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traveler-at-heart · 21 hours ago

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Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying” you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I’ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

“Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her. “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?”�� she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

“Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

226 notes · View notes

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 day ago

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@zepskies

Ooo Yay! I can't wait to see what you thought about this UNHINGED fic 😂

On one hand, perfect makeout music. On the other hand, Dean is SOOOO freakin' jealous, but it's so frustrating that pushing down his own feelings for her has resulted in him being such a dick to her, before and during this moment. 😫😫

Oh yes, definitely setting the mood for the reader and Ben in the back seat lol. We all know that Dean has probably pulled the same thing in the past 😆 Dean is VERY jealous and it's only pushing the reader away from him more, but he can't stop it. He's stuck in a vicious cycle that is turning into one of Dante's circles of hell when Ben showed up LOL.

*snorts* I love both of these analogies. 🤣

Thank you! I was like... what else has a roadtrip in it? 😂

Deaaaaaan you complete and utter idiot!! What's even worse is that she did feel that spark with him when they first met, until he opened his big dumb mouth lmao.

He really has pushed down his feelings, a few people have pointed out to me that Dean is acting like the playground bully who likes a girl but can't express it in a healthy way and that is one million percent what's happening here lol. The reader did like him when they first met, but again he just didn't express his feelings in a healthy way and now he has to sit and watch Ben and the reader make out in the back seat of his car 😂

Lol sounds like the Winchester Way to me. 🫠

Absolutely 👏🏻 The reader is basically the male version of Dean tbh. Except she shoved down her feelings and then went to sleep with someone who looked exactly like Dean 🤣 Because that was also healthy right? lol

My heart was so torn throughout this entire fic, you have no idea!! The way she manages to pacify him loll. So sweet and sexy in a way, but also, you get the sense that she thinks Ben might just see her as a pretty face, even if he does care about her deep down? It makes you wonder where her heart is truly going to lie at the end of all this angsty love-triangle goodness.

Mine was too! I literally kept going back and forth from Ben to Dean, trying to figure out who she should be with. Because she has incredible chemistry with Ben and she understands him in a way that I think he's not used to. And on the other hand Dean understands her because she's a hunter, he's just being a stubborn idiot 🤣

AND you're right! The reader thinks that Ben only sees her as a pretty face at the moment. She doesn't understand that he has started to develop feelings for her. But I think that the reader also believes that Ben has the possibility to become more than just someone she sleeps with. That he could love her if she let him and if she loved him.

Oh my God this part was completely unhinged and it was hilarious! But the way Ben decides to "get rid of her" is unfortunately on-brand, not caring enough about the collateral damage, the risk of the reader getting hurt. 💔 Even though he does check on her afterwards, the way Dean protected her has my heart swinging back to him and melting in a whole different way!! 😫 Gah! This is so conflicting! loll don't do this to me, friend. 😂😂 I need to dive right into Part 3 so I get to see what happens between her, Ben, and Dean, and just who will confess their feelings first...

Yes see, I went to see Wicked with my friends the weekend before I wrote this and you have no idea how much I love the OC Iris that I made for this fic. I was also thinking "how many references to How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days can I put in one fic?" lol. I was sad that I had to kill her- but it had to be done. There needed to be a dramatic moment where Dean chose to save the reader and give the reader a little bit of doubt about Ben and also show the way he is (unfortunately). But Ben coming to check on the reader literally put me on the fence all over again because he was being soft for her 😭

I'm so sorry to do that to you my friend!! But admit it, you love the angst lmao 💞😉

Thank you so much for all your comments my lovely friend! I always love to hear what you think! And I can't wait to read what you think of Part 3! 💗

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!”

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz @impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah

@lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed @justwhisperingfantasies

@lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99

@bitchykittenconnoisseur

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fratttymatty · 2 days ago

Text

The Algorithm's Curse

(All characters are 18+)

Eliot Farrow sat in the farthest corner of the school library, hunched over a battered copy of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. The world around him didn’t exist—just the words on the page, the scent of aging paper, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights above. He adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses and pulled his oversized cardigan tighter around himself.

He had no patience for stupidity. And high school? High school was nothing but stupidity.

Loud voices shattered the peace.

"Bro, that new TikTok trend? Fire."

"Dude, that transition? Insane."

Eliot barely held back a groan. The table across the room was occupied by the worst kind of people—athletic, vain, TikTok-obsessed jocks. They spoke in half-sentences, grunted like cavemen, and used words like "rizz".

His best (and only) friend, Jasper, leaned in, whispering, “Imagine you on TikTok.”

Eliot snorted. “I’d rather be lobotomized.”

But later that night, lying in bed, he hesitated.

Just one peek. Just to confirm how dumb it was.

He downloaded TikTok.

And that was the last mistake Eliot Farrow ever made.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. His For You Page had political debates, book reviews, history facts—exactly what he expected. But then, an odd video appeared.

"Tired of being a nobody? Want to be HOT? Watch this every day."

The guy in the video was everything Eliot despised—tan, muscular, shirtless, flexing in a mirror while electronic bass thumped in the background.

Cringe.

He scrolled past.

But another appeared. Then another. And another.

"Stop scrolling, bro. This is the mindset shift you need."

"If you’re not at the gym, what are you even doing with your life?"

"Upgrade your look, upgrade your life. Trust the algorithm."

A strange sensation crept up his spine. His phone screen glowed, the TikTok symbol pulsing like a heartbeat. His vision blurred, the world warping around him.

His skin burned. His bones ached. His sweater suddenly felt suffocating.

Something was changing.

He looked down. His sleeves had vanished. In their place, a sleeveless compression shirt clung to his body, showing off—wait—his biceps? His fingers twitched. They were different. Tanned, veins visible, nails trimmed to perfection.

He stumbled to the mirror.

A stranger stared back.

Gone were the glasses, the soft curls, the pale complexion. In their place: tousled brown hair, styled in effortless, boyish waves—the kind that made girls comment "OMG ur literally perfect 😩." His once-slender frame was now toned, shoulders broader, jawline sharp enough to slice.

His lips moved on their own. "Bro, what the hell?"

Wait. His voice.

It was deeper. Smoother. Confident.

His phone vibrated.

"Yo, Axton. Where u at? Party’s lit, bro."

Axton?

His fingers moved before his brain could catch up. "Bet, bro. Omw."

The house party was packed. Music thumped, neon lights flickered, bodies swayed in sync.

Axton—because that’s who he was now—stepped inside. And people noticed.

Jocks threw up handshakes. Girls stared, whispering. His body knew what to do. His posture? Perfect. His smirk? Effortless. His TikTok-clout brain pre-loaded with the right phrases.

"Ayy, my guy!" Some dude clapped him on the back. "Bro, your last thirst trap? Wild engagement, man."

Axton laughed, though he barely remembered posting it. His memories were… fuzzy. Books? Gone. Political debates? Who cared? He didn't need intelligence. He had hype.

Then, he saw her.

The perfect girl.

Long blonde hair. Perfect tan. A crop top that read “Brat Energy”. Glossy lips, manicured nails, and a vacant but stunning expression.

She gasped, bouncing on her toes. "Axton, oh my God!"

His arms were around her before he could think.

She giggled, twirling her hair. "We are, like, literally couple goals."

Somewhere deep inside him, a voice whispered. This isn’t you. You’re Eliot. You love books. You—

The thought vanished as she pressed closer.

Because Axton was hot.

And when you're hot, nothing else matters.

In fact, if Axton ever got into controversy, people wouldn’t care.

"idc what he did he’s literally so fine 😍"

And honestly? Same.

#male tf #male tf story #gay to straight #nerd to jock #smart to dumb #gym bro tf #conservative tf #lib to con

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oikarma · 2 days ago

Text

terrible things

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: people like to say love is a static thing-it sparks at first sight and never fizzes out. but maybe it just takes on a different feeling, quite like the ever-changing colors of a flame.

a/n: new month new ending! this is the last part to the number one girl series. hope you enjoy <3

part one / part two / part three

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by 703,924 others

f1gossipofficial: Max Verstappen was spotted walking Y/N L/N to dinner from electric lady studios! Two things are on our mind: new music and an old flame.

tagged: yourinstagram, maxverstappen

view all 53,681 comments

user1: i feel like this is going to get messy real quick..

user2: MY YNMAX HEART 🥺 ARE THEY FINALLY TOGETHER

user3: hello? what about lewis FREAKING hamilton?

user4: not y/n in her homewrecker era

user5: woah woah she was there WAY before kelly user6: kelly and max announced their split months ago user7: ikr how are people defending her

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@/charmschoolgirl She is definitely releasing new music. So happy! I hope the Grammy's don't snub her this year.

@/its2ayem freak bro 😭 she just said that her and lewis have never agreed to anything beyond friends & he is one of her closest friends

@/genericuser5 who is this diva 💜

@/bananas I lowk felt bad when the interviewer asked about Max. You could like...see it on her face. How she didn't want to talk about it.

@/charlesdannate but!! she said they were on talking terms again!! and they'd reconciled and also that photo of them leaving els!!!!!!! YN LOVE SONG ABOUT MAX?

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liked by lando, jennierubyjane and 3,910,514 others

yourinstagram: TOO MUCH TO LOSE / FEB 2

view all 702,193 comments

francolapinto: mother 🛐

user1: oh next year is going to be HELL for him user2: @/lewishamilton @/maxverstappen idek which one of you she's dating but DO SOMETHING yourinstagram: oh franco...don't you think i'm a bit too old for you? user3: @/yourinstagram y/n bae he dated a mother of like 3 kids or something age is nothing LMAOAOAO user4: franco's mommy kink allegations r never going away

user5: red is SO your color!!

user6: i love how even her looks r maturing? like on burnout it was all schoolgirl, teen, naive and this album is SERVING.

luxurylaw: pleasure to style you !!

yourinstagram: nono it was MY honor

user7: time to wager. is this a baddie (i eat men) album or a breakup (???) album

user8: well she's all cozy w max now so maybe something happened with lewis? user9: @/user8 WHYYY I LOVED THEM TOGETHER

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r/popheads · 1 wk. ago jammies_on_all_night

Y/N L/N - TOO MUCH TO LOSE [MEGATHREAD]

This megathread is to be used for discussion regarding Y/N L/N's second album, as well as articles and reviews of the album. The album, Too Much to Lose, comes out at midnight in PST.

Please keep all reviews to the megathread - I will attempt to keep the post updated with reviews, please feel free to DM me if I've missed any.

Links to any leaks, as well as asking for any, will not be allowed in this megathread.

Album Links:

Spotify

Apple Music

TIDAL

Amazon Music

Tracklist:

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

prelude in e minor

cornerstone

tis the damn season

i love you, i'm sorry

heavenly

terrible things

don't look back in anger

This thread will be updated with important links for release day events, reviews of the album, etc.

ynsgirlfriend: I was expecting another pop-y album but this was so much more heartfelt. WCBF eats so hard. SO HARD.

↳ dannyric03: Love her growth. Also, the way the album goes from distancing herself (we can't be friends, duh) until the time is right and finding so much beauty in what time you have (terrible things). I don't even want to speculate who the album is about. It's...beautiful. ↳ User5: calling it rn. wcbf (wfyl) is going to be a smash hit on the radio

CharliesPrelude2: literally came up w my user after charlie's prelude (based off of chopin's prelude in e minor) SO Y/N ACKNOWLEDGED ME

↳ SalsaBird: LOL. Loved her on that track. Didn't expect them but they were haunting. Honestly, I'm surprised at how insane her vocals are.

Sharks1039: Trying to decode this. bear with me. [1/2] 1. we can't be friends (wait for your love) - i feel like this is pretty obviously about max. not exactly, bcs i think we've garnered it was y/n who left him first after THAT night (thanks burnout!!) but the fact that she's learning to live without him. even though she still wishes they could be friends. just my interpretation. 2. prelude in e minor - i don't know. it's beautiful. it's chopin. it's y/n. it's just there and a good transition into the rest of the album? it really cleared up my mind and helped me appreciate the other songs. 3. cornerstone - seeing that person in every place. "thought i saw you at the X, but it was only a lookalike." idk who's perspective this is supposed to be from. the message is imo such longing you look for it everywhere. 4. tis the damn season - i feel like the lyrics point toward max (hometown, etc.) but i also feel like we've never really seen anything in the last 4 years indicating a reunion like that. after we stopped seeing her and lewis (we saw them SM last year) i thought something might've gone wrong? i'm p sure they're still on friendly terms, they comment on each other's posts, etc. but less close. maybe some regret from her side?

