/N asks as she looks at the bottom of the paper that had been handed out to everyone at the monthly Avengers team meeting. Usually, they just talked about their personal goals, their updates, any team missions that they may have participated in. But there, at the end of the agenda, it says Mandatory Bonding Exercise, Saturday 10 AM.

"Do you have plans Saturday?" Tony asks from the front, and Y/N just knows that he agrees with her but was told off by Fury before the meeting.

"Well, not yet, but this can really prevent me from that." She says, watching Steve sigh.

"We'll be doing paintball, and it is mandatory. There will be no excuses." He looks pointedly at Y/N, then the rest of them.

"I'm finding an excuse." Y/N whispers as Steve begins to talk again, looking at Bucky sitting next to her. He smirks, looking up at Steve and Tony as if he's actually paying attention.

"When you figure it out, let me know so I can follow." He says lowly, and she smiles as she rocks in her chair.

She's getting out of this exercise.

Saturday morning comes around, and every single one of Y/N's excuses have been dismissed by Steve. She said she was sick, that she had extra work from Fury. She even tried telling him that she was going on a classified mission, but Steve saw through every single one. She wanted to scream.

"Couldn't figure it out?" Bucky asks when she gets into the truck that Steve was driving to the paintball center Tony rented out for the day.

"Shut up." Y/N grumbles, pissed that she's going to waste a perfectly good Saturday playing a stupid game with the Avengers.

"So I'm assuming your skills are going to be used solely on Steve?" Bucky asks, and she perks up as the idea floats around in her head. She's the best on the team with guns, and she knows she'll be the star of whichever team she's on.

Of course, Steve already thought of this, and she's on his team. She raises her hand and asks what would happen if someone were to 'accidentally' hit a teammate, and Steve informs her that she will be benched from missions for two months if any blue paint makes its way to his clothing. They all know she's far too skilled to accidentally get paint anywhere but where she wants it to be, so any blue paint from her will be intentional.

"It's not just me." She says, even though everyone knows that it is just her who will be going after teammates.

"Fine. If anyone shoots someone with the wrong color, you're benched." Tony is over this shit already, and Y/N's sure he's already created a gadget to help him not get hit. Everyone makes their way over to the area with all the gear, and Y/N does not seem very happy as she goes.

"I can hit him extra for you." Bucky says with a smirk as they put on the required vest to protect them from the harsh paintballs. She shoots him a glare as she zips up the vest, then grabs one of the blue paint guns. Bucky grabs a red one, and then fiddles with the extra paintball cartridge next to it. "How much would you pay me for these?" He asks, and she rolls her eyes.

"How about you give them to me and I promise not to hit you an embarrassing amount?" She offers with a sweet smile, and he cocks his head with furrowed brows.

"Doll, you couldn't hit me if I was standing in an open field." He shoots, and she actually feels offended by this. Her mouth drops, eyebrows rising, and she knows that Steve will be safe from her wrath because every single paintball in her gun is going to hit Bucky.

"I bet by the end of this, all 50 of these paintballs are going to be decorating your body." She says, and he has the audacity to laugh.

"You're not even gonna hit me once." He says, putting the cartridge back on the shelf and walking to rejoin his team. "But I'll enjoy watching you try." He says, and Y/N can only fume silently as she watches him walk away.

"I sense he may have made a grave error." Natasha says as she comes up to Y/N's side, smirking as she watches the two.

"I don't think he's ever gone on a mission with me." Y/N says with a small smile, getting over her shock from his audacity.

"You'd be correct." Natasha can barely keep from laughing, because she loves to see the boys getting humiliated by the girls. "Come on, I already told Steve about your vendetta." Natasha nods back to their group, and Y/N finally tears her eyes from Bucky's backside.

"He's probably just glad I won't be hitting him." Y/N says, and now Natasha does laugh.

"Estatic."

They have an hour out on the field, and Y/N's pretty sure none of the Avengers were even listening to the safety instructor. All Y/N can think of is the blue paint she's about to cover Bucky in, and she actually smiles when the red team wins the coin toss and gets to go to the field first. She hopes there's objects out there big enough to hide even Bucky, but she's honestly not sure even those will save him. As soon as the blue team is allowed outside, she's in full combat mode, and Bucky is the only one in her sights.

It takes her a couple minutes to find him, and she knows the rest of the red team is relieved that she's only focused on him. She watches Sam run in front of her, trying to shoot, but she told Bucky all 50 of her paintballs are going on him, and she's not letting that go. All she has to do is aim her gun, and Sam trips over his feet and crawls over to one of the stacks of tires.

