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randomshyperson · 1 year ago

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Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap. | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful. In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner.

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure."

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?"

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection."

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you.

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first.

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel.

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around.

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization.

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me."

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up."

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you."

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart."

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose." You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice."

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way.

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment.

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks.

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious.

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority.

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear."

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?"

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces.

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order:

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face.

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath.

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down.

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot.

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck.

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her.

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

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inkskinned · 2 years ago

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pay attention to how your partner values your time.

i mean this beyond things like how much time you spend at work or how often you answer their text messages.

if you spend hours getting ready for them, do they value that effort? if you plan a meal and do all the shopping and prep and cooking for it, is it just dinner for them? do they notice the small chores you're always doing, or does it just magically "get done" when they're not looking? do they notice when you've spent time for them, or is it just something that is expected to happen?

my ex understood our relationship as some kind of credit service. he would do something large and nice for me maybe once or twice a season - and then "collect" on that credit for a while. my time was not as valuable as his - i was expected to give up my time for things like the upkeep of our relationship, chores, everything. even though i was in school and employed (and honestly doing more than he was), he assumed my time couldn't be better spent. he used to say i was just "better" at the daily stuff. he was my first longterm boyfriend - i hadn't been taught it. it didn't come naturally. it's just that if i didn't do it, he valued his time too much to do it for me.

recently i saw a video of a man smashing a cake into his new wife's face after she explicitly asked him not to. i'm glad that these days, most people don't find it funny. but still, someone comments: girl, just wipe it off and jump back into the party! but the fact of the matter is - even if it wiped off perfectly, even if the makeup only took a few minutes to reapply, even if the dress wasn't ruined by the oil in the icing - she would have to spend time away from her own wedding in order to do it. her new husband - he gets to laugh and sit around and party. she has to leave her loved ones and go be alone to handle the results of his prank. it might be the only day she gets to see some of these people; but that time spent (the makeup, the dress) is just valued less. it's seen as inconsequential.

just... pay attention. is it normal for you to give up your time, but they wouldn't reciprocate? do they consider their hobbies essential while yours are just "useless ways to fill the day"? is going out with their friends a hallowed event that must not be interrupted - but at the same time, you find that you're punished for or banned from similar events. do you do most of the upkeep? do you trust that if you needed to take a break, they'd absolutely pick up the weight? if you spend time and energy and effort on something, is that valued; or is it just a thursday to them.

#just thinkin #good luck out there #while yes this is a gendered phenomenon i wanted to talk about it #in terms of relationships #bc tbh it's a relationship dynamic that can exist in any relationship #and like. gay pll exist #u can experience this in a gay relationship

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lijojo · 1 year ago

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how the genshin men rizz you up

premise: although you two have been dating for some time now, they never keep trying to charm you. what are ways your boyfriend keeps you on your toes?

WILL get into your favorite books/shows and try to copy your favorite characters

sometimes while you’re just chilling, he’ll walk into the room reading one of your books or having your favorite show playing on his phone. and because your tastes aren’t always shared, you’ll raise an eyebrow in question. “i thought you didn’t like it.”

he doesn’t say anything, just merely shrugs at you and simply goes on with his day. and after that point, whenever you try to playfully glance over his shoulder, he flinches away. you’re confused, but don’t really say anything else. you trust him. if he didn’t want you to know, you’d respect that.

you’d never expect two weeks later to be greeted with the sight of him with a fake rose in his mouth dressed as your favorite character you’d been gushing to him about for the past two months. you’re 100% sure he ordered his costume right off of amazon, with the way it barely fits him.

“why hello there,” he greets, still with the flower in-between his teeth. outstretched in his hand is a bag of your favorite candies. there’s something about his wig that makes this situation seem unreal. even if your favorite character shared the same hair color as him, he still puts on the wig, as if to really sell it to you.

you don’t even bother trying to stifle your laugh. if your carrying anything, you drop it immediately to bend down, cradling your stomach. “oh my god,” you say in-between chortles, wiping away a stray tear, “you are so cute.”

he pouts. “is it not good?”

you can barely contain your smile. “it’s perfect.”

“but you’re laughing. you’re not supposed to do that. you’re supposed to get flustered and play along while i sweep you off your feet.”

you tenderly take the candies out of his hands and put it on the table, placing his terribly-placed wig down along with it. running your hands through his hair, you kiss him softly. he’s quick to reciprocate, quietly moaning and cupping your jaw. he matches your pace, if not a little more eager.

“don’t you worry, you do that already.”

alhaitham, zhongli, gorou, tighnari, scaramouche, xiao, thoma, ayato, baizhu

bluntly expresses his feelings towards you

almost painfully so.

“you look sexy in that hoodie.”

“i know,” you reply monotonously. “i also know that we’re in a grocery store right now and there are children here.”

he’s not always straightforward about his thoughts, but on days he’s feeling especially affectionate, the words slip right through.

“listen, i just think the way you wear them is really cute. not anyone can pull it off, you know? but you do it so effortlessly. it makes your butt look super squeezable,” he comments, grinning when you give him a glare. “your face in general is just very hot. it’s just my type. i didn’t even know i had a type. i think i have a crush on you, honestly.” he leans his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “you always know how to make me feel like a nervous teenager all over again.”

“that’s very sweet,” you say with a chaste kiss on his cheek, “but i don’t know if saying this in the middle of the self-checkout is appropriate.”

he huffs, scanning the fruits and vegetables. “it’s fine if the children hear that, though, right? it’ll teach them to be more expressive.”

“i guess that’s true,” you humor him, “still, i’d appreciate it if we could enjoy this moment where it’s quieter.”

he contemplates before nodding. “okay, if that’s what you want.” he fixes his posture. “anything for you.”

you smile. “thank you.”

when you get home, he continues to shower you in compliments. as he takes the large haul of groceries out of the car, he rambles. like a puppy, he trails after you as you unlock the door to your shared house, letting him inside to put all of your groceries on the dining table.

“i just don’t think i appreciate you enough,” he mutters. “whenever you get me coffee in the mornings, i never thank you, but you spoil me as if i did anyway. i know sometimes i get mad at you for disagreeing with me but later on i end up regretting it.”

he takes out the eggs carefully as if they were his own children and puts them in the fridge. “you’re always looking at the pros and cons for me, even when i don’t want to hear them. i love you so, so, so, so much. i appreciate you and respect you. even when you sometimes don’t want to cuddle.” he laughs, taking the strawberries out of your hands to put them away.

“i love our relationship dynamic, did you know that? because i know that. we’re always making sure we don’t go crazy. like that one time you helped me calm down when i was having a bad day. i love how you and i always tackle our problems together, whether they’re shared out not. you never make me feel like a bad person, just in progress. and i love how you trust me enough to open up to me, i know it hasn’t been easy but i appreciate that you’re always trying. you make loving you seem like the only right answer.”

by the time he’s done talking, you’ve put everything away. he ends his talk with tranquil silence, gathering the empty grocery bags and setting them aside for later use.

this time, you’re actually flustered. “where did all that come from?”

he doesn’t always get like this. sometimes he’s a little quieter, sometimes he gives you a small “love you” and it’s all you need to know.

he shrugs. “i don’t know. i just felt like you needed to know and i had to tell you right away.”

he gives you a little kiss like it’s nothing and goes to turn on the tv, leaving you speechless. in your previous relationships, romantic or platonic, no one had really taken the time to acknowledge your efforts so directly. you’d spend hours if not days worrying if your affections were equally reciprocated (or at least appreciated). being so openly appreciated was a new feeling that left you feeling open and vulnerable, which you were beginning to learn wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling at all.

thoma, childe, itto, gorou, heizou, kaeya, kaveh, venti

writes love letters to you

he writes them everywhere. on post-it notes, on pieces of scratch paper, on the margins of your work notepad (although you’ve had to hide them at some point because they were starting to get outside of the margins and you still needed them to write in).

in these little notes, he’ll write all sorts of different things. whether it’d be how much he loves you, about a particular moment you shared that he felt was precious (he’d write it in specific detail, as if it were an excerpt from a novel), or any miscellaneous thoughts he believed was important to convey (”you looked really cute in that dress that other day. i love how you looked so happy in it.”).

he writes things as he thinks them. sometimes you two will be watching a movie together and he’ll have an ‘aha’ moment, get up, and grab a piece of paper to write in.

and then he’ll leave them everywhere.

everywhere. you once found a note just as you were putting your clothes in the washer. (”oh, i must’ve left it there.”)

one day, you end up asking him why he writes them, even though sometimes they’re not even intended to be read by you.

“i heard that you remember things better when you write them down,” he started. “sometimes i’d get little thoughts of you and i thought it’d be a waste to forget them.”

you open your mouth to say something but he continues.

“on anniversaries and stuff like that, i always end up forgetting what i want to say. i’ll get so nervous or in the moment my mind will go blank. i don’t like that. so i thought that if i wrote them down, it’d help me remember exactly how to put my feelings into words.” he turns to look at you and beams. “and if they also help remind you how much i love you, then i’d say it’s an added bonus.”

alhaitham, diluc, cyno, kazuha, albedo, baizhu, zhongli, xiao

makings kissing a game

whoever gives the most kisses wins. of course, neither of you are keeping track, but that doesn’t stop him from planting a big kiss on your mouth in the middle of the movie and saying, “fifteen points!”

and naturally, not one to lose, you take up the challenge. you plant two kisses. that is where it escalates to the point where you two are trying to kiss each other without being kissed. it ends up with a lot of strange head movement that results in a fit of giggles.

he kisses you on the cheek when he hands you your coffee like it’s a habit. in early mornings, when the two of you are still waking up, he’ll whisper a soft “five points” with a raspy voice. when you lunge to get him back for it, he’ll dodge, rubbing his eyes and pointing a little finger at you. “haha missed me.”

on days you have work, if you don’t give him his goodbye kiss he’ll catch you on the way out. he’ll follow you groggily, silently. mid-way with putting your shoes on he’ll plant his lips on yours. his hand comes up to cup your face, gently caressing the apple of your cheek. you’re expecting him to murmur some amount of points at that point. but instead, he smiles into the kiss and hums. “i love you,” he whispers, “have a good day.”

you end up leaving with a racing heart. although you’re used to his antics, he never fails to remind you how swoonworthy a simple kiss goodbye can be.

venti, childe, ayato, heizou, tighnari, kazuha, cyno, kaveh, thoma, kaeya

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house-of-lovin · 1 year ago

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legally binded - 9

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!

Word Count: 5.6k+

When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess.

Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?

“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already.

“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it.

“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”

Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this.

The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet.

Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”

You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand.

“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.

You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”

Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin.

“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron.

Kiss the Chef.

She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks.

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”

You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”

Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”

“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate.

“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.

You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming.

“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”

You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”

Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.

“They are?”

Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”

You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”

Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.

“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”

Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”

You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”

Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”

You hummed in response.

“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”

“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.

“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long.

Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.

She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”

“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room.

She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.

“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.

“You better wash those dishes…”

“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”

—

Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤

“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand.

“Dude…”

“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”

“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.

“Link… give it back, I need to respond!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.

“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”

“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.

“Hey…”

“Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.”

“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.

“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.

You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.

“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, I see how it is…”

“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”

The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.

Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”

Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.

“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”

“I thought you’d still be on set?”

“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.

“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.

“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.

“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“

“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.

“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”

“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.”

Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”

“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”

Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.

“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”

You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”

On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”

You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.

“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”

“You did not just say the racing channel…”

“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone.

“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”

“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”

“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”

“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.

“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”

“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”

You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.

“Is it serious?”

“No, just a sprained ankle.”

Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?”

—

“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”

“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”

Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud.

“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad.

“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”

“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch.

“I’m fine.”

“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy.

“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.

You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”

Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.

Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”

You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”

If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video.

She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”

Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.

You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”

“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.

“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.

“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”

You blush red.

As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.

“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.

“Miss, I can take your bags.”

“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”

“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.”

“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.

“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.

“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”

You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.

“Me too.”

—

“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”

It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.

“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.”

“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”

At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”

You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”

Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”

“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.

“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.

You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”

She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room.

You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”

“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.

“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.

“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”

Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”

“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”

Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.

“Thank you…” She finally said.

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”

Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.

“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”

“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”

“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.

“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”

“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.

Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”

“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”

“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.

“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”

Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.

—

“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.”

The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”

“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall.

“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.

“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.

“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile. “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”

She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island.

“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.

“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug.

One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.

“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”

“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.

“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.

“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”

“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.

“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look.

“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“

“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.

“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.

“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you.

“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.

Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?”

She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.

—

“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”

“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.

“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on.

“It’s good.” She finally says.

“That’s it?”

“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.

Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.

“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you.

“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”

“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.

—

“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.

“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”

“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”

Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.

“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”

You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.

“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yup.”

“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”

“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.”

But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.

“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“

“Which, I am.”

Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption.

“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.

“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”

“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”

The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.

“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”

She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”

She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction

“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”

The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words.

“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking.

But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”

“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious.

She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes.

You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”

Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.

Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.

“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.

Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.

Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.

Shit…

You’re in deeper than you thought.

——

if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)

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#legally binded #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

Note

I WANT TOJI TO GUIDE ME (like literally almost teach me) HOW TO GIVE HIM HEAD PLZZZZ

Ohhhh, I don't know how tf I'm gonna write this, but here we go!! Hope I did alright on this one hehehe~ *sweats nervously*

Cw: Toji x fem!reader - oral (m! receiving) - it starts off cute but gets dirty, so minors DNI - reader admiring Toji's dick lol - face+throat-fucking (Toji goes at a reasonable pace) - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, sweetie, mama) - heavily detailed descriptions of a blowjob - praise - Toji laughing at you asking him to help bc what are boyfriends for, but you get a laugh out of it too - some humor. Wc: 2.8k

"You okay, kid?"

"Hmm?"

"You look lost in thought about somethin'."

"I do?" He lifts a brow and nods at you. "Oh, it's nothing, Toji, honest." The man looks at you for a few seconds as if he doesn't believe your answer, yet he goes back to watching the television, and the big hand on your shoulder brings you closer to him.

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Toji are watching your favorite sitcom on the couch in your living room. But the show wasn't capturing your attention like it usually does. Instead, your mind wandered to other matters. Other...explicit matters.

How explicit? The two of you have been together for a long while now, and you can honestly say things have been going great. For him to be your first serious relationship — plus him being older and more mature than you — it's nice to know that things have been going way smoother than you'd thought in the beginning.

Although things may seem fine, something has been clouding your head recently. This is where explicit matters come into the conversation.

Through all this time together, it just occurred to you that you haven't given Toji head. Scratch that: you've NEVER given a blowjob, period.

It's always been the other way around. Not that you're complaining, because your boyfriend seems to enjoy eating you out. And he's actually good at it! Like, really good at it. Just reminiscing all the moments he's had you turn into jelly with just his scarred lips and relentless tongue is enough to make you go dizzy.

It's a pleasure how attentive he is to you during sex. And you appreciate that he cares for you in that regard...yet you can't help but feel like you're not a good partner in bed with your lack of reciprocity.

And it's not like you don't want to give him head. Because trust, you would've done so already! The real problem is that...you don't know how.

You've watched videos and read articles on how to do it, even practicing on a banana (per your friend's advice). Nevertheless, whenever you wish to initiate; or the opportunity arises, you just freeze on the spot and force yourself to forget about it. It's as if researching and amping yourself up is way easier than the execution.

Though, you can't just let your man be the only person doing the work — sex is supposed to be enjoyable for both parties, damn it! And you're gonna push yourself to have his dick in your mouth one way or the fucking other! But......where the hell do I start!!??

You release a defeated sigh, bringing your hand up to massage your forehead from the endless banter in your brain. And Toji watches you from his peripheral, his brows drawing downward at your display of frustration. "Alright," his gruff voice snaps you back to him as he lowers the TV volume. "What's goin' on in your lil' head, baby?"

You blink at his question. "Hmm? What do you—"

"Aht aht, don't do that with me." His jade eyes harden, and you hold back from finishing whatever you were going to say. "Somethin's wrong, so tell me. I'm over here watchin' this stupid show that you dragged me on to, and you're not even paying attention."

"Hey! It is not stupid," you counterargue, and use his comment to dissuade him from the topic. "You were very invested last week when my favorite character punched the guy she likes for stabbing her in the back! So who are you to—"

"Y/n." It didn't work. Your name was thrown at you with such seriousness that there was no use in trying to distract him. "Tell me what's goin' on. If somethin' is bothering you, don't be scared to come to me about it." He says it sternly, yet he's still gentle with his delivery.

"Toji..." You can only call him by name before he leans forward to kiss your forehead, and it almost melts all your worries away.

"Tell me."

The two of you look at each other for mere seconds, you searching for any sign of uncertainty before confessing your thoughts to him. You sigh once more and lean onto Toji, his hand rubbing on your shoulder — a silent gesture of him giving you all the time you need before confiding with him.

You told him, "Don't laugh, okay?"

He scoffs. "Can't make promises I can't keep, kid." His smile manifests when you shake your head at his shenanigans. "I won't laugh, angel."

When he uses the pet name on you, it seals the deal. It's now or never.

"I was just thinking that...I might need your help with something."

A brow is lifted. "With what?"

"Umm, it's..." Your fingers find each other to fiddle with to keep you busy from the awkward tension. "It's for......y-you know—"

"I don't know."

"I-ahem-I want," you can only gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob in your throat. ".........Iwannagiveyouablowjob."

No words. No movements. Nothing. Only the noise from the TV gives a sense of life to the silence following your confession. Even the big hand on your shoulder chose to remain completely still. And you can feel the slight quiver of your lips start to come to fruition.

Nothing happens until you feel a jolt on the shoulder you're resting on. Your face blooms hot, and your lips can't fight the uncomfortable twinge. Oh, this motherfucker is about to laugh.

"Is...Is that—ahem," A tiny gust of wind exits through his nostrils, trying to extinguish the beginning of a chortle. "Is that what was botherin' you this entire time?"

Now your ears get hot, and all you can think about is how you'll dig a nice big hole for yourself to crawl in later. God, why me??!

"W-Well, I mean, I notice how you're always doing it on me," another jolt from the older man. "And...I just feel like I'm not doing my part." He lifts his hand from your shoulder and rests it on his face. Fits of chuckles silently enter the air. "But I don't know how to....do that kinda stuff. So, I was just wondering—" He starts smacking his thigh, and with the twitch of your eyebrow, you've had enough. "Toji, I swear to Christ, if you don't fucking stop—"

And with that, the floodgates opened. The laughs he was doing a terrible job suppressing wheezed out, his hand covering his eyes while the shit-eating grin was present with laughter seeping out his system. You cover your face with your hands, shielding away from the embarrassment and not letting him hear giggles of your own.

"Oh shit, c'mere ya damn cutie." Toji pulls you in with both arms, caging you so he can place a kiss on your temple. "Pfft, kid, I'm not laughing at you. But goddamn, you looked so fuckin' stressed fr' no reason."

"But it is a reason!" You chuckle under your hands, only prompting your boyfriend to laugh harder. Once he calms down, you explain yourself further. "Toji, I'm serious. We've been together for this long, and it's always been me getting eaten out. I just think it's unfair that I get to feel good and you don't, ya know?"

He snickers. "I'm always feelin' good when I fuck the shit out of you."

"You KNOW that's not the same thing!!" Toji barks a laugh from you yelling at him, and you can't take this anymore. Removing yourself from him, you get up from the couch before you sink further into the internal pool of regret. "Just forget it. This conversation never happened...I'll just go to sleep." And hopefully, die of suffocation from my pillow.

However, before you could step toward your bedroom, Toji quickly caught your wrist. You reluctantly turn to see him looking at you with a playful smirk and soft hooded emerald eyes. "Not so fast there, sweetie." His hand slides down to fully grasp your hand, engulfing it with his size. "Ya know, you're a real cutie when worryin' about me. But don't go thinking you're not making me feel good, because you do with what you got. I woulda found someone else if you didn't." You briefly glare at him, though you know he has a point.

"Yeah, I know. But I want to do more. You always take good care of me, so...I wanna do the same for you." And Toji knows you're serious about this. It doesn't matter if you can't look directly at him because of your bashfulness; your words are sincere. God, you looked so cute it drove him crazy.

He sighs quietly with a smirk, his thumb making circles on the back of your palm. "Well, if you're really sure about putting y'r mouth on my dick," and before you could fully process his words, the older man spreads his legs for your eyes to observe. And the first thing that corrupts your vision is the outline of his erect cock, the tent prominent through his dark sweatpants. "Looks like ya got yourself a lesson. Up for it?"

You gawk at his erection for three extra seconds before you look at your boyfriend and give him a nod for confirmation. Seems like your plans of suffocation and dying in a hole have been postponed to another day.

Toji grins hard, his teeth peeking through under his scar, and then he points to the floor with his chin. As instructed, you kneel between his legs.

He pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing his cock from the clothed prison for you. And you're in awe with the sight before you. Of course, you've known his girth to be immense. You've had the damn thing inside you, for God's sake. But now, seeing his length so close, it's hard to believe you had him before. You can take note of every dent and vein of his shaft, how they structure all the way down to the base, and the pinkish-red color of the tip. It all overwhelms you and makes you second-guess what you're about to do...and the throbbing sensation down south flourishes.

"Like what ya see down there, angel?" The heat on your face worsens when you glance up and see Toji sneering down at you, and a hand comes down to massage your cheeks. "Try lickin' it first."

You gulp before following his suggestion, opening your mouth for your tongue to flick on the frenulum of his cock. You can hear him moan from the action, so you proceed and lap around the head of his cock until you feel adventurous enough to take his glans in your mouth. Toji groans from the wet walls of your mouth, and your teeth brushing against his glans makes his body jerk. "Hmmm, be careful with y'r teeth, baby. Relax that jaw and puff those cheeks a bit fr' me."

His comments are taken wholeheartedly, making sure everything goes right for him. Your cheeks go hollow for you to suck his cockhead and take in a few more of his length, his hums of pleasure egging you on. It goes well until the tip hits your uvula, resulting in your gag reflex. And Toji is quick to gently pull you from him, your saliva coating his dick.

"Woah there, sweetie. Don't forget to breathe." He coaxes while you cough. Your eyes start to water as you gasp for air to even your breathing. "We can stop now, don't want you chokin' on— Aisssh!!."

He's unable to finish his sentence when your hand strokes his cock, paired with kisses to the underside of his shaft. "No, I can keep going." You look at him with half-lidded eyes, having the man twinge his lips upward.

"Alright, then we're gonna go slow, okay? No rush." He aligns his cock to your lips, waiting for re-entry. "I'll push, and you breathe."

You give him a nod to signal you're ready, and your mouth agape to take in his returning limb. Toji brings your head in while you remind yourself to breathe, but your body jolts when you feel the tip come almost close to your uvula again. "Relax, mama, relax. Keep taking deep breaths fr' me." He coos at you, and you do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Once you slowly move, Toji aids you by gently pushing the back of your head toward him. And a wave of astonishment and relief hits you when you manage to have his dick hit the back of your throat.

"There ya go, cutie." He smirks at you, aware of your tiny display of giddiness. "Now, try goin' at your own pace."

With a few bobs up and down, slowly but surely, you get used to having Toji's cock in your oral cavity, going at your own tempo and enjoying yourself with this. Your movements are filled with confidence, and you whimper every time you try to go as far as you can but not too crazy.

And Toji loves every second of it. Your moans vibrate the walls around his cock, and it turns him on even more when he peers down to see you suck on him so deliciously. Spit covers your lips the more you take him in your mouth, and he groans when he feels your hands stroking him and kneading his balls (something you've learned to do from the articles you've read). "So good...Hmmph! So fucking good..." It's been a long time since Toji's been given a blowjob, and it feels so good to have you — his sweet thing — do it for him.

But then a thought pops into his mind, and the pleasure in his body churns into a different path of want and need. "Sweetie." Your eyes flutter up at him when he calls you, stopping midway through. "Wanna go a lil' further than this?" It takes a moment for you to register, but you give a curt nod with a hum on his dick, which he can only assume is a "yes."

"I'm gonna stand up, okay? So keep taking deep breaths and follow my lead." You don't answer, only gaze at him as you mentally prepare yourself. Toji rests a hand at the rear of your head as he gets up from the couch, keeping you still on his cock in hopes you don't choke. Now he's standing upright, and his sweatpants slide down to his sturdy thighs. He places both his hands on each side of your head. "I'm gonna start moving slowly, 'kay baby?"

And so he does, unhurriedly pushing his shaft into you, and your hands find purchase on his thighs as he does so. His dick that once stopped at the back of your throat eventually finds its way deeper within, and you're senses are clouded with his smell when your nose and mouth meet his pelvis. It all feels so overwhelming that tears start to form.

Toji lets you adjust to all of him for a while, grinding his hips on your lips to fully accommodate his whole girth, prompting more muffled mewls from you. He ruts his hips at your face when he notes your steady breathing. Gradually, every inch of his cock sinks into your mouth. Your head starts to pound as you enter a haze.

The pace of his thrusts eventually goes faster and faster by the minute, and the tears finally come down with every jab to your throat. Saliva runs down your chin with the smack of his balls, the head bullying your insides with the erratic rhythm. Your nails form scratch marks on his thighs from all the stimulation you're going through, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't feel so fucking good. Having your boyfriend's pelvis smack on your face on par with the sounds of you sucking him off felt like fire to your eardrums. So hot but so electrifying the more you indulge yourself.

As for the older man fucking the hell out of your face? Oh, how he missed this. It's been so long since he stuck his dick on such a pretty mouth. And your throat's tight, velvety walls have him rutting for more. He knew this would make his thirst return, and now he was sure an addiction would form from this. But right now, he can feel the surge of his orgasm arise, and his brows crease with a guttural groan as he thrusts into your face with harsh motions.

"Shit, ahhhhh shit, shit," It's so close, almost there. "Gonna cum, mama, gonna—Mmmm! Haaah, oh fuck, oh fuckin' Christ!" Through his moans of pleasure, Toji releases his load down your throat. And you're in no other position than to just take it, whimpering blissfully onto his length as he gives you a few more ruts to your face.

When he's done experiencing his ecstatic high, the older man withdraws himself from you. Your throat and mouth become empty except for his essence that you swallow. Strands of spit and come connect your wet face to him for a crude yet intimate moment before they break out.

He pulls up his sweatpants and drops down to wipe your pretty face with his hand. "So? Was I a good teacher?"

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stylesispunk · 10 months ago

Text

Waiting room

Joel Miller x f! reader

summary: A few years ago, Joel saved your life and you have loved him ever since but he didn't reciprocate your feelings or that's what you thought. word count: 2,5k a/n: I didn't write a chapter for "The Not so Invisible String" series but wrote this. I would appreciate receiving reblogs and comments. Happy reading!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

"What happened to me?" you questioned, your curiosity seeking answers.

"I found you," the stranger replied. "You had slept for two days."

In two days, you changed the rules of the game.

In two days, Joel came across with his humanity when he found you laying on the ground after being beaten up by some smugglers.

And what a plot twist you were.

You were so young and naïve when the world broke into a mess, and the reminisces of your old life before were just fogging memories threatened to be erased completely by the clouds of your head. You had forgotten your mother’s voice, the taste of the cookies she baked on Sunday’s afternoons, and the essence of her perfume enveloping you in embraces you were never going to get back.

You still craved a lingering, real sort of comfort that hadn’t come. In this world, emotions make you weak, and being weak means you die.

The closest thing to caring you received from someone was from Joel. The day he found you, he treated your wounds, he prevented you from dying by starving himself, and he fed you with his food.

“I broke my rules for you.” He peeped once you recovered, but still, he let you stay.

Through the months and years, you had become accustomed to the idea of him and Tess being the only people you could trust; they were older and wiser than you, a perk but also a source of constant disappointment over the idea of you being seen as the foolish, weak kid.

You felt a burden. You were a constant troublemaker, getting into trouble with everyone who seemed to mess with you, but under some eyes, you were still Joel’s girl, just that you really weren’t. You just idealize the idea of it.

Because every time somebody hit you, he was there, and if that wasn’t love, what the fuck was it?

You knew that there was something between them beyond a simple partner-in-crime relationship. They weren’t what you would call lovers, but there was unspoken language between them you couldn’t decipher, not because you were a fool but because you weren’t a part of them.

Because you weren’t important,

You didn’t know if Joel cared about you coming back.

You were just someone Joel found almost dying.

Whereas for you, he was the closest thing you felt to home.

"Where were you?" his voice called out in the middle of the dark room, breaking the silence of the eerie night.

“God, you scared me,” you answered. "I thought you were asleep."

"You know I don't go to sleep unless I know you're here." His voice was so sharp it could cut in half.

Liar.

“You are asleep other times,” you acknowledged, trying to remove your boots without whimpering as the pain settled in your bones. “And I'm here. You can go to sleep now," you hissed, out of frustration but also from the pain emanating from cuts.

"No."

"Well, I'll go then," you replied.

“Come here, show me,” he demanded.

“No.”

“Come here,” he repeated, frustrated this time.

“I said, “

“Now!” the raised tone sent shivers down your spine, forming a lump in your throat.

You were there, not moving, and he was closer. The dim light in the room cast eerie shadows as he examined your face, his fingertips tracing the evidence of the scars painted on your skin.

The cut on your bottom lip throbbed with each breath. A bruise, vividly purple, marred the skin around your eye, testimony to the violence that had been part of it and the cut on your nose, which seemed to be broken.

Not only do you face hurt, but all your body is carrying the consequences of a beating you didn’t think you deserved. Your bones felt crushed under the pressure of the emotional turbulence going on in your head.

And Joel’s touch, his gentle touch, so delicate yet full of fury, not towards you but at the merciless people that forced such a wound on you. You winced as his fingers grazed the tender skin; his silence was so loud.

“Who did this to you?” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. The sharpness of his earlier tone softened under your teary stare.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied.

“It does to me,” he retorted.

“No. Joel, let me be alone. It hurts; my body was hit, and I would be dead if it weren’t for you,“you sobbed.

“For what?”

"For you," you admitted through a shaky breath, the weight of the truth bearing down on you. The room seemed to shrink as you uttered those words, exposing a vulnerability that had remained buried beneath the facade of strength.

Joel's eyes softened, and the fury in his touch transformed into a gentleness that contrasted with the brutality of reality outside. In that fleeting moment, it was just the two of you, suspended in a fragile moment.

His voice, now a whisper, carried a mix of concern and disbelief. "For me?"

“The only reason I’m not dead is because of you. Can you believe it?” You chuckled. “One of the men there recognized me as Joel’s girl, who I am not, and then they stopped. Not even because I’m a person, but because I am associated with a man.”

Joel's expression tightened at the revelation, a flicker of anger passing through his eyes.

“Let me clean your wounds, “Joel began, his voice a gentle plea to attend to your wounds.

"No. I don't need your fucking help," you interrupted, frustration lacing your words, tired of being the dog at Joel’s door waiting for him to notice your loyalty and devotion.

"Yes, you need it because you're a fucking naive baby acting restless and so careless." Joel retorted, frustrated.

“"I have no one. My life is just a waste of air for this damn world, so why should I care about my well-being?" you shot back bitterly, the pain in your voice mirroring the bruises on your body.