↳ ApplestoApples: I KNEW I wasn't the only one who thought "tis the damn season" gave Lewis. They hinted at a sort of romance. Especially when Lewis visited Y/N in her hometown (they took a few pictures with fans who'd spotted them). "It always leads to you, in my hometown" is probably about her thinking a lot about that. Sad they didn't work out. Loved how well he treated her and how happy they seemed. ↳ Sharks1039: @/ApplestoApples how did i not know that. omfg it's so about lewis. ↳ Shakes1039: anyway part two of my yap. [2/2] 5. i love you i'm sorry - "you were the best but you were the worst, as sick as it sounds i loved you first" ??? i don't even know what this means but damn girl i hope you're ok now. 6. heavenly - this is such a love song. lowkey found it a TINY bit jarring when we went from ilyis to heavenly but it's more like. i love you (im sorry) to i love you (i'm not)? that's the only explanation i can think of. banger, though. 7. terrible things - MY FAVORITE SONG. ALSO SHOULD BE YOURS. "i can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me" hello. i bawled hearing this. i'm so glad she's found love because it seemed like the max thing shook her up so bad. "don't fall in love, there's just too much to lose ... i beg you to choose to walk away" oh my god. she still sounds pretty worried about how strong love is and how losing a loved one will hurt... 8. don't look back in anger - oasis cover. live. i feel like given the previous song (terrible things) it's like when you walk away to protect yourself from love, don't look back in anger. and at the end of the day, i think this is an album about max. some people talk about how she has growth through the album but honestly idrk about that. it's just her coming to terms with her actions. it's an album about being in love and all the bad things that happen when you're in love. it's an album about deciding to walk away to not hurt yourself. but at the end of the day, people are overcoming that desire to protect themselves. they want to love, even if it hurts.

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liked by lewishamilton and 1,203,864 others

yourinstagram: hello everyone! happy valentine's ♡ i just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for the support you have shown my music. everyone says this, but the songs i put out are pieces of my heart. they are lessons i have learned and stories i want to tell. some of you have already figured this out, but a little piece of advice:

don't be afraid to love. there are much more terrible things to experience.

view all 291,473 comments

yourinstagram: i mean don't be afraid to love in reasonable circumstances!! 😭 don't be afraid to love if people discourage it, if your heart truly wants it. pls be afraid to love if you're being forced against your will. love you all so much, take care and make good decisions!

user1: she's so real for freaking out over misinterpretation user2: sorry ma'am reading fics of your man as a mafia boss has stopped me from mafia reasonable decisions

lewishamilton: happy valentine's, y/n

yourinstagram: hope the grapes did something for you user3: roman empire unlocked. user4: omfg 😭 not the grapes

user5: hold up. why is no one talking about that photo. it's not in any of her music videos?? she's in that dress in the dlbia live performance but WHEN WAS IT TAKEN

user6: i bet it's max. user7: it's totally max. user8: RELATIONSHIP UPDATE PLS @/yourinstagram

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liked by yourinstagram and 5,019,432 others

maxverstappen: Home is where the heart is.

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 715,893 comments

user1: HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH

user2: it's real omg!!

user3: haven't seen y/n in ages THANK U FOR THE CRUMBS MAX

user4: the way he looks at her...

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liked by 732,891 others

f1gossipofficial: Max Verstappen spotted crying after last Dutch GP. All our hearts are equally as heavy.

view all 13,405 comments

user1: poor man. last year of zandvoort. i'll miss it too

user2: i'm sure y/n will cheer him up! missed seeing her at the last few races

user3: omg what if she's pregnant... user4: girl 😭 i like to think max would've learned from kelly and put a ring on her BEFORE the baby user5: @/user3 yea the last photo we saw of her was like months ago and she was wearing a fur around her waist so we couldn't see much

user5: rip dutch gp.

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maxverstappen: Life can do terrible things. But you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

tagged: yourinstagram

Comments on this post have been limited.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

BREAKING: Max Verstappen has retired from racing. He has reportedly moved back to the Netherlands with remaining family.

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INTERVIEW WITH HUGH L/N-VERSTAPPEN

...

INTERVIEWER: Moving on, congratulations on the Best Actor award!

HUGH gives the interviewer a shy smile. He takes a sip of the coffee in his hands: Thanks. I was so surprised. I didn't think people enjoyed my performance that much.

INTERVIEWER: Well I guess you were proven wrong. How do you feel about following in your mother's footsteps, instead of racing like your father?

HUGH pauses before speaking: I suppose...I sometimes wonder if I would be suited for it. If I could've done more. At the end of the day, acting feels like keeping my mother's legacy. Many people remember her as my dad's wife, or just a songwriter. She went into acting because she loved it. I just wish she was more recognized for it.

[ There is a moment of silence as Hugh plays with the cup in his hands. ]

INTERVIEWER: I know your acceptance speech brought quite a few people to tears. It was very moving.

HUGH nods: I didn't mean to. I just wanted to thank my mom one more time. And my dad, too.

INTERVIEWER: It was a good kind of tears, I'm sure.

HUGH laughs.

INTERVIEWER: Which of your mother's songs is your favorite?

HUGH: Well, my dad used to try singing "terrible things" to me. He's not a great singer, so emphasis on the try.

INTERVIEWER: If I'm not wrong, the song does say "now son, I'm only telling you this because life does terrible things." Is it like a message to you?

HUGH: Yeah. I know the song is about how hard love is and how painful it is. But she did it anyway. What's my excuse? Life is short and there's so much to experience.

INTERVIEWER is handed a note. THEIR eyebrows furrow, looking at HUGH: Sorry, would you be comfortable answering a question about your dad? I know you only agreed to talking about Y/N. We can cut this part out if you mind.

HUGH shakes his head: No, it's quite alright. What was the question?

INTERVIEWER: Well, your father hasn't made any public appearances save for your Academy Award win. It's been many years...would he like to pass on a message?

HUGH: Oh, my dad loves to talk. Let me think. He's old, you know that. I think he enjoys the quiet life. He wouldn't survive in an F1 car nowadays, but he still enjoys driving.

[ HUGH thinks. The INTERVIEWER doesn't prompt him. ]

HUGH smiles to himself: I don't think he'll be showing up at any of my future premieres. Don't expect that. It's been a while, yeah. But he's happy with his years. He said he's close to seeing her again.

INTERVIEWER only nods. There are tears in both their eyes.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a/n: it's over! lowk felt bad for the ending. but i think i like it this way. sorry ynlewis stans. i just think. at the end of the day they would find their way back to each other.

#formula one #max verstappen x reader #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 x you #max verstappen #f1 smau #smau #x reader #oikarma ᯓᡣ𐭩

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freakbabyy · 2 days ago

Text

soft universe - Eris Vanserra x Princess!Reader Chapter One

< prologue | chapter one | chapter two >

2.466k words

warnings: swearing, some mentions of neglect.

"This is Prythian/common tongue."

"This is Valhallian."

woohoo second part!!! thank you for the love on this so far, made my entire day so i HAD to update again today!!

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Story preview: Y/N Erling - youngest descendent to the King of Vallahan, not special, youngest of seven girls and four boys, and certainly not next in line to the throne. A kind soul, free-natured, always does what's asked. Content with spending the rest of her fae life taking care of her nieces and nephews while her elder siblings dealt with court dealings. That was until they drew up an agreement - her hand in exchange for their agreement to the treaty with Prythian. Enter Eris Vanserra - new high lord who did not want a wife, nor a mate. Can they work it out together - under pressure from a blood rite, a language barrier, a culture barrier, and Eris' unfortunate attempts at flirting.

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chapter one - hunger

Third Person

Y/N Erling was a lovely, ethereal, hardworking, loyal, and polite fae. However, she was also known as overly-gentle, meek, childish, capricious, and a pushover princess; something everyone had come to know her as. Vallahan was known to be aggressive, its people proud; something that wasn’t necessarily bad until they became greedy as well. Her parents, Gunjar and Sigurd, were just rulers – when they wanted to be - Y/N wasn't sure the same of their parenting.

After three children, they needn’t train their other children directly – and after seven children they barely acknowledged any after that. Her eldest siblings – twins – Helgi and Rolf, were born to take the throne, literally, Rolf born to take over the ruling position and Helgi born to be a diplomat. Next came Stellan who was born to be head of the kingsguard, never stopped training as a boy- even when he accidentally cut off his finger. The children after them were schooled, of course until they hit ten – and left Y/N, eleventh, to fend for herself – as much as you could in a castle in the side of a mountain.

By the time Y/N was born, her eldest siblings were old enough to care for the younger ones – and by the time she became old enough to care for children, her siblings started families of their own. There was never a day without a babe in the castle in the mountain, and when asking her siblings for help – they were already grown enough to have their own jobs. It fell to Y/N to take over the role of nanny, abandoning her own goals and career paths for this, and she didn’t say no. Pushover, the citizens whispered. And they were right to an extent, at least Y/N believed them.

When the time came for a treaty, and they couldn’t stall anymore, they thought to themselves, “What could we compromise, that we wouldn’t miss too dearly?”. Obviously, that was how we got to where we are now, Y/N Erling, standing in the grand hall alone. Suitcases packed, which was more of a singular large bag, handwoven it seemed with the utmost care. Waiting in the grand, cold, empty hall – all alone – for the only friend she has made that wasn’t a direct relative to her, before the resounding whoosh appeared.

Y/N’s POV

“Oh! Good morning, Princess!” The golden locks of The Morrigan bounced as she jumped, startled. “Are you ready? I’m sorry for my tardiness.”

“Yes.” I cleared my throat, replying in my best Prythian. I nodded just to make sure the message was clear. Morrigan’s Valhalllian had gotten better – though her speech was formal still. “Ready.”

“We can speak Valhallian if it makes you more comfortable, Y/N. I don’t mind,” The Morrigan slung my bag over her shoulders, and offered a hand for travel.

“No,” I shook my head stubbornly, grasping her warm hand in mine, “No Vallahan there, The Morrigan”

“Just Mor’s fine.” She smiled, “Have you said your goodbyes to your family? I don’t see anyone?” She motioned around, and I understood most of what she said, taking a minute to put it all together.

“I goodbye.” I smiled in reassurance, before she grasped my hand tighter and winnowed us.

The first thing I noticed other than the disorienting feeling, was that it smelled lovely wherever we were. When I opened my eyes, it was even more beautiful than I imagined as well. We were on a balcony of sorts overlooking the most beautiful city I had ever seen. It was big, bigger than any town I had seen before. I must have uttered a praise, as someone next to us cleared their throat.

“Thank you, and welcome, Princess.” The man greeted in perfect Valhallian, an even more formal dialect than Morrigan had. “I am the High Lord, Rhysand. This is my wife and High Lady, Feyre.”

Training kicked in, and I immediately dropped to the ground, head to the stone floor and hands above my head, outstretched as far as I could. It was proper to address higher authority with a bow, and in front of me were proper heroes. Feyre Cursebreaker alone was enough to have me at the floor, and The High Lord of the Night Court at her side even more.

“Oh!” I felt a pair of hands grasping my own, “Are you alright?”

“It’s part of her culture,” The High Lord smiled a bit, bowing his own head to me, “It’s a sign of respect, you bow at someone of higher respect, the lower the more respect.”

“She did the same for me, I thought she had fainted when we first met.” Morrigan spoke up, resting a hand on my shoulder. “And then again the next time she did it.”

I was not expecting Rhysand to bent at the waist, dipping his head in my direction. I returned it, grateful for the respect – but not expecting it. I was even less prepared for the High Lady, Feyre Cursebreaker, dropping to the floor at my feet, hands outstretched and forehead to the ground. I scrambled to the ground when I had realized, too mortified to react at first.

“No, not me, not for me!” I helped her up, and she smiled wide, showing her teeth.

“Yes, for you! I respect you, even more for doing this – for all of us. For our futures.” She held my hands in her own delicate ones. I bowed my head to her at this, understanding most of what she had said, but knew she meant it at the emotion in her eyes.

“Thank you.” I replied, peering behind them at the house, “Castle in Sky.”

Morrigan laughed at that, grabbing my bag again, before opening the door to the side for us,

“I keep telling Rhysand this is a castle, he always insists it isn’t.” I followed, taking in the large lounge area we had walked into.

“Ah, are you up for company?” Rhysand questioned, hand on an adjoining door.

“Yes,” I replied, watching Morrigan lounge on a red chair off to the side, Feyre doing the same opposite of her.

“Then may I introduce my inner circle,” Rhysand opened the door, through it seemed to be a dining area, which held a good amount of people, each coming in a single file and lounging as the rest had. “Please introduce yourselves,”

“Pleasure to meet you, Princess, I am the emissary of the Night Court, Lucien. We’ve met in a brief meeting before,” He was leaning against the window, as though he preferred the view over sitting.

“Yes, eyeball!” I clasped my hand over my mouth, glowing red at how my filter had seemingly been left at home. “I am so sorry, my body!” I grew frustrated, not remembering the correct word to say.

“We had just done her anatomy word lesson that day, when you stopped in to say hello.” Morrigan fixed for me, emphasizing the word anatomy. “She finally remembered the word for eyeball because she thought of you when you visited,”

“Well, my honor for helping you learn.” He smiled, not mad at the implications clearly. He looked to who was sitting closest to him, a female with the same face as Feyre.