She's actually impressed by Bucky, that is until she narrowly avoids a red paint ball that splatters against the tree she was against and paints her hair with how close it was. She looks over to where it came from, and while Bucky was hiding well, she can see the reflection from his metal arm in the sun against a barricade. She sees the tall, thin wooden wall, and she knows he has to be behind it. She moves as quiet as she can, she climbs the tree. She makes it high enough to stand on one branch and rest her arms on a higher one, creating a perfect rest. Bucky turns from behind his wall, probably looking to see if she's still there. She aims her gun, and due to her angle, she decides to hit the wall on the other side of Bucky, right next to his arm.

Bucky, to his credit, doesn't jump as high as she thought he might. He does startle, but he can't figure out where the shot is coming from. She knows he's not expecting her to be in a tree, but he's gonna figure it out soon. He looks around, gun raised, then comes out of hiding to try to find her. That's when she hits him square in the chest, not once, but three times. Bucky immediately lifts his gun to her spot, and she narrowly avoids falling all the way down as she climbs to the other side and drops to her feet. She turns to see where he's at, hoping to get another shot in, but then he's shooting her arm. She hisses, because there's no protection there, but then whips around with her gun up. He's already closing in though, so she only gets one shot on his leg before he swipes her gun out of the way.

Fuck.

She may be the best on the team with guns, but she knows she's lacking when it comes to close combat. She knows how to fight, but being a sniper she usually doesn't have to. She quickly ducks, knowing he's going to try to grab her, and then straightens to kick his gun out of his hand. It falls to the floor, and she huffs at him.

"It's paintball, James. What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She asks, but then he's coming at her again, swinging so lightly she can stop it with her own fist. "Seriously? This is embarrassing." He's smiling, though, and she has no idea what's going through his head.

They start to fight, even though the whole point of paintball is literally to hit each other with paint. She knows she needs to get away, so the second Bucky throws another light punch, she ducks and runs to where their guns were. She slides in the leaf covered dirt and snatches a gun, pointing it up at Bucky, who now has his hands up a couple yards away from her.

"You don't wanna do this." He says, but she just smirks.

"Oh, yes I do." She smiles and pulls the trigger.

She doesn't realize it until it's too late, but Bucky's chest is now also painted in blue. She fired his gun, and Steve said that if anyone fires the wrong color, they're benched. She knows that she didn't mean to, but Steve is gonna think that she was going after him, and she can't even be upset at that because she did want to hit Steve.

"You set me up!" She yells, even though it sounds ridiculous. Bucky couldn't have known she was going to grab his gun.

"How would I even do that?" Bucky asks with a smile, and she throws the gun as she stomps over to him.

"I don't know, but you've been all sneaky all day." He walks backward as she pushes him, the smile never leaving his face.

"We're playing paintball. Of course I've been sneaky." He says, and it makes her even more mad.

"I didn't even want to be here! Why are you making this so difficult?" She asks, and now his face drops.

"I wasn't trying to." He says simply, backed up into the wooden wall that he had been originally hiding behind.

"Then what were you trying to do?" She cries, and it's silent for a second before he surges forward, kissing her. One hand is behind her head, the other hesitating at her side. She wastes no time in throwing her hands around his neck, pushing him into the wall even more as her body slides against his. They don't need to break for air, not with the way Bucky is moving against her, his thumb sneaking under her vest and shirt to touch her skin. They're brought back to life by two shots, hitting each of them in the arm. Y/N turns a murderous glare on the person, because they hit her right where Bucky had hit her earlier. The bruise she was gonna get would be horrible.

"Seriously?" She turns to see Sam standing there, staring at them with a frown.

"Did you have to shoot us?" Y/N asks, looking over at her arm.

"I'm on your team." Bucky says, and Y/N's eyes widen as the gears start to turn in her head.

"Sam shot Bucky!" She screams, and Sam's eyes widen as he follows her when she starts to run to the main section.

"Wait!" Sam shouts over Bucky's laughing.

Y/N's a little pissed when Sam doesn't get benched and Steve tells her that he rule really only applied to her, but when Bucky slides his hand into hers on the way to the cars, she doesn't mind the switch in rules anymore.

tags:

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @thefandomplace @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes

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velvet-cupcake-games · 2 months ago

Text

Made Marion Development Update, May 2025

Hi everyone! Thanks for you patience with our small gap in monthly updates. I'm back in business with the current state of the project and team.

State of John's Route

So chronic illnesses can be very frustrating, and this winter and early spring I ended up struggling a ton with mine. I'd been doing well in the fall, but I relapsed hard in Feb-Apr. The good news is that after three years I finally found a specialist who was willing to try medications on me, and the most common med being used on long Covid kicked in during late April after just a couple months! (It can take 3-4 months to fully feel the effects.) For the first time since January 2022, I feel... normal. It's very exciting!

