#i want better for you...what's better for you than me? masterlist

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 12

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 11 | Series Masterlist | Part 13

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.7k

Chapter Summary: Bucky gets under your skin when he takes you shopping.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dirty talk, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure how much time passed with Bucky’s head resting in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly moving through his hair. While his body relaxed, you remained rigid. You tried to think of positive things. Your upcoming trip to the winery, Addison’s wedding. The images in your mind darkened though as if a cloud loomed over them. In a way, it did because you didn’t know what Bucky had planned for those events. Because even if Bucky really let you go to the winery alone, someone would be watching.

You forced the cloud in your mind to lift. Things could still be positive. You could still have a good day and have the best time with your friends.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work,” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.”

“Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Brushing his pants off once he got to his feet, he helped you up and didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t attempt to pull away. He made sure to grab the money you left on the table before he paid the server and you tried to give the poor guy a smile when you thanked him. You just wanted to get on with your day.

As Bucky led you out of the cafe and back to the shop, you caught Ray’s gaze as he stood by the car and waited for his boss. Whatever concern he showed for you faded when he blinked. How did he deal with this life? Would he ever walk away from it?

“I’ll pick you up after work then?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t tell him when your shift ended, but he knew, didn’t he? “Thanks for lunch.”

“It was my pleasure, but one more thing.” Bucky stopped you before you could enter the shop. “This regular customer you mentioned earlier. How often does he stop in?”

He asked as if he had no idea and maybe he didn’t in this case. That assumption didn’t ease your worries. “Once a month,” you said, your stomach turning slightly. “Listen, the roses he tried to give to me, I gave them to him first. They were his usual order and I thought it would be nice gesture and I was just-”

His brows pinched a little as his hands gently framed your cheeks. “Kotyonok, why do you sound so upset?” He asked, his thumbs moving in a soothing motion as you took a deep breath. “Wait, are you scared that I’d be mad at you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

“No, no, no, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad that you were kind to another person? That’s one of the things I love about you. It drew me to you,” he assured you. You oddly felt better by his assurance. “I don’t want you to stop doing kind things for others because you’re worried it might upset me.”

“So, it doesn’t upset you?”

“You being you would never upset me,” he smiled. He had said more than once that he loved you as a person, so maybe he was telling the truth. “A man trying to give flowers to you while going through a break-up is, at the very least, a little strange.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to admit that he had a point and that you were slightly put off when Clark tried to give the roses to you.

“I’m also well aware that you don’t hit on any guy who comes into your shop, so I wouldn’t view any act of kindness to a customer as trying to get their attention.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. Even Ray had pointed out to you that you didn’t give guys in the shop the time of day. Why would you when most of them were buying flowers for someone else? “But I just wanted you to know.”

“I appreciate you telling me, but you have nothing to worry about. Just have a good rest of the day.” With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you until I see you again.”

You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered. Relief that Bucky reacted calmly to what you said? You didn’t dwell on it as he held the door open and smiled after you as you went back into the shop. It was time to concentrate on work again.

Mrs. Crandle smiled and waved to Bucky through the door. “Oh, he is a looker,” she winked. “How was lunch, dear?”

“The food was good and Bucky and I got to talk a bit, which was… nice,” you answered, glancing around the shop and wondering if the place was bugged, too. Could he get access to the shop? Letting you continue to work seemed too good to be true, but he’d have nothing to worry about if he had eyes and ears there, too. “He’s taking me shopping tonight.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.”

“I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said.

Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

As expected, Bucky arrived back at the shop a few hours later to pick you up. Instead of giving him the chance to go inside and speak to Mrs. Crandle again, you grabbed your bag and rushed out the door to greet him. He caught you easily when you nearly collided with him, and for the first time, you felt like you were intruding in his space instead of the other way around.

“Eager to see me?” He smiled, his voice teasing as he kept a hand on your shoulder and helped you into the vehicle when you didn’t immediately answer. “How was the rest of your shift? I hope no one else bothered you.”

Just you.

“It was uneventful. I got a lot done,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you from the normalcy of your afternoon. “And no one bothered me.” Your gaze flickered to him and he was hanging onto your every word. He also looked much more relaxed, like the moodiness at lunch never happened. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Also uneventful. A couple of boring calls. Kept thinking about you though and it got me through the day,” he said, slipping an arm around you as the car door closed. The way you two were speaking to each other sounded almost normal. Checking in on each other, seeing how the other was doing. “Steve asked about that double date.”

“I’m sure he’s excited for that,” you said, wondering if that poor coat check girl had any idea.

“We both are. You can find a dress for that, too,” he smiled fondly. “In fact, what would you think of me getting you a new wardrobe when you move in? Your style, your choice on everything. You name it.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. “Is there something wrong with my current wardrobe?” You hadn’t done anything to deserve a whole new set of clothes and you hoped he wasn’t suggesting it to mold you more to his liking.

“Nothing wrong with it at all. You have great taste and I just want to spoil you,” he said, running a finger down your side. This was the man who let you go into his exclusive club wearing a dressed down outfit simply because it was you, so he’d probably let you get away with any sort of wardrobe you wanted. “Do you know how ravishing you look right now?”

“I’m not ravishing. I’m in my work clothes,” you muttered.

“You are ravishing,” he said, moving his finger back up as you shivered. “We should get some stargazer lilies for your first night in our home. I could strip you down, lay you out on our bed, and brush one of the petals along your skin.”

You inhaled sharply and closed your eyes, trying not to picture him spreading you out on a luxurious bed. He would say something like that when he was right in your space and you had nowhere to go. The man went from zero to sixty in seconds. No doubt he could feel you tremble and knew your heart was racing.

“Bet it’ll feel soft against your nipples,” he whispered, exhaling against your ear. “And your pussy.”

Your next breath was shallow, but you managed not to whimper. “Where are we going shopping?” You asked evenly, hoping to get to the destination sooner rather than later.

You stubbornly kept your eyes shut when he chuckled. “You’re changing the topic because you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Worried you’ll get your panties soaked before we get to the shop?” He questioned, your heart thudding. You didn’t want to think about it at all. You wanted out of the car so you could properly breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m not playing nice, am I? We’re going to one of your favorite stores and you can pick out whatever you want.”

You’d no doubt look at the price tags out of habit since you shopped on a budget and bought your nicer pieces on sale. “Do you ever really play nice?” You asked, opening your eyes. “One moment you’re being vulnerable and talking about your family and the next time I see you you’re talking about sleeping with me. I’m shocked the whiplash hasn’t scrambled my brain.”

The image of him destroying the utensil at lunch like it was nothing flashed in your mind for some reason. And him and his gang beating up John. Just how strong was he? Was he a killer?

“Sometimes we’ll talk about something tough or serious and the next it may be something more fun or intimate. That’s part of being in a relationship,” he said. If only it were an authentic relationship. “I want that with you, telling you what’s on my mind and how I feel.”

If he cared about what was on your mind or how you felt, he’d back off and let you have a bit of space. “Relationships are built on mutual respect and trust,” you said. Did he not see that the mutual respect wasn't there since he pushed for things to be his way? And trust was something he couldn't force no matter how powerful he was.

“I understand that. You also said a first date was getting to know each other and seeing if there's a mutual connection. I'm opening up to you, letting you get to know me. I’m getting to know you, too, beyond the things I knew in advance,” he said. What was he learning about you that he didn’t already know? “And you can't tell me you don't feel something for me.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, Bucky? That I want you and want to be with you?” You asked. Even if you did develop feelings for him, it would have to be classified as some form of stockholm syndrome. And even then, strong feelings wouldn’t be enough. He wanted everything from you. “That I don’t want anyone else?”

The hand along your side crept up to your neck, tension heightening when he gently squeezed. He loved putting his hand around your throat. “You do want me, you do want to be with me, you’ll never want anyone else once I have you and I know you love how much I want you,” he spoke with confidence, like he could make the words come true as you took your next breath. “Should I check your panties before we go inside and feel how wet they are?”

You needed to distract him. Fight him. Do something. “What’s your love language?” You blurted out. “Physical Touch?”

“What?” He whispered, your heart still pounding when he slowly moved his hand away from your throat.

“Your love language. You constantly touch me when I’m close to you, so I guessed Physical Touch,” you explained. He always had a hand on you.

He sat back with a pensive look. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Oh,” you said as the car rolled to a stop. You blindly reached for the door handle. “Well, it’s something to think about if you don’t know.”

He held your arm when you tried to get out. “You express yourself through Acts of Service with loving gestures and helping with tasks, but what you crave is Quality Time because you value meaningful interactions and connecting with people on a more personal level.”

You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked. The combination of those languages makes you feel seen and heard,” he continued, giving you a tender smile. “I can hear and see you if you let me.”

You found yourself unable to speak as he gauged your reaction, your throat tight as if gripped by an unseen force. He nailed it right on the head about your love languages, didn't he? “I need air,” you whispered, letting yourself out of the car once he let you go.

The tightness in your throat moved to your heart. Bucky saw and heard you in his own way, didn't he? Not just as a passing thought but because he genuinely believed he loved you, deeply and wholeheartedly. The more he sank his fangs in, the more venom he injected. You had to be your own antidote.

With a shake of your head, you glanced up at the shop. True to his word, it was one you loved. Another piece of yourself that would now be tied to him.

You jumped when Bucky appeared beside you and took your arm. “You okay?” He asked, studying your face with gentle eyes.

“Just fine,” you replied, smiling for his sake. “Let's go shopping.”

You walked into the boutique together, the air filled with a subtle mix of lavender and something sweet that made you feel right at home. The space was a blend of trendy and rustic, exuding charm and intimacy. Clothes lined the wooden shelves and vintage racks, showcasing a variety of styles that ranged from casual to bold. Delicate accessories sparkled in the soft light, inviting you to explore.

You could easily find the perfect dress for the winery here.

“Hello! Welcome to… Oh! Mr. Barnes,” the associate smiled, her heels clicking on the floor. She was a picture perfect example of style and beauty. “I have the back dressing room set up and I’ll be sure no one disturbs you or your girlfriend. It was sundresses you requested, correct?”

Bucky looked proud of himself. “Yes, the perfect sundress for my girl,” he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “And whatever dress you choose, you’ll need jewelry. Oh, and a clutch.”

“Girlfriend?” You asked. He must not have wanted a repeat of how the hostess treated the two of you at lunch. “Wait, you already have dresses selected for me to try on?”

“He called and gave us all the details. And we’ll make sure you have everything you need,” the associate promised as Bucky nudged you ahead of him to follow her. Was anyone else in the shop? “Would either of you like a water?”

“No thank you,” you said. You were never offered a water when you shopped there before, but you were never there with Bucky Barnes.

“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” she smiled, opening the dressing room door.

Bucky thanked her as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from the door, watching you expectantly. “If you don't like any of them, we can go somewhere else.”

“I’m sure they're fine,” you said, going into the room and shutting the door before he could say anything else.

Quickly slipping off your shoes, pants, and top, you turned your attention to a small rack with a range of sundresses. Checking each tag as you pushed through them, none of them on sale, it wasn't a surprise that they were all your size. And all something you'd consider wearing. After flipping through the dresses twice, you decided to try on a sleeveless white dress with small rosebuds. It would be nice for a vineyard.

Before you could put the dress on, the door opened. “Need any help?” Bucky asked as you spun around in your bra and underwear, his eyes slowly scanning your body before you had a chance to cover yourself.

“No. I…” you trailed off as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he breathed your name, want written all over his face. The dressing room felt small. Hot. You could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you. And you couldn't do anything but step back as he stepped closer, a predator ready to capture his prey.

Your back hit the mirror when he brought a hand to your chin, your knees shaking as he leaned in. “You’re right about one thing,” he said in a husky tone. “I do crave Physical Touch. Yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours, keeping you still and giving you no chance to turn your head away. It was a light, feathering sort of kiss before his tongue flicked out to trace your lips. He teased you until you opened up for him and allowed his tongue to sweep into your mouth. You couldn't think as he groaned and continued his claim. It was only a matter of time until he claimed you completely.

Bucky pulled away a little, his free hand moving down your torso in a possessive path. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped. You felt so small, your insides both frozen and melting from his touch. “Just wanna take you home and make you ride my face before I fuck you.”

You gasped when his knee moved between your legs, your hands flying up to hold his arms. He rocked his leg and you felt power in the motion, a promise of what was to come once he had you where he wanted you. “Bucky,” you whispered. The next word out of your mouth was smothered by his lips, but he didn't increase the urgency in his kisses. He took his time. Like the world could be burning around you and he’d let the flames take over as long as he was kissing you.

You bit back a whimper when he rocked his knee harder, the friction sending heat to your core. Another roll of his body and you were certain you felt the outline of his cock. Bringing a hand to his chest, you lightly pushed. It was already going too far. To your surprise, he broke the kiss. His eyes were still hungry though. “You said you want to hear me?” You asked breathlessly, your lip trembling when his thumb brushed it. “Then not here, please,” you whispered, praying he'd stop.

If he was going to have you, it wouldn't be in a dressing room.

“Right. Not for our first time.” He tipped his head back as he took a breath, no doubt trying to control himself. “Just one more kiss, Kotyonok. One more for me to dream about tonight,” he groaned, bringing his face back to yours for one more kiss with fervor. Just when you thought it would turn more ravenous, he shifted to something soft, tender. A feeling that had both of you shaking when it ended, but likely for different reasons.

You stayed upright when he stepped back and gave you space, but your legs still shook as he straightened up his clothes and looked you over once more. If he could devour you with a look... “Thank you.” He actually listened to you and didn't push it any further.

He glanced down as he adjusted his pants and you tried to avoid looking at the tent he began to sport. Horror filled you when your gaze went lower to the wet spot by his knee. He hadn't gotten you off, but you both knew he sparked some arousal within you. “Can’t wait ‘til you really make a mess on my pants,” he smirked, walking out just as quietly as he entered the tiny room.

Fighting back tears once he shut the door, you touched your lips. Bucky finally kissed you. Your mouth still tingled. You still felt him there.

Glancing at the rack of dresses, you wished he really was a sweet boyfriend trying to spoil you just because he could. But he hadn't given you a chance to pick them out yourself. He spoke for you, like you were a doll. It was just another piece he put in place for his twisted puzzle of your relationship.

What was wrong with you?

You pulled your clothes back on and flung the door open so hard it almost hit the wall. Bucky’s smug look immediately changed to concern when you walked out holding a sundress. “This one's fine,” you said in a flat tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up more in his chair. “You didn't try it on, did you?”

“It’s the one I want,” you said, calling for the associate before Bucky had a chance to argue. You gave her a stiff smile when she joined you and handed over the garment, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you. “Whatever jewelry and handbag you think will go with this, I’ll take it. I trust your judgment.”

“Oh, this dress is lovely and we have the perfect accessories for this. Would you like to look at shoes as well? Or maybe something to go with any of the other dresses?” She asked, her eyes wide as you brushed past her. “Miss?”

“I’m sorry. I need to step outside,” you said, not wanting to be rude to her.

Bucky called after you, but you ignored him. You were furious with yourself. You let him kiss you and allowed some of his words to get under your skin. He didn't fuck you, but he still won, didn't he? And you were letting him. Just like with everything else.

You took two steps out of the shop before you felt a grip on your arm. “Woah. Slow down,” Bucky said, turning you to face him. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.”

“Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Heat filled your cheeks and you wanted to smack him. There was a fine line between the delusion he had in his head and the reality of the situation. The tightrope you were walking was close to snapping. “I’m not embarrassed. I can't breathe.” You stepped back, trying to give yourself space. Was Ray watching from the car? “Everything in my life recently has revolved around you or you being there. Say what you want about me being lonely, it doesn't give you an excuse to take over.”

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.”

“Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

“I’m not trying to smother you.” He shifted like he was the one uncomfortable, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I… I know you can't breathe,” he said, lifting a hand as if to reach out before he dropped it and took a deep breath. “That’s why I'm leaving you alone tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now?

“I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

You blinked. “So, we won't see each other tomorrow?” You tried not to get too excited. It was only a day, but between that and the girls day that was still something. You had to go the cautiously optimistic route again and take what you got.

But you also couldn't help but wonder why he was really giving you that space. Did Ray or someone say something to him? Was this another ploy to keep you in line?

“You won't see me. God knows I’ll miss you, but it's just a day, right?” He squeezed your hand. “Maybe you’ll miss me, too.”

“I appreciate you giving me that space,” you said sincerely. He needed that space, too, even if he didn't believe it. “And maybe I will.”

“We won't have to miss each other much longer once we're together in the penthouse,” he said, his tone soft and your heart sinking. “Will you answer one thing: Did that kiss mean something to you?”

You didn't want to answer that. If you denied it, it would be a lie or he’d either see through it or snap. If you confirmed it, it would feed him more hope. You still had to examine your feelings because you were afraid and you couldn't think with him staring at you with those longing eyes.

“It meant something,” you answered, not expanding on what exactly it meant when he exhaled. It wasn't smart to let him decipher it how he wished because he could use it against you later.

He took your breath away once more when he pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped and brushed his nose against yours. Any passerby would think it was a sweet moment between a couple making up from an argument. “Thank you,” he whispered, his thumb moving along the racing pulse in your wrist. “Come back inside, please? Pick out a few things for real and then I’ll take you home so you can relax.”

You remembered that the bugs were still in your apartment, which took some more of your enthusiasm away. But if Bucky was really going to leave you alone tomorrow, you’d have to appreciate the time to yourself. Maybe you could pack a bag and get out of the city even sooner than planned.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right? What was the worst that could happen? Making him freak out over your safety? That could be bad.

“Okay. A few things for real and then home,” you agreed.

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.”

You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,” you said, missing the pair of blue eyes that watched you and Bucky go back into the shop.

So, a little bit of action. 😏 Will it be enough to tide Bucky over? Is he really going to leave you alone for a day? Who was watching you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dollarbils]

focused | j.o.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

context. your girlfriend’s been busy all day. all you’re craving is for her focus to be on you.

warnings. angst, smut, degrading words.

masterlist

she’d been glued to her laptop all day. consumed in this new script she’d received. of course you were excited for her, you’d seen the way her face lit up. but she’d been at it for hours, days.

“jenna, when are you going to give yourself a break, how long is this script?” she wasn’t fully listening, still engrossed by the letters on the white screen.

“hm?” she barely looked over at you, registering thad you’d said something, but nothing more.

“jenna please. i feel like i haven’t seen you in days even though we live together.” she seemed to have had picked up on your tone because this time she turned around, facing you.