“I am Nesta, and this is Elain. We are Feyre’s sisters.” She motioned to the girl opposite of her, Nesta in dark clothing, and Elain wearing a lovely dress. “I hear you have siblings, too.”

“Ah, ten.”

“TEN?” The male across the room spoke, with long hair, when he next spoke, he held up all his fingers, “As in?”

“Ten, yes. Four boys, six girls. Older.” I listed them by the fingers on my hand, “Two - Helgi and Rolf, Stellan, Marcus, Two – Vidia and Viola, Cedric, Two – Agatha and Clare, Sybil, Beatriz, and then me.”

“Two?”

“Twins.” Morrigan answered the male again at his question, and I had noted that word in my mind for two, or the same? I'd have to ask later.

“Here I thought two sisters were a handful,” Nesta spoke, letting out a breath, “I’m never having that many kids.”

“Well, I have no others that share my blood, and happy about it – more jewelry for me.” The female with a goblet had spoken up from beside the gowned sister, Elain, “Amren.”

I fell to the ground again, at the name. My forehead sore from the quickness I had done it at, knocking my head against the wooden floors.

“What happened?”

“Amren, you killed her!”

“All I did was look at her!”

“Did she faint?”

“She’s not dead, you idiot.” Morrigan grabbed my arms again, “We seriously have to work on this, or at least get you a helmet.”

“It’s how her culture shows respect, the lower the bow the greater respect – usually to authority figures or in this case, powerful ones.” Rhysand explained, pouring more wine in his own glass, seated beside Feyre.

“Interesting. Maybe we should implement this for all of Prythian, because I feel powerful.” Amren smirked, but before moving on, bowed back the tiniest bit, drinking from her goblet.

“Well, you already know Feyre, Rhys and I, next!” Morrigan gestured to the remaining members, two males. The one who kept speaking earlier, and the one who has yet to speak.

“Afraid I’m not as powerful as Amren here, but I might come a close second,” The long haired one grinned, putting his hand out towards me, and holding it. “General Cassian,” I stared at his hand, then back at him, to bow.

“Ah, you shake it. It’s how we greet people here sometimes.” Cassian clarified, as I grasped the top of his fingers, and bringing his hand up and down, smiling more. “Uh, sure, good enough.”

“Thank you for teaching me, Lord Cassian.” A sound of choking came from across the room, we all turned to Morrigan, dabbing wine from her shirt and mouth.

“Sorry, that was just the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Moving on, I turned to the last remaining male, finally noting that they held wings. Looking back and forth between the two, pointing at them,

“Ah! Dark butterfly!” I turned to Morrigan, excitedly pointing, recognizing them from the book we had been working through, a children's one, but we had almost finished it. The rest were highly amused at my exclamation, the two-winged males standing, awestruck.

“Yes, that’s... That’s right, but the proper word is ‘Bat’. Bat wings, if we were to be specific.”

“Ah, bat.” I tested the word, finding it tickling the tip of my tongue at the syllables. “Nice to greet you.”

“Thank you for that, truly, I’ll never forget to call Cassian that again. My name is Azriel. We’ve met as well.”

“Yes, the tiny people.” I motioned to his feet, the dark mist already formed since his entrance. “Hello, tiny people.”

“They say it back.” Azriel smirked a bit, the shadows seemingly liking this new person, who acknowledges them.

“They talk?” Elain questioned, glancing around, everyone almost having the same reaction, curiosity.

“They do, to shadowsingers-” Cassian cut his brother off, to his displeasure.

“You’re a shadowsinger?”

“No,”

“Do you have a gift?” Amren wondered, I quickly took off my rings, and presented them to the silver eyed fae, on my knees to properly present it.

“Yes,”

“No! Amren! Give those back- She means if you have powers.” Amren went to hand it back, though I pushed her hands away, refusing them back. She looked better with them anyway.

“Ah, yes!”

“What is it?”

“Oh, no.”

“So you don’t have a power?”

“She does,” Morrigan glanced to Rhysand, apparently, she hadn’t told anyone as no one has removed the curious look from their faces. “She doesn’t know how to say what it is, and to be honest we aren’t sure how exactly it works, but she calls it Blóð.”

“Bl-oof?”

“Ah, Blóð!” I nodded, the pronunciation being correct and nodded at Feyre, who smiled back.

“So, what we know – is that if her blood comes in contact with yours, she can utilize some of your power.” Morrigan motioned to Azriel, “Azriel showed up one time when I was in Vallahan, needing some stitches on his back, and I was with Y/N that day – she helped me stitch him up, and had a papercut earlier-”

“The next thing I knew, was that my shadows were talking – but not to me.” Azriel finished, “It only lasted for about an hour, and then she said she couldn’t hear them anymore. But she still likes to talk to them.”

“This is huge,” Amren spoke, “Who knows what she could really do? Does her family know?”

“They think I have normal family power,” I tried to explain why, but didn’t know the complicated words yet, wishing I had a quill and paper. “I came in different from my siblings,” Both items I wished for appeared on the table in front of where I sat on the floor, “Oh, Magic!”

I gladly took them, sketching out my family tree, leaving a lot of empty branches in between my siblings and I, and held it up for them to see,

“My mother had seventeen babies, and only ten survived.” I pointed to the names, demonstrating to the other empty slots.

“But you have ten siblings, so eleven survived?” Feyre pointed out, and I smiled,

“No, ten survived. I was born and did not cry, I was uh, This color!” I pointed to Lucien’s tunic, a pale sad color, “But suddenly a wave went through the entire continent, and when it happened, I was crying. This shake made me live, after two hours of no heart.”

“When did this happen? This shake? Wait a minute, how old are you?” Nesta had demanded, looking at Rhysand as if he were a cradle robber.

“Ah, twenty-three years ago. The treaty talks began on my second birthday.”

“Wait! But,” Nesta spoke again, eyes darting to her sisters and the High Lord, “That’s when-”

“That’s when the cauldron came alive again, became whole. The cauldron brought you alive?” Feyre spoke, eyes set with something I couldn’t figure out.

“I don’t know, I never learned.” I sat once more, besides Morrigan this time, who began explaining. She became a sort of expert on me the past month.

“She was never taught like her siblings, things of the war picked up and they didn’t deem it necessary. Unless they didn’t want her to find out? I truly don’t know.”

“My siblings always called me special, called me blessed – but different from everyone else.” I recalled Vidia, secretly my favorite sister and best friend who sometimes read me books.

“Y/N, this isn’t normal, you’re cauldron born.” Rhysand spoke, calculating look in his eyes, “You’re made. Like Feyre, like Nesta and Elain.”

“Oh twins!” I tried to incorporate my learning from today to the talk, but it was the last thing I remembered before the world turned black.

-----

hehe sorry for that cliffhanger - but thank you for reading!

taglist:

@bxm-2121 @itsxchar6 @iambored24601 @sparksandstarss

#eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x reader fluff #eris vanserra x reader smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #nesta archeron #elain archeron #feyre cursebreaker #amren

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4vanaa · 2 days ago

Text

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 19

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: none | masterlist | 18 | 20 |

rafeupdates 3h

liked by rafefan, weekndlover, and 25,670 others

rafeupdates Rafe Cameron spotted out with friends tonight in the Outer Banks before his sister’s wedding! He was seen laughing and talking with the group, but fans couldn’t help but notice one mystery girl who had his attention all night. 👀 Who is she??

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carter_bby WHO is the girl in the black dress bc Rafe was looking at her like she hung the moon

rafeszn nahhh this gotta be the girl he’s always singing about… he’s back home, the lyrics always mention ‘small town’ and ‘should’ve never left’ 👀

rafecameronwifey y’all I’m sick. physically unwell.

user not me abt to deep dive through his following. we will FIND HER.

brooklyn24 lmao let me know what you find bc I need answers.

kildarefan someone in the group tagged a girl on their story but her acc is PRIVATE. this might be her 😭

obsessedoverrafe he better not be soft-launching someone right now bc I’ll actually cry.

carolinagirlxo I’m gonna hold off my jealousy until we have real proof but it’s NOT looking good for us 😭

rafeswife the way he’s staring at her in EVERY clip… like sir blink twice if ur okay

user24 um. y’all. the girl literally has a boyfriend 😭 there’s a pic in someone’s story where a guy has his arm around her.

camrafe WAIT and in another one they’re literally kissing wtf. Rafe why u staring like that 😭

basketballbaby NOOOO NOT UNREQUITED FEELINGS I CAN’T DO THIS TODAY

allthingsrafe no bc imagine being her bf and seeing rafe cameron looking at ur girl like that… I’d simply walk into the ocean.

xorafe wait. didn’t he say in that interview last year that he was in love with a girl who had a boyfriend??? and we all thought he was joking??

xoangelkiss LMFAO NOT RAFE LIVING HIS OWN LYRICS. THIS IS A FANFIC.

abelfan the way we should’ve KNOWN bc he makes music w the weeknd… of COURSE he’s gonna be messy 😭

rafeupdates2.0 hold on bc people are saying her bf isn’t even all that… let’s be so serious.

camwife imagine having rafe cameron writing songs abt u and u still picking some random dude. could never be me

user idk y’all I saw the bf and he’s actually kinda fine, like I lowkey get it 😭

user yeah he’s cuteee I’d be loyal too tbh

angelrafe her man is cute but rafe being obsessed with her is kinda eating… like the plot is juicing rn.

rafesgf watch her be an old family friend or something and we’re all losing our minds for nothing 💀

a/n: ngl i think it’s safer for this story, that i don’t write/update bc the only thing in my head is angst angst. i’m sorry it’s taken almost a month for this chapter but i’m like basically finished drafting the rest of the story so.. i originally wanted to end the story on valentine’s day but yk ill say it’ll be done by the end of the month!!

🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous13 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa @drewrry @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not

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sunwonkism · 2 days ago

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A love that waited

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ➪ Synopsis: After confessing at literally the worst time to Jungwon, you both made a promise to each other that in 3 years, if you still want one another, you will meet up in the same place you first met him.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ➪ Pairings: fem!reader x Jungwon

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ➪ Genre: right person, wrong time

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ➪ wc: 2.4k

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ➪ Warnings: implied bsfs, angst, fluff, cursing, not proofread much

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ➪ a/n: I rlly wanted to finish this for Jungwon's birthday, but it feels shitty🧍‍♀️this is inspired by this yt short from mr.spicygremlin! https://youtube.com/shorts/FXGZp_CDqj8?si=sWdKLUQUCs1K6Gsu I love her POVs and enjoy watching them!

January 29th, 2023

You were running in the airport, checking your watch every 5 minutes, trying to get to Jungwon’s gate before he got on his plane.

god, why did you only realize your feelings for him just 2 hours before he leaves for Singapore?

You stopped running to take a short break, panting to catch your breath. You checked your watch to see how much time you have left.

10:40am

His boarding closes in 10 minutes.

“Fuck” you muttered.

Where the hell is gate 12?

You saw a security guard patrolling the area and decided to ask him. “Excuse me” you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to look at you before you spoke again. “Could you tell me where gate 12 is? The person at the front desk said it’s around this area, and I’ve been looking for it for the past 30 minutes.”

He simply gestured to the hallway behind you. “Just a 10 minute walk, you’ll be able to see a big sign that says the gate number.”

You thanked the guard before sprinting in the direction he pointed at.

You didn’t even need to look for the gate number, you spotted him almost instantly. He was on his phone, wearing the bright orange hoodie he loved so much.

“Jungwon!” You shouted, running over to him.

He was getting his ticket verified when he realized he recognized the voice calling out to him. He looked up to check, only to see that it was none other than you.

“Y/n?” He asked, confused. “What are you doing here?”

You stopped to stand in front of him, panting. “Sorry…could…could you give us just 5 minutes please?” You breathed out to the staff member attending to him.

“Only till the line ends.” She briefly responded, attending to the rest of the passengers while lightly pushing Jungwon so he wouldn't hold the line up. And to give you more time for whatever you needed to say to him.

You pulled Jungwon away from the line, to give you both a tiny bit of privacy.

Jungwon was the first to speak up. “So…why are you here? Don’t you have a date with Niki in like, an hou-“

“I’m in love with you.” You said as soon as you caught your breath.

He looked taken aback, you could tell he wasn’t expecting that. “What?” He asked, with confusion and shock written on his face

“I’m in love with you” you repeated. “I had to tell you before you leave. I felt bad when I just left you there after you confessed to me during our last hangout. A-and when you kissed me…I-“. You took a deep breath before continuing.

“The truth is, I was stunned when you told me that you loved me, and ran away when we kissed because I was afraid. I wanted Niki but I also wanted you. I didn’t mean to avoid you when you came to my house…I was just terrified because I wasn’t even sure what to do. I did some self reflection about it and I only realized this morning that…my love for Niki will never compare to the love I have for you. I had to tell you that while I still had the chance.” You confessed.