On top of the illness struggles, I was having difficulties with the way I'd planned the relationship development in John's route. It just wasn't working for me. After a lot of scribbled notes and cursing, it was a conversation with my first reader that helped me figure out my issue... I needed John to be more flawed and for the main pre-relationship confusion to be two-sided instead of one-sided. This avoids a formerly pivotal scene that I felt was too cliche and replaces it with some lovely angst and flailing. Having figured that out, I'm much happier with where things are going.

This leans into my route theme where Marion and John have a number of things in common as the "responsible one" in their families. Both of them are very hard on themselves and that can lead one to not realize that somebody else might actually be super into you. ;)

So never fear, production has been slow so far but in my new brain fogless state I'll be banging this sucker out over the summer and a fall release should be possible! Wasn't able to speed up the production rate quite yet, but it will be out.

Team Status

While I'm doing the writing and coding, the rest of the team is on their usual tasks.

Sandra: As we've basically finished the backgrounds (I'm trying very hard not to need anymore!), Sandra has moved to assisting Lawri with cut-in production. Here's one that I particularly like from John's route. What did Roan do to deserve being scooped? It involved shenanigans. I gave Sandra reference pictures of angry cats being held. :D

Arrapso: Only one major NPC sprite left to do, so Arrapso is mostly on CGs now. She'll also be doing a more naked version of our male-identified love interest sprites so that they're not obviously wearing trousers during scenes where they're implied to be naked. They won't have visible genitals, you'll just see their lower bellies and maybe some nice muscular lines down there.

Lawrichai: With Sandra helping on cut-ins, Lawri is able to concentrate fully on the animated lore intro. She learned Live2D over the winter so she could take over the animation duties herself, making for a smoother experience than me using in-engine animation tools.

That's where we are, and I hope to be able to deliver much swifter production updates over the summer!

#made marion #made marion dev update #english otome #amare game

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prodagustd · 1 year ago

Text

the road not taken 03 | myg

part three: four seconds

Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: HERE IT ISSSSSSSS!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I will try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy

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Present

When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake.

You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not.

Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month.

You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t, why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago.

That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away.

When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you.

Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart.

That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him.

You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.

Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.

You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy.

But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you.

“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”

You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet.

The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget.

The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.

That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.

Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch.

And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage.

Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.

You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it.

Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again.

Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly.

He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.

Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.”

That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.

“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump.

Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.

“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.

You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air.

“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.”

Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously.

“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”

There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.”

Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse.

You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.

Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that.

You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you.

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.

Present

You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong.

You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered.

Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no.

You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day.

Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?

Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.

Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.

“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all.

After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.

The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it.

He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).

You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist.

The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.

“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.

“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you.

You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”

The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind.

“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”

The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.”

“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself.

He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?”

“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you.

“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”

You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon.

He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”

You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe…

“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.”

He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon?

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you.

“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”

“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.”

Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?

Present

You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different?

Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.

Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first.

“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.

“Doing what?”

You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question.

You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly.

“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.

Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.

It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?”

Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people.

“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.

“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.”

“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.

“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.”

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.

“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you.

You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”

“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh.

“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”

He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping.

His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered.

“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.

“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.

You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat.

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room.

Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.

You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster.

The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat.

You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door.

You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t.

“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right.

The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth.

You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it.

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”

She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.

It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes.

You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”

“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”

“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle.

“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve.

There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.

The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade.

You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products.

You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…

Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.

This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you.

Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not.

You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her.

Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor.

After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you.

You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation.

Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.

Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.

You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.

You gulped.

That seemed completely normal.

“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”

“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.

“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.

He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words.

You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”

Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was?

“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him.

“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”

You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”

He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.”

He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).

You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant.

You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.

“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute.

What. Was. He. Doing.

And what was he playing?

You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?

And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face.

“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.

He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it.

He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that.

“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”

The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him.

“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure.

Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were.

Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling.

When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.

The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other.

Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn��t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation.

“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you.

“Well, I can only imagine…” She said, but you did not miss her undertone.

You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind.

“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you.

A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside.

“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame.

You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you.

You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit.

“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”

Present

The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment.

Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came.

You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him?

When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away.

“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home.

Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you.

“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts.

As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city.

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.

“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.”

You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises.

“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”

You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart.

Nothing like reality, you thought.

“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.”

You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations.

But of course, once again, you were wrong.

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”

The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…”

The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”

“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.

Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”

“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind.

“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”

You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were.

She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”

The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth.

“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”

That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else.

Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear.