"Because I care about you," Joel admitted, his words a brief glimmer of hope. However, before you could fully grasp the weight of his confession, he extinguished any expectations. "You have Tess and me; we share our roof with you."

"Exactly. Your place, not mine," you argued, a stark reminder of the boundaries that confined your sense of belonging.

"Your point?" Joel challenged.

"You found me once and brought me here, okay? Thanks for it. But that doesn't mean I have your respect," you asserted, the frustration bubbling to the surface.

"My protection is not enough." Joel questioned, his patience wearing thin.

"It's not," you replied with conviction.

"Then you can go and find your own fucking place."

"That's what I'm doing. I'm leaving the QZ. There may be a place that fits for me," you declared, the decision firm in your voice.

Joel's silence echoed through the room, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But you offered none, maintaining a stoic resolve as you walked away from the confrontation.

"What? Where?" he finally managed to utter, a mixture of confusion and concern etched on his face.

"Goodnight," you replied tersely, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The darkness of the hallway enveloped you as you retreated towards the bedroom. The door creaked shut behind you, leaving Joel standing in the dimly lit room, grappling with the echoes of your departure.

The room was shrouded in darkness, and you lay on the bed, the events of the night replaying in your mind like a relentless loop making fun of you for being so foolish, but despite the physical exhaustion, sleep eluded you, and your thoughts continued to wander through the tangled maze of emotions.

And Joel, of course, whom you were leaving behind tomorrow morning before he could even notice you were going to disappear.

As you lay there, the door creaked open, and Joel entered, carrying a small bottle and a cloth. The soft glow of a flashlight in his hand illuminated his face, revealing concern and remorse for his previous attitude.

"I brought something for the pain," he muttered, his gruff voice softened by a vulnerability you rarely could see. You remained silent, acknowledging his presence with a nod.

Joel approached, his movements deliberate as he poured a few pills onto his weathered palm. "Take these. They'll help with the pain and help you sleep."

You reluctantly accepted the medicine, swallowing it down with a sip of water from a nearby bottle. The bitterness lingered on your tongue.

Joel then reached for the cloth, dampening it with water. Gently, he began to clean the wounds on your face, his touch surprisingly tender. The initial sting of contact faded, replaced by a strange mix of relief and discomfort.

"Joel,” you said, but he didn’t answer and focused on tending to your injuries.

"Joel," you repeated, a little more assertive this time. His name hung in the air, yet he remained silent, his attention fixed on the task at hand. The rhythmic motions of cleaning your wounds seemed to be his sole purpose.

You took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken words settling heavily in the room. "Joel," you said once more, this time with an edge of urgency, attempting to draw him out of his concentrated silence.

He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. "What is it?"

The room felt hot with tension as you hesitated before finding the words. "I appreciate this—the medicine, cleaning my wounds. But it doesn't change my mind about leaving.”

His gaze held yours, an unspoken plea for understanding. "You're hurt; you can't go so far in your state," he replied, a touch of concern in his voice.

"So what?" you retorted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "If I have to die outside, I will. I don't care. I'm just tired of this life."

Joel's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from anger to concern. "What would make that thought go away?" he asked, his question cutting through the defiance in your tone.

"What?" you responded, caught off guard by the unexpected question.

"What would make life worth living?" he repeated, his gaze unwavering. The weight of his inquiry settled in the room, demanding introspection.

The silence that followed was heavy, the question lingering in the air as you grappled with the complexities of your own desires and the harsh realities of the world outside that broke any chance of achieving the dreams you had when you were a child.

The silence stretched, becoming a tangible force in the room, until Joel's desperation cut through it like a blade. "I'm waiting," he said, his tone laden with urgency.

"To have someone," you confessed, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken longings.

"How?" he pressed, searching for clarity in your cryptic words.

"To have someone that cares for me," you explained, the vulnerability in your voice laying bare a deep-seated yearning, a yearning you had been carrying for years.

"You have me," Joel insisted, his desperation now tinged with frustration.

"You're not mine; you're hers," you said, invoking Tess. "Do you think I don't hear you both having sex?”

His eyes widened, realization dawning on him as the unspoken truth reverberated in the room.

"Maybe my body was hers, but inside, it's here." Joel took your hand and placed it over his chest, just above his heart. "I'm craving for you."

A tense silence enveloped the room as your words hung in the air, and Joel's eyes reflected all the sincerity of his feelings slipping from his lips. Your skepticism pierced through the charged atmosphere, casting a shadow over the vulnerability that had been exposed.

"I don't believe you," you declared, a note of disbelief in your voice.

Joel's expression tightened, a blend of irritation and determination etched on his face. "You don't?"

"You're just saying those things out of pity," you accused, the walls of defense rising once more.

He shook his head, a flicker of frustration evident in his eyes. "You are whiny, a pain in the ass, arrogant, naive..."

"Stop!" you exclaimed, the litany of criticism hitting you harder than expected.

"Yet, despite it all," Joel continued, his voice a mixture of exasperation and something deeper, "you make me go crazy, and still, I want to break every single finger that has been laid against you."

The weight of Joel's words hung in the air, a revelation that cut through the tension and laid bare the depth of his emotions. His eyes, always filled with exasperation, now held a raw vulnerability.

"You don't realize that you brought sense back to my life!" he exclaimed, the urgency in his voice echoing through the room. "If you go and you die, there's nothing left for me to fight for."

"I want to be the last one you love," he spoke, his hands cupping your face, fingers tracing delicate patterns over the scars that adorned your skin. His gaze, dark and intense, held a promise that lingered in the air. "I want to be your ending."

"And I want you to be my ending," he added, referring to the weight of the words hanging between you.

A profound silence settled, punctuated only by the erratic beats of your heart against your ribs, In that moment, you felt that the confession of love coming from Joel was the last source of breath you needed to become a person again.

And then, he kissed you. With a warning written on his dark eyes, yet you didn't see it coming. He kissed you because there wasn't anything else to do. He wanted to claim your lips as them because they were his.

Joel's lips lingered against yours, the warmth of his kiss irradiated foreign feelings for you. You had never felt so loved for someone before, and as the kiss deepened, a subtle smile played on his lips, a rare expression coming from him.

He pulled away slightly, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. His hands, calloused and weathered, gently caressed your face, tracing the contours of the scars on your face.

"You're not leaving," he spoke against your lips, with another gentle peck on them.

A shy smile played on your lips in response. "Whatever,” you replied.

Joel's confession had acted as a healing salve, mending not just the physical scars but also the emotional ones that had marked your journey through this world.

Joel's eyes softened as he caught the playful glint in your smile, and a warmth seemed to spread through the room. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The strength in his arms felt like a shield against the harshness of the world outside.

"You can be stubborn as hell, you know that?" he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

As he held you in his arms, the world outside faded away, and all that remained was the warmth of the embrace and the quiet assurance of shared moments.

"Get some rest," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper. "I'll be right here."

With Joel's arms wrapped around you, the weariness of the day and the weight of the past seemed to dissolve.

In the arms of Joel, the night embraced you, and as you closed your eyes, you found life worth living because of him.

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shaunamilfman · 5 months ago

Text

Being Jackie Taylor's controversially young gf

pairing: jackie taylor x reader note: let me be delusional lmaoo

definitely broke up a semi-serious relationship with a man she'd been dating for a year or so when she realized she would have to spend the rest of her life with that guy. In my mind she got really drunk one night at a sorority party and had an “oh, shit” moment and avoided him for two weeks before breaking up with him.

i see Jackie as a news anchor. honestly, I think it would really fit her. always struck me as a morning person.

meets you at a coffee shop that she has to rush into at the crack of dawn before work. she's so fucking happy and in a good mood that it puts you off at first. like seriously, it's like 6 AM, why is she smiling??

Jackie immediately takes a liking to you. starts going out of her way to stop by whenever you're working, even though it's five minutes out of her way and she likes the coffee at the other shop better.

she's so flirty, incessantly even. she derives so much pleasure from making you nervous. even with all the flirting she does, she doesn't seriously expect you to reciprocate her interest. she's immediately stunned and a little unsure when she realizes you wrote a flirty comment on her cup, because don't you realize how old she is?

comes back in the next day and mentions it and is immediately flattered when you just shrug and hand her the usual before she can even order it. Jackie's so flustered by your attention that she leaves without paying. runs back ten minutes later and practically throws the money at you before sprinting back to work.

Jackie really likes the fact that you don't know who she is. i mean, who watches the news anymore??

you finally catch a clip of her as the anchor and realize what she does. she gets so shy when you tease her about it. asking her for her autograph as a joke and she's tripping over herself and bright red

god, she's never like this but you just make her so nervous sometimes. makes her feel like a kid again and she never thought she'd like that.

doesn't even cross her mind to be embarrassed or hesitant about dating someone half her age. starts talking about your college classes and one of her friends is like “oh, it's good they're going back to college at their age” and Jackie's just like “oh no, they went straight out of highschool 🥰.” doesn't even notice the way their jaw dropped as they're doing the math.

worries constantly about how you perceive her. she seems so charismatic and confident that you wouldn't think she would be so insecure, but it's constantly on her mind. she's not embarrassed about you at all but she keeps waiting for the day that you realize she's too ‘old’ ever since someone pointed that out to her for the first time.

tries way too hard to seem hip and cool. she spent hours researching how to use modern slang correctly even though she already mostly had it down.

over the moon whenever you reference liking something from the 90s. she'll talk your fucking ear off about it if you let her.

Jackie values your validation a lot less than she would've at 18, but she still really needs to be the center of your attention. one off comment from you can really have her off kilter for the rest of the day even if you didn't mean it. Jackie's more chill about it now, but she still has a desperate need to be liked.

she gets so jealous when it comes to people your own age. there's so many spaces you’re in that she really just can't enter due to her age and it drives her crazy thinking about all the people who might be able to relate to you better or on a different level.

such a reality TV fan. has you on the couch for days getting caught up on all 12 seasons of her favorite show before the new season airs. you just know she's got the best snacks though.

ridiculously supportive of every little thing you do. if it has a competition attached, trust that she will be in the front row with your picture on a t-shirt. People definitely think she's your mom with how extra she is about it, but she doesn't even care. the crowd audibly gasps when she kisses you afterward, but she doesn't notice as she's too busy hyping you up about getting fifth place.

most considerate gift giver on the planet, I swear. she only gets better with age. it's so sweet and thoughtful that you almost tear up every time.

won't lie about her age but also won't correct other people. your friends are like “what is she, thirty???” in disbelief when they meet for the first time and Jackie's ass is just like “... yes. that's it.”

world’s most expensive makeup collection, i swear. it’s so expansive that you're almost in awe the first time you see it. entire shelves dedicated solely to it

sometimes when you get bored sitting outside the shower listening to Jackie yap you start googling the prices of things just to feel something. what do you mean that skin cream was $250???