It was silent for a few minutes before he spoke. “Promise me something” he softly said.

“Anything” you replied, with hope in your eyes.

He held your hands in his before speaking again. “3 years from now, if you still want me. Meet me at the park where we first met at 12pm. You know, where I chased Maeumi down because he kept following you?”

You softly chuckled at the memory. “Okay, I will.”

You heard someone cough from beside you. You turned to look to see it was the staff member calling both of your attention. “Times up, you need to enter the plane now sir,” she said.

Before you can even say a word, you feel Jungwon pulling you into a tight hug.

“I will never forget you, okay? You will always hold a special place in my heart. So don’t forget about me, please.” he pleaded.

You hugged him back, equally as tight. “I could never forget about you, you’re my best friend”. You pulled away from the hug, opting to hold his hands before continuing. “And the first man I fell in love with” you finished, with a small sad smile on your face.

He was about to say something when the staff member called for his attention once again, signaling that he had to board the plane now.

He squeezed your hands before letting them go, silently hoping it won’t be the last time he’ll do it, before following the worker.

He turned around to make eye contact with you one last time, waving his hand at you. You waved back, watching him disappear into the bridge that leads to the entrance of the plane.

That was the last time you saw him.

3 years later…

You woke up to the sound of your alarm clock blaring loudly. You groaned before turning it off, laying back on your bed, already dreading the day ahead.

You were thinking how you really didn't want to go to work today when you heard your roommate, aka your best friend, scream from the other side of your door.

“Y/n wake up right now!!! Do you know what day it is??” yunjin shouted while continuously knocking on your door.

You sat up on your bed with your brows furrowed, utterly confused about what she's saying.

“Yunjin, what on earth are you talking about? It's a Saturday, and I have work?” you replied back to her while going to open the door so that she'll stop the annoying knocking on your door.

You opened your bedroom door to face yunjin before she spoke again.

“Y/n, you have absolutely no idea what today is? None at all?” She asked again with her hands on her hips.

You shook your head.

Yunjin sighed before pointing to the calendar hanging in your room. “Check the date, now.”

“Okay, geez” you mumbled. You walked over to your calendar to see a big red circle drawn around the number 29th of January, with bold letters reading “meet jungwon at the park at 2pm”.

Oh. My. God.

Today is that day?!?!?

You whipped your head around to look for a clock to see it's currently…10am?!?!?

“Shit, I knew I shouldn't have stayed up watching that tv show” you thought.

“I'm gonna be late” you muttered, before dashing to your wardrobe, picking something good to wear.

But then you remembered, you have work today.

“Noo” you whined.

“What is it?” Yunjin asked. You forgot she was still standing there.

You turned to her with a pout on your face. “I've used up all my leaves this month, if I ask for one more I might get fired.”

“Ahh” yunjin mouthed, before speaking. “Well, I know it's supposed to be MY day off today, but then I remembered your meetup with him today. So being the nice friend I am, l covered for you today. Thank me later”.

You squealed before hugging her tightly. “Oh yun thank you thank you thank you! I definitely owe you on this one.”

“Yeah yeah, don't waste anymore time or else you're going to be late.” She replied before pulling away from your hug.

“I'll be outside if you need anything” she said while walking away, leaving the room to give you privacy to change.

You looked back at your wardrobe and just decided to wear an outfit that never lets you down.

You quickly changed into the clothes and went to your vanity to fix up your appearance. Making sure you look the absolute best.

You took one last look at the mirror, making sure you look amazing before heading out of your room to put your shoes on.

“You're not gonna eat anymore?” Yunjin asked, chewing on a piece of bread as you walked past her.

“No time yun it's…” you trailed off, checking your watch.

“11am?!?, I'm so gonna be late” you said while rushing to put on your shoes.

After making sure you have everything you need, you grabbed your keys before going to the front door.

“Bye yun! I'll be going now!” You said, saying goodbye to yunjin.

“Good luck y/nie! Go get him!” You heard her reply, before closing and locking the front door.

“Thanks so much!” You said to the cab driver, giving him your payment before climbing out of the car.

You checked your watch to see it's 11:50, happy that you arrived at the park just in time. “Not bad” you thought.

As you were walking further into the park, you decided to spend the extra 10 minutes thinking about the current situation you're in.

You haven't really spoken to Jungwon in a long time. You lost contact with him when he started becoming busy because of school. When you tried texting him again, you realized he changed his number.

You're not even sure if he still remembers the promise you two made 3 years ago.

You've been having a lot of doubts about this meetup for a long time now. The only reason why you came is because you knew Jungwon is a person who hates breaking his promises.

But it doesn't mean he'll be like that forever.

What if he forgot? What if he doesn't want you anymore? What if he found someone better in Singapore? All kinds of bad thoughts raced through you as you arrived at the exact spot you first met him.

You checked your watch again. 12pm it reads.

“Right on time” you murmured.

Right now all you could do was wait.

This could go two ways. 1, he shows up and you two get your happy ending. Or 2, he doesn't show up, and you just wasted your time waiting for him.

Or 3, he shows up, solely just to let you know he doesn't want you anymore because he can't text it to you.

But from what's happening right now, you think number 2 is currently happening.

It's been 10 minutes since you started waiting for him. You were currently sitting on a nearby bench because your legs started hurting from standing too long.

You wondered if Jungwon got the place wrong, but you knew he couldn't. Or were you just in denial?

20 minutes passed by and he still hasn't showed up. You felt tears well up in your eyes. He forgot, or found someone long ago and couldn't care to tell you.

Just when you're about to get up and leave, thinking you wasted a whole 2 hours rushing over here and yunjin’s day off. Someone stepped in front of you and spoke.

“Am I late?” The person panted, sounding really out of breath.

You looked up to see who the person was, only to see the same man you've been waiting for 20 minutes (and 3 years) for.

He no longer had the dark brown hair you loved to run your fingers through. Now he had platinum blonde hair, which suited him really well.

You always told him how you thought he'd look good in blonde hair before he left.

“Jungwon” you whispered. “You showed up”. You were in utter disbelief that the man you loved and waited for so long is currently standing right in front of you. You felt like crying.

You hadn't realized a tear fell from your eye until Jungwon wiped it for you.

“Shh” he whispered. “It's okay, I'm here now” he said, before pulling you into a tight hug.

As you hugged him back, you let the dam break. Tears were flowing freely from your eyes. You were full on sobbing against his chest, soaking his shirt.

You two were like that for a few minutes before speaking.

“I..I th-thought you for…forgot” you said in between sniffles.

Jungwon pulled away to wipe your years. “I thought you knew I don't break my promises. Did you already forget?” He asked with a sad, but warm smile.

“I just thought…maybe you found someone else…I haven't spoken to you in months…it's hard not to doubt you know?” You mumbled, but clear enough for Jungwon to understand you.

Jungwon held your hands in his, something he deeply missed doing before speaking again.

“Don't you remember what I promised you pretty? ‘If you still want me. Meet me at the park where we first met’, that's what I said, didn't I?”

“I already decided it's you who I wanted 3 years ago. But I didn't want to start our relationship with long distance. And I wasn't sure if you really loved me or if you just said it out of the blue you know..” he trailed off.

He went back to caressing your cheeks with both of his hands.

“Thank you for choosing me. You have absolutely no idea how much I was stressing over today.” He said with a happy grin on his face.

You laughed before responding. “You have no idea how much I worried over this meet up too.” You said with a soft smile. “I have so many things I want to tell you. You missed out on so much stuff while you were away.”

He took one of your hands in his, swinging it around. He was slightly dragging you, signaling you to come along. “Oh yeah? How about you tell me over lunch? Where do you want to eat?” He asked.

You smiled, walking after him. “Sure, I heard there's a popular restaurant just 2 blocks away from here…”.

Divider: @toastray

#enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #jungwon angst #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n

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this-user-is-new · 3 days ago

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nah, actually i can say that here. many people agreed with me.

but anyway, ekko is just a boundless well of compassion who exists solely to make vi look good, right? his entire life shaped by the violence, oppression and systemic cruelty of the enforcers is completely irrelevant when it comes to how he should feel about vi actively choosing to become one. because apparently, his trauma and lived experience just disappear when it’s about her. none of that matters when vi decides to throw on an enforcer uniform. he’s just here to be vi’s emotional support, right?

even if you want to use ekko to make vi look better with how he put everything aside for the greater good in the finale—fine (i'll go back to this tho). he can save her life. he can even work with her out of necessity. but let’s not pretend that means he agrees with her choice or respects it. his entire worldview is built around resisting piltover’s oppression, and the enforcers are literally a tool of that oppression. acting like he’d just set all of that aside for vi’s sake is incredibly stupid *cough* sorry, i meant reductive.

and don’t even get me started on the jinx argument. season 2, as plenty of people have pointed out, skips over a massive chunk of character development, and now you’re using their rushed resolution as some kind of "gotcha" moment to prove ... what, exactly? that because ekko forgave jinx off-screen, he’d do the same for vi? that logic is incredible. not in a good way. you’re actually using a literal writing flaw, one that leaves a major gap in ekko’s character arc to push your agenda. because yeah, let’s take a gaping hole in the show’s writing and use it as proof that ekko would just roll over and be totally fine with vi working for piltover. genius. but acknowledging that would require you to admit that season 2’s writing has issues, and unfortunately, i don’t think you’re there yet because that would require actual critical thinking.

i'm sure you’re fine with how ekko is abruptly removed from the storyline, how the oppressed are suddenly fighting alongside their oppressors, how the show prioritizes an alternate-universe ekko instead of developing the one we’re actually supposed to be following in his own universe, and how ekko and vi don’t exchange a single conversation—not even for him to confront her.

anyway, i recommend reading more about ekko’s actual lore. he’s so much more than what arcane shows you. hell, just listen to his LoL voice lines and then tell me if this boy "understands" vi becoming an enforcer. i’ll wait.

#black man forgives white cop #saying that during black history month is crazy work lmao #arcane critical #ekko #they're always in the tag ik they'll see this lol

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artdcnaldson · 2 days ago

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visions of regency era pats sister au TEHEHE art’s family has status only, no wealth, and the zweigs are prosperous in name and wealth. patrick take art under his wing for the social season and you’re the spoiled brat obsessed with him against literally everyone’s wishes INCLUDING art’s but he figures deflowering a viscount’s daughter while using her to increase his social standing might make all her insolent coddled bullshit worth it. he owes it to patrick to take care of her, right?

-☘️

OHHHHHH right up my alley

it’s your first season out in society and Art’s first time spending the social season with society. And you’ve met Art before, but now you’re of age and he’s so handsome and dreamy and you’re ruining your chances of being wed to anyone of higher, more worthy status because all you want to do is chase Art around like a stupid little puppy.

And it’s annoying for him, of course it is. He’s trying to find a girl, preferably an only child, with a good enough dowry and wealthy enough family to support him as he rebuilds his own wealth. And you’re there at every turn— asking if he would like a spot on your dance card, peeking into the rooms when he’s having drinks with Patrick in the study of your expansive home (one of three that your family owns).

Art doesn’t have a home in town, so he’s staying in the eastern wing of the house— an appropriate distance from you, even though no one is particularly worried that Art would ever do anything. They’d trust him with your life, but it’s young girls like you who can’t be trusted with a young man alone, and your virtue is important for your marriage prospects.

But you’re hellbent on winning his affections. You sneak into the library to see him at night wearing nothing but your sheer little night dress, so the silhouette of your body is clearly evident in the dim candlelight. He tries to send you away, but you’re so oblivious to what you’re doing to him, oblivious to what these feelings are in your innocent little body.

You’re so spoiled, so sheltered, so entitled, and so, so innocent. Why shouldn’t he entertain your affections, why shouldn’t he use your obsession with him to lure in better marriage prospects. Because he could never marry a girl like you, let alone Patrick’s sister, but he could have his fun with you while he waits for his match.

#hehehehe #☘️ anon

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 days ago

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I may be a real bad boy...but baby I'm a real good man -Part 2 Oneshot

One of my lovely little darlings asked for a part 2 of this one. Hope y'all like it! Word count: 4834 Warnings: talk of past abuse, scarring

Part 1

“What’s that?” Bucky asked as he walked into Y/N’s room.

“Another letter from my parents,” she sighed, handing it over to him when he sat next to her on her bed.

He read through it quickly, then scowled. “Jesus, what is their problem?”

“I’ve been seen with the Avengers, Buck, which must mean I’m rich now, and that obviously means I owe them something since they are the reason I’m alive,” she scoffed, rubbing her eyes harshly with her fingers.

He crumpled the letter up and stuffed it in his pocket before leaning forward and hugging her tight. “You don’t owe them shit, babycakes, you know that right?” he said reassuringly.

Y/N smiled as she hugged him back. “I know,” she said quietly. “I just wish they would do what they’ve done for twenty years and just leave me alone.”