You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine.

When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again.

Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing?

“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved.

You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.

“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent.

You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that.

Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”

“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.”

He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him.

“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”

You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick.

“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.”

You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless.

“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response.

“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.

“What? I mean-”

“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree.

He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him.

“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.”

Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again.

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804

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seirabaaahon · 4 months ago

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CotL fic recommendations: February 2025

Alright, folks, the second list is ready! Looks like we updated 130 fics last month that fit below 50k, and I checked a good chunk of them! In case you don't know what I'm doing, I thought I would make a monthly list of the coolest fics I checked that either updated/had been published in February. This list will be continued next month and will contain only the stories under 50k. Please note that it's not a list of literary criticism but a short recommendation list with stories that made an impression on me. Same as last month, feel free to add your propositions in the comments! 1. Cult of the Lamb: Redemption by Rooney_2108 (Narilamb) https://archiveofourown.org/works/55033615/chapters/139518334 Alright, so, I admit I do appreciate two things: a well-written hurt/comfort and Narilamb starting as enemies. This fic has it both. While the start might be a little slow, I actually enjoyed coming back to it after work, and I think it's a solid read if you're looking for something to relax with. 2. Pin Feathers by april_island (Narilamb) https://archiveofourown.org/works/63091189 Super cute, short, and in character! I loved how assholy carrying Narinder was! The writing was beautifully smooth and on point, too. I highly recommend sparing your 10 minutes here.

3. (E!) In His Skin. by Wiolli (Narilamb) https://archiveofourown.org/works/63004246/chapters/162494956#main A sweet body change story in which Narilamb is trying (emphasis on trying) to not be horny and miserably fail. The smutty parts got my top notes.

4. Thawing Hearts by twooftheluckyones (Narilamb) https://archiveofourown.org/works/62883583 I seriously liked the characterisation of the Lamb as a weak, slightly lost leader and Narinder as too tired and too cold to deny his feelings anymore. This fic shouldn't have 300 hits, you all. Honorary mentions: A Cowpoke's Sweetheart by MsWikit (Narilamb) https://archiveofourown.org/works/58406584/chapters/148769491 I recommended this fic last month, but we got two new updates in February, and I'm vibrating seeing every single one of them. You don't like Westerns? Me neither! Dinos? God, I only know t-rex! Go read it. It's the best thing that was updated this year.

Romantic Torture by Divinities_Hymns (LeshyLamb) https://archiveofourown.org/works/55670350/chapters/145379476#workskin I'm still on chapter 4 here, but the general idea is making me invested in this story. An accidental wedding, manipulative husbands, the god of Chaos trying to regain his power while falling in love? With Narinder still looming in the shadows? I'm smashing that next-chapter button every time. JANUARY RECOMMENDATIONS

#cotl #cotl fic #cult of the lamb #narilamb #fic update #leshylamb #cotl monthly recomendations

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justbelievinginmagic · 6 months ago

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hi! im haley. she/her. 26. a place to read fanfiction ♡, write fanfiction ♡, & reblog kpop men ♡. i'm trying to update like a waltz & im(mortal) monthly; all of my other fics are updated whenever i feel like it! i do not have a taglist fyi! all my reader fics are fem!reader! please be +18!

✦ . ⁺ about me. my art. my ao3. ⁺ . ✦

ATEEZ Like a Waltz Masterlist

OT8 x Reader | When 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or will you be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? Divergent-1900′s Mafia AU.

When Worlds Collide Masterlist

OT8 x Reader | What if Aniteez appeared on Ateez's ship after being sent through a Cromer wormhole? How would the two crews work and live in harmony when worlds collide? Slice of (Sky Pirate) Life AU.

Mirage Masterlist

OT8 x Reader | When a surprise attack by the emotionless Android Guardians strikes the airship, the Illusion, a shattering choice sends you back to a time before you met the crew of Ateez, before piracy, and before the rise of the Guardian's Initiative! Divergent Ateez Lore / Technopunk Pirates / Time Travel AU.

Bewitched Masterlist

Seonghwa x Reader | All your life you had been asked: would you be a good witch or a bad witch? You wanted to be a good witch. and, finally, you would be! the day arrived; you were going to Shiz University, the most-esteemed magical college in all of Oz! You were prepared to work hard and make your dreams come true. but when you stumble upon cold bullies and an even colder sorcerer-in-training named Park Seonghwa who seemed to captivate you at every turn, will you be able to achieve your magical goals or will you fall under his spell? Wicked AU.