“sorry, what did you say?” she asked you to repeat yourself for the second time.

“i miss you, love. it’s been ages since we’ve talked or spent time together.” she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“what do you mean? we see each other all day.” she chuckled, not taking the conversation seriously.

“i’m serious jenna, you’ve been glued to that screen for the past two days, i’ve barely heard your voice. it’s been keeping you up at night too.” instead of self reflecting, she went on the defensive immediately.

“that’s not true. i just really need to get this script looked over. i was told i could comment on anything id like to possibly get changed. do you understand how rare it is for an actor to get that opportunity?” she got up from the desk chair, waving her hands around as she yelled.

“no, of course i do. but that doesn’t mean you can’t at least take a break.” she rolled her eyes.

“i have taken breaks, it’s not my problem you’re so needy all the time.” the insult was misplaced and you felt embarrassed.

“i’m needy? jenna i haven’t had a conversation that’s lasted more than a minute in the last 48 hours. wanting more than that is not needy.” you couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled in, the fact that maybe you were too needy.

“oh my god, you’re so dramatic. just wait for me to finish and then i’m all yours.” her tone was condescending, and you soon found it ridiculous that you were fighting over this.

“it’s not only about me, you need a break too.” she didn’t seem to care.

“just give me five minutes.” you knew five minutes would turn into five hours but it didn’t matter anymore. and once five minutes had passed, you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep, no longer having the energy to fight her.

-

after some time, she came through the door, to find you sleeping. it’s not as if she’d wanted to upset you, but this script was really exciting to her. she hadn’t meant to ignore you.

“baby,” she shook you awake, not wanting to go to sleep without fixing this.

“jenna, i’m not in the mood.” she was slightly taken aback by your cold words.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart.” she sat upright on the bed, caressing your arm gently, coaxing you into forgiveness.

“please.” she repeated, and even without elaboration it was clear what she was asking for.

“okay.” you folded as the soft words left your lips. you pushed the covers back and let her take you in her arms. she kissed your forehead earning a sigh, as you relaxed in her warm embrace.

“what can i do to make it better?” she asked with genuine concern, however your response was a mischievous grin. she raised her eyebrows as she questioned the look you were giving her.

“i could use some head.” she laughed at your reply and kissing your smiling lips.

“i can arrange that.” she whispered in your ear, her hands burning the skin at your waist.

“my poor angel’s touch starved. tell me what you need, baby.” her voice was sick with power. she loved having you so desperately begging for her. although she did feel bad.

“fuck, jenna. i just need you to t-touch me.” her smile widened and she fumbled with your shorts, not planning on wasting any time with you.

“mm, can’t get off on your own huh? need my help.” she urged you to reply and when you didn’t she pulled your chin in order to face her.

“y-yeah, need you to help m-me.” her fingertips were brushing against your clothed clit, causing your words to break up in a stutter. she enjoyed how desperate you sounded beneath her touch, her words rendering you more and more flustered.

“so pathetic aren’t you.” her words were harsh because she knew it turned you on. you were nodding without realising what you were agreeing to, too focused on the filthy words leaving her mouth to ponder on their meaning. she chuckled into your neck, her warm tongue soothing the bruises she’d created.

“jen-jenna, please.” her hands pulled down your panties before she began to play with your wetness, spreading it around and earning choked whines from your throat.

“hm, who are you so wet for baby?” she teased but you didn’t have the strength to reply as she lowered her head between your thighs. her tongue laid flat against your clit, tasting your arousal while her fingers toyed with your entrance.

“f-fuck.” instinctively, your thighs shut around her head, making her hiss.

“open wide for me.” she instructed, looking up to see you fisting the sheets with your head thrown back. however when you had relaxed, you’d managed to comply with her request.

“that’s it.” she affirmed, her mouth latching onto your heat once again. you were soon returned to your previous state, your mouth an exit for all sorts of pornographic noises. you physically couldn’t keep quiet. and when you began grinding against her tongue, she groaned into you, the pleasure of devouring you finally expressed.

“oh my god, jenna please- please keep going.” she smirked into your pussy, flicking her tongue over your clit, and darting it in and out of your entrance. it felt so good. she was too good.

“fuck, jenna. so close, can i-i.” your eyes were shut as the pleasure built up, so close to your release.

“mhm.” she nodded, her face still buried in your arousal, bringing you to the edge and helping you ride it out once that chord has snapped. you felt yourself grow warm as the pleasure consumed you, clenching around her tongue. she came up to kiss you, her tongue sure to penetrate your lips so that you could taste yourself.

“am i forgiven?” she smiled and you couldn’t help shoving her playfully at the look she was giving you.

“yeah, i’d say so.”

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Chosen Appa | Wooyoung

- Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Single-mom!Reader.

- Requested by: no one

- Requests: Open for now. Please read my requesting guidelines before requesting.

- Warnings: single mum, hints at readers ex-husband being a cheater and an overall douchebag, best friends to lovers.

- Word Count: 1,205

- Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Wooyoung Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

Walking back into her small living room, Y/N is met with silence. The babbling sounds of her 15-month-old baby girl, who usually keeps herself entertained with her toys in her play pen while Y/N does the housework, has gone quiet. Assuming her little one might have fallen asleep, she peeks into the playpen only to discover that her daughter is missing.  

Panic sets in as Y/N searches every corner of the apartment, trying to convince that her baby isn’t capable of climbing out on her own yet. Her eyes dart to the entrance, where she notices the stroller and the diaper bag are missing. Relief washes over her and is quickly replaced with annoyance as she picks up the phone and calls the only person brave and sneaky enough to kidnap her baby in broad daylight. 

He quickly answers but before he can start his yapping, Y/N yells at him. “Yah! Jung Wooyoung! You better bring my baby back right now.”  

“No,” he says defiantly. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately with finding a new job, the divorce and your soon to be ex-husband being a total asshole. She’s coming with me to the studio while you have a few hours to yourself," he insists.  "Don’t worry; she’ll be safe and sound. You know everyone here loves her.” 

Y/N can almost hear the smirk in his voice, and it only fuels her irritation further. “You can’t just take her without asking me first! What if something happens? What if she gets scared?” 

“Y/N,” he interrupts, his voice firm yet gentle, “You know I won't let anything happen to her. I protect her as if she's my own." 

"Fine, but if you pull a stunt like this again, you'll never see her again," she warns her best friend. "You got that? I'll make Yeonjun her godfather. You’ll be no one to her." 

"You really trust Yeonjun with Hannie?" he asks, skeptically. 

"He wouldn't kidnap her without me knowing," she defends their mutual friend.  

Wooyoung chuckles on the other end of the call, the sound brings some comfort to her. “You know, I think you’re just jealous because I didn’t kidnap you for the day too. Stop with the housework and enjoy this time to yourself. Take a walk, go get some lunch, do a little shopping.”  

Y/N sighs, her shoulders slumping as she leans against the kitchen counter. The weight of her responsibilities presses down on her. Never did she think she would be jobless, almost divorced and a single mother. But four months ago, everything came crashing down. Her husband’s mistress turned up at their door, crying and pregnant. She left, losing her job in the process, and moved in with her mother who’s been helping support her and Hannie while she finds a new job so she can get an apartment. But finding a job was proving harder than she expected. She’s seriously considering the job her mum offered her at the small restaurant she owns. 

Y/N feels a twinge of guilt for wanting a moment to herself. “I know, but she’s my baby. I can’t help but worry.”  

“Worrying is part of being a mother, but you also need to take care of yourself,” Wooyoung replies, his voice softening.  

Y/N bites her lip, contemplating his words. He’s right, of course. The past few months have been a whirlwind of stress, and she hasn’t had a moment to breathe. “Okay, but I want updates and photos. Text me every hour, or I swear I’ll come down to that studio and take her back myself.” 

"I promise to send you plenty of pictures," he assures her. "Hannie, say see you later, eomma," he adds, moving the phone closer to Hannie.  

Hannie babbles into the phone until a clear word breaks through. "Appa!" 

Y/N’s eyes widen with shock. Hannie just said her first word. Her heart swells with a mix of pride and disbelief. “Did she just say ‘Appa’?” Y/N asks, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she’s afraid to break the special moment. 

"I've been trying to get her to say eomma," Wooyoung admits after putting his phone on speaker, disbelief and pride in his voice also. He quickly ends the call and calls her back on video call. 

She quickly answers and the first thing to pop up on her phone screen is her little girl, her bright eyes sparkling with innocence and joy as she looks past the phone at wooyoung. She’s always imagined the day her daughter would speak her first word, and now it was directed at someone else. Someone that wants nothing to do with her. The reality of her situation hits her like a wave, and she feels a lump form in her throat. 

“Appa,” Hannie keeps saying, her tiny voice filled with joy as she looks up at Wooyoung, her little hands reaching out wanting him to pick her up. "Look, Hannie, it's eomma," Wooyoung says, turning the phone to show Hannie her mother on the screen. For a brief moment, she captures the baby's attention, and Y/N can see the flicker of recognition in her daughter’s eyes. "Can you say eomma?" he playfully encourages, trying to elicit another word from his goddaughter.  

Hannie giggles, her focus shifting back to him, her laughter like music that fills the room. "Appa!" she exclaims again. 

"I think she's calling you Appa," Y/N says, the realization dawning on her. When she thinks about it, Wooyoung has present in Hannie's life more than her own father. Especially since Y/N and her ex-husband ended their relationship. Hannie's father hasn't had anything to do with her since. 

 "Me?" he asks surprised, turning the phone camera back to him. "Why would she call me Appa?" he questions not really thinking about it. 

"Maybe she sees me as a father figure," Y/N tries to convince herself, but deep down, she knows that Hannie is forming connections, and Wooyoung is a significant part of her life. 

"I mean, I’ve been around a lot since you and—" He stops himself, the mention of her ex-husband hanging in the air. 

Y/N swallows hard, the lump in her throat growing. "You have been," she admits, her voice growing softer as she thinks about it. "You’ve been a great, Wooyoung. I don’t know what I would do without you." 

He smiles, but it’s tinged with something more serious. "I just want to be there for both of you. You know that, right? You and Hannie mean the world to me." 

"And you mean the world to us," she replies with a warm smile, her heart swelling with affection. In that moment, she realizes that there could be something more between her, her daughter and her best friend. Wooyoung has stepped into a role that neither of them expected, but it feels right. 

"I don't think this is a conversation that should be spoken about over the phone," he says after a moment of silence. "I'll bring Hannie home now and we can talk more." 

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips and ends the call. She rushes around the room, picking up toys and putting away the play pen. anticipating Wooyoung and Hannie's return home. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.

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[endearng]

Special guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter usually went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He extended you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear during working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smiling adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[leclarifies]

strawberries & cigarettes (MV33)

✰ max verstappen x driver!reader ✰

summary: you had a bad habit that you never told anyone. it was smoking cigarettes when you had a particularly bad day. max was nothing more than your co-worker, but when he catches you during a particularly hard night, he offers some comfort in the form of strawberries.

genre: fluff-ish me thinks, drabble

wc: 880

a/n: congrats to max who had an absolutely fantastic drive in brazil! here's a little gift for everyone in tribute to max's win last night <3 inspired from troye sivan's song, 'strawberries & cigarettes'. also if you want to be added to my taglist, please do let me know! i've been wanting to start one for a bit now :3

MASTERLIST ✰ ASK ME ANYTHING ✰ REQUEST A FIC!

smoking was a bad habit of yours you'd like to keep a secret. you knew it was bad for your health and you knew you should stop because it might affect your performance on the track but you didn't care once you lit one up and let your worries fade away.

it was a particularly hard night and you just wanted to be left alone.

the sunset was off in the distance as you watched silently, with a cigarette in hand and lighter in the other, leaning against the railing.

italy was beautiful, but you hated today.

smacked with another dnf. driving for alpine had its ups and downs— more downs than you would like and today was no different. especially if it was no fault of your own.

"retire the car," your race engineer had told you through the radio.

you felt like you could cry.

it was your 100th race start and the fucking car couldn't even drive right.

but you did so anyway and off into the garage you went.

dragging a deep breath, you let the smoke in. breathing out only when you felt dizzy enough.

"i didn't know you smoked," a familiar voice sounded from behind you. you knew better to smoke in public but you needed it.

you didn't have to turn around to see who it was, you knew.

"not a lot of people do," you tell him as he leans against the railing next to you.

you glance and you see a pretty dutchman in casual clothing, looking off into the distance as well.

you sat in comfortable silence, the both of you not wanting to say anything.

it was nice hanging out with max, it was always calm, peaceful and quiet. he gave you your space and you always gave him his. tonight was no different.

"do you do it when you're stressed? or is it a thing you do behind the scenes when no one is looking?" max was the first to break the silence as you take a drag of your cigarette, remembering to blow it away from max.

"i do it when i have too many thoughts in my head, cigarettes make me dizzy. in a good way," you tell him, then he glanced at you.

"aren't you scared it's gonna affect your performance?" he asked and you shrugged.

"i came a long way from karting, if cigarettes take me out then it is what it is," you laugh almost bitterly before standing up right and look down on the ground before looking back up again.

the oranges and purples in the sky made it look breathtaking.

"is it hard?"

"what is?"

"being a female driver?"

you only glance at max as an answer, he knew the answer and you knew the answer too.

"that was a stupid question, wasn't it?" max chuckled before looking back at the sunset, the darkening of the sky was apparent, you could only laugh.

"it is hard, max," you could feel him shuffling next to you and you didn't know what he was doing, only realizing he took out strawberries out of his pocket.

"strawberries are better for your health," max tells you gently as he puts one on your palm and pops in his mouth, "they taste better too. i think it'll help you in the long run if i can help you wean off the cigarettes."

"thank you max," you tell him softly, dropping the cigarette bud and step on it once it reaches the ground, also popping it in your mouth in a similar fashion as him but you laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation.

who carries around calyx-less strawberries in their pockets?

"do you usually carry around strawberries without their leaves in your pocket?" you ask as you took another one from his palm which was stretched out to hold a couple more strawberries.

max laughed at the thought but he shook his head, "no, i just came from the store and saw you here, i thought you might need some comfort from today..."

"i should be mad at you for winning so consistently," you laugh, it was annoying seeing him win every single race but you didn't care at this point. there was no reason for you to be mad, only proud of him.

"you shouldn't. you don't have the best car this season, give yourself some grace," max said before you chewed on the strawberries carefully. you cringe as the sour taste of the strawberries mixed with the aftertaste of the cigarettes.

"the taste of cigarettes and strawberries don't go well together," you snort as you continued eating on the strawberries.

"this is a sign for you to stop smoking when you're stressed."

"as long as i get an excuse to finally hang out more with my rival, i'm not complaining."

"are you flirting with me right now, y/n?" max looked at you, almost as if the idea was ridiculous.

"no i want to know your strategies, please hand me some," you gave him and max laughed even more at your pitiful face.

"you'll get a seat next to me next year."

"what do you mean by that verstappen?"

max didn't answer.

"hello? this is not a sign for you to ignore me!"

short drabble, i just wanted to write max without having to deal with off the grid :( hope u guys like it :3

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘, 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 1.8k words puppy boy hybrid x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags hybrid puppy, breeding kink, knotting, master kink, humping

—📜" As much as you wish that owning a pup is easy, it’s not. You’re going to end up with a headache, missing clothes, and an aching hole at the end of the day. His rut is approaching and—oh dear, this is going to be bad.

When people tell you to get a pup, they don't tell you about the horrid responsibilities you have to go through. 

It's always: 'They're such sweet things! You will always feel loved', 'Very loyal boys and girls', 'It's always going to be a joy around the house', and 'You have to be prepared to give them a lot of love. Ha. Ha. Ha.'

They don't tell you about the burden of actually having a pup.

"Fucking—Atlas! Drop that right now!"

Atlas, your newest pup, is bigger than your average pup. He's also a lot more handful than you imagined. A German Shepherd hybrid is often rare to come across in normal companion shops. Most are already taken by some older chap who wants some protection.

This one appeared at your doorstep. Now, he's currently running around your house with your socks in his mouth.

You groan, almost unable to keep up with him, "What is with you? Why're you so goddamn hyper?"

He tries to say something, though his words are muffled by the pair in his mouth. His tail wags behind him enthusiastically as you continue to miss him when you attempt a tackle.

Fastening out the living room, you try to keep up. "Atlas! Down boy!" He ignores you as he keeps manoeuvring inside your house. He ends up in the storage room, and you corner him there.

When you expect him to cower with nowhere to go, something else catches your attention. Atlas is rushing towards the corner behind some boxes. You peer; he has his old mattress covered in a cloud of your clothes.

"Fucking hell, Atlas," you sigh, "what is this?"

He looks at you like he has nothing to say. "What is what?"

"This? I thought I lost my sweatshirt, but—god, your fur is all over my pants!"

An unbothered look is plastered on his face. He sits on the pile of clothes happily before you start pulling them away.

Rushing, he goes after your cruel hand to take away your clothes. "Hey! That's mine!"

"No, it's not," you snatch your fucking underwear from the pile, "this is all mine, and I'm putting them all in the laundry."

"But what am I supposed to do if you're gone~?" he falls to his back and rolls around. His arms spread to cover all the clothes he could. He's too protective of your dirty clothes and you need to take them away now.

"Guard the house," you say. You kneel down on the mattress, tugging for the shirts. "Seriously, I would guess you're a retriever if I didn't see your papers."

He huffs. "Don't compare me with those sons of bitches." Atlas sits up, defeated. All of his work disappears into your arms. "I'm way better than all of them."

"Yeah, yeah." You need to come back to get the rest. With a grunt, you stand up and take them to the laundry room.

An extra pair of steps follows you there. Surprisingly, you turn to see that he's carrying the leftover clothes. "How nice of you to help for once," you say. "Just separate the whites, okay?"

The two of you fix your laundry. His tail sits low between his legs, a shy blush accompanying his downward ears. He's looking at your clothes like it's his arm—taken away forcefully by some evil monster. Which is you, by the way.

Overcome by his puppy looks, you throw a sweater in his direction. "Keep it," you say, "but if you take any more, I'm making you sleep outside."

He yips excitedly, cuddling the sweater by his chest as he's come alive again. That fucking easy to make this silly pup happy.

"Thank you so much~!" he giggles as he hugs you from behind. Seriously, is he a retriever? Atlas embraces you tight, pulling your body as close as possible to rid the distance between you.

You ignore him as you put your underwear away. "Yeah, yeah. You're welcome, pup."