Bucky sighed heavily, then pulled back to look at her. “Ignore them. There’s nothing they can do to hurt you now.” She nodded and leaned in to kiss him. He playfully bit her lower lip and she whined at him, making him laugh. “Come on, let’s go down to the pool with everybody else,” he said. “The party has already started.”

Y/N’s anxiety spiked at that, but she kept a neutral face. “Okay, um, give me a few minutes and I’ll be right down,” she said nonchalantly.

Bucky’s eyes slightly narrowed at her, waiting a beat to see if he could read what was wrong, before he smiled wider and nodded. “Alright, don’t take too long!” he said, kissing her once more before getting up and leaving her room.

Y/N waited for his footsteps to go further down the hallway before she let out a shaky breath. She hadn’t worn a tank top or anything revealing enough to show her back in years, and even during sex with Bucky she was always on her back, making it so he wouldn’t be able to see or feel it if he tried to wrap his arms under her. How was she going to hide it from the entire team?

***

Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Yelena were in the pool, splashing each other until Steve and Bucky raced each other across the pool to see who was faster. With the super soldier serum in their blood it was definitely impressive to watch. Y/N was sitting on one of the beach chairs with Wanda next to her while Tony and Bruce were grilling burgers further away.

“Aren’t you hot?” Wanda asked her after a moment. “It’s 92 degrees and you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts.”

“I’m fine,” Y/N waved her off. “It’s a white t-shirt, and it’s not that hot.”

“Says the girl who is literally sweating through her hair,” Wanda said, reaching over and swiping off a bead of sweat from Y/N’s temple. “Come on, just take it off, you’ll feel better.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Y/N said, taking a long sip of her water.

“Babycakes, come on in!” Bucky called to her from the pool.

“I’m good, thank you!” she replied, trying to keep the air of nonchalance in her voice even as her frustration grew.

Why won’t she come in?

What’s going on?

Does she not feel good about herself?

Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her sunglasses hiding the tightness around her eyes. She was panicking, which made it so her mental blocks weren’t as strong as usual and she would hear people’s thoughts again. She heard Bucky pull himself out of the pool, water dripping heavily from him as he walked over to her chair and sat on it by her legs. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked quietly as he leaned over her. “Why won’t you come in?”

“I don’t feel like it,” she said quickly. “Just wanna get some sun.”

He frowned at her, then looked at Wanda. “Don’t ask me,” Wanda said, throwing her hands up.

Bucky leaned in closer to her ear so no one else could hear. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

“I don’t wanna take my shirt off, Buck,” Y/N said, silently begging him to understand.

“Why not? You look amazing,” he asked, looking shocked at her confession.

“Please just trust me,” she whispered, finally opening her eyes and looking at him. “Please?”

He looked surprised, his frown deepening, but he nodded. “Okay,” he said simply before giving her a quick kiss and getting up from the chair. She took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm herself as she turned on her electric fan and fanned her face.

A little while later as she was standing by the other end of the pool after eating a burger, she was sipping on a cocktail when Sam came up out of nowhere and lifted her off her feet, heading toward the pool.

“Sam! Stop!” she yelled, trying not to let her sonic scream overtake her voice. “Don’t!”

“Oh come on, Y/N, have some fun!” he said, laughing as she kicked and squirmed in his hold. The others started laughing at his antics, but Y/N was freaking out. No, please, not this, not now…

He suddenly maneuvered her into a position at the edge of the pool so that he grabbed her shirt and lifted it over herself before dropping her into the water. Y/N squealed, trying to twist her body as she hit the water. When she resurfaced she spat out the water that rushed into her mouth and nose before glaring at Sam. “Fuck you Sam!” she screamed, part of her ability slipping out and making the water ripple toward him. It splashed his feet and legs, making him laugh harder as she tried backstroke swimming to the opposite side of the pool away from him.

“Hey, glad you made it,” Bucky said, swimming toward her with a smile.

“I’m not staying,” Y/N said, keeping her back beneath the water as best as she could, facing him so he couldn’t see.

“What? Y/N–” he started.

“Y/N?” Wanda’s voice carried over from her chair. “What’s on your back?”

Y/N stiffened, shutting her eyes tight. “Nothing,” she said loudly as she continued trying to get away.

Bucky frowned. “What? What’s on your back?” he asked, trying to swim around her.

“No, Bucky, no,” she said, holding her hands out to him. Her constant protests were getting the attention of everybody by the pool, all of them watching on with frowns on their faces as well. “Just let me leave.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me now, babycakes,” he said, his eyes conveying his worry. He got close to her and reached for her shoulders. “Just let me see–”

“NO!” she yelped as she turned her sharply. The second he saw it he froze, his fingers tightening on her shoulders. She held her breath, hanging her face into her hands in shame.

“What is it—oh my god,” Wanda said when she walked around the edge of the pool to see. “Y/N…what…how did you get that?”

She could hear the rest of them all coming over to look, each of them reacting with some type of gasp or sound of surprise. “Y/N,” Bucky whispered. “What is this?”

“Scars,” she whispered, pulling away from his touch. “Please let me go.”

His hands fell away, and she swam to the side of the pool with the stairs and climbed out. She ran into the building without looking back, her tears pouring down her face as she raced to her room barefoot in a swim top and short shorts. She didn’t want it to happen like this. Of course she wouldn’t be able to hide it forever, especially from Bucky, but she couldn’t stand the fact that this was how everybody found out. When she reached her room she locked the door and instructed Friday to keep it locked before going to her bathroom and turning on the shower. She turned the water cold to try and cool down her feverish skin, the scars feeling like they were burning along her back. She washed off the sunscreen smell and let the water relax her as she cried heavily. Another lovely reminder of her parents’ anger and transgressions, permanently etched into her skin.

***

“It’s been four days and she won’t come out,” Bucky explained to her uncle Teddy as they walked down the hallway to her room. “She won’t talk to anyone, not even me.”

Teddy sighed heavily when they reached her door then turned to Bucky. “Thank you for calling me,” he said quickly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Bucky nodded, looking at her door sadly before walking back down the hallway. Teddy turned to the door and knocked. “Y/N? It’s Ted–”

The door ripped open and Y/N gaped at him. “Teddy?” she cried, then threw herself into his arms. “Teddy, what are you doing here?” she asked, tears streaming down her face.

“Your boyfriend called me,” he said with a sad chuckle. “What’s this about you holing yourself away in here?”

Y/N let him go and gave him a pitiful sniffle. “He saw,” she said quietly. He frowned but nodded. “They all saw,” she said, trying to bite back more tears.

“Come on, let’s talk,” Teddy said, pushing her back into her room and closing the door behind him. “You look a mess, honey.”

“I know,” she sighed, flopping back down on her bed with him sitting next to her. “I just couldn’t face it. The looks they all gave me,” she said, her voice starting to raise in pitch as her emotions overwhelmed her again.

“Well they were going to find out eventually anyway, right?” Teddy reasoned. “What did you expect to do exactly? Hide away a huge part of yourself, even from him?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It was working for a little while.”

“Sounds like you still have a bit of therapy to get through,” Teddy joked halfheartedly. “You’re surrounded by the most extraordinary but traumatized people in the world. They of all people would not judge you for what has happened in your past and the literal and metaphorical scars you hold from that. Why did you feel the need to hide them?”

Y/N knew he was right. Everyone on the team had been through some type of shit in their lives, some worse than her, especially Bucky. Why was she so afraid? “I guess I just wasn’t ready to face it myself,” she said finally. “They’re just a constant reminder that I wasn’t…wanted. That I was wrong. Bad. Abnormal.”

“Do you think I’m bad?” Teddy asked.

“What? No, of course not!” Y/N retorted, looking at him incredulously.

“Am I wrong for having my ability?” he continued. “Am I abnormal? Unwanted?”

“No! How could you say that?” she frowned.

“Because I feel the same about you,” Teddy said, reaching for and holding her hands. “You aren’t bad, you’re good. There’s nothing wrong with you for having a mutated gene that gives you abilities, just different. Does that make us abnormal? Sure. But so what? None of that means that you aren’t appreciated, wanted and loved.” He pulled her into a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “Bucky wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t love and want you, scars and all.”

That made her cry all over again. She had really sold him and the others short. They had shown no signs of fear, hesitation or hate towards her the entire time she had been here, so why would a few scars make any difference? “Thank you,” she said, squeezing him tight.

“Anytime,” Teddy said, his teasing tone coming back in his voice. “But before you talk to everybody, you need to shower. You stink.”

“Teddy!”

***

Y/N was sitting on a lone chair facing the rest of the Avengers who were all sitting on the couches and chairs across the common room, watching her intently. “Um, firstly, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I reacted the other day,” she started, wringing her hands in her lap. “And secondly, I wanted to explain.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Wanda said quickly. The others all nodded in agreement.

“I appreciate that, but I think I do,” Y/N said, giving them all a small smile. She took a deep breath then stood. “So, uh, this is what I was hiding,” she said, unzipping her jacket and turning around. She had a sports bra on so she wouldn’t be completely naked, but she shrugged the jacket off for them all to see. There was a chorus of gasps and sounds of surprise. Y/N let them look for a long moment before putting her jacket on and zipping it before she turned to sit back down and look at them. Wanda was crying, Yelena’s frown was the deepest she’d ever seen, and Peter, Sam, Tony, Bruce and Steve were all upset. But the worst was Bucky’s look of despair, a look that she’d only ever seen when he was coming out of his worst nightmares.

“My parents didn’t know how to handle my abilities when they manifested themselves,” she explained. “I was seven when I first heard my mom’s thoughts. I caught her in a lie, and she freaked out when she realized it was because I could hear her. Then as she was spanking me I screamed, and it shattered the kitchen window.” She swallowed, trying to not let it all make her cry again. “I tried not to let the constant voices get to me, but I didn’t know how to tune them out like I do now. My dad couldn’t handle the fact that I had inherited the mutant gene, that I was a ‘freak like his brother,’” she quoted with a scoff. “After a pretty bad day he lost it on me, and hit me with his belt until I stopped screaming.” She sniffed, quickly wiping her eyes before smiling. “They shipped me off to Uncle Teddy so he could deal with me, and uh…long story short, I’m scarred, physically and mentally, and it sucks but it is what it is. And I’m sorry I wasn’t trusting enough in all of you to be understanding about it–”

Wanda stood and walked over to her, kneeling down and hugging her tight. “It wasn’t any of our business until you felt it was, dearest. I’m sorry we all pushed you, we just didn’t know. But we should have accepted your refusal from the start. I’m sorry.”

Y/N hugged her back. “Thank you.”

They each approached her with hugs and apologies, Sam especially feeling horrible for being the one to force her to show her scars, but Y/N felt lighter than she had in years at the way they all accepted it and didn’t judge or treat her any differently than normal. Last to approach her was Bucky, who silently took her hand and pulled her out of the common room and towards her room. Y/N let him lead her, knowing that they would need to have their own conversation about everything. He closed her door behind her when she walked in then locked the door, and turned to face her. Tears were brimming in his eyes and she panicked at the sight.

“Bucky,” she said, reaching up and cupping his face. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’m sorry I didn’t see, that I wasn’t someone you felt safe enough with to talk to about it–”

“No, oh my god, no, Buck,” Y/N shook her head fervently. “I do feel safe with you. I do trust you. I just wasn’t ready yet, do you hear me?” Bucky bit his lower lip to bite back more crying, sniffling as she wiped his tears away. “I love you,” she confessed.

His eyes widened at that. They hadn’t said it to each other yet, but Y/N knew what she felt and didn’t want to keep anything else from him. He released his lip and his lips trembled as he smiled at her. “I love you, too, babycakes,” he breathed. He wound his arms around her waist and pulled her into him, then leaned down and kissed her gently. Y/N let herself melt into the kiss, but after a minute or two Bucky’s hands shifted down her back to the front of her jacket. His fingers gripped the zipper and he pulled away to look at her. “May I see?” he asked, a look of sadness and determination in his eyes.

Y/N nodded and took a deep breath. Bucky getting up close and personal with her scars had worried her before, but now she knew he was just curious and wanting to make it better somehow for her. He nodded then pulled the zipper down slowly, helping her pull it off and letting it fall to the floor before his fingers traced up her stomach to her sports bra. She nodded permission, and he helped her take it off, leaving her top naked. He kissed her again, pushing her back towards her bed until the back of her legs hit the mattress. His fingers pulled her bottoms down and off, then pushed her to lay down on the bed. “Turn over for me,” he said.

She took a deep breath to steady her heartbeat, then turned herself over to lay on her stomach. There was a beat of silence, then Bucky’s flesh fingers touched the base of her spine where the scars began. Most of them were small gashes from the belt buckle and prong, but there were two long ones that stretched along her spine from the length of the leather belt hitting her skin just right so that it made the skin split. His fingers traced along those two, the worst ones that had stretched her skin and pinkened it. She heard his clothes jostling for a moment and then the bed dipped as he climbed up, kneeling between her legs. Both of his hands were now on her back, almost massaging along her spine, until he leaned down and he kissed the first small scar near her ass.