The Captain & His Sea ; The Sea & Her Moon Drabbles

Davy Jones!Hongjoong x Calypso!Reader | When the goddess of the sea fell in love, a gift became a curse upon the lovers. Pirates of the Caribbean AU.

you can devour me whole; i dedicate to you my life

Seonghwa x Hongjoong x Reader | you've escaped your vampiric lovers at least... you thought you did. but at every turn you are haunted by them. will you ever feel like yourself again or are you simply theirs? Yandere Vampire AU.

BTS The Dragon-Blood Chronicles Masterlist

OT7 X Fem!Reader | Dragon-blood folk have been gone for centuries. But, when Prince Namjoon gets sent away from the Palace at a young age for unruly behavior, things begin to change in the kingdom, and eight magical fates begin to unravel. Fantasy / Dragon AU.

I Need U Masterlist

Taehyung x Original Female Character | This fic incorporates a female original character named Song Nari into the Bangtan Universe (focusing primarily on HYYH storyline and Smeraldo lore while incorporating BU MVs) and explores her relationships with the boys throughout the years as things go wrong and right before their lives get forever changed by a wish made by not only Seokjin but Nari. Will her presence change what happens in the end? HYYH AU.

One Shots Inspired By Songs Masterlist

ENHYPEN im(mortal) Masterlist

OT7 x Reader | Seven souls search for answers about their forced immortality. In the process, they find more than they could imagine brewing - including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality? Sci Fi Vampire AU

STRAY KIDS Ariadne’s Thread Masterlist

Hyunjin x Reader | When tempted by an intoxicating offer by Hyunjin the Goblin King, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in the Labyrinth. Labyrinth / Faerie AU.

Burrow Masterlist

Chan x Hyunjin x Reader | After escaping the facility that made you what you were, you strive to reunite your broken trio and build a life that was worth living. Sci Fi Hybrid AU.

do you even lift, bro??

Changbin x Plus-Sized!Reader | Changbin loves showing off for you. Idol AU.

TOMORROW X TOGETHER Starstruck Masterlist

Yeonjun x Reader x Kai | When the Ever-Lasting Star stops tick-tocking over a fantastical land, the very fabric of the world begins to change. A princess faces magical curses, mythical beasts, corrupt cults, and old friends in order to rewire the universe to find your true happily ever after. Fantasy AU.

(fyi: i cross-post all my works on ao3 under the same username!)

divider credit @anitalenia!!

#pinned post.

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zepskies · 10 months ago

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❤️‍🩹 Life Update (And another BIG update...)

So I typically don't do this, but I just wanted to share something more personal with you guys.

Some of my friends on here already know this, but I've been going through a really rough time this summer, with an ongoing medical issue that has put me through multiple procedures and one surgical procedure last month in July. The issues all began the exact week I moved into a new apartment.

Then, just a few days after my surgery, I was let go from my job. I've been spending the last couple of months trying to recuperate, dealing with quite a lot of pain and discomfort, all while job hunting and writing stories to take my mind off it all.

I really wish I could tell you guys I'm in the homestretch of my recovery. I really thought I was! But, I just got some bad news this past Tuesday during a follow-up appointment. At best, I will need another surgical procedure. At worst, I'll need to be referred to another specialist for more answers.

I'm telling you all of this for a couple of reasons:

(And another big update below the cut!)

You've probably seen me even more active on here for the past couple of months. That's because Tumblr has been one of my main outlets, not just to distract my mind from what I've been going through, from the stress and anxiety, but also to engage more with my friends and followers. Trust me, your feedback, encouragements, comments and reblogs, tagging me on posts, and sending me fun asks has helped ease my mind. It's made me smile and laugh, even when I felt more like crying. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you! 💕💕

To potentially help offset some of my financial burdens, I'm working on creating a Patreon! I already have a Ko-Fi page, but I think Patreon will help me give back to you guys better while members support me in turn. It will be a simple monthly membership where you can get early access to my new stories and series chapters, early sneak peeks on new fic projects, some fun bonus content (like fic sequels and bonus drabbles), priority on fic requests, and more!

So stay tuned, because that's coming very soon. 😘💜

Tagging some of my lovely mutuals and readers who've made my day brighter:

@luci-in-trenchcoats @talltalesandbedtimestories @deans-spinster-witch @kaleldobrev @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@deansbbyx @artyandink @tofics @deanbrainrotwritings @iamsapphine

@spnwoman @kayleighwinchester @spnbabe67 @thatonewriter15 @jessjad -- and many, many others! 💗

#zepskies updates #life update #reader appreciation #love to my friends and mutuals #love to my readers #and another big update

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peachesyeo · 1 year ago

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Player 1117 0002 - in the garden

word count - 2.6k pairings - gamecharacters!ateez ot8 x fem!reader (ft. txt) genre - fantasy au, dark romance au, obsessive/yandere elements. chapter warnings - some violence scenes

author's notes - I'M BACK! Can we make this a monthly update? Yes or Yes?

thank you @sousydive for beta reading! thank you @ja3hwa for helping me, i love you!!

network: @newworldnet

back to masterlist?