"My master is the best," he cooes, head nuzzling to your neck. His ears tickles.

Pulling away is impossible. He tightens his grip as he moves the both of you back and forth. "Absolutely the best," he says, his tongue licking under your ear and to your nape.

Suddenly, his innocent movements are not so innocent anymore.

"Y-yeah. Just let me down, Atlas." His embrace starts to become little humps. "Atlas!"

"Master," he breathes out, teeth feathering over your skin. "A-ah… I love Master's scent so bad," he giggles, loopy.

"Good for you, Atlas," with a rough hand, you attempt to pull away. It ends with him whining and pinning you down to the washing machine. "Fucking hell, Atlas..!"

For a fact, you know that his rut is nowhere near. You were planning to neuter him for your safety, and now he's grinding needily on your clothed cheeks. You struggle against his strength. All he does is disapprove of your rejections.

When he growls, it's your time to scold him. "Atlas," you harden your tone, "fix your attitude."

A pained whimper leaves him. Immediately, he backs away. Turning around, you can see his hardon through his shorts.

"S-sorry," he says, pulling down his shirt to try to have some decency. "Master, I'm just really happy to have something of yours. I'm getting really excited."

You can tell. "Yeah, but I'm busy doing laundry right now. Now I got more clothes to wash because of you. See my dilemma?"

For a split second, you can see his cock twitch in his trousers. You sigh. "Sorry," he says, "Can I… fuck, can I just maybe hump you? Please, Master? I'll be so careful."

One thing that they were right about pup boys is that they're needy. And that they're good at giving you those stupid puppy eyes everyone is irresistible to. You feel yourself giving into his whims.

"Fine," you say. His eyes light up like fireworks. "Don't get too carried away. I'm still sore from last night."

Last night: getting stuck on his knot for an hour before having to calm him down when you pull away.

Atlas is back to his excited self as he mounts you from behind. Thankfully, you've placed most of your clothes back in the machines now. He pulls down your shorts, spitting on his hand as he rubs your hole—Jesus.

"Be careful," you hiss, gripping the ends of the washing machine. "Seriously, I'm sore.

"Don't worry," he smiles. "I'll take care of my Master~"

Red rises to your face. Somehow, he makes the simplest thing sound so sexual. You try not to let it sink in but he keeps mumbling your name as he fingers you open.

"So open for me, Master," he moans, rubbing your insides and scissoring you open. He's breathing into your neck and his cock is pressed against your thighs.

The height difference between the two of you is making the angle a bit awkward. He pulls you up so one of your knees lays on top of the vibrating top of the laundry machine. He's breathing hard, turned on just watching your hole clench around his fingers.

A breathy laugh leaves him. "Mmph… I'm sorry, Master. I need to be inside you now—"

"Wait!"

You're not sure when he undressed himself. But he has a leg up as he fucks his cock inside of you. A guttural moan leaves you, overwhelmed by the sudden stretch. Though your body remembers his shape, you're still too sensitive for this.

"Master," he moans, panting as his tongue tickles your neck. "S-so good… You feel so good around me, Master. I wish you could feel it~!"

He puts both of your hands on your stomach, making you feel the little bulge in your stomach. His long pup cock is thick, reaching deep inside of you with the base of his knot already forming. He's too excited and you're sure he's in his rut.

Atlas fucks his cock deep inside of you. He tries to slow his movements as much as possible. Yet, you can feel him whimper and whine as he struggles to keep a tame pace. His mouth is dropped open as he pushes his cock as deep as possible—he has a need to imprint inside of you.

"Atlas," you breathe out, clenching around him. "Just fuck me already, pup. Breed me with your big fat knot."

Your words are immediate. If you could look back, you would see his ears perk up and his tail wag excitedly. Taking your word, he ruts inside of you as if his goal is to put a baby inside of you.

"Yes! Th-… thank you, Master!" he moans, hips slapping lewdly against your ass. "So fucking good, Master. I love it—hahh… I love your sloppy hole so much. S-sucking me in like you want to be bred by me~"

He's manic as he puts a hand on your hips. "So good, so good, so good, so~… good!"

You want to lay your head down. Each thrust hits you deep inside; it rubs against your sweet spot. You feel yourself go crazy as he doesn't care for your own pleasure. He's chasing his own climax, and it makes you clench around him in desperation.

"Maste-e-e-r," he drags out, burying his head in between your head and your neck. "Puppy wants to breed master so bad. Wanna—wanna see you round with puppy's seed. S-so good."

"Breed me, pup," you cry, whining as he's basically only grinding inside of you. You can feel his knot start to attempt to push in. "Get inside of me, pup. Let me have your seed."

"Ah, ah, ah~!" He screams as his knot spreads open your hole—it pushes inside and he's quivering. Your oversensitive hole is being stretched to its last extent. You can barely feel your legs as he's grinding his knot inside.

"So good," he moans. You can feel drool going down your shoulders. "M-master… I'm gonna cum. 'm gonna cum. Puppy's gonna cum inside ofMaster. Gonna-gonna fucking breed Masta-haaah..!"

Waves of his hot cum surges inside you. He's holding you tight; attempting to fill you to the brim, he doesn't let you leave his knot. You're left hanging there to take all of him. When he thrusts inside of you unexpectedly, you can't help the spurt of cum that comes out of you.

He feels you tighten more and groans. "S-so tight," he whines, wiggling his lips as if that would help. "Mmph. Master, you're so nice."

If you were in a better mindset, you would be criticising him. Saying that your compliance is his fault. Instead, you just lay there and take it.

A few minutes in, the haze leaves you and realisation punches you. "You little shit, your knot is gonna be in me for an hour!"

"…I think I'm going into rut, Master. I'll- er… I'll maybe last an hour or more."

"Atlas!"

Owning a pup boy is way too much work. You briefly consider giving him away to some adoption centre. Though he's too attached now, and you might find him back at your doorstep.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ shu_TMX

[latenightreadingpdf]

First Kiss - Remus Lupin

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Sirius, James, and Peter tease Remus about his lack of a first kiss.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Marauders’ dorm was a hub of noise and laughter that night, with Sirius sprawled out on his bed, proudly recounting his latest adventure with a girl he’d met in Herbology. He stretched his arms out with a smug smile. “Absolutely couldn’t keep her hands off me,” he said, punctuating the sentence with a wink. “Who could, right?”

James, perched on the edge of his bed, raised an eyebrow but couldn’t keep from laughing. “Right, because obviously, you’re the irresistible Sirius Black. Never mind your terrible reputation.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “At least I’m doing something about my love life, unlike some people here,” he said, nodding toward James. “Speaking of—how’s it going with Evans?”

James grinned, his eyes brightening. “Actually, better than usual,” he said, a bit bashfully. “Last time I asked her out, she didn’t seem nearly as annoyed. Progress, right?”

Sirius clapped his hands together in a grand show of celebration. “It’s happening! Lily Evans is finally seeing the charm of our dear Prongs!”

Remus, sitting off to the side with a book in hand, did his best to block out the conversation, though his lips twitched into a faint smile. He turned the page, not really reading it, but it was better than participating in the banter. Maybe, if he was quiet enough, they’d forget he was there.

But, of course, they didn’t.

Sirius smirked as he turned to Remus. “What about you, Moony? Got any secret admirers you’re hiding from us?”

Remus shrugged without looking up. “No,” he said simply, his eyes stubbornly fixed on the book in front of him, even though he hadn’t comprehended a single sentence since Sirius started talking.

James leaned back, resting on his hands, and squinted at Remus with a skeptical grin. “I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet, have you?”

Remus felt the tips of his ears go warm. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Peter let out a small, surprised gasp. “Wait, really? Remus, you haven’t?”

Remus gritted his teeth, shrinking back slightly as all eyes in the room turned to him. “Yes, really. So what?” he said, bristling defensively. He sank lower into his chair, feeling the familiar urge to just vanish.

James held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Nothing wrong with that! It’s… noble, even,” he said, nodding. “I’m waiting for mine, too. For Lily.” He leaned back with a dreamy look on his face, as if he could see her there in front of him, and Remus had to bite back a chuckle.

But Sirius wasn’t about to let it go. With a mischievous grin, he jumped to his feet and swaggered over to Remus, leaning close. “You know, Moony,” he whispered conspiratorially, “I could help you out. Want me to teach you how to kiss?”

Remus’s eyes widened, and he tried to pull back, clutching his book tightly to his chest. “What? No, stop that!” he stammered, face burning. “I know how to kiss. I’ve read books!”

But Sirius was undeterred, moving even closer and pursing his lips in a ridiculous kissy face. “Oh really? The books taught you, did they?”

Remus flinched, scrambling back as much as he could while stuck on the bed, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. Sirius was nearly nose-to-nose with him when the door creaked open, and a voice interrupted their antics.

“Um…” You paused in the doorway, eyebrows raised as you took in the scene. “Should I come back later?”

Remus jerked upright so quickly he almost fell off the bed. He shot Sirius a warning look and quickly scrambled away from him, trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left. “No! No, you don’t have to leave,” he said, still looking as flustered as ever. “Stay. Please.”

You glanced between them, an amused smile on your face as you walked over. “What’s going on?”

Remus coughed, his gaze shifting to the floor. “Nothing. Absolutely no—” He could only hope you wouldn’t ask any more questions.

But, of course, Peter piped up. “We were just talking about how Remus hasn’t had his first kiss yet,” he said with a cheerful grin, clearly oblivious to Remus’s mortification.

Remus shot him a look, but the damage was done. He glanced at you, his cheeks going pink all over again. He hadn’t wanted you to hear about it, of all people. If he’d felt embarrassed before, now he was ready to crawl under his bed and never come out.

“It’s not a big deal,” he muttered, clutching his book like a lifeline. “I was just going to go somewhere quiet to read. A place where they don’t talk about my… kissing experience,” he added, shooting a pointed look at his friends.

Without waiting for a reply, Remus turned and made his way out of the dorm room, his heart pounding in his chest. He was halfway down the corridor when he heard footsteps following him. He slowed down and turned to see you jogging to catch up, your face softened with concern.

“Hey, Remus,” you said gently when you reached him, looking him in the eyes. “Is it true? You haven’t, um…?”

Remus sighed, pressing his lips together. He’d never thought about his inexperience much before, but now it felt like a glaring flaw. “Yeah, it’s true,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a mumble. “It’s a bit pathetic, really, isn’t it? Everyone else—Sirius, James—they’re all so confident, and I’m just…” He trailed off, letting out a frustrated sigh.

You reached out, your hand resting on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t think it’s pathetic at all. It’s kind of sweet, actually.” Then, with a small, knowing smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

It was so brief that Remus barely had time to process it, but when you pulled back, he was frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes and a stunned expression. His cheeks went a brilliant shade of red, and he swallowed, completely speechless.

“There,” you said softly, smiling up at him. “Now you don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”

The sound of voices suddenly broke the quiet, and the two of you turned back to see James and Sirius shouting about something from inside the room. You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I should probably go check on them before they tear the place apart. You go enjoy your book, alright?”

With a final, reassuring smile, you turned and walked back to the dorm, leaving Remus standing alone in the hallway, still clutching his book and staring after you, completely dazed.

He finally looked down at the page in his book, a foolish grin tugging at his lips. He knew that focusing on reading was going to be utterly impossible.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ please tell me somebody gets the reference I made 🙏

[castiwls]

juno .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'one of me is cute but two tho’

Requested; @mochminnie

Notes;

Masterlist | short n sweet

Children had never really been on your or Dean's radar. Sure when you were younger the idea of a picket fence had sounded nice but now as an adult and knowing the life you currently lived, you’d both come to an unspoken agreement that it was not the time for kids.

Well, that was until you ended up in the possession of a shifter baby.

“C’mon, sweetheart you’re not seriously considering it.” Dean laughed climbing into bed beside you. He pulled you into his side with a quiet sigh.

The last few days had been nothing short of insane. He thought he’d seen it all and then suddenly Sam’s back and now he has an extended family he wasn’t sure if he trusted or not.

The only person acting like god damn normal was you. Well, you were until you’d announced that you wanted a baby.

He wasn’t ready for a baby! He was pretty sure he’d also just proved it if the way you’d reacted when he’d given the shifter whiskey was anything.

“Think about it.” You hummed, your tone dreamy almost as the image of him holding the baby flashed through your head again.

“I am.” He responded gruffly as his eyes slipped shut. “I’m thinking and I’m telling you no.”

You huffed looking up to him with a slight pout. Dean cracked an eye open, grinning at your expression. “Don’t pull that face at me. No babies end off.”

He squeezed your body closer to his as you continued to frown. “Can’t we just talk about it? I saw you with that baby Dean, you didn’t look too annoyed then.”

He hummed looking at the ceiling for a moment. Maybe the baby had been slightly cute.

“Though if we do have a kid we are not naming it Bobby-John.” You scoffed. Dean shot you an offended look as he moved back ever so slightly to see your face better.

“Hey! What’s wrong with my naming abilities!”

“You can get middle naming duties.”

“Hey, if we’re doing this it’s my child too sweetheart and I’m not letting you name it somthin stupid like…like Sally.”

“Sally? Seriously?” You shook your head, amusement flashing in your eyes as you saw the playful glint in his own.

Dean nodded. “So we’re at an agreement. No Sally.”

“No Sally.” You nodded.

Dean’s hand rubbed over your shoulder slowly as you sat up, shifting to sit across his lap. He smiled as you came face to face, his other hand brushing a piece of your hair back.

“Think about it. A little baby who’s the spit of me or you? How cute would that be!” Your voice was soft now, the same one you used to convince him to let you pick the dinner place whenever you were bored of his constant fast food.

“Think about it? For me?”

He huffed but fell quiet. A mini-you did sound a lot more appealing than another version of him. The world didn’t need two Dean Winchesters running around.

“I dunno sweetheart, two of you sounds kinda like a nightmare.” You gasped hitting his chest.

“Shut up, a mini version of me would be so cute.”

“Mhm.”

“Dean!”

“I’m joking.” He laughed. “I’m joking. I think it would be adorable.”

You nodded happily before falling quiet. “Does that mean you’re willing to try?” You said after a moment, peaking up through your lashes.

“Jesus-“ he huffed before taking a breath. God damn it you’d made the idea so appealing.

“It better be a damn girl.” He grumbled before flipping you both over. You gasped as your back hit the mattress before a slow smirk grew on your lips.

“If not we can always try again.”

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

Paring: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: The only person who could ruin a vacation in Italy was your stepmother, but what if she made it unexpectedly better?

A/N: Okay, so this was inspired by the second season of White Lotus and the title is in italian because I thought the english word was too crude.

I hope this isn’t too OOC, let me know!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

Warnings: Face slapping, non-consensual spanking, dubious consent, unwanted arousal, degradation kink, face sitting.

I hope I didn’t leave anything behind, but if I did let me know.

Word count: 3.1k

Date: Nov 05, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The sun shines through the blowing white curtains and into the bedroom. The last few days in Sicily were cloudy, and as pleasant as they had been, you’ve been longing for a day at the beach. The weather today was perfect for spending time in a bikini and staying at the hotel, not visiting any tourist spots or museums.

Italy is breathtaking. College was wearing you out, so spending a few weeks away from the student mentality is doing you good, it also helps that your father is paying for everything, even if it doesn’t erase the complicated relationship you two had.

Waking up early is mandatory in every vacation and today was especially easy. As soon as you had taken a peek at the open window of your room, you got out of bed. The constant tiredness you felt from your routine had vanished a few days into the city, and you were excited to make the most of it.

Skin glistening with sunscreen, you head downstairs for breakfast. The buffet was set up on a covered balcony with the chairs outside, where you could enjoy the view of the italian architecture as you ate. Grabbing a few fruits and a spoonful of eggs, you head out to find an empty table, only to catch sight of your father’s raised arm moving left and right to get your attention.

This vacation would be perfect if it weren’t for them. 

“Good morning.” You say, settling on one of the chairs.

Your greeting goes unanswered. Your father is back on his phone and your stepmother gives you a mouth pressed smile, doesn’t bother pretending she likes you. Every time you were in their presence, you felt like throwing up. Besides the fact that your father is 30 years older than her, you still hate both of them for the affair they had while your parents were together. 

You’ve always known your father was an asshole, but adultery was the final straw. The only reason you kept in contact with him was because of your mother. The saint she was, begged you to not distance yourself from him, scared you would be alone when she was gone, and how could you not grant a dying woman’s wish?

Rio was a cunt, but you couldn't deny that she was attractive. Your father wanting to stay with her wasn't a huge surprise. It was pretty clear, though, that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She was obviously with him for the money, and you were pretty sure she was cheating on him. Karma is a bitch, after all, and your dad’s time has finally come. 

Eating your meal slowly, you enjoy the light breeze blowing your hair back. Cargo navy blue shorts and an open white button shirt hide away your black bikini and when you stretch your arms up, you feel eyes on you. Turning towards your stepmother, you’re greeted with sunglasses covered eyes and a similar blouse to yours, her brown hair is down. 

“I have to get some work done, so I won’t be able to spend the day with you.” Your father tells you, finally looking up from the phone.

“That’s fine.” You reply, shoving a spoonful of papaya into you mouth 

Oh, thank goodness you wouldn't have to stay with them today. 

“Rio will go to the beach with you, though.” 

Your eye twitch at that. Glancing in her direction, you see her tongue poking into her cheek and a side smile, clearly enjoying your suffering. 

“I’m sure she would like to do something else. “ You try. 

“No, no. I want you to spend time together, get to know each other.” Your father and his need to make you two close, this whole trip was all about that and yet you still avoid her like you have done all these years. You’ve never wanted any kind of relationship with her and that wasn’t about to change. 

“Whatever.” You breathe out. 

“Come up to our room. Rio needs to change and I can give you girls some cash to go out and buy a few clothes.” Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Spending as much time away from her as possible was one of your goals in this vacation.

He leaves his uneaten breakfast on the table and gets up. 

“Fine.” You concede. 

In the hallway, they walk ahead of you and you take a moment to watch them. Your father moves with the confidence of a rich white man with a plastic filled face. He’s in his 70's and doesn’t have the worst body, but if Rio was putting up with him because of money, it must be torture. She was clearly above his level, with black hair, slim body and defined arms. Anyone could see that. She had a powerful aura and walked with a sway to her hips. 

You look up when you realize you’re staring at her ass. 