Bucky’s kisses traveled over her back, making sure he touched and kissed every scar reverently before moving on to the next one. It was overwhelming for Y/N, a fresh wave of tears silently falling down her face. He was being so gentle, so sweet, and she couldn’t help the emotional reaction she was having. She took another shaky breath as he finally reached the top of her longest scar in between her shoulder blades.

“My pretty babycakes,” he whispered against her skin. “I’m so sorry you weren’t loved the way you deserve. Thank you for trusting me.” His hands spread her legs further apart, his metal fingers moved in between her legs, his fingers slipping through her slit slowly. “Thank you for loving me,” he continued. “Can I make love to you like this, Y/N?”

She turned her head to look back at him. His eyes were focused on her pussy, then glancing up at her back until he met her gaze. “You want to see them while we…?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, leaning over so he could kiss her again. “You accepted me, scars and all. Let me return the favor.” Her breath hitched, her chin wobbling as she bit back a sob. She nodded with a small smile and he smiled back at her. “Thank you.”

His first two metal fingers dipped inside her, making her moan and her head flop back onto the bed. She didn’t realize she had gotten so wet just from his kisses across her back, but she had, and as he worked her up she couldn’t stop the tears as she thought about how wonderful this man of hers was. Bucky pumped his fingers in and out of her slowly, taking his sweet time in pulling any and all sounds he could from her until her legs started shaking. “That’s it, babycakes.”

She stiffened after a moment, then her body fell off that last precipice and she came, a small gush coating his fingers as she moaned into the blankets, her fingers gripping them tightly. Bucky’s fingers fucked her through it until she stopped shaking, then he pulled them out and she could hear him lick his fingers clean. “So good,” he mumbled. “Get on your knees for me.” Y/N struggled to shift up on her knees, leaning on her elbows as the side of her face rested against the bed. “Aw, still sensitive?” he asked teasingly, then she felt the tip of his cock rub through her pussy lips.

She jiggled her ass at him, and he chuckled, his flesh hand giving her right ass cheek a quick smack. “Good girl,” he said, then started pushing in. Y/N moaned into the bed, her legs slightly spreading even more to be able to take him in. She would never get used to this, just how perfect he felt inside her, but now in this position he felt even deeper somehow, making her eyes roll back.

“Buckyyyy…” she groaned when he was balls deep.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned with her. “God, as much as I love the way we’ve always done it, this is…fuck,” he huffed, his hips trembling with how far inside he felt. “This is different.” She nodded, her arms moving above her head to grip at the blankets more firmly. “And seeing your pretty ass raised like this for me,” he said, smacking her ass cheeks again, making her squeak. “I didn’t know what I was missing. And these,” his fingers traced up her scars again, his hips starting a steady pace in and out of her, “proving just how strong and good and beautiful my baby is. I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

Y/N was overcome with emotion, her tears falling harder and her breaths heavy with sobs. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, keeping up the pace as he leaned over and across her back, positioning himself so he was basically mounting her. “Let it all out while I love you. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

It felt like he was everywhere, his face tucked into the back of her neck, his huffed breaths heating her skin and his deep, low voice in her ear and vibrating from his chest onto her back, his metal arm holding around her waist while his flesh arm kept him up so he couldn’t crush her. Feeling his front against her scarred back was somehow relieving, healing, like the skin to skin contact stitched together those last few pieces of her heart from when she was a child. Her orgasm was fast approaching again, her legs shaking under him as he fucked her slowly, deliberately, letting her feel every little thing. Her mental block slipped and she could hear him…

My strong girl.

My pretty babycakes.

“Atta girl, cum on me,” he said, kissing and licking her shoulder and the top of the longest scar. “I can feel you. Let go. Let it all go, babycakes.”

Y/N’s breathing picked up even faster, her fingers scratching at the bed until the pressure built up impossibly high, then she was cumming again. She squealed loudly as her pussy constricted around him, another gush spilling from her as she shook beneath him. Bucky whimpered at how tight she was around his cock, fucking deep into her a few more times until he stiffened and came, his hips trembling harder as he let it all out inside of her.

They sat like that for another minute or two as their combined highs calmed down. Bucky nuzzled his face into her hair before pulling himself up. He groaned as he slowly pulled himself out of her then turned her over so he could see her. Y/N felt like jelly as she slumped to her back, her eyes feeling heavy as she looked up at Bucky. He smirked at the look on her face, leaning down to kiss her deeply. She lazily kissed him back, and when his lips moved from her mouth and down her neck she moved herself any way he wanted her to as he kissed across her skin. “Mmh, sweetness,” she moaned lightly.

Bucky kissed back up to her face, kissing her cheek chastely before wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks. “I hope those are good tears,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” Y/N quickly nodded. “Yes. Thank you Bucky. That was incredibly…healing,” she said, sniffling before any more emotions could overwhelm her again.

He gave her a wide smile. “Please talk to me if you’re struggling, Y/N. Please don’t hide things from me. Nothing you say or do could make me judge or hate you. I love you too much,” he joked, nipping at her bottom lip.

She huffed a laugh at him, running her fingers through his hair affectionately. “I will, I promise,” she agreed. “I love you, sweetness.”

***

Bucky sat at the small kitchen table in the old house, waiting as the sounds of bustling movement came from the garage.

“Harry, stop being such an idiot!”

“Fuck off, Julia!”

Their shrill voices carried through the hallway, making Bucky grimace as he pointed the gun in his right hand, keeping it visible on top of the table for them to see as they walked in.

“How do you fuck up grabbing the bread I asked you to get? It’s the same bread we’ve bought for thirty years!” Julia yelled as she walked through the door, her arms heavy laden with grocery bags. She didn’t see him at first, plopping the bags on the floor before straightening herself up with a sigh, and as she turned to walk back out of the kitchen she did a double take of him. Her eyes widened, and just as she opened her mouth to scream Bucky held up the gun, his eyebrows raising in a dare. She cut herself off, her mouth shutting fast as she froze on the spot.

Harry walked through the door a moment later with a few bags in his hands. “Jesus, woman, will you just leave me alo–” he froze when he saw Bucky, glancing at Julia before dropping his bags. “What the fuck?!” he yelled. “Who are you?”

“Shut up and sit down,” Bucky snarled, cocking the gun toward the last empty seat at the table. Harry looked defiant but fearful, his jaw ticking as he slowly walked forward and sat down. Bucky could see Julia inching towards the sink. “I already grabbed that gun earlier,” he said to her. “And you could try the knife block, but it won’t end well for either of you.” Julia froze again, her eyes staying comically wide. Bucky focused back on Harry. “I’m not here to kill you,” he said.

Harry’s frown deepened. “Then what do you want? We don’t have any money.”

“Right, you’re just trying to get it from your daughter,” Bucky said, revealing his left arm as he let it fall on the table with a heavy thud that made a crack in the tabletop. Harry’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open and Julia whimpered behind him as they recognized him. “Let me just make something abundantly clear,” he continued. “You will not contact her again. No calls, no emails, no more pathetic letters,” he said, unfurling his closed metal fist and letting the crumpled letter he’d taken fall on the table. “She owes you nothing. Don’t you ever bother her or interrupt her happiness again. Do as you have done for the past 20 years, and leave her alone.”

“You have no right–” Harry started.

*BANG*

Julia screamed, cowering in the corner of the kitchen while Harry sat shaking, breathing heavily as blood trickled down from where the top of his left ear had been grazed. Bucky glared at him, pointing the gun more toward his face. “Do I need to repeat myself?” he asked dangerously. Harry shook his head fast. “Answer me,” Bucky grumbled.

“N-n-no,” Harry stammered.

“No, what?” Bucky asked, tilting his head at him.

“No s-sir,” Harry said, his chin wobbling as his eyes brimmed with tears.

Bucky glanced at Julia, who quickly nodded and held her hands up. “No sir,” she cried.

He glared at them both for another moment before nodding. He stood from the table, putting his gun away before walking toward the door they had come through. He stopped at the doorway and turned to look at Julia. “If I ever even hear of either of you again, I’ll end you. Slowly,” he warned, his metal arm whirring as he clenched his fist. Julia sniffled sadly, nodding again. Bucky huffed a laugh at how pathetic they were, then walked out of the house. If there was anything he could do to protect his babycakes, he would do it.

#marvel #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #ask #request #anon ask #oneshot #part 2

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iamquiantrelle · 16 hours ago

Text

THURAM'S NO. 1 ANGEL (chapter 1) ────iamquaintrelle

# pairing: marcus thuram x black oc (☔️✨💕)

# wc: 4.5k

# tags: @irishmanwhore @sucredreamer @coffeevacation @hopefulromantic1 @jessnotwiththemess

# summary: shanice carter-ricci didn't expect to become part-owner of inter milan at forty, but here she is - fresh off a divorce from her italian ex and ready to shake up serie a. she's got plans to bring some much-needed diversity and fresh energy to those stuffy executive boxes. what she doesn't plan on? getting tangled up with marcus thuram, the team's star striker who's fourteen years younger and infamous for his rotation of gorgeous girlfriends known as "thuram's angels." soon shanice is finding out that age ain't nothing but a number… and maybe it's time for this angel investor to shake up thuram's roster. masterlist.

# a/n: this will be a mini fic series with thirteen parts unless there's no engagement.

Shanice pulled her Hermes scarf tighter as she walked through the VIP entrance of San Siro. Even after six months, it still felt weird being part owner of Inter Milan. Like, how did her ex-husband's obsession become her fresh start at forty? The divorce from Alessandro had at least given her this, along with keeping her sanity intact.

The players' tunnel was empty and quiet since practice ended hours ago. As the new VP of Community Relations, she told herself she needed to know every inch of her investment. But honestly? She just loved how the place felt when no one was around.

That's when she heard it - deep laughter and rapid French echoing off the walls. Before she could place where it was coming from, she literally walked right into what felt like a wall of muscle in Inter training gear.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" Marcus Thuram's face broke into that infamous grin of his as his hands steadied her shoulders. Behind him, three gorgeous women watched the scene unfold, all gorgeous in that Instagram-ready way. So these were the famous "Angels" everyone gossiped about.

"Mrs. Ricci," he said, recognition lighting his eyes. "I didn't expect to meet our new owner like this." His English was good, touched with just enough French to be straight up dangerous.

"Just Shanice now," she corrected him. "The divorce was finalized in June." Why the hell did she share that? There was just something about his open, playful expression that made you want to spill your whole life story.

"Ah, fresh starts," he nodded sagely, though his eyes danced with mischief. "I'm somewhat of an expert in those. New club, new city…" He gestured at the women behind him. "New friends."

One of the Angels - this tall drink of water with honey-blonde weave - cleared her throat like she was tired of waiting.

"Speaking of friends," Marcus said with an apologetic grin, "we have dinner reservations. But maybe we could discuss community outreach programs sometime? I have some ideas."

Shanice found herself nodding before she could stop herself. This man's charm should be illegal for real. "My office is always open to players."

"Good!" He was already backing away, the Angels falling into formation around him like they'd rehearsed it. "Though fair warning - I might try to convince you to sponsor a sneaker design competition for local kids."

She watched him disappear down the corridor, her daughters' voices already playing in her head. Thirteen-year-old Dream would absolutely lose it if she knew mom had just met her favorite player. And nine-year-old Heaven would've been all over his shoes, trying to figure out if they were some limited drop.

Pulling out her phone, Shanice added "look into sneaker comps?" to her notes. She tried to ignore how her skin was still buzzing where his hands had been.

She had way too much on her plate to be thinking about a fine as hell 27-year-old footballer with a rotating cast of girlfriends. Even if his smile could probably power all of Milan.

Shaking her head, Shanice continued down the tunnel, her heels clicking against the concrete. Football had always been Alessandro's thing, not hers. Every weekend for years, he'd take Dream and Heaven to the matches while she built her empire hosting events and securing those luxury brand deals. Not that she minded - somebody had to be the practical one, the hustler making things happen while he played football owner with his rich friends.

But now? Now she owned a piece of one of the biggest clubs in Europe. The irony wasn't lost on her. She might not know every player's stats like Dream did, or care about formation tactics like Alessandro had, but she knew business. She knew how to make things grow. And honestly? Serie A could use some diversity in the owner's boxes - not just on the pitch.

"Time to make some noise," she muttered to herself, running her hand along the tunnel wall. Dream had screamed for ten minutes straight when Shanice told her about the divorce settlement. Not because of the divorce - they'd all seen that coming - but because her mom now owned part of her favorite team. Heaven had just rolled her eyes in that way only a nine-year-old could and asked if this meant she could players’ shoe collections.