Offers to give you a tour as an excuse to get you into her room. You’re looking around her one-story house like 🤔. You’re not sure there’s a single room in this house you can’t see from the living room, but you’re not stupid enough to give up that chance.

#jackie thoughts 🩷#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #jackie taylor x reader

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twistedlovelines · 3 months ago

Note

Part two of the sub sebek post 👉👈 (same person who asked last time, was gonna ask sooner but I forgot...if you can do some more intended for male readers I'd be delighted and will owe you my soul, lungs, kidneys and eyes. It's okay if not though, you can still get my soul)

Have a lovely day/night

Sub! Sebek with a M! Reader (18+, MDNI)

Sub! Sebek, oral, (reader giving) anal, fingering (m! receiving), creampie, m! Human! Reader

Service. Sub.

He's far too prideful to initiate a quickie, but he'll shoot you desperate gazes the whole day in the hopes you understand his meaning. A firmer-than-necessary squeeze on your shoulder or waist as he moves past you, letting out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a moan when you pin him down during training, etc.

Genuinely loves being between your thighs and serving you. He doesn’t have to worry about anything but your pleasure during this time, and he trusts you wholly, allowing him to relax and let his worries slip away with every thrust in his mouth.

While he’s more focused on your pleasure at first, he does enjoy being the target of your affections in private (key word: private- he can’t handle too much PDA and prefers to show more overt forms of affection in private because it feels more genuine).

Generally, he’s never really cared much for exploring his own body and preferred to take care of things as quickly as possible (aka getting off by his own hand). He’s not familiar with toys, and never really seeks them out unless you introduce them to him ^^

As a result, he's quite nervous the first time you play with his ass and penetrate him. He's tense!! Anal in general requires the receiver to be relaxed, but Sebek in particular is so wound up that you need to work him through an orgasm or two before you can even insert a finger.

When you’re able to work your way up to stuff him with your cock, he’s wonderfully prepped for you. His hair is completely disheveled, his calloused hands having run through it in (failed) attempts to reign in his reactions. Spread completely for you, his cock is erect, leaning over his stomach as the flushed pink tip drips with pre-cum. “Well? What are you waiting for, human?” He snarls breathlessly. Frankly, it comes out weaker than he intended, but he can’t quite get himself to care. His nipples are sore from how you had toyed with them earlier, and he can feel himself clenching around nothingness as you pump yourself a few times before lining up with his hole.

As much as you try to ease yourself into him, Sebek can’t help but gasp at how full he feels whenever you fuck into him, and tends to hook his legs around you in response, wanting to feel as close to you as possible.

He cums fairly quickly given how overwhelming this experience is for him the first time, but he finds it a waste for you to allow your cum to leak out of him, so he whines and tugs you closer after you cum inside of him <3

Sebek finds himself surprisingly clingy after sex- even as you both give aftercare and collect yourselves. He can’t help but want to hold you close after such intimacy, and you’re happy to reciprocate.

a/n: reblogs and comments appreciated <3 requests are closed right now, but feel free to brainrot about any ideas or ask for me 2 elaborate in my inbox <33

#moth.flutters #nsfvv #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt smut

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kings-roar · 7 months ago

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credit card: prologue

summary: Yuu gets invited on their first journey to one of their schoolmates’ hometowns! But with the meager allowance given by that stingy headmage, they don’t think they have enough to cover the travel. Luckily for them, they’re dating a super rich (and surprisingly generous) boyfriend. notes: this is part one of my series: credit card! details/warnings: gender-neutral pronouns, yuu instead of y/n, adult!yuu, established relationship, leoyuu, follows EN server

ao3 link: xxx

It was on a lazy Friday evening in the botanical gardens when Yuu was approached by an energetic ball of energy, otherwise known as Kalim Al-Asim, and his childhood companion Jamil. Yuu looks up just as Kalim barrels into them with a hug. They laugh as Jamil begins to scold Kalim, reminding the latter to be aware of boundaries, something that is hardly in the young heir’s vocabulary.

“How can I help you, Kalim?” The prefect moves their homework to the side as they reciprocate the second year’s hug.

“We’re going on a trip!” he exclaims excitedly. Yuu tilts their head to the side.

“Oh? Well, congrats! I hope you have fun.”

“What are you talking about? You’re coming with us!”

‘… Huh?’

“Kalim,” Jamil’s voice sounds tired as he places a hand on his classmate’s shoulder. “You can’t just tell someone they’re going somewhere. You have to ask them first.”

“Oh, right! Well, Yuu, do you wanna come home with us?”

Jamil smacks a hand to his forehead as Yuu continues to become more and more confused. What does he mean, “come home with us”? Is Crowley kicking them out of the campus? Did Grim do something whilst with the Heartslabyul duo? Yuu thought they could trust those two, but maybe they were wrong.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Jamil explains with a tired sigh. “Kalim and I are heading back home, to the Scalding Sands, for the Yasamina River Fireworks Fest.”

“And since you’re from another world, I’d love to show you my hometown, Yuu!” Kalim adds with a beaming smile. “We got six VIP seats, so you and Grim can both tag along! Oh, maybe I should hit up the guys from my Pop Music club too!”

“Wait a minute, you are one of the organizers of the event, Kalim, and as your attendant, I will also be at your side. Inviting Grim and Yuu last minute is one thing, but adding even MORE people whilst we’re busy is too much.”

“It’ll be fine, Jamil! The more the merrier, as they say. Besides, They can take care of their own, right?” Kalim looks towards Yuu with shining, puppy-dog eyes.

“Um, sure.” they nod hesitantly. “But what about the cost? As you can probably guess, Crowley isn’t really on the generous side…”

“Well, the seats for the festival are covered by your tickets. The street food is pretty cheap though! Maybe you could ask the headmage to lend you some more money?”

“Eh, I doubt he’d agree. Grim is also a really big eater.”

Suddenly, a figure jumps down from the tree Yuu was leaning against. The Scarabia duo jumps in surprise, whilst the prefect merely smiled. The figure, ignoring his two underclassmen, ruffles Yuu’s head lightly before sitting down beside them. His long tail curls around Yuu’s wrist as he yawns.

“Hey, Leona-senpai!” Kalim’s the first to recover from the unexpected guest. “Can’t believe I didn’t notice you up in that tree.”

“‘Course you didn’t,” the beastman smirks. “An herbivore like you would never be able to detect a beastman like me.” The comment doesn’t hold much malice in it, if any, and Kalim continues as if nothing happened.

“Well, anyway, were you able to hear everything? Do you wanna come with us?”

“Kalim!”

“What? Leona-senpai is a classmate of ours! Besides, it would be rude not to invite him after hearing us invite Yuu and Grim.”

Leona yawns again as he nestles himself closer to his favourite human, who also happens to be his partner. His eyes are only half open, a sign that he’s just about ready to fall asleep once again.

“A trip to the Scalding Sands? I’ll pass; not a huge fan of large crowds. But if you wanna go, Yuu…” He stares into his lover’s eyes, waiting for a response. The prefect gives it a thought before answering.

“Hm, well I would like to go, since the festival is a once-a-year event. After all, who knows if I’ll be here to experience it again.”

Leona ignores the twinge in his heart at the thought of his favourite herbivore leaving his side, opting instead to reach into his pocket. He takes out a leather wallet, opening it with one hand and expertly fishing out a thin object. The prince places it gently into Yuu’s hand and quickly tucks away his wallet.

“There, now you can enjoy yourself without worrying. Just don’t let that little weasel see it. He might think this means he can spend on whatever without thinking.”

Yuu’s eyes widen as they unfurl their hand, their gaze falling on a shiny black credit card embellished with gold printed words. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR bedazzles the front, and a shiny crown emblem is stamped at the end of his name. The name of some unknown bank, as well as other details, dot the rest of the card. They flip it over and over, studying it carefully to make sure it’s real. Kalim and Jamil’s faces are also aghast as they recognize the card.

“WOAH!” Kalim gasps. “Is that a black card?! I have one too!”

From the sounds of Kalim’s voice, a black card seems exceptionally rare. Perhaps only the rich and royalty could own one. Either way, Yuu remained quite shocked at the mere fact that Leona trusted them enough to loan them his card. After all, he’s a prince! If Yuu ended up misplacing the card, and it got into the wrong hands, then who knows what could happen to THE prince of Sunset Savanna if his royal funds were taken.

“See? You’re all set now. Now hurry up and leave. You’re digging into my date time.”

“All you’re doing is sleeping…” Jamil mumbles, though it still reaches the beastman’s ears. “Whatever. Let’s go, Kalim. Because of you, I have to rearrange a bunch of things.”

“I’ll pass the news onto Grim for ya, Yuu! Be sure to be at the Mirror in the morning!” Kalim waves to the prefect and beastman as he’s dragged off by Jamil.

Once they’re gone, Leona gently brings Yuu closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crook of their neck. The prefect smiles and softly begins to brush their fingers through the prince’s brown locks, eliciting a pleased noise from the back of his throat.

“Thanks for trusting me with your card, Leona. I’ll be sure to keep it safe and use it wisely.”

“‘s all good,” Leona’s words come out slurred, the familiar and comforting scent of the gardens and his love lulling him back into dreamland. “Just want you to enjoy yourself.”

Leona finally falls asleep, and Yuu joins him once they’ve packed all their things. Trying to do homework now would be futile, it seems. The two peacefully slumber in each other’s embrace for the next hour or so, until Grim and Ruggie came to bring them back to their dorms for curfew.

#credit card series #twisted wonderland #twst #leoyuu #twst leona #twst yuu #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x yuu #jamil viper #kalim al-asim #al'ab nariya

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fluffytriceratops · 6 months ago

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𝐈 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 [𝐛𝐚𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞]

notes: part one? will probably make a very spicy part two- hehe. ;) if you know, you know. also- i imagine y/n as english here, but that's literally just me lol. there's no real hint or anything saying that she is or isn't. :D also also, i want raphael to choke me like he hates me but he loves me. :P

warnings: mature language/swearing,

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82 @pheradream-15 @kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @moonsua1 [if i've forgotten anyone i'm so sorry please comment or dm me and let me know and i'll add you right away so i don't forget in the future!]