The white door opens up with your dad's key card. Their bedroom is huge. The entrance leads to a living room with two couches and a coffee table. At the parallel wall to the entry, a large door opens to a balcony with a beautiful view of the mountains, the water constantly crashing against the rocks. Their bed is on the left side and is separated by a bow shaped wall, the other side of the room is the bathroom. It has a big counter with multiple beauty products. 

“I’m off. There’s a computer room downstairs, if anyone needs me, I’ll be there.” He hands you three hundred dollars and goes to kiss Rio. 

He holds her waist firmly and she turns her head before his lips contact with hers. She pushes him slightly back and pat his shoulders, you hold in your laugh. 

“Okay then.” He mutters embarrassed, ruffling your hair on his way out.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds after he leaves for you to turn to her and say. “Look, we don’t have to do this. I don’t want to spend time with you and I’m sure the sentiment is mutual.” 

She fake gasps at you, eyebrows raised and smirks. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” 

Rolling your eyes, you head to the bathroom to wash your hands, they feel sticky after eating the fruits from breakfast. You hear some movement in the bedroom and assume Rio is grabbing her bikini. The wardrobe door closes shut and you glance up in the mirror to watch your stepmother's figure walking behind you. You’re one step away from moving out of the restroom when she slips her blouse and shorts off. 

Time seems to stop as you watch her with her back to you, her ass is completely bare and you stare as she first ties the top knots of the two-piece. She bends to pull up the bottoms and you look down to your hands, your breath comes out shallowly, the image buried into your mind.

“Boo.” A voice says, her breath ghosts your ear and you try to hide your startlement. 

Looking up, you purse your lips. She’s standing a foot behind you and smiles smugly in your direction. When you turn around, her face is closer than you expected.

“What do you want?” You ask sharply.

“What do I want?” She repeats slowly, her fingers running through your hair ends. “You tell me.” She stares into your eyes and you squint, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back.

“Fuck off.” You let out an incredulous laugh. “I always knew you were a whore, but this is beyond anything I’d have expected.” 

“Why? Are you still mad at me because of mommy?” She teases with a fake pout. 

Your entire face closes off and you take a step towards her. 

“Don’t talk about my mother. You could never be half of the woman she was.” 

“Oh, yeah? Your father would disagree.” 

The reaction is instantaneous. Your palm stings from the contact and you gape at her, surprised at your own slap. With your hand frozen in midair, you observe as her head turns back in your direction, her cheek is stained by red fingers and she lets out a breathy laugh, running her digits through it. 

“You are gonna regret that.” 

The apology that was about to come out of your mouth is cut off by the yank on your scalp, your body is forcefully rotated towards the sink and you hold the impact with your palms. The tug in your hair makes your back bend in an uncomfortable way and your neck aches as it’s pulled back. Rio pressed firmly against your arched ass and rested her chin on your shoulder, looking at your startled face through the reflection. Her nails sink in your flesh.

“What are you doing?” You breathe out, partially scared and slightly aroused. 

“Has anyones ever told you that you’re a brat?” She avoids your question with one with her own, you feel fingers running down your waist. 

“Has anyone ever told you?” You return. 

She scoffs as her mouth breaks into a grin, shaking her head left and right. The digits you felt moving through your covered skin grip you with full force and move to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning it. Panic flashes in your eyes as she pushes it down. You struggle against her hold and she pulls your hair harder. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” 

Breath catches in your throat when her fingers grab a handful of your bare ass. 

“Do you know how I tame a brat?” She whispers in your ear and answers her own question. “I teach her a lesson.” 

The sound of her palm colliding with your backside echoes off the white walls and your surprised yelp follows it. The slap doesn’t hurt, you could bet Rio didn’t put all her strength into it, the worst part, for sure, is that it felt good. The sting brings a delicious burn to your skin and you prevent yourself from asking for more.

The second time it happens, you grab harder into the counter. Words seem to fail you and you stand still, this whole thing feels like a fever dream. You look up at the mirror and see Rio’s eyes completely fixated on your ass, she smoothes her hands through it and you shudder. 

The one that follows is firmer and you groan, unable to contain yourself. Goosebumps mark your skin and your body reacts to the pain, shifting uncomfortably against your bikini.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” She asks, raising her brows and giving you a maniac grin.

“Fuck you.” 

She ‘tsks’ behind you and hums, slapping you three times in a row. The reaction is instantaneous and you hate yourself for pushing your ass back against her. 

“Who’s the whore now?” She asks in your ear and laughs. 

The taunting worsens your condition. Slick gathers in your underwear and you bite your lips, stressed by the way your body is reacting to your step mother. She doesn’t give you any type of relief and smacks you two more times. This torture seems to be going on forever, but you’ve only counted seven slaps. You had no idea how long it would last.

You’re about to speak when she strikes you one more time, with an open mouth, you aren’t able to contain the moan that escapes you and your face lights up like a christmas tree.

“You are so cute when you blush, sweetheart.” She tells you and licks your ear, her palm massages your sore butt and she adds. “Everytime we meet, I just want to have you all to myself.” She pulls back and looks at your pitiful position. Arched back, red ass and shorts bunched up mid-thigh, she runs tongue over her teeth. “When I saw the opportunity today, I just knew I had to take it. It’s so easy to rile you up and the fact that you hate me only makes it all the more delicious.” You shudder at her words. 

She is fucking mental. 

She surprises you for a second time with a spank. Tears well up in your eyes, the sting is worse than before and your arousal is burning you up from inside. The whole situation is making you dizzy, you feel like you’d fall down if Rio wasn’t holding you so tightly. Your neck hurts and you almost beg her to stop, but you couldn’t handle the humiliation, so you face it like a big girl. 

She delivers two more and you screw your eyes shut. One tear runs down your face and you feel Rio releasing the grip on your hair, turning you around to face her. 

“Ten slaps, that’s all. No need to cry.” She runs her thumb over your wet cheek. 

The sink presses against your backside and the cold of it helps with the burn, with your eyes still closed, you take a deep breath. You’re still in shock. 

“Did you learn your lesson?” She asks, her palms holding your wrist against your breasts. 

You stare at her for a second. Laughing at her smirk, you spit right in her face. She closes her eyes, whipping the dripping saliva with her fingers. Her entire face closes off, her patience seems to have run thin. 

She doesn’t say anything else, turns around and pulls you by the forearm. You struggle against her hold, but she’s stronger than you expected. Losing your balance when she throws you on the mattress, you don’t have time to get up before she’s upon you, holding your wrist above your head and kissing you roughly.

You hate yourself for it, but it doesn’t take 5 seconds for you to kiss her back. She’s in full control of the kiss and you writhe beneath her, failing to release your arms. Her tongue runs against yours and you can barely breathe from the intensity, your head spinning. 

One of her hands runs down your side to the bikini bottom. 

You suck in a breath when she separates. 

“I could eat you alive in this, couldn’t take my eyes off you at breakfast.” She tells you, licking your cheek. 

Her hand brushes the black fabric before pushing it aside, you are embarrassed by your state. Her fingers run through your wet folds, circling your entrance as you whine, desperate to be fucked.

“You are pathetic.” She says close to your face. 

Fuck your body for reacting the way it shouldn’t. The degradation turns you on even more and you feel your resolve crumbling. Rio chuckles at the intern battle she sees in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to use that pretty little head of yours for long.” 

She rolls off of you. The opportunity to escape presents itself and you don’t move an inch, with your wetness sticking to your thighs, you just want Rio to have her way with you. She smirks at you and crawls up your body until she’s stradling your ribs. 

She doesn't put her full weight on you as she squeezes your cheeks and says. “Let’s see if this mouth is good for anything other than being disrespectful.”

You barely have time to understand the implication before her cunt completely shadows your vision. Her bikini is set aside and she pushes her hips down, making you grip her thighs in an attempt to control her pace. Giving up on your moral high ground, you lick a stripe up her lower lips. She hums on top of you and grinds down, her juices smear on your chin and you’ve only just begun. Apparently you weren’t the only one affected by the spanking.

Focusing your attention elsewhere, you leave a hard bite on her inner thigh, taking your hatred on her skin. She moans and sits completely on your face, making it impossible to breathe. 

“You better get to work, sweetheart.” She mocks you and amends. “Before you pass out.”

You fully believe she’d let that happen so with renewed energy, you grab into her butt and grind her center against your face. Your tongue circles her entrance before going in. Hearing her hand grab the headboard, you begin to move in and out. Your pace is rapid and she seems to enjoy it as she starts to ride your face. Sucking her lower lips makes her groan on top of you, so you repeat the motion and squeeze a handful of her ass, making her moan. 

With little breath, you stick your tongue out and let her chase her own orgasm. She slowly moves in circular motion and spreads her juices around your face. Her movement picks up speed and within seconds she’s bouncing against your mouth. You grip her ass tightly and feel your nose bumping against her clit. 

She becomes a moaning mess on top of you. 

For someone who can’t breathe, however, eternity seems to pass as you struggle to keep up with her. She is clearly on the edge and trying to reach her peak, so, in a last attempt to get her off of you, you run your tongue all the way up before sucking her clit as hard as you can. 

Her movement comes to a halt and you feel her body tensing up, her thighs tighten around your head and your ears ring from the pressure. Her orgasm finally hits and she shudders on top of you, breathing heavily and letting out unrestrained moans. 

She collapses beside you and you take the biggest gulp of air you can manage. Your breathing is as ragged as hers and you curse yourself for having a weakness for older women, this shouldn't have happened. 

Silence befalls you for about a minute as Rio gathers herself and you contemplate your life choices. As soon as her breathing is slower, she gets up on her knees in the bed. All your previous worries leave your mind as soon as she’s back upon you, straddling your waist and biting her lips.

She kisses you and grasps the wrists that hold her face, you press your center against hers and let out a whine when she pulls back and gets out of the bed. With a puzzled face, you sit up and ask.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the beach.” She simply says, grabbing a sun hat and putting it on. 

“What?” You rapidly blink.

“You heard me.” Her face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen in her sulking face. 

“Rio.” You whine like a petulant child. 

She comes towards you and gives you a long peck. Your mouth follows hers  as she pulls away.

“Brats don’t get rewards.” She states and heads for the door, exiting the room with a witchy cackle as you throw yourself back onto the bed. 

[777heavengirl]

the one with Pobol y cwm

sirius black x reader ! - 1,091 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: HAPPY BDAY SIRIUS BLACK MY BELOVED- SURPRISE UPDATE IN HONOR OF HIM TODAY- oh dear pls dont look at this too in detail i am very sick and exhausted but i wanted to put something out for his bday...

Sirius had never been a crier. Yet as his nimble fingers dug into the soft material of your sweater, and his body shook with sobs— it became clear to you that he had just been holding it in. 

He hadn’t said much after he walked through his door, red-eyed and ready to crumble. 

But you knew. 

You had always been this way. Just knowing, him. Knowing somehow, what he was thinking, what he was feeling. You could tell, most of the time anyway.

You knew he felt sorry, and you knew he felt frustratingly heartbroken. Angry and furious, but deeply blue. The little boy inside of him had lost his mother, and there was nothing he could say to himself that would make it better. 

 Because through all her faults, her disgusting vile words, and even worse behavior. Through her hexes and unforgivable curses, through every bit of torture that Walburga had subjected Sirius through, it was still his mother.

She would always be his mother.

Disowned or not, abuser or not, the owner of his nightmares, the person he hated most. Nothing could ever erase the fact that for at least the first sixteen years of his life, she had been his mother, and in a way, in a deeply hurtful, and grief-ridden way, she would always be. 

So he cried. For the mother he had until age ten, for the mother he had been subjected to until sixteen, for the mother he never had in the first place. 

It didn’t matter how many times Sirius told himself to not cry over her, it didn’t matter that he truly hated her. It didn’t matter he once had half a mind to kill her himself. He realized that he’d never get the good relationship he had always secretly wanted. As long as she was alive, even though Sirius would rather die himself than admit it, the stupidest goddamn part of him was still holding on to that chance. 

He had never realized he was still clutching onto that.

Until the chance got ripped away.

So you sat, with his face buried in your stomach as he kneeled in front of his bed, in front of you. Sobbing. His arms around your torso and clutching at the material of your jumper with white-hot fists. 

You didn't know what else to do besides hug him back, trying not to cry. Your hands pet his hair, strong and steady, because you knew that was what he needed the most right now. 

Your reliability, your care, your unconditional love for him. 

And you did, love him that is. 

From the bottom of your heart, you loved Sirius Orion Black.

Even if you hadn’t talked in weeks, even if you felt like a ghost in the house, even if you had been planning your move out no less than thirty minutes ago in a fit of anxious desperation.

“I’m sorry Sirius” you didn’t think he heard you over his earth-shattering sobs, but he shook his head slightly, almost as if wanting to say no, don’t be. “I am sorry, I know she was horrid-”

“I hate her-” his words were hoarse and raw, he didn’t look up. “I still hate her, I need her to wake up so I can tell her- god I can’t tell her-” You could feel his words reverberating through his throat, 

“I hate her so much, I hoped she’d die in some- in some disgusting gruesome death, I just-” he took a deep breath, his breath ragged and shaky “I hoped it would be something ironic and karmic like getting hit by a muggle bus but that goddamn bitch had the audacity to go in peace- in her sleep no less merlin- I- I- just keep hoping that I’m dreaming and that she’s… there and rotting alive in that awful house” 

“I’m sorry-”

His voice was calmer now, still buried in your sweater, still embracing you. “I hate her and I am glad she’s dead, she doesn’t deserve to be alive and well after everything she put me and my brother through- but the stupidest part of me- is still mourning”

He loosened his hold on you, and he slumped between your legs, his face now only half-buried in your torso. You could see the red splotches that had bloomed on his porcelain skin.

“I don't know what I feel any more love, I feel out of control”

“I know”

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you”

“I’m sorry too-”

“Please don’t leave me… don’t leave me alone”

“I don’t think I could leave even if I wanted to Sirius- not that I do… don’t worry-” Your fingers carded through his hair “I will always be here”

“I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to apologize- we can talk about that later… do you want to go for a walk?”

He lifted his head up slightly, enough to steal glances of your face as he wiped his face with his fingers. 

“Can we just watch Pobol y cwm-” his voice was low and gloomy, it broke your heart.

“Yeah, we can watch Pobol…” You tried smiling at him, it was a sad one, but he mirrored it nonetheless. It was hard not to get emotional while seeing him this way. 

Shattered and somber. 

Irrevocably burdened with the knowledge that while yes he mourned his mother, just some idolized version of her he buried deep within the confines of his mind— he would never get justice either. 

Sirius Black was relieved, he realized, as he laid his head on your shoulder and watched the advertisements on TV. His abuser was dead, it was more than he could ask for. Yes, he’d have to talk to you eventually, tell you how he feels, even simply explain why he got so upset. He’d have to write to his brother and not repeat the cycle of anger that was embedded deep within their veins. He’d eventually have to face his father. He’d have to face the fact that he, did indeed, have grief over the death of Walburga. 

But all of that could wait for tonight, he had you right now. 

With your arm around him, tucking his much larger form into your side, with his legs over your thighs and Pobol y cwm playing in the back. The soft of your sweater, and the sweet soft scent of your hair, the warmth from your hand drawing circles on his back. It was all that mattered right now.

It was just you and Pobol y cwm.

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth

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[stxrvel]

disclosure (6)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!

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The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.

And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.

Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.

You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.

“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”

The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.

It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.

The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.

The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.

You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.

It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.

But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.

“The editors said you'd be here.”

You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.

His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.

You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.

“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”

Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.

Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.

There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.

“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”

“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”

That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.

“Yes…”

“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”

You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.

“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.

“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”

Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.

But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.

Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.

“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”

As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.

“How do you know Min Yoongi?”

Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.

However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.

“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”

Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.

“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”

Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.

Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.

“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”

As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.

But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…

“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”

Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.

“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”

You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.

You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.

“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”

“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”

You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.

“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”

You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.

You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.

It seemed the most certain theory.

“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”

And it seemed you were right, too.

You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:

“That explains a lot.”

“Huh?”

Play dumb, play dumb.

Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.

“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”

Wow.

Okay.

Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?

That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.

“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”

Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.

Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?

None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?

In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?

You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.

And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?

“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”

You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.

“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”

Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

You should've listened to Yuna.

-

The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.

Maybe you added a few extra curse words.

“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”

Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.

Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.

“Y/n?”

You raised your head.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.

“Is it because of the book?”

“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”

“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”

You shook your head. “No.”

It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.

You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.

Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.

“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”

“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”

You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”

“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”

Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.

Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.

That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.

But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.

However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.

Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.

Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.

Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.

-

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.

In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.

However…

The whole table was still silent.

And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.

Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.

When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.

But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?

“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”

Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.

“I don't think there's much to say.”

It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.

“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”

With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.

“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”

Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.

“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”

Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.

“And what did I do?”

“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”

“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”

Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.

And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.

“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”

Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.

“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”

Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.

“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”

Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.

“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”

“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”

“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”

“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”

“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”

Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”

Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.

There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.

“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”

Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.

“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”

“Hyung, I'm sorry…”

Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.

And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.

“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”

The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.

For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.

“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.

When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.

“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”

Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.

“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”

Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.

“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”

Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.

Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.

“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”

Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.

However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.

Namjoon used to believe.

Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.

“Hyung…”

Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.

Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

y/n Let's meet

--

omg🙊🙊

tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision

[redroomreflections]

Let It Linger

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

9/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 6k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha raises Nicky on her own.

Note: I think I spent a total of nine hours on this chapter today. I wanted this one to be out immediately after the other one. 'Twas hard editing and Grammarly hates me but we got it.

There were boxes. So many boxes and bags she needed to pack into this quinjet. Apparently, she was better at multitasking than she thought as Natasha loaded up another item up the ramp. She eyed the pile of bags and boxes stacked by the entrance of the house, each one a piece of the life she was trying to keep together. There were essentials: clothes, supplies, and every scrap of familiarity she could gather for Nicky. But even so, packing felt like she was gathering remnants rather than carrying a life forward.

Natasha hefted another box onto her hip, balancing it while she reached to open the hatch on the Quinjet. She’d been working nonstop, only pausing to check on Nicky, who was perched near the ramp with Stella's stuffed shark clutched in his hands. He missed his sister. He toddled around the quinjet, picking up rocks, and patches of grass, attempting to stuff them into his mouth.

"Nicky, no, don't put that in your mouth," Natasha gently scolded. The toddler dropped the blade of grass and gave her a look that reminded her of you. That look tore through her every time, spurring her to work faster, to keep him distracted, safe, and normal—even if she didn’t know what “normal” looked like anymore.

“There we go,” she murmured as she placed the box inside, taking a deep breath before straightening up and dusting her hands on her pants. “See? Told you we’d fit it all.”