Back in her modeling days, Shanice never imagined she'd end up here. But that hustle had never left her blood, even after she'd transitioned from walking runways to running events. Her network was crazy - fashion houses, celebrities, influencers, business moguls - all on speed dial because they knew she could make magic happen. Alessandro might've laughed at her "little parties" at first, but he shut up real quick when her connections started bringing serious money and clout to his business ventures.

She pulled out her phone again, scrolling through her contacts. Maybe it was time to bring that same energy to Inter. These stuffy old Italian football clubs needed to wake up and realize the game was changing. Social media, fashion collabs, global branding - that's where the real money was. And with her connections? She could open doors these men in their expensive suits hadn't even thought to look for.

The image of Marcus Thuram's smile flashed through her mind again. She had to admit - at least the view at work was going to be nice. Real nice. Even if he was young enough to make her feel like a whole cougar for even thinking about it.

Her phone lit up with a message from Dream: "MOMMM did you see any players today? 👀"

Shanice grinned, deciding to torture her daughter a little. "Maybe. Just walked around the tunnel a bit."

"OMG WHO???"

"Nobody special. Just some tall guy. French, I think? Had a few girlfriends with him..."

"MARCUS?!?! YOU MET MARCUS THURAM AND YOU'RE JUST NOW TELLING ME?! I'm literally dying. Did he do the smile? You know the one. Heaven says you better have checked his shoes!"

Shanice laughed out loud in the empty tunnel. Trust her kids to have their priorities straight - Dream thirsting over that smile and Heaven focused on the sneaker game. Like mother, like daughters - she hadn't missed those Jordan 1s he was wearing either.

"You're supposed to be doing homework," she texted back. "And yes, he smiled. No, I didn't catalog his shoe collection. I was kind of busy being professional."

The string of crying emojis that followed made her shake her head. She'd created a monster when she agreed to let Alessandro take Dream to that Inter Milan match three years ago. Now her daughter's room looked like a shrine to them - posters, jerseys, the works. Heaven wasn't much better, except her wall was covered in pictures of players' rare sneaker collections that she'd printed out.

Her phone buzzed again. This time it was her assistant reminding her about tomorrow's marketing meeting. Right. Back to reality. She had actual work to do, strategies to plan, a whole department to run. She couldn't be out here acting like her teenage daughter, getting flustered over a pretty smile and some designer kicks.

Even if that smile did make her forget she was supposed to be a whole grown woman with responsibilities.

"At least tell me if the Angels were as pretty in person as they look on Instagram!" Dream's next text popped up.

Shanice rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Dream. Do your homework."

But as she headed toward her office, she couldn't help but wonder exactly how one got an invitation to join Thuram's Angels. Not that she was interested. At all.

She was way too old for that drama.

Probably.

*********************************************

Shanice's office was her sanctuary in the chaos of training days. Up here in the executive level, she could see the players running drills on the practice field below. Not that watching was doing her any good right now - she'd been staring at the same sponsorship proposal for twenty minutes straight.

Her phone buzzed. Dream again, probably spamming her with more TikToks of Marcus's training highlights. Her teenager had been insufferable since finding out mom was technically her idol's boss. Heaven was slightly more chill about it, but only because she was more interested in his sneaker collection than his football skills.

But it wasn't Dream. It was an Inter Milan internal number.

Marcus? Why is he calling her?

"Shouldn't you be training right now?" Shanice answered, trying to keep her voice professional despite the smile tugging at her lips.

"Water break," Marcus's voice was warm through the speaker. "And I hear you have an excellent coffee machine in your office. Much better than the one in players' lounge."

"Are you really trying to schmooze the boss for better coffee when you should be hydrating?"

"I would never," he gasped in mock offense. "I'm trying to schmooze the boss for both better coffee AND funding for my sneaker competition. I'm an excellent multitasker."

She shouldn't find that as funny as she did. "Fine. After training tomorrow? And yes, the coffee is excellent."

"Perfect. I'll bring my presentation. You bring your coffee machine's A-game."

"Get back to practice," she said, but she was grinning like a fool.

"Yes, boss," he chuckled before hanging up.

Shanice leaned back in her chair, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach. This was business. Just business. Even if his voice did things to her that should be classified as a cardiac event.

Her phone buzzed again - Dream for real this time. "Mom mom mom did you see Marcus's new training pics? His fit is actually insane!"

Shanice glanced down at the practice field, where she could just make out number 9 jogging back to rejoin his teammates.

Just. Business.

The rest of her day was a blur of meetings and calls - sponsorship negotiations, community program reviews, endless emails about jersey designs. She was good at this part. Numbers, strategies, making shit happen - that's what got her here, not knowing the difference between a free kick and a corner kick.

On her way out, she nearly ran into Simone Inzaghi, Inter's manager. He'd been trying to get her to actually watch a match from the owner's box instead of just handling the business side.

"Shanice! This Saturday, yes? You'll come?" His English was getting better, but his hopeful expression did most of the talking.

She adjusted her Birkin on her shoulder. "Still not a football fan, coach."

"I will change this," he declared, shaking his head with a laugh. "I will beg if needed."

"We'll see," she smiled, already knowing she wouldn't. She had enough football talk from her daughters - she didn't need to add live matches to the mix.

The drive home to her Lake Como villa was usually her decompression time. Twenty minutes of pure luxury car silence, winding along the lakeside, watching the sun set behind the mountains. But today, that peace was shattered by the sight of a familiar Maserati in her driveway.

"What the fuck, Alex?" she muttered, pulling her Porsche in beside it. They had a custody arrangement for a reason. Wednesday wasn't his day.

Sure enough, when she walked in, Alessandro was in her kitchen like he still owned the place, stirring something that smelled suspiciously good while Heaven played sous chef. Dream was sprawled on the kitchen island bench, scrolling through her phone like this was just another regular Wednesday night.

"Ooh! Mama's home!" Heaven squealed, abandoning her post to launch herself at Shanice.

She caught her baby girl, hugging and kissing her while pinning her ex with a look that could freeze the whole lake. "Alex, a moment please."

Alessandro had the nerve to look completely unbothered as he handed Heaven the wooden spoon. "Keep stirring the sauce, tesoro."

Shanice led him to her home office, shutting the door with maybe a little more force than necessary. The room was her space - all clean lines and modern art, not a single piece of football memorabilia in sight. Unlike the rest of the house, which had slowly been taken over by Dream's Inter Milan shrine.

"What are you doing here, Alex? It's not your day."

He leaned against her desk like he used to do when this was their house, not just hers. Still fine as hell in that tailored suit, still wearing that Rolex she'd given him for their tenth anniversary. Still irritating as fuck.

"The girls called. Said they missed my cooking." His accent got thicker when he was trying to charm his way out of trouble. "You know how Heaven loves my pasta alla vodka."

"They have phones. You have a phone. A heads up would've been nice."

"Ah, but then you might have said no." He flashed that smile that used to make her weak in the knees. Now it just made her want to throw something at him. "Besides, I heard through the grapevine that you met our new striker today. Thought you might want to... compare notes."

Shanice's eyes narrowed. "You're here because of Marcus Thuram?"

"I'm here because of pasta," he corrected, but his eyes were laughing at her. "But since you brought him up..."

"Don't start, Alex." She moved behind her desk, putting some space between them. "I had one conversation with him about community programs. That's it."

"Mhmm. And tomorrow you have coffee." He examined his nails like this was casual conversation. "In your office. Alone."

"How do you even-" She stopped herself. Of course he knew. Half the board was probably still loyal to him. "It's a business meeting."

"With the guy Dream has plastered all over her walls?" His smile turned knowing. "The one with the harem of models?"

"The Angels," she corrected automatically, then wanted to kick herself.

"Ah, so you know about that." He pushed off the desk, moving closer. "Listen, tesoro-"

"Don't 'tesoro' me. We're not married anymore."

"Fine. Listen, Shanice." He held up his hands in surrender, but his eyes were still dancing with amusement. "I just want you to be careful. Marcus is... how do you Americans say it? A player. On and off the field."

She felt her temper rising. "Are you seriously in my house, uninvited, trying to warn me about a man like I'm some teenage girl? I'm forty, Alex. I own half your shares in Inter. I think I can handle a meeting with a footballer."

"Of course you can," he said smoothly. "You can handle everything. Always could. Just..." He paused at the door. "Maybe wear something less..." He gestured vaguely at her outfit.

"Get the fuck out of my office."

"Mama!" Heaven's voice saved Alex from whatever Shanice was about to throw at him. "The sauce is bubbling!"

"We're not done," Shanice warned him as she brushed past.

His low chuckle followed her down the hall. "We never are, bella. We never are."

In the kitchen, Dream had finally looked up from her phone. "Did you really talk to Marcus again today?" Of course, that's what got her attention.

"She did," Alex answered before Shanice could, stirring the sauce Heaven had abandoned. "And she's having coffee with him tomorrow."

The shriek Dream let out could probably be heard all the way in Milan. "OH MY GOD MOM! You have to tell me everything! What was he wearing? Did you see his sneakers? Was he nice? Were the Angels there? Is he even hotter in person? Can you get me his autograph? Or better yet, can you–"

"Dream." Shanice cut off the stream of questions. "Homework. Now."

"But Mom-"

"Now."

Heaven giggled at her sister's dramatic sigh. "I just want to know if his shoes were limited edition."

"Both of you, homework. Alex-" She turned to her ex, who was now plating pasta like he belonged there. "Next time, call first."

"Of course," he said with that infuriating smile. "I wouldn't want to interrupt any... business meetings."

Shanice decided right then that she was absolutely wearing her tightest dress tomorrow. And those Louboutins that made her legs look like they went on for days.

Purely for business reasons, of course.

Shanice stood in front of her closet the next morning, eyeing her options like she was planning a battle strategy. And maybe she was. That Roland Mouret dress had been collecting dust since Milan Fashion Week - the black one that hugged every curve like it was painted on, with that strategic slit that made her legs look endless. Perfect for making a point to her ex-husband about exactly what she could and couldn't handle.

"That's the one," she muttered, pulling it out. The fabric alone probably cost more than most people's monthly rent, but that's what you got for twenty years of fashion industry connections. She paired it with those red-bottom stilettos that had their own insurance policy - six inches of "fuck you" to anyone who thought forty meant invisible.

Her reflection in the full-length mirror had her feeling satisfied. The dress did everything it was supposed to do - snatched her waist, highlighted those gym sessions she'd been religious about since the divorce, and made her ass look like it was advertising something exclusive. Her hair were swept up in a French roll showing off the diamond earrings Alex had gotten her for their fifteenth anniversary. Petty? Maybe. But she wore divorce well.

"Damn, Mom!" Dream's voice made her turn. Her daughter was standing in the doorway, already in her school uniform. "Is this what you're wearing to meet Marcus?"

"This is what I'm wearing to work," Shanice corrected, but she couldn't help smiling at Dream's knowing look. "Don't you have a bus to catch?"

"Can't you just admit you're trying to get his attention? I mean, I've seen the Angels, but they don't have anything on you in that dress."

"Everything’s packed?"

Dream rolled her eyes. "Yes, but-"

"Bus. Now."

But as she walked into Inter's offices two hours later, the click of her Louboutins echoing off marble floors, Shanice had to admit her daughter might have had a point. This wasn't just a work outfit. This was a statement.

She just wasn't sure who she was making it to.

Maria's eyes went wide when she walked in. "Ms. Carter, the coffee machine is ready and-" she paused, taking in the outfit "-Mr. Thuram called to confirm he'll be here after morning training."

"Perfect." Shanice tried to ignore the little flutter in her stomach at his name. "Any other messages?"

"Mr. Ricci called." Maria's expression was carefully neutral. "Twice."

Of course he did. "Any actual emergencies?"

"He said something about wanting to make sure you got his advice about appropriate business attire."

Shanice's laugh was sharp. "I bet he did." She strode into her office, the dress moving exactly like it was designed to. "Hold my calls unless it's about the sponsorship deal. Or Mr. Thuram," she added, because Maria would assume anyway.

Her office was ready - coffee machine prepped with those specialty beans, a view of the practice field below (not that she was looking), and enough actual work on her desk to remind herself why she was really here.

But when she caught her reflection in the window, all dangerous curves and boss energy, she had to smile. Alex always did hate it when she dressed like this for business meetings. Said it was distracting.

That was kind of the point.

The sound of cleats on marble made her pause in reviewing contracts. He was early. She could hear Maria's professional greeting, followed by that deep laugh that somehow managed to sound like trouble even through walls.

Shanice stood, smoothing down her dress.

Game time.

Marcus didn't even try to hide how his eyes traveled up from those Louboutins when Maria showed him in. She caught his muttered "good damn" before he switched to that media-ready smile.

"What was that?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Nothing," he recovered smoothly, but his eyes were still taking in the dress like he was memorizing it. "Thanks for making time for me."

"Coffee?" She gestured to the machine, using the moment of turning away to hide her smile. That reaction had been worth every euro of this dress.

"Please." He settled into one of her visitor chairs like he owned it, all long legs and easy confidence.