"I don't want to be friends with Kim Hongjoong."

Hongjoong's smile faded, splintering like a crack spreading across a porcelain mask. However, he quickly recovered, his eyes shining with tears as the table fell silent.

"Y/n-ah..." Yeonjun started awkwardly, unsure how to salvage the situation. Your father cleared his throat, signaling for the servants to serve the dishes. The silence was soon broken as the dining table came to life with the sound of light, animated chatter.

For some reason, the adults did not want to get involved in this matter. Unbeknownst to you, your three brothers exchanged worried glances, shifting their eyes from you to Hongjoong. You ignored their looks, focusing solely on the food in front of you.

If falling in love with Hongjoong is the reason why Eternity became a broken kingdom, that just gives you more reason to avoid him. Now that you are 'Choi Y/n', there is no way you are going to let the fall of Eternity happen. The characters you see in the game are living and breathing, and even though you've only interacted with your older brothers for a short while, it feels as if you've known them your entire life. How could you still let the same plot from the game unfold?

But why can't you remember who killed Yeonjun?

A small voice at the back of your head nags ominously, whispering that something is wrong, that you have forgotten something very, very important. But what is it? What have you forgotten?

The rest of the dinner went by in a blur. When your plate was clean, you wiped your mouth neatly with the napkin Yeonjun had fetched for you earlier. You got off your seat and turned to your parents.

“Thank you for the dinner,” you started, ignoring the piercing gaze of Hongjoong. “I shall excuse myself.”

“Alright,” your father replied, his voice warm yet slightly concerned. Your mother gave a small nod, her eyes filled with unspoken questions. You bowed to the Queen of Mist, who inclined her head to you, and gave a quick bow to Hongjoong.

You felt Hongjoong's gaze follow you as you left the dining room. You walked down the hallway alone, each step echoing in the quiet halls. As you reached your room, you dismissed the servants and closed the door behind you before you leaned against it, taking a deep breath.

You’re scared.

Hongjoong is a good actor. But his crocodile tears did not fool you, not when you knew the plot of Utopia. If you had not known what kind of person he is, you would have fallen into his web of deceits.

Get a grip on yourself, Y/n-ah.

Seonghwa knew that his prince was not in a good mood.

He stood behind Hongjoong, watching the prince roll a brooch between his fingers. Hongjoong’s expression was hidden in the darkness of the flickering candle, but Seonghwa knew he was thinking.

He couldn’t help but wonder why Hongjoong was in such a bad mood. Did something happen at the dinner with the Chois? Seonghwa thought of the dinners he had attended with Hongjoong back at Mist. Anger crept into his thoughts as a strange black mist gathered at the tips of his fingers. Was his prince ridiculed? Did they insult his highness?

“Hwa.” Seonghwa cleared his thoughts, his attention immediately shifting to his prince. Hongjoong was looking up at him with a lost expression on his face. “What do you know about the Star of Eternity?”

Seonghwa’s fingers curled into a fist. Was the Princess of Eternity the reason for Hongjoong’s mood? He quickly skimmed through his memory, trying to recall what he had heard about the Princess before.

“There wasn’t much news about her, except that the Chois are very protective of her,” Seonghwa replied carefully. Hongjoong looked at the brooch in his hand, a troubled expression on his face.

“Protective?” he repeated, his voice tinged with a manic edge. Suddenly, a crazed smile twisted his lips. Hongjoong laughed loudly, slamming the brooch into the couch. “No, no, no… She saw right through me, Seonghwa-ah…” His laughter turned into unsettling giggles as he spun around to face Seonghwa. His eyes were wild with excitement as he kneeled on the couch, gripping the attendant’s arm with a vice-like hold. “Isn’t it exciting, Hwa? Someone who saw through me… Even Mother fell for my innocent facade…”

“Your highness…” Seonghwa began, his eyes filled with a mix of intrigue and worry.

“Such an interesting person, the Star of Eternity…” Hongjoong muttered, his tone a disturbing mix of fascination and obsession. Seonghwa bowed his head slightly. “Do you know how she looked at me, Hwa? She didn’t trust me, not one bit!” Hongjoong sighed dreamily, loosening his hold on Seonghwa. “She’s not as easy as we thought, Hwa, no…”

“Do you want to get rid of her then, your highness?” Seonghwa asked, treading carefully.