Her words fell flat in the empty cargo bay. She glanced around, looking for Nicky. A bolt of panic shot through her as she caught sight of him toddling away from the jet.

“Nicky! Stay near the jet!” Natasha called her voice firm but gentle, a note of weariness woven through it.

But as always, Nicky was determined, his little legs carrying him farther down the hill, his gaze locked on the swaying trees at the edge of the clearing. She cursed softly under her breath and jogged after him, scooping him up just as his fingers reached out for the grass. His small face crumpled, the beginnings of a pout forming, and he squirmed, his hands grabbing at the air, trying to clutch the grass he’d been reaching for.

“No, baby, it’s not safe,” she said firmly, tucking him close as he fussed. She forced herself to look away from the tree line. He didn’t understand, but she did. There were too many memories lingering there, places she couldn't risk letting him wander.

Nicky’s lip quivered, and his small hands gripped her collar in silent protest. She sighed, cradling him closer, and kissed his forehead, murmuring, “I know. I know, buddy. We’ll be home soon.”

She walked him back to the jet, where the boxes and bags were already stacked and waiting. Nicky’s weight against her shoulder was steady, grounding—so unlike the lightness and emptiness she felt inside. He was growing quickly, each day a small reminder of time slipping by. He’d be two soon. How had it already been three months? Three months of hollow silence, of talking to him in soft whispers, of answering questions she knew he was too young to ask but that he felt in his own way.

“Almost done, buddy,” she said, trying to keep her tone upbeat, but her voice cracked. She turned back to the house, and with him still clinging to her, walked through the door one last time to grab the last bag. Standing there in the doorway, she felt the weight of everything she was leaving behind, the faintest echoes of laughter and warmth still lingering in each corner.

With a deep breath, she slung the bag over her shoulder and glanced around. She was carrying everything she could now, every piece of what you'd built, gathered together in the small world she’d assembled for Nicky and herself.

“You’re getting heavy,” she murmured to him with a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Nicky settled his head against her shoulder, his tiny fingers clutching at her sleeve as if he knew she needed the comfort more than he did.

It was time. They couldn’t stay here any longer, in a place so haunted by the memories of you. As much as it hurt, she knew returning to New York was the only path forward. The only way to find you. There were no resources here in Missouri. The compound had everything she needed. Natasha began to walk distractedly back to the quinjet, lugging the bag and Nicky effortlessly. She set him down, noting that he was following her, as she placed the bags into the bay. As Natasha slid the last bag into the Quinjet, she heard a faint jingling sound behind her. Her first thought was that Nicky had gotten hold of one of her empty holsters, and she was about to gently tell him to stay back. But then her voice caught in her throat as she turned around and saw it: a large, powerful-looking German shepherd standing a few feet away, intently sniffing in Nicky's direction.

Her body tensed instinctively. The dog was big, with a thick, well-muscled frame and the kind of alert gaze that signaled sharp intelligence and strong instincts. Natasha stepped forward slightly, inching closer to Nicky, her body a barrier between him and the strange dog.

“Hey there…” she said quietly, her voice steady but wary, as the shepherd lowered its nose toward Nicky, taking in his scent. Her eyes darted between them, ready to scoop Nicky up if the dog showed even a hint of aggression. But instead, the dog took a step closer and gave a short, chuffing sneeze, his head cocking to the side in an unexpectedly endearing way.

Nicky let out a tiny laugh, his hands reaching toward the dog without hesitation. Natasha’s heart lurched. Nicky had never been afraid of anything, and this was no exception.

“‘Mama,” Nicky said excitedly, his face lighting up. “Doggie!”

The dog, apparently pleased with the attention, let out a gentle huff and pressed its nose into Nicky's small hands, tail swishing low but wagging softly. Natasha exhaled slowly, her hand resting protectively on Nicky's back as she took in the scene.

“Alright, I guess you’re friendly,” she muttered, unable to keep a faint smile from creeping into her expression as she watched Nicky's chubby fingers grasp at the dog’s fur. The shepherd sat back on its haunches, its gaze moving between Nicky and Natasha as if patiently awaiting a command. "Where's your owner?" Natasha asked.

She scanned the area, her body tense, her hand resting on the knife strapped to her thigh under her pants, but saw no sign of anyone else. It didn’t make sense. How had the dog managed to get out here on its own? Of course, the house wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere but he'd have to walk far on his own.

The dog seemed content, its gaze flicking back to Nicky. Its tail thumped softly, and a low whine rose from its chest.

"Mama, doggie," Nicky giggled again.

"I know, the dog is nice but he can't stay," She shook her head. "We have to go. C'mon, kiddo."

Nicky looked at her with wide, pleading eyes, his little mouth turning down in a pout.

"Do we have to?" she groaned, knowing she'd lose this battle.

Nicky clapped his hands and squealed, his voice rising into an excited babble, and the dog let out a soft huff.

"What's your name?" She reached slowly for the dog tag. She squinted, holding the small piece of metal closer, but it was faded. Her brow furrowed as she tried to make out the words etched there.

"Ollie?" She tilted her head.

The dog stood and stretched, its large body shaking. It gave a gentle bark, its ears flicking as it regarded Natasha.

"Alright, okay, we can keep you for a little while," She nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner. She carried Nicky over to his car seat, ensuring he was strapped in. Natasha watched as Ollie hopped into the seat beside him and rested his head in Nicky's lap, just beside the stuffed shark.

She was almost surprised when Nicky didn't fuss or try to wriggle out of his restraints. Instead, his small hand tangled in the soft fur at the top of Ollie's head, and he looked at her expectantly. As if they knew each other their whole lives. Natasha smiled to herself as she took her place in the pilot's chair, running a last system check before taking off.

She could have sworn the dog looked right at her, its head cocked, its ears swiveling toward her. She felt a sudden wave of sadness, her fingers tightening around the controls.

"Don't worry, buddy," she murmured, her voice tight with emotion. "We're going home."

*********

Natasha paused just outside the glass doors of the compound, shifting the weight of the toddler on her hip. Nicky’s tiny hands clung to her jacket, his gaze curiously drifting over the building as if sensing it was different from the small home they’d left behind. She'd forgotten that he had never been there. He hadn't known her life as an Avenger. It felt like a lifetime ago.

It was different now. Emptier. The building was quiet and dark, save for a few lights here and there. The once-busy hallways were now nearly silent. No footsteps echoed against the tile, and no voices or laughter broke the stillness. The air was cool and smelled faintly of food. Someone was cooking.

The sound of claws tapping against the floor made her look back. Ollie padded up behind her, his tongue lolling out in a panting grin, his tail wagging softly.

"Okay," Natasha muttered walking further into the compound. "We're home, Nicky."

He made a small, inquisitive noise and buried his face against her shoulder, his little fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket.

In the kitchen, Tony and Pepper sat together at the counter, sharing a quiet dinner. They were deep in conversation, their voices low, but Natasha caught glimpses of concern in Pepper’s expression as she leaned closer to Tony. They were discussing something serious—she could tell by the way Tony was fiddling with his coffee mug, brow furrowed.

The sound of her footsteps made them both look up. Tony’s mouth fell open for a beat before he quickly regained his composure, but the shock in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Natasha!” he exclaimed, his voice somewhere between delighted and bewildered. “And...a kid?”

“Yeah.” Natasha tightened her hold on Nicky, who watched Tony with wide, curious eyes. “This is Dominic.”

Tony blinked, looking from her to the toddler and back again. “Is he...yours?”

“He’s mine,” Natasha replied softly, her tone steady but carrying a weight that only those who knew her well could understand.

"Did you steal him?" Tony asked. He barely flinched at the pinch Pepper given him under the table.

"No, Tony, I didn't steal him," she muttered.

"But you've been gone for—"

"He's my son," She cut in, her tone firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Pepper's expression softened.

"It's nice to meet you, Dominic," Pepper's voice was soft and calm.

Nicky made a soft noise and tucked his head against Natasha's shoulder, shy and uncertain.

"This is Aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony," Natasha murmured to him. "They're good people."

Tony and Pepper exchanged a brief look.

"He's a mini you, Nat," Tony said quietly, a small smile creeping into his expression.

"I tend to think he looks like my wife," Natasha shrugged. You did birth him after all.

Tony’s jaw dropped, and he blinked at her in shock, trying to process the words.

“Your…wife?” he repeated slowly, looking at Natasha as though he were piecing together a puzzle.

A flicker of emotion crossed Natasha's face—something softer, something mournful. She glanced down at Nicky, brushing a gentle hand over his hair as he burrowed closer to her shoulder.

“Yes. My wife,” she confirmed quietly, her voice laced with a kind of bittersweet strength. “He takes after her, you know—especially the smile.”

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again, his brow furrowing, and Pepper reached to cover his hand with hers, gently squeezing his fingers. "And the dog?"

"I stole him," She said.

Tony chuckled softly.

Natasha was suddenly exhausted. It was too much, too fast. She needed space. Space to breathe, space to process, space to be with her son. She shifted her weight, and the motion drew Ollie's attention.

"He's been a good help," she murmured. "Dominic's not fond of long rides. Usually y/n would sit with him and help him sleep."

“Oh, Natasha…” Pepper murmured, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Natasha gave a small, tight nod. “It was…before all of this happened.” She took a deep breath, glancing around the compound as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “After the snap, I…didn’t know what else to do. And I thought maybe…coming back here might help us.”

Tony cleared his throat, clearly still processing. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. You’re both welcome here, Nat.”

Nicky peeked up at Tony, his shyness momentarily forgotten, and Tony gave him a little smile and wave. “Hey, kiddo. I’m your Uncle Tony, and we’ll…work on getting you into the best tech school money can buy.”

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint smile, some of her tension easing. “One step at a time, Tony.”

He held up his hands, conceding, and gave a small chuckle. "You must be hungry. Have you eaten?"

"No," she admitted.

"Sit. I'll get you both something."

"I don't think he'll eat anything."

"He's gotta eat something," Tony waved a hand. "I made steaks."

"You cooked?" Natasha questioned.

"Yes," Tony shot her a glare. "And you're welcome. Pepper and I have been taking turns, but it's not as if we have a chef."

"I'm sorry," Natasha whispered, a small blush creeping up her neck.

"Sit, Nat. I'll get you both something," Pepper said softly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her gaze shifting to Nicky. Before Tony could ask more questions, Steve stepped into the kitchen. He was sporting some serious five o'clock shadow and his hair had grown at least an inch.

"Nat?" he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes widening slightly. He was frozen to the spot.

"I thought you might have run off to Europe again," Natasha commented.

"I, uh, have some business here. Wanted to be back if things changed," He answered.

"I'm glad you did," she said, a sad smile forming.

"How's Nicky?" Steve asked.

"Wait? You know him? You knew about him?" Tony brought a plate of food to place in front of Natasha.

"I did," Steve shook his head."I met him when I went to get Nat and her family," He shrugged.

"Family?"

"Yes, Tony. Family. Y/n is my wife. Nicky is our son." Natasha clarified. "Stella is...she's our daughter. She's three."

"But you were gone," Tony said. "A lot. Here with us. Like all the time."

"I took breaks, Tony. And yes, I was gone a lot. That's why we bought a house. Y/n could stay home. It was easier than having a nanny or putting Stella in daycare."

"Oh, uh. I didn't know," He murmured, suddenly realizing how insensitive he was being.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. I just came for a drink," Steve said, grabbing a bottle of water and backing away.

"Steak, Cap?" Tony called.

"I'm good, Tony," He waved.

"You could stay," Natasha suggested.

"I don't want to intrude," Steve said.

"You won't. Nicky needs someone to keep him busy. Ollie will only entertain him so much," Natasha chuckled.

"Ollie?" Steve looked confused.

"Our new dog. He found us before we got here."

Just as he sat down, Nicky reached for Steve, his tiny arms opening and closing. Natasha's heart lurched. He was looking for a connection with the only other person he knew. Steve scooped Nicky up, placing him on his lap, and began to speak to him in a low, quiet voice.

"So," Tony clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "What did this wife of yours look like? How did you meet her?"

Natasha took a bite of her steak, chewing it slowly, letting the silence draw out until Pepper gave him a look. "She was a former SHIELD agent."

"She was?" Tony was confused.

"Yes," Natasha nodded.

"When did you meet her?" Steve asked.

"Tony, I really think we should discuss something else," Pepper told him gently. She could see the tears forming in Natasha's eyes.

"Like what?" Tony was oblivious.

"Tony, she lost her family," Pepper scolded.

"Right," Tony backed down for once. His curiosity was evident.

"Tell us about him," Pepper gestured toward Nicky.

"He's stubborn," Natasha smirked. "Just like his mother. And he's brave, and he's smart."

"We're going to get them back Nat," Steve said firmly. She wished she could believe him.

**************

The days had started to blur together, each one folding into the next in an endless cycle of searching, planning, and hoping. Natasha clung to Steve's words with everything she had, holding onto the idea that somehow, she’d bring you and everyone else back. She pushed herself to the limit, reaching out to anyone and everyone—Okoye in Wakanda, Rocket and the Guardians, and even a scroll of world leaders. Every door opened led to another closed one, and yet she kept moving forward, refusing to believe that all hope was lost.

But being an Avenger, a relentless force in her search, wasn’t her hardest job. Every time she returned to the compound after a long, fruitless day, her hardest job began: being a mother to Nicky. He’d started speaking more, toddling around the compound, exploring every nook and cranny. His laughter resonated down the quiet halls, moments of brightness in an otherwise somber world. Yet there were days he grew frustrated, looking around as if he knew someone was missing but couldn’t understand why.

Here they are in their suite just the two of them and Ollie. Ollie watched with slight interest, one ear raised, as Natasha placed a single cupcake in front of them on the coffee table. Finding it had been a challenge—most bakeries in New York were still struggling to recover, their shelves often bare and their employees long gone. But today was special. Today was Nicky’s third birthday, and despite everything, she was determined to give him a good day.

The cupcake was modest but beautiful, topped with a swirl of frosting and a single candle flickering gently in the still air.

“Look what I found!” Natasha exclaimed, leaning closer to him with a playful grin. “It’s your very own birthday cupcake!”

Nicky clapped his hands and giggled. "It's my favorite color, Mama."

"Red," She smiled, her fingers gently tugging on his ear.

"Like Mama's hair."

"Yes, like Mama's hair," She kissed his cheek, pulling a box of matches from her pocket.

"I'm three," he added, holding up three fingers. "A big boy."

"That's right, baby," She lit the candle and started singing, her voice quiet and slightly raspy.

As the song ended, Nicky squealed and bounced up and down in her lap. "Make a wish, sweetheart," Natasha whispered.

Nicky looked at the flame for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Do I blow it out, Mama?"

"Yes, that's what we do. We blow it out."

"And then we make a wish?"

"Yep."

Nicky stared at the flame, his chubby hands resting on Natasha's forearm, and let out a short puff of air, the flame wavering and sputtering out.

"What did you wish for?" she murmured.

Nicky grinned. "A basketball."

"You like basketball?" Natasha's brows rose.

"I wanna play basketball," He told her.

"Maybe when you're bigger, kiddo," She chuckled softly.

Nicky nodded, his attention moving to the frosting. Natasha quickly swiped some off the top, and he eagerly opened his mouth.

"Good?" She asked.

He gave an enthusiastic nod. "More, Mama."

She obliged, wiping more frosting onto her finger, and he giggled as he took it from her.

"Okay, you need a bath after this. Then we can play with your new toys," Natasha said.

Nicky paused a smudge of red frosting at the corner of his mouth. "Can we watch more videos of Mommy and my sister?"

"Yes, we can." She kissed his cheek, her heart twisting with pain and joy."Happy birthday, Nicky," She murmured, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. She reached for the phone, found the birthday video you'd taken in France, and played it for him.

"It was so nice to celebrate your birthday here, baby. Look at you. You're so big." Your voice sounded from the speakers.

Tears sprang to Natasha's eyes as she watched. She was doing the best she could, but nothing could replace you. It was only a matter of time before Nicky understood the situation fully.

"That's my sister," Nicky said excitedly as Stella stepped into the frame.

"Yes, that's your sister," Natasha agreed. "She's a good big sister."

"Where's Stella and Mommy?" He asked quietly, his tone hopeful.

Natasha's chest tightened. She'd told him many times that you were away, and she was working on bringing you home. It was a lie that grew harder to tell each time he asked. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up.

"They're away right now, Nicky," Natasha answered gently.

"How come they're not here?"

"Mommy and Stella are in another place," Natasha explained, brushing her hand over his hair. He really needed a haircut. "It's far away."

"Like a trip?"

"Sort of," She nodded, not sure how to continue.

"Are they coming home soon?"

"We're working on it," She said, swallowing hard.

"Can I play with Ollie now?" He asked.

"Sure, honey. He's been waiting for you."

Nicky scrambled from her lap, his small body moving across the room. The dog stood and stretched, shaking his fur before padding toward the toddler.

"Be careful, okay?" She warned him.

Nicky was already on the floor, his fingers tangled in the dog's fur. Natasha's eyes turned back to the video.

Natasha watched you scoop him into your arms, your laughter loud and carefree, his giggles infectious. Her heart twisted in her chest, aching. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered, her gaze turning toward Nicky. He was sprawled on the floor with Ollie, the two of them engaged in an intense game of tug of war.

She loved him enough for the both of you. 

********

The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and Natasha found herself lost in the whirlwind of motherhood and the unending search for answers. The ache in her heart was a constant reminder of what they had lost, but she held onto hope, even if it felt threadbare. This was year three.

The morning light streamed through the window as she sipped her coffee, the mug warming her hands. Today felt different, though—a change was in the air. She sensed it even before Steve arrived with his suitcase in hand, a determined look on his face.

“Hey, Nat,” he greeted her, his voice steady but soft.

“Hey,” she replied, setting her mug down. “You’re moving out?”

“Yeah, I found a place in Brooklyn.” His smile was filled with sadness, but he tried to mask it.

“Oh,” Natasha said, feeling a pang in her chest. Steve had been a steady presence, a support system when everything else felt chaotic. “Are you sure about this?”

“I need my own space,” he admitted, glancing around the suite that had become their makeshift home. “I think it’ll be good for me. For all of us. It's been three years since the snap."

Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat, her fingers tightening on her mug. Three years.

"And I...I can't stay here any longer, Nat," he continued, his gaze distant, as if he were seeing the past.