"Should we be expecting any other visitors today?"

The question was casual, but he caught the underlying meaning. She'd seen the Angels in their usual spot during morning training.

"Just us," he replied, grabbing the cup from her.

"Your... friends are otherwise occupied?"

His chuckle was low and knowing. "They're... back at home." The way he said it made it clear 'home' was a loose concept.

Shanice pushed away thoughts about how weird it must be to just be cool with being one of many in a rotation. Not her business. Not her place to judge anybody's sex life, especially not when she had actual business to discuss.

"So," she sat behind her desk, crossing those Louboutin-clad legs deliberately. "Tell me about this sneaker competition for local kids."

Marcus set down his coffee and pulled out an iPad. But instead of launching into some formal presentation, he leaned forward with that infectious enthusiasm she was starting to realize wasn't just for show.

"Look, these kids in the local neighborhoods, they've got crazy talent. Not just for football - for design, for art. But nobody's giving them a platform." His French accent got thicker when he was excited, she noticed. "I want to do something that combines both. Get them designing custom football boots, have them pitch their ideas like it's Shark Tank or something."

"And the winners?"

"We produce their design. Limited edition. Split the profits with them and their schools." He grinned. "Plus they get to see a professional wear their creation in a match."

She had to admit, it was good. Combine Inter's community outreach with actual entrepreneurship opportunities, get some good PR, maybe even discover the next big thing in design...

"My daughter Heaven would lose her mind over this," she said without thinking.

His eyes lit up. "The sneakerhead? Dream mentioned her yesterday."

Shanice blinked. "When did you talk to Dream?"

"Instagram. She slid in my DMs like 'my mom's gonna be your boss now so we're basically family.'" He laughed at Shanice's mortified expression. "Don't worry, I kept it professional. Told her to focus on school and that her mom seems cool."

"Seems?"

"Well," he stood, and somehow the office felt smaller with him up. "That was before I saw you in this dress. Now I'm thinking 'cool' might be an understatement."

He was at the door before she could process that. "Think about the proposal? The kids would really appreciate it."

Shanice managed a nod, proud that her voice stayed steady. "I'll review the numbers."

"Looking forward to your decision." That smile again, the one that probably got him everything he wanted. "Boss."

The door clicked shut behind him. Shanice let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

So much for keeping it professional.

Saturday came too fast. Shanice had successfully avoided matches for months, but Dream and Heaven had formed an unholy alliance. Their combined powers of teenage begging and nine-year-old puppy eyes were apparently her kryptonite.

"You're an owner, Mom," Dream had argued. "You have to at least pretend to care about the actual games."

So here she was, in the owner's box, wearing weekend casual. Heaven was pressed against the glass, documenting every player's footwear choices in her little notebook. Dream was... well.

"OH MY GOD HE WAVED AT ME!"

Marcus had paused his warm-up routine to wave at Dream, who was now literally squealing and clutching Shanice's arm. Her daughter - usually so cool, so above it all - reduced to a giggling teenager. Which, fair enough, she was.

Shanice's eyes scanned the stands automatically. No Angels in sight. Interesting, since the gossip blogs always said they never missed a match, always in their usual section, always dressed like they were at fashion week instead of a football game-

Nope. She wasn't going to go there. That was the least of her worries. Besides, she wasn't about to become some cougar chasing after a 27-year-old footballer. What could he possibly do for her? He probably couldn't even satisfy a woman properly, especially not a woman like her who knew what she wanted and-

Marcus dropped into a stretch on the field below, and Shanice's brain short-circuited. Those thighs. That ass. The way his kit stretched across-

Well. Maybe he could do a little somethin' somethin'.

"Mom!" Heaven's voice snapped her out of it. "Are those the new Nike Zoom Mercurial Superfly 9 Elites he's wearing?"

"I have no idea what any of those words mean, baby."

But she knew exactly what those thighs meant, and it was trouble. Pure trouble.

The match kicked off, and Shanice tried to look interested in whatever was happening on the field. Heaven was still cataloging shoes, but now she was comparing them to some spreadsheet on her tablet. Dream was providing commentary that might as well have been in Chinese for all Shanice understood.

"Did you see that run? The way he just- Mom, are you even watching?"

She was watching something alright. Just maybe not the same thing Dream was excited about. Marcus moved like water on the field, all power and grace. The way his muscles flexed when he sprinted, the focus in his expression when he had the ball...

"Signora Ricci." A smooth voice interrupted her definitely-not-thirsting. One of the other board members - some old money type whose name she should probably remember. "So nice to finally see you at a match."

"Couldn't disappoint my girls," she smiled diplomatically. These men still weren't used to her being here, being part owner. Still called her Ricci even though she'd gone back to her maiden name.

"You've met our new striker, yes? Quite the acquisition."

Oh, she'd met him alright. Met those chocolate eyes and that devastating smile and that ass that should be illegal in those shorts-

"We had a meeting about his community outreach proposals," she said smoothly. "Very impressive."

"His proposals or his-" Dream's comment was cut off by Shanice's warning look.

The crowd suddenly roared. Shanice turned just in time to see Marcus breaking free, the ball at his feet. The defender didn't stand a chance. One move, two, and then-

GOAL.

The stadium erupted. Dream was screaming. Heaven had abandoned her shoe documentation to jump up and down. And Marcus... Marcus was running toward their end of the field, sliding on his knees in celebration.

He looked up at the owner's box. Straight at her.

And winked.

"Did you see that?" Dream squealed. "He winked at us!"

Sure, baby. At "us."

Shanice took a long sip of her champagne. She was going to need something stronger than this to survive the rest of this match.

Shanice was on her second glass of champagne when Marcus scored again. This time his celebration was all swagger - that signature dance that had Dream and her friends making TikToks for weeks. The stadium was going crazy, and even Heaven had abandoned her sneaker documentation to cheer.

"He's so good," Dream sighed dreamily. "Like, is there anything he can't do?"

Keep his shirt on, apparently. The heat had several players stripping down to their undershirts, and Marcus's clung to him like it was painted on. Those training sessions were clearly paying off because what the actual f-

"Mamma mia, he's really showing off today."

Shanice didn't need to turn around to know that voice. "Don't you have your own box, Alex?"

"Can't a father watch with his daughters?" Alessandro dropped into the seat next to her, looking irritatingly handsome in his weekend casual Brunello Cucinelli. "Though I see you're watching... something else."

"The match," she said firmly. "I'm watching the match."

"Of course." His knowing smile made her want to dump her champagne on his designer sweater. "That's why you haven't blinked since Thuram took his shirt off."

Before she could respond, the final whistle blew. Inter 3, Juventus 1.

"Can we go down?" Dream was already gathering her things. "Please? Dad always takes us to meet the players after home games."

"I don't think-" Shanice started.

"Excellent idea," Alex cut in smoothly. "The owner should congratulate the team on their victory. Especially the man of the match."

Heaven's eyes lit up. "We can see the boots up close!"

Shanice was outnumbered. Again. "Fine. But ten minutes max."

The tunnel to the locker room was crowded with families and staff, the air thick with victory excitement and expensive perfume. Dream was practically vibrating with anticipation. Heaven had her notebook ready.

And then Marcus emerged, still glowing from the win, that undershirt still clinging to every muscle like it was doing the Lord's work. His eyes found their group immediately.

"The Carter-Ricci family!" His smile could power half of Milan. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"You were amazing!" Dream gushed. "Those goals were insane!"

"Can I see your boots?" Heaven was already crouching down with her notebook.

Alessandro's hand found the small of Shanice's back - a move that used to be possessive but now just felt like him marking his territory. "Incredible performance today. You must have been... inspired."

Marcus's eyes flicked to Alex's hand, then to Shanice's face. Something flashed in them - too quick to read. "Very inspired," he said, but he was looking straight at her. "Sometimes you just want to impress the right people, you know?"

Heaven was rattling off questions about his cleats. Dream was trying to casually get a selfie. Alex was doing that alpha male thing Italian men loved.

And Shanice?

Shanice was thinking about exactly what else those thighs could do.

"Yo! Big bro!"

A younger version of Marcus strode up, already changed into Juventus casual wear. The family resemblance was strong - same height, same build, same dangerous smile but instead of a cropped fade, he wore his hair in dreads.

"Little bro!" Marcus pulled him into one of those complicated handshakes that looked rehearsed. "Tough luck today."

"Whatever, you were showing off." Khephren's eyes landed on Shanice. "Who's this?"

"My new boss," Marcus said, and something in his tone made Shanice's skin tingle. "Shanice Carter, meet my brother Khephren."

"Damn, if I knew Inter's management looked like this, I might've signed with them instead." Khephren's grin earned him a solid smack to the chest from Marcus.

"My apologies," Marcus said to Shanice, but his eyes were laughing. "My little brother hasn't learned manners yet."

Alex cleared his throat loudly. "Girls, come on. Time to go."

Dream and Heaven reluctantly said their goodbyes, leaving Shanice standing there like an idiot, trying not to stare at Marcus's abs through that sweat-soaked shirt that was doing entirely too much.

"I should go too," she said, snapping out of it. This wasn't right. She needed to put up a wall between them right now. She was his boss, for fuck's sake.

She pivoted on her heel, but his hand caught her wrist. Warm. Strong. Trouble.

"The proposal - did you read it?"

"Yes."

"Great. Can we talk about it more? Go over the plan of action?"

"Sure, schedule with Maria for an appointment."

His face changed, eyebrows furrowing. "I don't want too many ears in this situation." He tilted his head toward where the board members and her ex were speaking in low voices. "Maybe dinner?"

"That's not–"

"My treat."

"Marcus. That would be inappropriate."

"Then a business lunch," he countered, "still my treat."

Shanice pulled her wrist from his grasp, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't miss how his eyes followed the movement, lingering just a beat too long.

"Do you think I'm dumb or something?"

"Far from that, Shanice." He straightened up, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. The move was sexy as hell but she kept her face neutral. "You're one of the smartest women I know."

"You don't know me."

"Yet," he added, and they stared at each other for what felt like forever.

"Whatever you think you're playing at, I'm not one of your little friends... or Angels for that matter. Like I said, schedule an appointment with Maria." She turned to leave again.

"So make a call?" His voice was low, just for her ears. Thank goodness no one else heard that.

She paused, glancing back. That smug look on his handsome ass face should've been illegal.

"I'll call you then. To set up the lunch," he said with absolute confidence.

Shanice just scoffed and continued down the tunnel, feeling his eyes on her the whole way.

That man was going to be the death of her career. Or just the death of her, period.

"Mom! Wait up!" Dream's voice echoed down the tunnel. "Why'd you leave so fast?"

Because your favorite player was looking at me like I was dessert, baby girl.

"Time to go home," Shanice said instead, fishing her car keys from her Bottega purse. "Where's your sister?"

"Still with Dad. He's taking us for gelato." Dream studied her face. "You should come."

"Pass." The last thing she needed was to sit across from Alex while he made smug comments about her "meeting" with Marcus.

"Is it because of Marcus?" Dream's voice dropped to a whisper. "Because I saw how he was looking at you. And how you were looking at his-"

"Dream. Don't."

"I'm just saying, Mom. The Angels are pretty and all, but you're like... you're you. And he definitely noticed."

Shanice stopped walking. "Listen to me carefully. There is nothing between me and Marcus Thuram except a business relationship. He's your age, for God's sake."

"He's twenty-seven, Mom. That's not my age." Dream rolled her eyes. "And anyway, age is just a-"

"If you finish that sentence, you're grounded."

Dream threw up her hands. "Fine! But for the record? I wouldn't mind. It'd be kind of cool actually. Like, my mom and my favorite player? That's some Wattpad level plot twist."

"Go get your gelato," Shanice laughed, pulling her daughter in for a hug. "Love you."

"Love you too. Even if you're in denial."

Shanice watched Dream skip back to where Alex and Heaven were waiting, then headed for her car. Her phone buzzed before she even reached it.

Unknown number: Lunch tomorrow? For the proposal.

Her heart definitely didn't skip. Nope. Not at all.

Another buzz: This is Marcus, by the way. Your daughter gave me your number.

She was going to kill Dream.

Third buzz: For business purposes only, of course. 😏

That damn smirking emoji. She could see his face when he typed it, all cocky confidence and knowing looks.

Shanice: Schedule it with Maria.

Marcus: Come on, boss. Let me take you to lunch. Professional lunch. Very proper. Very appropriate.

Those three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again.

Marcus: Unless you're scared...

Oh, this little boy thought he could play with her?

Shanice: Fine. One lunch. Professional. And you're not getting my coffee ever again.

Marcus: We'll see 😈

She dropped her phone in her bag like it was burning her fingers. What the hell was she doing? This was beyond stupid. Beyond reckless.

But as she slid into her Porsche, all she could think about was that damn smirk and those abs and the way he'd said "yet."

She was so screwed.

........................tbd

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