Hongjoong’s smile vanished, replaced by an eerie stillness. His eyes flickered with a dangerous light as he considered Seonghwa’s words. “Get rid of the Star?” he repeated slowly, leaning towards Seonghwa. The older boy immediately let his knee fall to the ground, bowing his head. “My apologies, your highness-”

The attendant held his breath, bracing for the blow. True enough, a force threw him up in the air and sent him flying backwards into the wall while something sharp grazed his cheeks. Seonghwa let out a groan as he wiped the corner of his bleeding lips, picking himself up. Hongjoong looked at him from the couch, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

“Hwa.” Hongjoong called. Seonghwa crawled onto his knees, hearing the appending thunderstorm in Hongjoong’s seemingly calm voice. “Do you know why I left Wooyoung back in Mist?” Of course Seonghwa knew why. Wooyoung is Hongjoong’s younger half-brother, a result of the drunken King of Mist, who had forced the Queen’s maid into serving him whilst the Queen had just given birth to Hongjoong. The maid, who is loyal to his mother, had begged for the Queen’s forgiveness, and died shortly after giving birth to Wooyoung.

The other royalties looked down on Wooyoung because of his birthing, but the young prince paid them no attention. In fact, Seonghwa thinks that that brat does not see himself as a prince at all. He was always out of the castle, creating havoc and pranks on the other prince and princess.

But at the same time, that troublemaker is loyal to Hongjoong. He has no intentions of the throne, and sees Hongjoong as his only master, just like Seonghwa.

“Wooyoung is a good boy, but he likes to question my decisions.” Hongjoong answered his own question, picking up the brooch he was previously playing with. “But Hwa, you know better than to do that, don’t you?”

Seonghwa’s breath hitched. “Yes, your highness.” He answered.

“Good. Don’t let Mother see you in this state, Hwa.”

You frowned at the boy in front of you. Hongjoong stood before you, looking as innocent as a young foal. “Greetings to the Star of Eternity, may peace be ever in your favour.”

“Greetings to the Prince, may peace be ever in your favour,” you replied, setting down your cup of tea. After transmigrating into Y/n’s body, you had retained her memories and most of her behaviours. Y/n would often have a tea session by herself in the Royal Garden of the Eternity Palace, sometimes joined by her brothers if they had the time. However, you had only just started drinking your first cup of tea when Hongjoong barged into the garden with another tall teenager behind him.

At first, you paid no attention to him. The only thought in your mind was to keep Hongjoong as far away from you as possible. “What has brought the Prince into my garden?” you questioned coldly, your eyes conveying your dislike. Hongjoong looked a little hurt, his golden eyes staring sadly at you as though you had done something tragically wrong to him.

“Would you let me join you, your highness?” Hongjoong asked, with a hint of cautiousness in his voice. You opened your mouth to refute, but accidentally met the gaze of that boy behind him.

Long black hair, green eyes. A strong jawline, sharp cheekbones, and full, plump lips. This was Park Seonghwa, Hongjoong’s loyal attendant.

Park Seonghwa was one of the more popular characters in Utopia. He was a commoner on the streets who had pledged his loyalty to Hongjoong after being saved by him from an illegal magician’s tower. As an experiment, Seonghwa was different from ordinary men, and his elemental powers included the mysterious mist magic.

There wasn’t much detailed description of his display of power that you could remember, but one thing was certain: Seonghwa was not what he seemed to be.

In Jiwon’s route, Seonghwa was an elegant man who could make her blush with the simplest gestures. His charm was undeniable, and he expressed his affection through numerous courting gifts. From delicate roses and precious stones to exquisite clothes and even rare animals, Seonghwa spared no expense in showing his devotion.

One scene stood out vividly in your memory. Seonghwa had presented Jiwon with a precious tiara crafted from the finest amethyst after Mist had conquered Eternity. The tiara was breathtaking, its deep purple stone shimmering with a brilliance that captivated everyone who saw it.

But there was more to the amethyst than its beauty. That stone on the tiara was once part of the crown your father wore. It was the one precious stone that symbolised the enduring power and legacy of your family. Seeing it on the tiara was a stark reminder of the fall of Eternity and the painful loss of your kingdom.

In Y/n’s route, however, Seonghwa is no more than a cruel lapdog of Hongjoong. No matter how many times you have tried to court him, he has not once trusted you. Your brows furrowed at the thought of the amount of currencies you have spent to make choices for Seonghwa’s affection level to just go past fifty percent.

Stupid currency, what a scam.

“Your highness?” Hongjoong called out, noticing that your attention had swayed from him. His voice, tinged with irritation, cut through your thoughts. He frowned, following your gaze. His jaw tightened when he realised you were staring at Seonghwa, and that his attendant was the one who had distracted you from him.