She understood. The compound held memories, good and bad, and for Steve, those memories were a constant reminder of his lost love. Tony and Pepper had announced their pregnancy shortly after she moved in and had gone lakeside with their newborn, Morgan. For the past few years, it's just been the three of them. It became routine to have Steve at lunch or dinner.

"I get it," Natasha nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

"But, hey," he added, trying for a more upbeat tone. "I'm not too far. I'll be back to visit. And I'm still working on finding a way to bring them back. We'll get them back, Nat."

"I know."

"And you're welcome at my place any time."

"Thanks, Steve," Natasha managed a small smile. "And thank you. For everything."

"It's what friends do," he shrugged, pulling her into a hug.

"Take care of yourself," she murmured.

"I will," he assured her. "And don't be a stranger, okay? My door is always open."

"I'll remember that," she gave a soft laugh.

Steve lingered a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Something else?" She prompted.

"No, no," Steve shook his head.

With that, he was gone.

**********

Natasha was truly alone now and she found herself stretched thin. Every answer she'd gotten only led back to square one. There was no getting you back. There was no coming back from this. Today was one of those days. Nicky was being particularly stubborn, a trait he had inherited from both her and you. He had spent the morning refusing to pick up his toys, ignoring her gentle reminders to tidy up.

“Nicky, please,” she said, her patience waning as she knelt beside him. “We need to clean up before we can play outside. You can’t keep leaving your toys all over the place.”

He looked up at her, his hazel eyes mirroring your defiance. “No! I wanna play with Ollie!”

Natasha felt frustration bubbling inside her. “You can play with Ollie after you clean up. That’s the rule,” she insisted, trying to maintain her composure.

Nicky scowled, his little fists balling up, and stomped his foot. “No!” he shouted, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t want to!”

The defiance ignited something deep within Natasha, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Nicky, I need you to listen to me. This isn’t just about toys; it’s about helping each other. We’re a team, remember?”

Her son shook his head, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. "I want my mommy!" he shouted, his lower lip trembling. "You're no fun."

"Well right now you're mommy's not here," Natasha swallowed. "I'm here and I'm telling you to pick up your toys."

"No," Nicky muttered, his stubborn streak on full display.

"Fine," Natasha snapped, pushing herself to her feet. "If you want to act like a baby, then I'll treat you like one."

She stalked away from him, grabbing a pillow from the sofa and dropping it on the floor.

"Go sit in time out," she ordered.

"No, Mama," Nicky whimpered.

"Time. Out."

"I don't want time out."

"It's either time out or the naughty step," She said firmly.

"No," he shouted, his tiny fist hitting the pillow and knocking it off. "No, no, no, no." He yelled.

"Dominic," Natasha's voice was sharp, her gaze hard. "Stop that right now. I am your mother and you will obey me."

"You're mean," He muttered, his cheeks flushed.

"You're the one being mean right now," she pointed out. "Now sit down and stay there until I say so."

"You don't tell me what to do," He screamed. "I want my other mommy, not you."

His expression remained resolute, and Natasha could feel her temper flaring. “You’re ruining my life!” she snapped before she could catch herself.

Nicky recoiled as if she had struck him, his eyes welling with tears, and for a moment Natasha thought he might apologize. But then he was crying, his tiny shoulders shaking, his face scrunched up with emotion.

Ollie let out a soft whine, nudging his head against Nicky's leg.

"Nicky," She breathed.

"You don't love me," He cried, his arms wrapped tightly around the dog.

"Nicky," Natasha repeated, moving to kneel beside him.

"You don't want me."

"Nicky, no," Natasha said softly, her heart breaking at the sound of his sobs.

"You wish I wasn't here."

"No, no, Nicky."

"I wanna go back to Mommy," He hiccuped, his tears still falling. Nevermind the fact that his memories of you were fleeting and few.

"Nicky, look at me," Natasha tried, her fingers gently tilting his chin up.

"No," He refused, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Please," she pleaded.

Nicky met her gaze, his eyes filled with tears and sadness.

"I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I was just frustrated. You can't say those things. That's not true," She shook her head.

"Then why?"

"Because," She started, her heart pounding in her chest. "Your mommy is gone and I'm trying so hard to bring her back. I'm sorry baby. Listen to me."

"You yelled," He accused.

"I know. I shouldn't have done that."

"My ears hurt."

"I'm sorry. Here," She pulled him onto her lap, her arms wrapping around him. "Mama's so sorry. Baby."

Nicky buried his face against her shoulder, his small hands clinging to her shirt. "Mama," He hiccuped, his fingers tangled in her shirt.

"Baby, listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," She sighed.

"You're not mad?" He mumbled.

"I'm not mad," She reassured him, kissing his head. "I'm so sorry. I promise you I'm trying. I'm doing everything I can. Okay?"

Nicky nodded.

"You know I love you so much, right?"

"Yes."

"And your mommy loves you. So much. She would be so proud of you. Okay?"

Nicky let out a shuddering breath, his fingers clutching her shirt.

"You're my boy," She murmured. "And I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe."

***********

The streets of New York City were eerily empty as Natasha walked along the sidewalks. It had been a long time since she’d ventured out on her own, without Nicky by her side. She had left him with Steve, knowing the six-year-old would be safe and entertained while she took a moment to breathe. The city felt both familiar and foreign, a blend of memories and shadows that lingered in the corners of her mind.

Though she’d tried to hold onto hope, there were days when it slipped through her fingers like sand. Natasha brushed a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly as she took in the skyline, the towering buildings standing as a testament to resilience—something she desperately needed to muster within herself.

Her feet carried her toward a small bar tucked away between two larger establishments, the neon sign flickering in the dim light. It seemed inviting, almost like a refuge from the overwhelming world outside. Natasha hesitated at the entrance, her fingers curling around the door handle, but then she pushed it open, her boots landing on the worn floorboards.

A handful of patrons occupied the tables, their heads bowed and voices hushed. No one seemed to notice her as she approached the bar, the bartender polishing a glass and humming softly to himself.

He glanced up as she sat down, a half smile playing on his lips.

"What can I get ya?"

"Just a beer," she replied.

"Coming right up."

The bartender grabbed a bottle and popped the cap off before sliding it toward her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a long swig.

He leaned closer, his eyes appraising her. "I don't mean to be nosy, but you look familiar."

Natasha tensed, her fingers gripping the bottle tighter.

"I knew it," he smiled. "You're an Avenger."

"Yeah," she nodded.

"What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Just needed a break," she admitted, her voice low.

"From?"

"Everything."

"Sounds rough," he commented.

"It's been a rough few years."

"Tell me about it," the bartender shook his head. "This whole snap thing has really shaken up the city."

"You can say that again," Natasha muttered, taking another sip of her beer.

Sensing that she needed to be alone he left her to her thoughts. As the bartender walked away, she glanced around the room, her gaze landing on a woman seated a few stools down. The woman was alone, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a book resting on the counter beside her.

"It's Harry Potter," The woman held up her book. "Dorky right?"

"Not at all," Natasha smiled.

"I'm Nora," the woman offered her hand.

"Natasha."

"You're an Avenger," she grinned.

"Guilty as charged."

"You guys are heroes."

"Thanks."

"How's that going?"

"Honestly, I've had better days," Natasha laughed bitterly.

“Is this seat taken?” Nora asked as she moved closer.

"All yours."

"So, what's an Avenger doing at my local dive bar?"

"Just trying to clear my head," Natasha answered.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Natasha took another swig of her beer, the alcohol burning her throat.

"Wanna talk about it?" Nora asked.

"There's not much to talk about," Natasha sighed. "My wife's gone. I'm raising our son on my own. The rest of the team has split up, and I have no idea what's happening."

"Oh, wow," Nora's brow furrowed. "That's heavy."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded.

"I'm sorry," Nora gave her a sympathetic smile.

"It is what it is," Natasha shrugged, downing the last of her beer.

"Here," Nora offered her a shot glass filled with amber liquid.

"I shouldn't," Natasha hesitated.

"You should. Trust me. It helps."

Natasha accepted the shot glass, swallowing the liquid in one gulp.

"I don't want to seem weird, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener."

"And if I didn't want you to listen?"

"Well, I can be there for other things too," Nora smirked.

Natasha met her gaze, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, you can."

"Are you busy tonight?"

"Not at all," Natasha laughed, her mood lifting.

"Wanna get out of here?" Nora suggested. "My apartment is down the street."

"Lead the way." She gestured, slapping a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Am I really doing this?” Natasha wondered silently, her thoughts racing. She hadn’t intended to meet someone tonight, let alone flirt with them, but something about Nora's easy demeanor and infectious laughter drew her in. It had been ages since Natasha had allowed herself to entertain thoughts of connection beyond her role as a mother and an Avenger. Was this just a fleeting moment of distraction, or could it be something more?

Nora led the way down the street, her long strides effortlessly navigating the sidewalk. Natasha followed closely, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Nora’s presence. “This way,” Nora called back, her voice light and inviting.

As they walked, Natasha couldn’t help but replay the evening in her mind. The shot had loosened her inhibitions, allowing her to share more than she had intended.

“Are you always this quiet?” Nora asked, glancing over at her. She took Natasha's hand in her own. A presumptuous move.

Natasha smiled, enjoying the feeling of Nora's hand in hers.

"I'm on the third floor," Nora narrated as they took the elevator to hr apartment.

The door opened into a cozy space, the lights dimmed and the scent of cinnamon lingered in the air.

"So this is my humble abode," Nora announced, her hand gesturing around the room.

"Nice place," Natasha commented, her gaze lingering on the bookshelf and the photographs decorating the walls.

"Make yourself comfortable," Nora invited, slipping her shoes off and tossing her jacket onto the armchair.

"Thanks," Natasha smiled, sinking into the sofa and resting her head against the cushion.

Nora settled beside her, a glass of wine in each hand.

"So, do you frequent that bar a lot?"

"More often than I'd like," Nora admitted. "But you didn't come all the way to my apartment to get to know me."

"No," Natasha agreed, taking a sip of her wine. "I didn't."

It's almost as if Nora instantly knew what she needed or assumed she did. She straddled Natasha's lap and moved to kiss her. Natasha turned her head.

"I'm sorry I just.." Natasha shook her head. Nora doesn't take offense. She simply nuzzled Natasha's neck. It's there Natasha allowed her to place a kiss.

"You smell so good," Nora murmured, her fingers brushing through Natasha's hair.

"Thanks," Natasha breathed.

Nora's lips brushed over her neck, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. Natasha leaned into the touch, her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Nora said softly.

"No," Natasha assured her. "You didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Natasha smiled.

Nora returned the smile, her fingers tracing patterns on Natasha's skin.

"You're beautiful," she murmured.

"So are you," Natasha replied, her fingers tangling in Nora's hair. Nora's kisses continued on her neck as her hands worked Natasha's belt buckle.

"Nora," Natasha gasped.

"Relax," Nora breathed.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"We're moving fast."

"Too fast?"

"Maybe," Natasha sighed.

"You can tell me to stop."

"No, no, it's okay," Natasha insisted. "I just...need a minute."

"Of course," Nora smiled, her fingers trailing along Natasha's jawline.

"You're not like other people I've met."

"How so?"

"You're..."

"Charming? Sexy? Funny?" Nora teased.

"I was going to say sweet," Natasha smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You miss your wife," Nora sighed.

"It's almost five years,"

"And you haven't been with anyone since."

"No, I haven't."

"You're lonely," Nora said, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah," Natasha admitted. "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

"It's fine," Nora assured her. "I understand."

"Thanks," Natasha said.

"Are you hungry?" Nora asked.

"Starving," Natasha replied.

"Good," Nora smiled, standing up and offering her hand. "I've got leftover pizza."

"Sounds perfect," Natasha laughed.

They ended up eating the pizza on the couch, their knees touching as they chatted about everything and nothing. All Natasha needed was a friend.

***************

Natasha sat on a bench, watching Nicky play. He was growing up fast, his hair now cascading past his shoulders, and he was lanky and tall for his age, nearing seven years old. It was hard to believe how quickly time had passed since the Snap, and that he was already older than Stella ever was.

Nicky dashed around, his laughter ringing out like music, as he chased after a group of pigeons. He had taken a liking to animals, a trait he had most definitely inherited from you, and was always eager to see whatever was running around the compound.

Natasha chuckled, her gaze fixed on her son.

"He's getting big," a familiar voice called out, making her turn.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Can I join you?" Steve asked, motioning to the empty space beside her.

"Of course," she scooted over.

"So how are you holding up?" He asked, settling down.

"I'm alright," Natasha replied.

"Just alright?"

"You know," she shrugged.

"It's getting easier, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Living without them."

"Steve," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just wanted to check in."

"No, it's fine," she waved off.

"I'm here if you need anything."

"I appreciate that," she smiled.

"You look happier," Steve observed.

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you do."

"I feel better," she admitted.

"Good," Steve smiled. "That's good."

"Mama, look," Nicky called out, showing her the pigeon perched on his arm.

"That's great, buddy," she smiled.

"I'm gonna name him George," Nicky declared.

"Okay," she laughed. "We're going to double wash you during bath time."

Nicky frowned, his nose scrunching up.

"It's true," she nodded. "You don't want George to give you a disease."

"Oh," he sighed. "Alright."

"I love you, baby."

"Love you too, Mama."

"Be careful," she reminded him.

"I will."

Nicky ran off again, the pigeon and Ollie following behind him.

"It's getting late," Natasha commented, glancing up at the darkening sky.

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

"Do you have to be anywhere?"

"No," Steve shook his head.

"Good, I'd like the company."

"Glad I can be of service," Steve laughed.

They watched in silence as Nicky played, the sky streaked with pink and purple hues. He was the only real memory she had of you. She'd cherish him forever.

---> next part

[daisymbin]

a little push - joshua hong

warnings: none except a tipsy joshua

pairings: joshua hong x reader

genre: drunken confession, friends to ???

wc: 1.3k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

the house party was buzzing with energy, laughter echoing in every corner. colorful lights flickered in sync with the music, casting a warm glow over the crowd. you weaved through groups of friends, feeling the infectious excitement in the air. but as you glanced around, your gaze landed on joshua, who was slumped in a quieter area, looking troubled. his usually bright demeanor was overshadowed by a cloud of concern as he stared into his drink.

something in your chest tightened at the sight of him like that. you had known joshua long enough to recognize when he was putting on a brave face. with a sense of determination, you made your way over, weaving through the dancing bodies until you reached him.

“hey buddy, what’s wrong?” you asked, kneeling beside him, hoping to break through whatever was weighing him down.

he squinted up at you, his expression a mix of confusion and sadness. “oh, hey… um. i’m not sure we’ve met,” he said, his voice slightly slurred.

“it’s okay,” you replied, forcing a smile despite the sudden pit in your stomach, you found him adorable, so you played along. “i just saw you looking a bit down and wanted to check in.”

“thanks, but it’s just… complicated.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead as if trying to erase the thoughts swirling in his mind. “don't tell anyone but i think…no im sure.. im sure i’m in love with my best friend, and it’s driving me crazy i dont know what to do.”

your heart raced at his confession, but you kept your expression neutral. you had always known he had strong feelings for someone, the boys always joked about it in front of you but even as his best friend, joshua was tight lipped, never telling you who it was, but hearing it out loud now especially from him hit differently. “really? that sounds tough. what’s stopping you from telling her?”

he leaned back, his hesitation palpable. “i don’t know. it’s risky. what if it ruins our friendship? what if she doesn’t feel the same? or worse, what if she’s in love with someone else?” he looked away, clearly grappling with the weight of his emotions.

you shifted a bit closer, sensing the turmoil within him. “those are valid concerns,” you said gently. “but keeping it to yourself can be just as risky. you might be missing out on something amazing.”

he let out a soft chuckle, tinged with bitterness. “yeah, maybe. but it’s easier to stay quiet than to take the chance and get hurt.”

“true,” you acknowledged. “but if you really care about her, wouldn’t you rather know the truth? it could be worth it.”

joshua looked at you, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “i just wish i knew how she felt. it would make things so much easier.”

“maybe you could start by showing her how much she means to you,” you suggested, your heart racing as you spoke. “small gestures, spending more time together. see how she reacts. you seem like a great guy, im sure she feels the same about you.”

he nodded slowly, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “that makes sense. but still, what if she doesn’t reciprocate? what if it ruins everything?”

you took a moment to think, searching for the right words. “if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know where you stand,” you encouraged softly. “but you won’t know unless you take that step. living in uncertainty can be harder than facing the truth, no matter what it is.”

joshua sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. “i guess you’re right. it’s better than just sitting around, worrying.”

there was a moment of silence between you, and you could see him weighing his options, his mind racing with possibilities. you could tell he was still hesitant, reluctant to fully open up to a stranger, even one who was clearly trying to help.

“you’re really insightful for someone i just met,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. “it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t directly involved.”

“i’m glad,” you said, feeling a little bittersweet knowing he still didn’t recognize you as his best friend. “just be brave. you’ve got this.”

he hesitated again, his expression contemplative. “it’s just… hard. what if i make everything awkward?”

“awkward moments can be part of growth,” you replied gently. “but they’re better than never trying at all.”

he took a deep breath, the weight of your conversation pressing on him. “you’re really pushing me to think about this, huh?”

“that’s the idea,” you said with a light laugh. “sometimes you need a little push to see things clearly.”

he looked at you, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of the unspoken connection between you. but then he shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. “i should probably go. i need to sort through this.”

“of course,” you said, giving him a gentle nod. “whatever you decide, just make sure it’s what you truly want.”

as he stood up, ready to leave, he paused, looking back at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “you really are a great friend, you know that?”

“thanks, joshua. i’m just here to help,” you replied, a bittersweet smile on your face.

he nodded, the gratitude in his eyes apparent. “i appreciate it. really. i’ll… i’ll think about what you said.”

as he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of longing in your chest. the party continued to pulse around you, but all you could think about was the possibilities ahead. would he take your advice? would he confess his feelings? you hoped he would, and that he would realize it was you he was meant to be with.

after a while, you found a spot on the couch, allowing yourself to relax a bit, but your mind was still racing. moments later, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you pulled it out to see a message from joshua. your heart skipped a beat as you opened it.

joshuji 🐰:

[02:47 AM] hey bunny, can we talk? well maybe tomorrow over lunch? I'm kinda hammered right now. but I've kinda been thinking about us a lot lately..I just…have something i need to get off my chest..

your breath caught in your throat as you read the message. you felt a wave of disbelief mixed with overwhelming happiness after all that hesitation in person.

of course, lunch at our favourite place?

you hit send, your heart pounding in your chest. moments felt like hours as you waited for his reply even as you were glancing over to him across the room. finally, your phone buzzed again.

joshuji 🐰:

[02:53 AM] yeah that would be nice. also, i really miss you. if its not too late, could you come pick me up?

you smiled as you read his message, the tension that had been building inside of you for so long finally releasing.