(if you would like to be tagged in my future tmnt x reader related work, feel free to let me know and i'll happily add you!)

i love you all sm! i'm sending all the virtual hugs and well wishes to you!! <33

---

She didn't understand what she had done. From the moment she met him, Raphael acted as though he hated her. Y/n was for at a loss. No matter what she did or said, there was always this wall between them. After a while of trying to befriend him, she eventually gave up. If he did not want to be friends, then so be it. She would spend her time with his brothers.

But that only seemed to make matters worse.

It was terribly confusing and Y/n didn't know if she could take much more of it.

She had tried so hard to please him. And despite all her efforts he pushed her away. Treated her as if she was nothing. So she turned to her actual friends, and that only seemed to anger him more. Did he not want her around at all? Did he not trust her with his family?

The thing that was the most frustrating, was the fact that no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't get rid of her love for him.

---

It wasn't as if he hated her. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Raphael had a hard time expressing his feelings. He had an even harder time when he believed that those feelings weren't reciprocated.

Y/n was beautiful. She was as sweet as honey with warm skin as soft as silk. Her eyes shone when she laughed. She always wore this lip gloss that made her lips the perfect shade of pink. And she smelled amazing. Like vanilla and cedar. A warm and comforting scent.

There was no way she liked him as much as he liked her. Raphael was so certain of this. So he did the only logical thing he could think of.

He pushed her away.

Because he knew he would never be able to love her. And being in the same room as her, knowing she would never be his, was excruciating.

The only thing he could think of doing was keeping his distance. Which was hard when she was always approaching him. So he avoided her like the plague.

That didn't mean that he didn't get jealous.

---

How could he act like he knew her? He didn't know her at all! Raphael was like a stranger to her! The only things she's learned of him was from his brothers. And even if they had been telling him about her, it wasn't the same. Her gaze narrowed at him. "I'm sorry? Can you repeat that please, because I don't think I heard you right."

Raphael gazed at Y/n from across the room. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, biceps bulging. (she would have been drooling if he wasn't such an ass-) He moved his toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. Head tilting ever so slightly as he studied her.

"I said, that your actions don't surprise me. Figures someone as pristine and conceded as you would do somethin' like that." He didn't skip a beat. Didn't hesitate with his comment. Even if it was uncalled for.

Y/n blinked. It was almost worse hearing it for a second time. It made her angrier, at least. She was absolutely gobsmacked. Surprised he had the balls to make such an assumption and voice it so simply.

Raphael pushed himself off of the wall and stalked towards her. "Cat got your tongue, princess?" His lips twisted up into a smirk as he loomed over her. Staring down at her with his eyes made of gold.

Leonardo, who she had been talking to moments before- opened his mouth to intervene, but Y/n cut him off before he got the chance.

"You have no right to make any sort of assumptions about me."

Raph hummed, "Ain't assumptions if they're true."

Y/ns gaze hardened, her hands balling at her sides. "You clearly don't know me at all."

"I think I know ya well enough."

"And I think you're an ass!" She snapped, face red with anger. "If you have any other false assertions about me, I'd rather you kept your mouth shut!"

"And I'd rather you not be here at all!" He growled in return. Golden gaze burning down upon her like fire. "You're always around! Do ya not have anywhere else to be!? Any other friends besides us!?"

"You aren't my friend!" Y/n's eyes stung with tears, and she did her best to hold herself together.

"Thank fuck for that!"

"Raph, enough!" Leo seperated the two by physically putting himself between them. His ocean eyes were glued to his brother. "Take a walk." He demanded, nodding in the direction of one of the sewer tunnels.

Raphael's veins burned. He hated the sight of Leo coming to the rescue. Because of fucking course he did. It was always the wise and powerful Leonardo guiding them through their problems. He would have fought more. Pushed back harder. Let his anger consume him. But his gaze caught the sight of tears trickling down Y/n's face. Like stars falling from the sky. His heart ached and squeezed. He wanted to drop to the floor and beg for her forgiveness. Kiss her feet and worship the ground she walked on.

Y/n was a moon goddess. Made of pure starlight.

And Raphael was a brutish soldier, stuck on Earth while he watched her dance with the stars.

It was better if she hated him. It made things easier that way, he reminded himself.

Raphael didn't say anything else. He simply turned around and walked away. Afraid that if he stayed a second longer, he'd do one of two things.

Beg for the goddess' forgiveness.

Or break her.

---

Leonardo let out a heavy sigh before turning to face the h/c haired girl. "Are you okay?" He asked, planting his large hands atop her shoulders. They covered them entirely, showing just how much bigger they all were than her.

Y/n nodded, reaching up to wipe at her eyes quickly. It felt like Raphael had attacked her out of nowhere. It wasn't like she was doing anything besides talking to Leo. (Okay, maybe she had been flirting with him a little bit, but could you really blame her? Have you seen the guy, he's fine as hell-) It felt unwarranted. She didn't feel like she deserved his hate, but no matter what she did, he always seemed hostile towards her.

Leo didn't look convinced. "You sure?"

Y/n let out a quiet sigh. "Yeah.. Is it okay if I just go and finish my book in your room?" She reached towards the couch and grabbed it, clutching it to her chest.

"Of course. No one will disturb you there."

She forced a small smile. "Great. Thanks, Leo."

"Anytime, Y/n."

Leonardo watched as she padded away in the direction of his bedroom. Lips pressed into a thin line. He turned and moved in the direction Raphael went in. He wasn't surprised to find him in the dojo, absolutely wrecking the punching bag.

"Raph."

Said male glanced in his direction for a split second, grunting in acknowledgment.

"What the hell was that?" Leo gestured behind him, blue eyes hardening into a stern glare.

Raphael clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Nothin'. Just leave it alone, Leo." He continued to slam his fists upon the bag, watching it jolt and sway with each lethal hit.

"Y/n doesn't deserve the shit you give her. If you gave her a chance, maybe you would see that. She's a nice girl, she's our friend. You need to give her an apology."

Normally, Raphael would have fought with Leo. Arguing with him to the point where their verbal hits would turn into physical ones. But his motions stilled at this. He knew Leo was right, as much as he didn't want to admit it. He hated seeing Y/n look at him like that. With wide teary eyes and a wobbling lip. Staring at him like the ferocious monster he was.

Before either of them could say anything else, Mikey popped his head in the room. "Hey guys, dinner's ready!"

Leo nodded and turned back to Raph. "Go tell Y/n dinner's ready. You can apologize whilst you're at it." He didn't leave room for argument as he left the dojo.

Leaving Raphael looming next to the punching bag. He lifted his arm and hit it once more. That was the final blow, the bag snapped off the chain and smashed against the ground. It's contents pouring out.

He'd have to try and fix it later.

---

Y/n sat on Leonardo's bed. Back pressed against the wall and chin propped up on her palm. One of her favourite books sat open on her lap and she read it contentedly. She did her best not to think about Raphael and his actions and words. How he was so distant and vile towards her. She had done nothing but be kind to him. To try and have a decent relationship with him. But he refused to have even a decent relationship with her. It was beyond frustrating. It made her want to rip her hair out.

She let out a long slow sigh, tilting her head back till it hit the wall and she was looking up at the ceiling. Her mind was a mess, and while she had told Mikey she would stay for dinner earlier, now she was regretting her choice. She contemplated trying to sneak out. But that was near impossible when the lair was full of trained ninjas. Y/n couldn't sneak past them no matter how hard she tried.

There was a rap of knuckles on the door. She assumed it was Leo, or perhaps Donnie. Mikey would just barge in, and she highly doubted she'd see Raph for a good long while yet.

She pushed herself up and went towards the door. Yanking it open, but whatever she was about to say died on her tongue. Lips parted and throat dry. She couldn't say anything as she gazed at the mutant in front of her. Y/n stepped back from Raphael, studying him with an intense gaze silently. Being unable to find any words to speak.

Raph cleared his throat. "Leo sent me to get you for dinner."

Y/n dropped her gaze with a heavy sigh and turned away from him, shaking her head in disappointment. She was hoping for an apology, or something along those lines. She wanted him so bad but it felt like he was miles away.

"Y/n?" Raph stepped further into the room, looking at her in confusion. "Are you not hungry?"

"I do not want any dinner!" Y/n spat angrily, running a hand through her hair in agitation.

Raph looked taken aback by her outburst. But he stayed silent, allowing her to take in a couple deep breaths and try to calm herself down. He understood anger better than most. And Y/n had every right to be angry with him.

Finally, she turned to him. "I have spent so much time wanting to be alone with you. Wanting to talk to you! Wanting to know -" she cut herself off with a sharp inhale, dropping her gaze to the floor. Cheeks warm and tips of her ears dusted in red.

She shook her head again. "I understand that you do not wish to see me... That you would prefer to stay in any other room-"

"That's not true." He cut her off quickly. Molten gold gaze staring at her. Piercing her soul.

Y/n brought her eyes back up to him. Not believing his words. "Raphael-"

"You're wrong." He said again. Voice sharp.

Still, Y/n did not believe him. "You have avoided my presence." She stated, quite simply. It was a fact. Raphael could barley stand to be in the same room as Y/n, let alone hang around just the two of them.

"In order to give you space." He muttered, swallowing thickly. She watched the way his throat bobbed with the action.

Y/n's eyebrows dipped in confusion. "You've.. Said all but a few words to me."

"To stop myself from sayin' the wrongs things." He said, taking a step towards her. Raph wet his lips with his tongue, not missing the way her eyes followed the action. His heart pounded at the sight alone. He had caught himself staring at her eyes many times, so to find hers glued to his - she had no idea the kind of chokehold she had on him.

Y/n stared at him in disbelief. "You've barley been able to look at me in the eye."

"Because I can't stand to see the misery I have caused you!" He snapped, clearly agitated. Pacing back and forth in front of her. Like a caged animal. Skin crawling at the way she watched him. Those eyes of hers... They were paralyzing. In the best way possible.

"You did not..." She whispered, hesitantly taking a single step forwards. "I am the one who has trapped you in your own home. I should have been more understanding of your space-"

"I'm the one who trapped you." Raph cut her off, growling out the words. "I have spent the last few weeks in agony." He admitted, glancing over towards her for only a second before he resumed his pacing. "Unable to talk to you. Unable to be alone with you because I knew you wanted nothing to do with me."

Y/n opened her mouth to protest but he continued. "Which makes sense, I mean look at me! I'm fucking scary. I'm a freak. I have a bad temper, it ain't pretty when I'm angry. I get jealous and envious easily and I'm not the best with emotions. I'm not the best guy, my brothers are ten times better than I will ever be."