Hongjoong’s eyes darkened with a mix of annoyance and jealousy. The prince moved swiftly in front of Seonghwa, blocking him from your view. “Your highness,” he repeated, his voice more insistent, drawing your gaze back to him. “May I join you for a cup of tea?”

You blinked, pulling your thoughts away from Seonghwa and back to the prince in front of you. Most of Hongjoong’s flaming red hair was tucked away into the black beret he was wearing, decorated with rubies. His golden eyes peered out at you from under his fringe, and you shook your head, steeling yourself against his intense gaze.

“You’re not welcomed here, Prince of Mist.” You said slowly, each word deliberate and firm. “As I said before, I don’t want to be friends with you, so do not come close to me.”

A sudden chill crept up your spine after you have said those words. You hear one of your maids gasp at your boldness, but you didn’t care. Behind Hongjoong, Seonghwa could feel his anger rising. How can anyone treat his prince like this? He thought, biting the inside of his cheeks while keeping his head low. His fingers twitched as a small cloud of dark mist began to form around it.

No, he couldn’t take this lying down.

But before he could do anything, Hongjoong took a step forward. You straightened your back, your eyes wide with alertness. “May I have a word with you in private, your highness?” Hongjoong asked, his silky voice laced with forced politeness. “Just this once.”

You gripped the hem of your skirt, your gaze shifting from Hongjoong to Seonghwa. After a moment's hesitation, you nodded. “Leave us,” you commanded, and your maids bowed respectfully to Hongjoong before quietly exiting the garden. Hongjoong was only thirteen years old; what danger could he pose? Besides, you recalled that his powers hadn't developed until he was fifteen. Seonghwa gave Hongjoong a long look, before bowing and leaving as well.

There was a moment of silence when the both of you were finally alone. Hongjoong advanced forwards and you tensed up, gripping the arms of your chair tightly. “Do not come closer, Prince of Mist.” You warned, as Hongjoong paused, his expression unreadable.

"I have a question, your highness," he began, his voice steady but with an underlying chill that seemed to lower the temperature around you. "As far as I am aware, yesterday was our first meeting, correct?" Hongjoong's long fingers toyed with a brooch on his collar. "I do not recall having done anything to warrant your dislike, your highness."

"I simply do not like you, Prince of Mist," you said coldly. For a moment, you thought Hongjoong was about to cry. Pools of liquid gathered in his eyes as he stared at you, but the emotion within them told a different story.

He’s not sad, you realised.

And then Hongjoong started to laugh. Tears of amusement rolled down his eyes as he grip the back of another chair for support, his laughter reverberating around the garden. You frowned, not understanding which part of the conversation was funny.

But you sensed something was amiss. Hongjoong breathed heavily, wiping the tears from his face. "You amuse me, my Star," he sighed, his intense gaze sending goosebumps along your skin. "You're the first, my Star."

The first person to see through him, the first person to not fall for his mask, and the first person to so blatantly show dislike towards him. Hongjoong licked his lips, and without warning, he pounced on you, leaning dangerously close. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as Hongjoong placed his hands on either side of you, trapping you in the small space of the chair.

“Let’s get engaged, my Star.” His words sent your eyes widening, shocking you. The Prince of Mist slid down towards the floor, kneeling in front of you. His head laid on your lap, his eyes boring into yours. “Our mothers would be elated at this news, no?”

At the mention of your mother, you finally found your strength back. You kicked Hongjoong off you, standing up so fast that the chair was knocked over. Hongjoong fell backwards onto the floor, his snake-like eyes capturing your attempt to escape from him.

“If you come close to me, Kim Hongjoong,” your voice was shaking as you pulled a long hairpin out from your long hair, causing it to fall over your shoulders. Pointing the sharp end of the hairpin at Hongjoong, you tried to control the trembles on your arm. “I’ll stab you with this pin. Have I made myself clear?”

Your chest rises and falls quickly as you watch Hongjoong pick himself up, patting off the dust on his clothes. “As you wish, my Star.” He answered, a smirk playing on his lips. You were aware of the possessiveness in his voice, gripping your hairpin tighter. “But this isn’t over yet, my Star.”

When Hongjoong left, your legs finally gave way and you collapsed in relief. When the maids entered, they were surprised to find you sitting on the ground with your hair untied. As they helped you to your feet, you turned to them with a cold expression. 'Not a word to my brothers,' you commanded. 'If my brothers hear anything about the Prince of Mist's meeting with me, be prepared to face the consequences.”

“Yes, your highness.”

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