“hey handsome,” you said as you walked up to him, “you ready to go?” you don't think you've smiled this big in such a long time. “y/n! I missed you.” he said happily as he pulled you in closer for a hug, not caring that he was still sitting and you were standing. his head rested comfortably just below your chest as your hands come up, one against his cheek and the other patting his head gently as you played with his hair.

“you all good?” you asked yet again, “never been better. it feels so nice being so close to you. you're so warm.” he answers as he holds you impossible tighter. “come on, let's get you home, hm?”

“just 5 more minutes. let's just stay like this for 5 more minutes. I'm too comfortable. & I like having you close to me like this.” you wonder if this is him letting his feelings slip but you dont question it. despite the room full of people, you don't seem to notice anyone else & neither does he. “me too joshua, I like having you close to me like this.”

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Sixteen

This chapter was fun to write honestly, besides the angst, but we do get to talk about some of the problem's y/n is having, even if it's not all of them. That will come later, with some more persuasive talks from other members.

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Y/n's point of view after the events of last chapter, plus some sweet moments to make everything better wc: 2.4k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst/Suggestive warnings: panicking, realization of feelings, talks about emotions, feeling like an intruder, feeling like you don't belong, sad y/n, admitting to being a lil delulu (the good kind), smutty thoughts (like two/three lines about it, no actual sex here), Jongho being a lil shit, Wooyoung being Wooyoung, discussions about hiding feelings, Hongjoong maybe being a lil upset, masterlist

Y/n rushed into her new room, shutting the door behind her before sliding down to sit against it on the floor. She didn’t know how to process everything that had just happened, nor her own feelings that she had slowly started to realize. She couldn’t believe it took this to happen for her to realize her own feelings, or how she had felt about Ateez as a fan, to affect her this much now that she had become one of them.

She realized that her feelings more than likely were just superficial, only based on how she knew them through the eyes of a fan of the group, but it still was hard to deal with them because of how quickly her world has changed, but she didn’t want to make things weird for herself or the others. She sat there, trying to get her breathing under control while also decidedly ignoring the other thought that plagued her mind, as y/n rested her head against the door.

She wasn’t sure how long had passed when she heard a knock on her door. “Y/n-ah, are you in there?” She heard through the door, recognizing Yeosang’s voice.

Y/n didn’t answer him at first, only responding once the idol repeated his question. “What is it, Yeosang?” she asked him through the door.

“Are you okay? Can I come in?” He asked her, his voice soft.

She couldn’t find it in herself to answer him right away, knowing that if she answered him right then, she wouldn’t be able to hold back any tears. She was touched that he would come and check on her, though she wasn’t surprised considering every interaction she had had with the alpha up to this moment. He had been nothing but kind to her, and she was grateful for that.

She decided, after a moment of thinking, that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let Yeosang in. And so she climbed to her feet, before turning around and opening the door just a tiny bit, peeking around the door to find the alpha outside, as she opened the door to allow him entrance. She walked over to the bed that had been placed in the room, sitting down on it as Yeosang closed the door behind himself before walking over and sitting on the bed as well. He kept a bit of distance, letting y/n have her space. The omega was thankful for that, not up to being so close to him right now.

Yeosang broke the silence, “Why did you leave the living room so abruptly?” He questioned you.

“I felt like I was intruding,” you said, telling a partial truth.

“Intruding on what?” He said, trying to figure out why exactly y/n felt that way.

“On the moment between Hongjoong-oppa and Jongho,” she admitted, looking down at her hands.

“What exactly happened? I didn’t wake up until you jostled me awake,” Yeosang said, trying to get to the bottom of it all.

Y/n took a deep breath, still looking down, as she explained, “I woke up to find Hongjoong-oppa and Jongho kissing right next to me. I didn’t process what was going on at first, and then when I realized, I felt I was intruding on them, on their moment together.”

Yeosang finally understood, and now that she explained that, he knew at least somewhat how she was feeling. Because he had felt that way at times, early on in their idol days, not long after they had formed their pack. And he also knew that while fans speculated on their exact relationships with each other, they had been very determined to keep this side of their pack away from the public and their fans. So for y/n, this must have been a lot, on top of what had already gone on earlier in the day. And now he could help.

“If they didn’t want anyone to see them kissing, they wouldn’t have done it right next to you. And remember now, you’re a part of Ateez, so you’re one of us, and that means we’ll act like ourselves around you, not our idol selves. Hongjoong-hyung trusts you if he kissed Jongho-yah in front of you, even if you were asleep at the start. He knew you could have woken up at any moment, and he took that risk, because he trusts you,” Yeosang explained to her, reaching out to grab her hands gently, holding them like she was something precious.

“Y/n-ah,” he called out to her, trying to get the omega to look at him, “I know how you’re feeling right now.”

This caused her head to shoot up, looking right at the alpha. “You do?” She asked him.

The alpha nodded, “I do,” he said, looking at her straight in the eyes, “because I felt that way when Ateez first became a pack.”

“But everyone in the group adores you,” Y/n said, having a hard time reconciling that Yeosang felt that way.

“They do, but at the time, I felt like I was intruding on so many moments between the others, particularly Jongho with either Seonghwa or Hongjoong-hyungs, and Sannie and Wooyoungie. I somehow felt like I was the odd one out, the one intruding on moments they should have had alone,” he took a breath before continuing, “I felt like you had, because I hadn’t really found my place in the pack, and in the group. So it’s okay to feel like that, it’s valid to feel like that. But you will realize that you’ll be a part of those moments, and that as you find your own place in our crazy group, you’ll find that our members won’t treat you like you’re intruding.”

Yeosang squeezed her hands gently, trying to comfort and reassure her that it was okay. Before he could say anymore, someone knocked on the door.

“Y/n-ah, Sangie, can we come in?” San’s voice came through the door.

Yeosang looked at y/n, waiting for her decision, and when she nodded at him, he called out to the two betas to enter. They did, and when they saw the omega, they smiled sadly, seeing her troubles clearly spelled out on her face. They came to sit on the floor in front of where she and Yeosang were sitting on her bed, though they made sure to give her some distance, so as to not overcrowd her. That was the last thing they wanted to do. 

She tried to smile down at them, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. Yeosang’s words had helped calm her down, and comforted her, but she still wasn’t sure what to do with her feelings, those feelings from when she was just a fan and being delulu over the men in front of her. She had to get rid of them, there was no way around that. They were a fully mated pack, who were with each other, as she saw with Hongjoong and the maknae.

San reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away or tell him no, before he rested a hand on her knee. “Why are you still troubled? Did our Sangie not help?” He asked her, getting a yell and slap from the aforementioned alpha.

This got the omega to giggle, “Yeosang-ssi helped, I promise. I’m just still a bit troubled but I worry that you will think I’m weird for what I’m struggling with,” she explained to the trio.

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t have to, but I’ve heard lots of weird things from the hyungs, so I doubt anything you could say would be weirder than they already are,” Jongho said, getting pushback from the two older men.

She giggled yet again, the boys’ joking around getting her to loosen up once again. The trio looked at each other while she laughed, sharing happy looks that they were helping her feel better.

“Now, ya feel up to telling us what made you run out of the living room?” San asked her, as Yeosang gently squeezed her hands again.

She nodded, taking a deep breath before starting to talk. “I’m pretty sure you all know by now that I am, was? an Atiny before I became a part of Ateez. And well, I was definitely a delulu fan, but not sasaengy,” she explained, before mumbling the next part, “And I have had many thoughts about you all in romantic and not so romantic ways.”

“What did you say?” Jongho asked, hearing what she had said, but being a bit of a little shit to get her to say it again.

Y/n blushed before quickly rushing through her sentence again, and Jongho laughed, knowing she felt embarrassed about what she said, but she has no worries about it. They wouldn’t be mean about it, since they know fans feel this way, and it’s natural. Though, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t tease her about it.

“I didn’t understand you, could you say it slower, y/n-ah?” Yeosang asked her, not hearing her words despite sitting next to her.

She really didn’t want to repeat it a third time, she feared she’d combust if she had to. However, unluckily for her, or maybe luckily, Jongho decided to tell them what she said.

“She’s thought about fucking us, hyungs,” Jongho said, “and maybe kissing us too, before and after we fucked her.”

The omega’s head snapped to look at Jongho, mortification clear on her face as she processed what the maknae had said. On the other hand, San and Yeosang blushed at Jongho’s words, before San chuckled.

“You thought that we’d find you weird for having those kinds of thoughts?” San asked.

Y/n nodded, looking away from everyone now. She couldn’t bear to look at them.

“We wouldn’t laugh at you for feeling that way, we know fans feel and think like that.” Yeosang said, reassuring her that it’s valid to feel that way.

“What Sangie said. Plus, it’s only been a couple days, so it makes sense that those thoughts and feelings haven’t changed,” San continued where Yeosang left off.

“Though I wonder how you’ve thought of us fucking you,” Jongho said, his voice gaining a sultry tone that she wasn’t prepared for, as the beta leaned closer, his hands landing on her thighs, over her pants. Though to y/n, the feeling of his hands on her felt like a tiny time bomb, one tiny movement from him and it would spark a fire inside of her.

Before the youngest beta could do anything more, he was pulled back by San, who was scolding him for his actions.

“What do you think you’re doing, you little shit?” San said to Jongho, and that was the only thing she could make out, the rest being very fast-paced Korean, too fast for you to pick up on, at least right now.

“Let’s leave them alone, shall we?” Yeosang suggested, to which she nodded, allowing the alpha to lead her out of her room, reminding the two to not cause any damage, or they’d have to answer to Hongjoong.

Yeosang led her back down the hall to the living room, where they found the two tallest members and Wooyoung. The trio was cuddling on the couch, but Wooyoung leapt to his feet as he saw them come in.

“BABY OMEGA,” he shouted, nearly tackling her to the ground. 

Thankfully, Yeosang kept that from happening, though Wooyoung still clung to her like he hadn’t seen her in months, instead of maybe an hour. He checked her out for any injuries or anything else he could smell, but besides smelling that she was embarrassed, he couldn’t find anything physically wrong with her. Pulling her out of the alpha’s hold, he brought the both of them over to his spot between the two giant alphas.

“Cuddle us. Now.” The male omega demanded, though they both checked in with y/n that she was okay with it, before they did so. Their arms wrapped around the two omegas, keeping them in between the duo as the alphas let out calming scents, trying to temper Wooyoung’s excitement, knowing that it’s led to injuries before, both for the omega and others. 

It worked, as it most always did, and soon enough, the two omegas, both tired from the day’s activities, had once again fallen asleep. 

An hour or so later, Seonghwa and Hongjoong had ventured out into the living room, finding the five there, with San and Jongho still missing. The two omegas still sleeping peacefully between the large alphas, as the three others quietly chatted.

“Is she okay?” Seonghwa asked, garnering the trio’s attention.

Yeosang answered, “She’s okay, I believe. She explained why she ran out, and maybe why she was sad earlier,” he said, having been informed on the last part by the two other alphas, as he had missed that information.

“What happened?” Hongjoong spoke up, curious.

“She felt as if she was intruding on your and Jongho’s moment together, and then having some trouble reconciling her feelings as a fan, and feeling embarrassed about still having them even now,” Yeosang answered the pack alpha.

Hongjoong’s eyebrow’s furrowed, “That doesn’t make sense, well not fully. It makes sense for why she ran, but not for why she felt sad earlier. I think she’s holding something back, and I think we need to find out why,” he said, looking at Seonghwa while saying the last part.

Seonghwa nodded before replying, “But for now, let’s let her rest. She deserves it. And we can talk to her later, Joong-ah.”

“Fine,” Hongjoong said, before moving over to sit on the other side of Mingi, while Seonghwa took Yeosang’s place as the younger alpha stood up.

“I’m going to look for our betas, and find out what they’re up to,” he said, “I told them not to ruin y/n’s room before we left them.”

Yeosang disappeared down the hall, leaving the six of them alone in the living room, where silence quickly came down around them, as they relished in the peace and quiet. These moments were precious, and what was even more precious than that, was the two youngest omegas sleeping in each other’s embrace, smiles on their faces as they dreamed.

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[tortillamastersblog]

➶The Bet - Part 2 | Kate Bishop➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: angst

Summary: Being known as the quiet and reserved student, you mind your own business and stay out of people’s way.

Kate Bishop is the exact opposite. Outgoing, bubbly, and loud, she’s the definition of a popular girl, so it comes as a surprise when she asks you out on a random Thursday afternoon.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

After taking my headphones out, I unlock the front door of my apartment and step inside.

“Hey, are you making dinner?” I call out, taking off my running shoes. “It smells gre—EY!” I pull the damp dish towel that was just chucked at me off my face and glare at my roommate Riley. “What the hell?”

She’s standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. “You’ve been avoiding me for two days now, so, spill! What’s going on with you?”

I sigh and peel off my sweaty shirt, tossing it into the laundry room close by. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve just been busy studying.”

Riley raises an eyebrow and uncrosses her arms. “We’re both majoring in Chemistry, Y/N, and there aren’t any exams coming up, so talk.”

I chuckle softly and brush past her to see what she’s been up to in the kitchen. “I hate how well you know me.”

Simmering in a pot on the stove is a delicious smelling chili and I can’t help but grab a spoon to try some. Before I can lower the spoon into the pot though, Riley snatches it out of my hand.

“Nope. You don’t get to eat until you tell me what you’re trying to hide,” she scolds and I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking about how I’m going to handle this.

The reason I haven’t told her about Kate yet is because she’ll lecture me about why I shouldn’t have agreed to go out with her in the first place.

Riley knows me better than anyone and she’ll point out all the reasons why Kate and I won’t work, and I just don’t want to deal with all that when I’m only starting to get to know Kate.

We’ve gotten coffee every day since our first date two days ago and we have a dinner scheduled at her place tomorrow night.

We haven’t held hands, or kissed yet, but I can see us heading in that direction and I don’t want anyone to interfere. Especially not Riley even though she’s only trying to look out for me.

“Well. . .” I place my hand on the counter and trace the pattern of the marble with my finger. “I’ve been kind of going out with Kate Bishop and I didn’t tell you because I was scared you were going to judge me for it.”

Riley doesn’t say anything, so when I look up I’m surprised to find her looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. “Why would you think I’d judge you for that? I’ve been telling you to get yourself out there for a while now.”

She sounds genuinely hurt that I didn’t tell her which makes me feel somewhat guilty. “No, I know you would never judge me for dating, but I’m not just seeing anyone. This is Kate Bishop we’re talking about and—“

“Okay, yes, it is a little unusual that you’re going out with her of all people,” she admits, handing back my spoon so I can finally taste the chili, “but who am I to tell you what to do? Does she make you happy?”

I smile instinctively, thinking about the time I’ve spent with Kate so far. “She does.” I blush a little and smile softly. “She’s funny and kind, and I honestly don’t mind how bubbly she is. It’s actually quite endearing.”

I’m usually not a fan of loud and energetic people, but I don’t mind it when it comes to her.

“Oh my God.” Riley laughs and slaps me with another dish towel. “Look at you, you’re absolutely smitten with her!”

My blush intensifies and I take the towel away from her. “I am not!”

“Sure, you’re not.“ She cackles and I just roll my eyes, turning away to finally try the chili.

“This is great.” I nod in approval and turn back around to find Riley still grinning like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, shut up!“

“What?!” She shrugs. “I didn’t even say anything.”

I narrow my eyes. “Mhmm. But you wanted to, you little shit. . . I’m going to take a shower now.”

She laughs, but doesn’t say anything else, so I turn around and leave with a small smile on my face.

Even though she can be super annoying, she’s like a sister to me and I wouldn’t change her for the world.

I fidget with the tulips in my left hand and the bottle of wine in my right, waiting anxiously for Kate to open the door.

It’s five minutes to seven and I know I’m early because we agreed I’d be here at seven, but it’s better to be a little early than a little too late.

Riley told me to get Kate some real flowers this time rather than just a paper flower after I told her about our coffee date which is why I swung by a florist on the way here.

I didn’t want to get her roses because that’s just a little too on the nose for me, so the choice was between carnations and tulips. In the end, I went with the pink and purple tulips because I noticed purple is her favorite color.

“Y/N, hey!”

My head snaps up at the sound of Kate’s breathless voice and when my eyes land on her I can’t help but smile. She’s dressed casually, wearing jeans and a purple sweater and even though she’s trying to seem calm I can tell she’s a little breathless, probably because she had to rush to the door.

“Hi, you look nice.” I compliment after clearing my throat. Then I raise the bouquet of tulips and the bottle of wine, adding, “I come bearing gifts.”

That makes her laugh as she steps aside to let me into the apartment. “I told you not to bring anything.”

I smile at her and feel butterflies in my stomach when I notice her ears turning red. “I know, but it’s not polite to show up somewhere empty handed, so. . . These are for you.” I hold out the flowers once she’s closed the door behind us.

Kate’s eyes dart back and forth between me and the flowers before hesitantly reaching for them. “You got me flowers?” she whispers and I’m not sure why, but her voice is laced with disbelief and sorrow.

I frown and let her take them from me, trying to momentarily ignore how my hand tingles when her fingers brush against it. “I— Yeah, I thought you might like them, but if you don’t I can just—“

“No, no, no.” She shakes her head and looks at me with a pained smile. “I like them. They’re beautiful, it’s just. . . “

“It’s just. . .?” I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to go on, but she just studies me with a strange look in her eyes.

It’s almost as if she’s sad about something, but then she exhales shakily and puts on a smile. “Forget about it. They are beautiful. Thank you.”

What was that?! Did I do something wrong? I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Riley! She hates the flowers! Shit.

“Uh— Okay. . . You’re welcome, I guess,” I stammer, wishing the ground would just open up beneath me and swallow me whole.

Seemingly unaware of the sudden tension, Kate puts the flowers down on the dresser next to us before taking the wine out of my hands as well so it’s easier for me to take off my jacket.

“So, tell me what’s new. What have you been up to today?“ she asks casually while I take off my jacket.

Okay, I guess we’re moving on from whatever the hell that just was. . .

“Nothing much,” I say honestly. “I went for a run and helped my roommate Riley install some new bookshelves. What about you?”