"Raph-"

"I see the way you look at them. I see how much you care for them. Leo especially. He's the hero. I'm the villain. That's how it's always been, that's how it always will be. If yer gonna love any of us, it's understandable that it would be him." His shoulders sunk, and he finally stopped pacing but had yet to fully turn towards Y/n. His chest was heaving with much needed air after the amount of word vomit he had spewed.

"Leo's your perfect love match..."

"You're right in the sense that you and Leo are different. You cannot be anymore different. You're practically polar opposites." She breathed, studying him carefully. Heart aching from the words he spoke. "But who said I ever wanted Leo..."

Raphael slowly looked towards her. Eyes boring into her own, trying to see if she was telling the truth or not. Trying to understand the meaning behind her words.

He was silent for what felt like a long time. They both were. The silence was thick, suffocating. They both had so much they wanted to say but neither of them had the courage to say it.

"I can't stop thinking of you," Raph started softly, "From the mornings when I wake up, to the evenings right before bed. To the dreams I have of you.. My thoughts of you never end." His hands shook ever so slightly and he balled them into fists to control it.

"I am yours, Y/n. I have always been yours."

Y/n took in a heavy breath, chest rising as she sucked the air into her lungs. "I.." Her eyebrows dipped again as she tried to comprehend his words. Was he saying what she thought he was? "I don't understand.."

Raphael shook his head in frustration, "I don't know how to be anymore clear." He huffed, lifting his arms up and turning away from her.

Y/n's gaze hardened and she moved towards him. "Do not get angry-"

"I am not angry!" He snapped.

"You look angry. And bothered. Look at you, you're all flushed." She gestured towards him and Raph grit his teeth, face warm in embarrassment.

"Yes, that is what happens."

"When one is angry."

"When one burns for someone who does not feel the same!" Raphael hissed, closing the distance between them. Towering over her. He lifted a hand and ran it down his face, biting down on his lip.

"You.." Y/n could not bring herself to look away from him. "You burn for me?"

"Why do you think I got angry at you for flirting with Leo?"

"Why do you think I was flirting with Leo?"

Raph seemed confused by this, brows pulling together. "If you even bothered to look at me, really look at me. For longer than two seconds.. You would have seen.." What small bit of distance left between them she closed by taking a final step forward.

"I burn for you."

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wintersoldiersoul · 1 year ago

Text

Slowly

A/N: I think this might be the beginning of a little series.. let me know if you guys would want more of this! Also, this story mentions a past sexual assault of the reader (not in detail) but I just want you guys to know that if you ever need a safe space, my DMs are always open. It's something I've experienced and the experiences that the reader has had are very similar to my own. Please reach out if you ever need anything <3

Warnings: mention of a past sexual assalult, angst, fluff

“Y/N is going on a daaateee!” Wanda sang, running into the living room, you and Natasha following behind.

Her statement turned the attention of Steve, Sam, and Bucky who were sitting on the couch. “A date, huh?” Steve asked. “With who?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Just a guy I met at the bar,” you shrugged. When your random bar makeout from last week had invited you to dinner, you didn’t wanna say yes. But with a little bit of peer pressure from the two women standing with you, you had reluctantly agreed.

Your eyes were on Bucky, whose eyes were on his phone. Why would you expect him to care that you were going on a date? Your feelings for him clearly weren’t reciprocated and you needed to move on. It was never going to happen.

The three of you moved to the living room to sit with the guys as you began to be bombarded with questions and comments. You swore that sometimes the adult superheros acted like middle schoolers, cheering like children when someone had any sort of development in their love life.

“So are you finally gonna have sex with someone?” Sam teased. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but it had been a while. A fact that the team loved to tease you about whenever you were stressed.

“No,” you said, simply not in the mood to be interrogated about your love life. “I don’t even know if I like him. We just kissed in a bar.”

“You’re gonna fall in love, and get married and have so many kids together,” Sam continued, his tone full of mockery.

You weren’t necessarily embarrassed about your sex life. You didn’t care that it had been a while since you’d been with someone. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had the opportunity. It was just hard for you to trust. Ever since you had been assaulted, you didn’t wanna have sex with a stranger. You never told the team about the assault, not wanting to face the sympathetic looks. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it anyways.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you said monotonously.

“Y/N, you’re gonna bang him and then be so happy and uplifted. Maybe you’ll actually get some sleep at night,” Steve joined in.

“Guys, seriously, stop.” You tried to prevent yourself from getting annoyed to the point of anger, but they were pushing your buttons. Even if they didn’t know the full reason you didn’t wanna talk about it, you were telling them to stop and that should have been enough. It was clear you didn’t wanna talk about this and that you didn’t even wanna go on the date at all but they just couldn’t help themselves from joking like a bunch of teenagers.

“We’re just so happy for you and all of the sex you’re gonna be having!” Sam said.

That’s when Bucky turned his head. “Guys, she said she doesn’t wanna talk about it, okay?”

Your heart fluttered when he defended you. You had tried your best to control your feelings for Bucky but the organ in your chest betrayed you. Every day you fell a little bit more in love with him. You just couldn’t help yourself. What had started as a harmless crush had turned into a gut-wrenching unrequited love story that tore you apart every time you saw or spoke to him.

“Let us celebrate!” Sam said. “Y/N’s gonna get fucked!”

You stood up quickly and walked away, anger reverberating in every step you took back to your room. You didn’t even wanna go on this stupid date and you sure as hell didn’t wanna have sex with a stranger. You wished you could do it. You wished you could have your mind and confidence back, the way you did before the assault. But it had ruined your trust. The one time you tried to have sex with a stranger ended in a panic attack and you getting out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

“Assholes,” Bucky muttered, standing up to follow you and make sure you were okay. He reached your door a second after you, stopping the door as you tried to close it. “You okay?”

“Yup.”

He followed you and sat next to you on the bed when you did the same. “Just ignore them. They think they’re funny,” he laughed.

You gave him a closed-mouth smile. “I just wish they’d actually stop when I tell them to, you know? I know they don’t mean to hurt me and it’s not like they know…” you trailed off before you said too much.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing, nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

But Bucky could read you like a book. Despite your feelings that he’d never like you back, he did. In fact, he loved you as much as you loved him, which led him to usually being quiet and reserved in your presence. He always had his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, silently wishing he could just work up the courage to ask you out. “Something’s bothering you, I can tell,” he said.

“And how would you know?” You said, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I know you. Better than you think I do.”

His words rendered you speechless as you stared into his eyes. God, what was it about this man that just made you want to open up? “I…” you hesitated. You had been holding this secret for so long, you didn’t know how it would feel to share it. “I was sexually assaulted last year. I’ve tried to have sex since but it ended badly,” you took a deep breath. You were not going to cry in front of him. “I think it messed me up more than I thought it did. I feel… broken, I guess? Like, it feels like everyone else in the world can have a one night stand no problem but for me, I just can’t. And it makes me feel bad about myself.”

Bucky stared at you as you spoke. “Y/N, you are not broken,” he said with conviction. “You went through something traumatic. It makes complete sense that it’s hard for you.” He stared so deep into your eyes.

“Thanks,” you said, honestly just wanting to move past the conversation. “It’s fine. I just wasn’t in the mood for jokes.”

He lifted his hand up, brushing your hair behind your ear. Your heart pounded in your chest. “It’s not fine, though. Have you told anyone else? You shouldn’t deal with that alone.”

You sighed. Maybe he was right, but still you couldn’t find the energy to have that conversation right now. “Why do you even care, Bucky?”

“Because I’m in love with you, goddamn it!”

You were speechless. This had to be some kind of joke. He had figured out your little crush and just wanted to fuck with you. Make a fool out of you. “Don’t be mean, Bucky.”

“Mean?” He said. “Why do you think I never talk to you? You make me so nervous I never know what to say. I have to stop myself from blurting out how fucking beautiful you are. God, when I’m around you it’s like… I feel like myself again.” The look in his blue eyes told you that he was telling the truth.

“Bucky, I.. I love you too. I have for a while.”

His breathing sped up as his hand remained on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His lips were on yours in an instant. His tongue made his way into your mouth, kissing you feverishly. You were both desperate for each other, desperate for the love and affection that had been missing from your lives.

“W-wait,” he said, removing his lips from yours. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I mean, you just told me you were sexually assaulted. I don’t wanna rush you into anything. I think we should just take this slow.”

You nearly cried but stopped yourself. How was this real? How was it possible that the man you had been secretly loving for so long actually felt the same? And how was it possible that he was so respectful? So caring?

“T-thank you. I really needed to hear that, Buck.”

He smiled. “I want you to trust me, fully. If we’re gonna do this… if you want to, that is, we’re gonna do this right. We’re gonna go to dinner and I’m gonna spoil you like you deserve. And we’re gonna take everything at your pace, okay?”

“I-I don’t wanna disappoint you, Bucky. It might take me a while to be…fully comfortable.”

He grabbed your face in both of his hands. “Listen to me. You could never disappoint me. Get that thought out of your head.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Now do me a favor,” he whispered. “Cancel that damn date.”

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 15, Undermined - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, allusions to sexual situations, damning texts

Word Count: 2.5k

Previously On...: Bucky attempted to explain himself in an effort to regain your trust. You offered him an ultimatum: He cut off all contact with Jade Carthage and let you go through his messages with her on his phone.

A/N: Bucky decides to lay it all out on the line, showing Pocket all his texts with Jade.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43 @wolfgirl21

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

There were hundreds of texts. Possibly thousands. You honestly had no idea he had been communicating with her this way so consistently. The first thing you did was check his deleted texts, but the folder was empty– though you doubted Bucky even knew how to delete texts, you couldn’t be positive he hadn’t picked it up somewhere. You made a mental note to yourself to hack into his phone’s data from your laptop later and check his phone records, and then hated yourself for having to resort to something so controlling. God, who was he turning you into?

The texts started innocently enough– questions about training schedules, protocols, general life in the Tower. All perfectly reasonable inquiries one would make to their new superior officer. But then came the requests– fixing her lights in her room, would he eat breakfast with her because she was so lonely? They began texting each other good morning and good night… every day.

She started calling him “sexy” and “handsome” as a way of greeting him. He never encouraged it, or reciprocated, but he never shut it down or told her it was inappropriate, either.

Then, there was the evening after the Central Park fiasco.

Vix: It was really mean of you to make me walk all the way back to the Tower by myself, you know.

>> I know. I’m sorry. I just needed to talk to Pocket alone.

Vix: I could have been assaulted or kidnapped!

>> lol You’re a super soldier. You could wipe the floor with anyone who tried.

Vix: Aww, thanks Jamie <3

Vix: Did your girlfriend get over her temper tantrum?

>> She had a right to be upset. It was shit of me to forget about her like that.

Vix: What is she? A golden retriever?

>> lol

Vix: She was alone for, like, five minutes. She’ll survive.

Vix: If you ask me, she was just looking for an excuse to be mad at you.

Vix: She obviously doesn’t trust you, which is so hypocritical.

>> What do you mean?

Vix: Come on, Jamie. You don’t really buy her whole bullshit story about her ‘friendship’ with Stark, do you?

Vix: I don’t care how rich he is. *No one* shells out that kind of money for someone’s education without expecting something in return. She obviously fucked him.

>> She told me it wasn’t like that.

Vix: Don’t tell me you believe her! I know you’re not stupid.

>> Yeah, well of course I wondered.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” you asked, your voice rising as you stood up to face him. “Uh, which part?” he asked sheepishly.

“There’s more than one part that would have me asking ‘what the fuck’?” you asked, disgusted. Bucky just kind of shrugged his shoulders. “You seriously think I slept with Tony?!” “Oh, that!” Bucky looked relieved, and that concerned you, because if he was relieved that that was what you were upset about, what the hell else was in those texts? “I wondered about it when you first told me he paid for your school,” he said. “Back before we were really friends. But you said that you didn’t, and I believe you. I’ve always believed you.”

“Well, your text to Carthage sure makes it sound like you don’t believe me,” you argued. “Like you’re still wondering.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he said softly.

“Yeah, well, and I say this with all the lack of respect it deserves,” you snapped, “your intentions are shit.”

Bucky looked down at the floor, no longer meeting your gaze. “Fuck,” you said, “I don’t even know if I want to read the rest of these,” you told him. “If that was something ‘well intentioned’ but there’s still things you expect me to get upset about.”

“No,” said Bucky, looking back at you now, “please– I want you to read them. I don’t want to have any more secrets from you.”

You sighed and sat back down. “I’m not even going to touch on you laughing about her calling me a literal dog,” you said as you picked up the phone and started reading again.

There were several selfies from Jade to Bucky of her in various skimpy outfits, asking for his opinion. Completely inappropriate, in your opinion, but Bucky would just respond with the thumbs up emoji, or occasionally “nice,” or “pretty.”

What really got to you, though, were the late night texts. You noticed some of the timestamps on Bucky’s end were from hours after you would have fallen asleep. The idea of him texting her in the middle of the night, in the dark, while lying next to your sleeping body repulsed you, and you had to suppress a shudder.

What was worse was the context of them– it wasn’t anything salacious or sexual, no– it was his vulnerability. His personal thoughts and feelings, memories of his past and descriptions of his nightmares that he refused to share with you, telling you they were too dark, or that he couldn’t remember them. Even now, you skimmed over what he had written without really reading them, knowing that he hadn’t wanted you to be privy to those parts of him. It broke your heart to see him being so open with her, so lacking in defenses, when you had literally been right there, yet he’d kept you at arm’s length, all without you knowing it.

Vix: What did you tell her about the sparring match?

>> The truth. It was just an intense practice session.

Vix: So you didn’t mention your hard-on, then? >> That was just a physical reaction. The adrenaline from the fight. It had nothing to do with you.

Vix: lol Keep telling yourself that, Jamie.

>> Vix. Vix: Relax, I’m just teasing xoxo

>> Yeah, I know.

Your hands were shaking. “I fucking knew it,” you seethed.

“Knew what?” Bucky looked like a deer trapped in headlights.

“That fucking sparring match,” you said through clenched teeth, your eyes beginning to water. “I fucking knew there was something sexual going on between you two, and you lied to my god damned face! And then, what? You fucked me with the erection she gave you? God, I knew you looked guilty. I could see it in your fucking eyes!”

“Okay, yes, but no!” Bucky said. “Yeah, I felt guilty because I got hard during the fight, and I was worried you saw it, but it really didn’t have anything to do with her! It’s… it’s a thing that happens to me, sometimes. Doesn’t matter who I’m fighting with. It’s, uh, happened when I’ve sparred with Steve– ” You shot him a look, skeptical. “I swear; you can ask him!” he continued. “It… look, I’m pretty sure it’s a hold out from the… things… Hydra did to me. When they were turning me into the Winter Soldier. The details are hazy, the memories aren’t all there, but… I have… flashes… how they used to, uh, stimulate me, to get me to do what they wanted me to do.”

You looked at him, waiting for more details, but he didn’t offer them. He obviously still didn’t trust you with those parts of himself, even now. “But, I swear to you– as soon as I saw that look on your face, it was gone. I felt awful, knowing what you would think if you’d noticed. That killed it, instantly. When we were together, later, that was all because of you. It was all for you.” He took in your expression. “You don’t believe me.”

“Seems to be a pretty convenient excuse, don’t you think?” you asked. You felt like a bitch, on the off chance he was telling you the truth, if his erection had been based on the conditioning of decades of sexual abuse on top of the physical and psychological trauma he had endured, but he’d eroded your trust so thoroughly, you couldn’t help but doubt.

“You think I’d lie to you about something Hydra did to me?” he asked you, hurt. “Something like that?” You could hear the unanswered question in his voice: Something horrible we’ve both been through?

You shrugged, knowing you were being cruel. “How should I know? I’m not the one you’ve been sharing your secrets with, so I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s another lie.”

Bucky grimaced, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You, of all people, knew how shameful discussing sexual abuse could make one feel, but you’d always been honest and open with him about what had happened to you, because you had trusted him. It was hurtful to know he’d been through something similar and hadn’t afforded you the same trust in return, even though you knew you had no right to demand it of him. But he had given it so freely to her.

You went back to the texts, hoping you had read the worst, but dreading there was still more to come.

He told her about your fights. That was difficult to read, knowing that he had made her privy to the lowest points in your private relationship, and how she must have been eating it up. >> I just don’t know what more she wants from me.

>> What more she expects me to do.

>> One minute she’s furious with me, and the next minute, she’s saying she doesn’t care.

Vix: She’s messing with you. Fucking with your emotions to show she can control you.

Vix: Why do you keep putting up with this?

>> I don’t know. Sometimes I

Vix: ???

>> Nevermind.

Vix: What, Jamie? You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.

>> Sometimes I just wish she was maybe a little more like you. More understanding.

You stared down at the screen, unable to move.

“Pocket?” Bucky asked, noticing you hadn’t scrolled in a few minutes.

“You don’t know why you keep putting up with me?” you asked him, voice barely above a whisper. “You wish I was more like her?”

“I was upset,” he said, crouching down in front of you. “That was the night before she went to Malaysia, after I left our room, but before I got her to go to Gino’s. When I could tell you were pulling away, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t really mean it; it was just venting because you had me so confused.”

You stared off into the middle distance as Bucky tried to make eye contact with you, unable to look at him. “I feel like there’s this whole entire side of you you’ve been hiding from me,” you said, speaking to and through him simultaneously. “I don’t know this version of you, at all. And I don’t think I want to.”

“Doll,” Bucky grasped your hands, desperation entering his voice, but you didn’t have the energy to pull away. “Those texts aren’t me. You know me. You know my heart.”

You met his eyes then, the look you gave him full of loss, betrayal, and heartache. “I don’t think I do.��

Bucky’s face cracked; you’d never seen him look so defeated. He took the phone from you and scrolled to the very bottom of the text thread, to the most recent exchange the two had had, from the night of her ‘panic attack.’ Wordlessly, he handed the phone back to you.

Vix: Please, Jamie. I could treat you so much better than she can.

>> I told you, Vix. I’m not going to leave her. I love her.

Vix: But all you do is fight. I can hear you from my room, you know. I know you’re not happy.

>> We fight because of *you*. Please don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to ask Steve to reassign you for training.

Vix: Please don’t do that! I just want to be with you. I could make you so happy.

>> *She* makes me happy. She’s all I want. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it’s how I feel. I’m never gonna love anyone the way I love Pocket. That’s just the way it is.

Vix: You can’t deny there’s something between us!

Vix: I know you feel it!

Vix: We could keep it a secret. She doesn’t need to know.

Vix: You could have both of us.

>> Stop. I don’t want you. And to be honest, I’m disgusted you’d even suggest I cheat on the love of my life.

Vix: You don’t mean that!

>> I do. You need to accept it.

His last message was followed by a barrage of texts from Jade, begging him to respond to her, but he hadn’t. You supposed, in a way, that should make you feel better, but you were so emotionally exhausted, you couldn’t feel much of anything. All you knew was that you should have never read those messages.

“This… this is a lot to process,” you finally said, looking at Bucky. “I don’t really know what to do here.”

Bucky frantically tapped at his phone screen. “Block her number,” he said. “If cuttin’ her out’s what it’s going to take for me to start rebuilding your trust, then I’ll gladly do it. Pozhaluysta, Pocket.” Please, Pocket.

Mechanically, you went through the motions of blocking Jade’s number from Bucky’s phone. “I… don’t know if this is going to be enough, Bucky,” you told him, handing it back. “Those things I read just now… They’re honestly making me question everything. Our entire history.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said, putting his forehead to yours. “If this is just step one, then it’s step one. I’ll take however many steps you ask me to until I make this right.”

“You’ve gotta be one hundred percent on this, Buck,” you said. “Because if you’re not, if I find out that you couldn’t keep this promise to me, there’s no coming back. You’ll be the one who’s so iced out, it’ll make Siberia feel downright tropical.”

Bucky grinned slightly. “I’m positive, sweets,” he said, putting a hand on top of yours. “You’re all I want, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. It was just that, well, you didn’t fucking trust him. “FRIDAY?” you called.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“Please alert me any and every time Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Carthage have an interaction in the Tower going forward. I request audio and video footage be sent to me immediately should they cross paths.”

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N). For clarification, do you want alerts for physical, audio, or digital interactions to be sent to you?”

“All of it, FRIDAY,” you said, watching Bucky very carefully for any sign of discomfort or uneasiness over your course of action, but you saw none. “And do not allow an override without my express verbal consent and company password.”

The AI agreed and promised to alert you if any such interaction occurred.

“That was very thorough,” Bucky said, sounding somewhat petulant. “You really had to cover all the bases, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to have someone I trust keeping an eye out on things,” you said pointedly. Bucky flinched, the expression on his face faltering.

“I am going to make this right, doll. I swear to you.”

“I’m tired of you telling me, Buck,” you said, really needing to drive your point home. “It's your last chance to actually grow up and start showing me.”

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

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