Kate takes my jacket and puts it in the closet while I toe off my wet boots. It rained earlier today and even though it stopped a while ago, the streets are still wet and I don’t want to ruin her floors by keeping my shoes on.

“I had fencing practice this morning and then I hung out with Greer and Franny,” she says, picking up the tulips and handing me the bottle of wine. “They told me to say hi by the way.”

I smile at that and try not to combust when Kate takes a hold of my hand and pulls me into the living room.

I’ve never actually spoken to Greer and Franny, but I know they’re Kate’s friends and ever since she asked me out they greet me in the hallways with knowing smiles.

“Alright.” Kate stops in the kitchen and drops my hand to put the flowers into a vase. “I’m a horrible cook, so I thought we could order some dinner and then maybe watch a movie?”

“Sounds like a plan.” I smile and watch her grab a bottle opener from a drawer, “but I thought you invited me over so we could cook something together?”

That is exactly what she said when we made tonight’s plans and even though I’m fine with just ordering in, I want to know what’s changed, or why she asked to cook together in the first place.

Kate hands me the bottle opener and smiles sheepishly. “I know. I thought cooking together would be kind of cute and you agreed, but then I remembered I can’t cook after you’d already left and I didn’t want to change our plans again and—“

“Kate,” I say, my voice laced with amusement. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I just wanted to know.”

Worried blue eyes meet my own and when I smile again, she relaxes and pushes two empty wine glasses toward me. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I reassure her and open the wine before filling each of our glasses. “So, what did you have in mind? Pizza?”

She nods and grabs a takeout menu off the fridge. “Yeah, there’s this great place around the corner that makes the best pizza’s in the city. I know the owner and every time I order something he makes sure to put an extra helping of cheese on the pizza.“

I smile at how excited she looks and tell her to just order whatever she wants.

“Are you sure? I usually just get a cheese pizza. If that’s too boring though we can—“

Here she goes again, rambling like there’s no tomorrow.

I put my hand over her fidgeting one on the counter which makes her shut up immediately. I’ve never initiated a touch before and as soon as our eyes connect I can’t remember why.

“I told you, I’m fine with whatever, so if you want cheese pizza, order cheese pizza,” I say quietly without breaking eye contact.

It makes Kate gulp before she nods slowly. “Okay.” Her blue eyes dart between my own and for a split second they even drop to my lips.

Knowing it’s too early in the night for a kiss though, I take my hand back and lift my glass of wine. “Cheers?”

It takes a moment for Kate to recover, but once she’s snapped out of her trance she grabs her own wine and we clink glasses. “Cheers.”

We both take a sip and I watch how Kate’s eyes widen slightly at the taste of the wine as soon as it hits her tongue. She glances at the bottle before looking back at me with raised eyebrows. “How much did you pay for that bottle?” she asks.

I just shrug and take another sip before answering. “Nothing. It was a gift from my dad. It’s been collecting dust on my shelf ever since he died because there was never an occasion to open it until now.“

Kate chokes slightly and sets the glass down. Her eyes fill with the same strange emotion as before when I gave her the flowers and I don’t like it, not one bit.

Nevertheless, I ask her if she’s okay, but she just waves me off.

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” She doesn’t look at me though and picks up her phone and the takeout menu. “Why don’t you pick out a movie while I order dinner? I’m fine with whatever as long as it’s not a horror movie.“

I frown and watch her, but she refuses to meet my eyes, so I agree. “O-Okay.”

“My laptop is on the bed upstairs. The password is 1234,” she says, dialing the number of the restaurant.

Trying to lighten the mood again I joke and say, “That’s not a very secure password for someone whose family owns a security company,” but Kate doesn’t react the way she normally would.

She barely even smiles and I take that as my cue to just leave her alone for the time being.

What is going on? It seems like I keep saying the wrong thing. . .

I brush it off as best as I can and just climb the stairs up to the loft where I find Kate’s laptop on her bed. Not sure where she wants to watch the movie, I take a seat on the edge of the unmade bed and open her laptop.

I put in the password and open Netflix, scrolling through some movies while she orders the pizza downstairs.

“Pizza’s gonna be here in twenty minutes,” she says, coming up the stairs after hanging up. She’s acting like nothing happened again which is a little irritating, but I don’t want it to spoil our time together, so I let it slide. Again. “Have you picked a movie yet?”

I turn the computer and show her what I chose. “Is this okay?”

Kate beams and jumps on the bed. “Yes! I love Grown Ups! C’mere.” She pats the space beside her and I join her on the bed properly, leaning back against the headboard.

I’m about to start the movie, when Kate jumps to her feet again with an apologetic smile. “Hold on.”

She darts down the stairs and comes back up a couple of seconds later with our wine glasses and the bottle of wine in hand. She puts everything on the nightstand before climbing over me to her side of the bed.

It makes me hold my breath until she’s settled in next to me. “Ready?” I ask, my voice a little gruff.

Kate doesn’t notice the effect she has on me and nods before resting her head on my shoulder. “Yup.”

I press play and try to focus on the opening credits of the movie, but her head on my shoulder is making me nervous.

It’s a good kind of nervous, one I haven’t felt in a long time, but I’m nervous nonetheless and it doesn’t help when Kate, after ten minuets, brushes her fingers over the inside of my wrist.

I glance at her and see she’s focused on the movie, so I try to do the same, but then her touch drifts lower, across the palm of my hand until she slips her fingers between my own.

It makes my breath hitch, and Kate goes to pull her hand back, but I hold onto it and run my thumb over the back of her own.

Satisfied, she sighs quietly and leans against me and continues watching the movie.

I try to focus on the movie as well but all I can concentrate on is her hand in my own, her head on my shoulder, and the sound of her soft laugh every time something funny happens on screen.

I take note of how she smells, an intoxicating mix of expensive perfume and vanilla body wash, and admire the way some strands of her black hair have escaped her ponytail and are now framing her face.

She’s absolutely breathtaking and even though I’ve known she’s beautiful ever since I met her, I’ve never actually looked at her, like, really looked at her like this.

It’s only when Kate squeezes my hand that I realize I’ve been caught staring and I quickly look away, pretending to focus on the movie.

Seemingly not wanting to let it go though, Kate moves even closer and whispers, “Are you okay?”

“Mhmm.” I don’t dare to speak because I’m sure my voice would fail me right now if I tried. I can feel my neck heating up and force myself to keep staring at the laptop screen.

“You sure?” she whispers again and when I only nod in reply, she shifts closer and turns her head so I’m forced to look at her.

The intensity of her blue eyes in the low light makes my mouth go dry and I swallow harshly to get rid of the nervousness bubbling up in my throat.

“I’m sure,” I croak, but I’m anything but okay when her gaze, for the second time tonight, drops to my lips.

This is it. . .

I swallow again and let my own eyes dart down to her lips. “Can I—“ kiss you?

I don’t get to finish my question because the sound of the doorbell ringing cuts me off.

Kate and I jump apart and I blink rapidly to gather my thoughts while Kate scrambles over me to go downstairs and open the door.

Holy shit, we almost kissed! Kate Bishop almost kissed me?!

I run my fingers through my hair and close my eyes for a moment before grabbing my phone to distract myself.

Rye (7:17 PM)

How’s it going? Did she like the flowers?

Rye (7:23 PM)

Are you like making out? Is that why you haven’t answered me yet?

Rye (7:25 PM)

You guys are totally making out right now. I’m so jealous. I should ask Chad to come over. . .

I roll my eyes and smile at her messages before typing a quick response.

You (7:27 PM)

You’re such an idiot.

No, we’re not making out, we’re just watching a movie. Get your mind out of the gutter, pervert.

DON’T text Chad, Riley! That guy is a fuckboy who left you in tears the last time you saw him.

Riley reads my messages and immediately starts typing a response and because Kate’s still talking to the delivery guy downstairs, I don’t put my phone down just yet.

Rye (7:27 PM)

You’re so lame but I know you’re right. I’m not going to text him

Not because I don’t want to but because I don’t want you to hit him again

I roll my eyes, remembering how she couldn’t stop me from punching Chad in the face when he showed up at our apartment to get Riley back after cheating on her.

I’m usually not the confrontational type, I mean, I barely even speak to anyone except Riley, but after they broke up, Riley was devastated and I just had to do something when he showed up drunk and tried to push past me to get to her.

Rye (7:28 PM)

As for you and Kate though. . . Just kiss already!

I know you want to I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her ;)

You (7:28 PM)

Oookay, that’s enough. I’m putting my phone down now.

I’ll be home around ten.

DON’T TEXT CHAD!

I see Riley typing something else, but I turn off my phone before she hits send because I hear Kate making her way back up the stairs.

The tension from before is gone, but she still smiles shyly when our eyes connect.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask when she gets back on the bed with the pizza box in hand.

I guess we’re eating in bed. . .

I couldn’t deal with any crumbs in my own bed, but if Kate doesn’t mind, I won’t object.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” she says, opening the box and offering me a slice.

I raise an eyebrow and take it, making sure to eat over the box as much as possible to prevent too many crumbs from landing on the bed. “Kate—“

She shakes her head and takes a big bite of her own slice. “Nope, you brought flowers and expensive wine and you payed for all my coffees so far. The least I can do is pay for a pizza.” I go to object again, but she just shakes her head again and presses a finger to my lips. “Hush now. Let’s continue watching the movie.”

I nod dumbly, and absentmindedly touch my tingling lips when she takes her finger away to start the movie again.

We eat in silence, actually watching the movie until the pizza is gone and we’re both full. I take the box off her lap and put it on the ground next to the bed before grabbing my glass of wine and taking a sip.

“You want some, too?” I ask and when she nods I hand her her own glass after topping it off.

She smiles in thanks and takes a big sip, her eyes lingering on me a moment longer than necessary before she goes back to watching the movie.

All of a sudden, the tension is back and I once again struggle to focus on the movie. She is just too damn distracting and when her hand brushes against mine I jump slightly and down the rest of my wine.

Kate chuckles softly at my reaction and empties her own glass before placing it on the nightstand on her side of the bed.

Then, she does something that almost makes my heart flatline. She takes the laptop off my thighs and sets it on the bed next to her before throwing her leg over my hips and straddling my lap.

My eyes widen and I stare at her slack-jawed. The movie is now completely forgotten and all I can focus on is the weight of her on me and the way she sets her hands on my shoulders.

“Kate. . .” I say, my voice low and scratchy.

“Yes?” she smirks, obviously knowing exactly what kind of effect she has on me as she moves her hands to touch the side of my neck and the underside of my jaw.

Just kiss already!

Riley’s text flashes through my mind and I hesitantly place my hands on Kate’s thighs.

My breath is coming out in uneven bursts and it takes everything in me not to just lean up and brush my lips against hers.

“Can I—“ I clear my throat, transfixed by the blue eyes darting all over my face. “Can I kiss you?”

No turning back now.

Kate’s smirk turns into a shy smile and she nods, cupping my cheeks. “I thought you’d never ask,” she mumbles and I lean up, brushing my lips against hers.

For a second neither of us moves, but then Kate tentatively moves her lips against mine and my stomach fills with butterflies. I close my eyes and kiss her back, tasting the wine she had just a moment ago on her lips.

It’s thrilling and intoxicating and I can’t help but groan when she shifts on my lap and deepens the kiss by running her tongue over my bottom lip.

My grip on her thighs tightens and when she allows me to slip my tongue into her mouth, I wrap my arms around her lower back and pull her closer.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Kate pants against my mouth and moves one of her hands to the back of my neck to pull me even closer.

I just continue kissing her, not knowing what to respond to that, and delight in the way her breath hits my lips every now and then.

Kissing her is even better than I imagined and I feel a shiver run up my spine when she moans softly against my lips when my fingers dig into her lower back.

“Shit.” She curses softly when I trail my lips down her neck, biting softly every now and then before running my tongue over the affected skin.

I’m not planning on going any further than this because I’m not ready to take that step yet, but Kate seems to think otherwise because when I move up to kiss her lips again, her hands slide down my chest and she grabs a hold of the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up.

I break the kiss with furrowed eyebrows and grab her hands. “Wait, I-I can’t do this.”

Realizing her mistake, Kate pulls her hands back with a guilty look on her face. “Right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I-I got caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.”

I sigh and grab her hands again, lacing our fingers together. I’m not mad at her, not at all. It’s actually quite flattering that she wants to do more, but I’m just not ready yet. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, but. . . Let’s just take it slow, okay?”

She nods, embarrassed, and looks away, so I let go of one of her hands and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Kate, look at me.” I dip my head to catch her eye and smile when she finally looks at me. “It’s okay. We’re okay. I’m not mad, I swear. I like you, a lot—“ her lips twitch shyly and I don’t miss the way her ears turn red—“ and I want to go there with you eventually just. . . not now, okay?”

I squeeze her hand reassuringly and run my thumb over her cheek until she nods.

“Good, now. . . Where were we?” I smile cheekily and tilt my head up until I feel her breath on my lips, giving her the chance to initiate another kiss if she wants to.

Letting go of my hand so she can wrap her arms around my neck, Kate pecks my lips before resting her forehead against mine. “I like you too and. . . I know you told me not to apologize, but I am sorry. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable and I don’t mind waiting for you.”

I swallow thickly and press a kiss to the corner of her lips before hiding my face in the crook of her neck. My ex always used sex against me, guilting me into it to make herself feel better, so this kind of understanding makes me emotional. “Thank you.”

Kate holds me closer for a couple of minutes until her phone rings.

She pulls it put of her back pocket and glances at the screen. “That’s my mom,” she says with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, but I should answer. I told her not to call unless it was important.”

I nod and let her get off my lap, watching her go downstairs to answer the call after giving me another quick kiss.

Once she’s gone, I chuckle in disbelief and close my eyes.

She likes me. She kissed me. . .

I feel myself smiling at the memory of her lips on mine and open my eyes again to grab the laptop and pause the movie we completely forgot about.

As I go to pause it though, a message pops up in the upper right corner of the screen and I can’t help but read it.

Greer @FKG (8:01 PM)

So?! What’s happening, Kate? How’s the date going?

I blush at the message, realizing her phone is connected to her computer. It’s a little embarrassing that Kate’s friends know about us spending the evening together, but it’s not like we’re a secret, so I should have expected she’d tell them.

Franny @FKG (8:01 PM)

I bet it’s going well. Have you guys kissed yet?

My cheeks heat up even more, but then another message pops up and it makes my heart sink.

Greer @FKG (8:02 PM)

I sure hope so! I have a lot of money riding on this. Remember @Kate, if you hook up Franny owes both of us fifty bucks ;)

Franny @FKG (8:02 PM)

Fifty?! I thought we said twenty!

Greer @FKG (8:02 PM)

Nu-uh! We said twenty if they kiss on the first date and fifty if they hook up within a week.

I slam the laptop shut, not wanting to read any more and try to blink back the tears pricking my eyes.

Of course all of this was too good to be true. . . I mean, what could Kate Bishop possibly want from someone like me? I should have seen this coming when she asked me out.

I feel like a fool for not realizing that all of this was just a game to her and get off the bed just as she comes back up the stairs.

My hands are shaking and I feel sick, realizing that I have to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Maybe Riley should have judged me and told me it was a bad idea because I would have listened to her, but no, she just had to be supportive. . .

I don’t blame Riley, not really, because she thought I finally found someone who actually makes me happy. Hell, I thought I found someone who makes me happy, but as it turns out we both thought wrong.

“Can you believe it? My mom called because she wanted to ask me to join her for lunch tomorrow. I swear, I told her not to call unless. . .” Kate trails off when she notices the tears in my eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She lifts a hand to touch my cheek but I step back, wiping at a tear that managed to escape my eye.“Don’t touch me.” I hiss through gritted teeth, grabbing my phone off the nightstand.

Her eyes widen in surprise and she drops her hand again, her eyebrows furrowing. “Okay. . . Uh— What happened?”

I scoff and clench my jaw.

I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.

Sniffling slightly, I go to brush past her and leave, but she grabs my wrist even though I explicitly told her not to touch me.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where are you going?” she asks, her blue eyes full of worry.

“Let go.” My voice is dangerously low and when I couple it with a glare, Kate immediately lets go.

I watch as her worry gets replaced by confusion before finally stepping past her.

“Wait, where are you going?” she asks, daring to follow me down the stairs.

I make my way to the front door without answering and bend down to slip my shoes on.

I’m never going on a date again. I’ll just lock myself in my room for the rest of my life and die alone.

I get back up and open the closet to grab my jacket, only to freeze mid reach when Kate snaps at me.

“Hey!”

I turn around slowly and ball my hands into fists, seeing the immediate regret on Kate’s face when our eyes meet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap it’s just— One moment we were fine, kissing and cuddling and drinking wine, and the next you’re storming out without even telling me why. . .” She sounds and looks desperate, her voice low and pleading.

I blink away a new wave of tears and stop glaring at her to show her how I actually feel, how hurt I am by what she did. “Why? Because you and your friends made a fucking bet, that’s why!” I shout, my voice breaking. “Twenty dollars for kissing me on the first date and fifty for fucking me within the span of a week, right?”

Kate eyes widen and she steps back as though I just slapped her. “H-How—?“

Hot tears stream down my cheeks and I don’t even bother to wipe them away anymore.

She’s not even trying to deny it.

“It doesn’t matter how I know,” I cry, interrupting her. “You used me, Kate! Do you know how that makes me feel?! I thought you were sweet and that you genuinely liked me, so I stepped out of my comfort zone and said yes when you asked me out, but it turns out you’re just like everyone else. You’re selfish and cruel, and I regret not walking out on you when you approached me in the library four days ago.”

I take a shaky breath and force myself not to feel guilty when I see the regret and devastation on her face. She’s crying as well now, but even though I hate seeing her like this, I don’t apologize and I don’t move to comfort her.

She should be the one apologizing!

“Y/N. . .” Shee steps closer and lifts her hands as if to touch me, but I take a step back and shake my head.

“No, just. . .don’t.” I take my jacket out of the closet and put it on. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again, Kate. Good night.”

I open the front door with shaking hands and step outside, ignoring the sobs that echo down the hall as I make my way to the elevator.

So much for getting myself out there again. . .

_______________________________________________

Phew, that was a long one. Hope you guys enjoyed it! It was definitely fun to write.

I still don’t know how I’m going to end this little fic, but the third and last part will hopefully be out this same time next week.

I’m super busy studying at the moment, so it’s difficult to find the time and energy to write, but I’m trying my best.

Love,

Soph <3