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jpmarvel90 · 2 months ago

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Dont Belong Part 3

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 7175

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n's infection is hitting her hard and she's still struggling with her feelings on her parents. Thankfully, Yelena is there to help cheer her up and she brings along a surprise that might just make everything feel better!

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Y/n POV:

These last two days in the hospital have blurred together, a monotonous cycle of dull light and beeping machines. The weight of my infection drags on me, leaving me shivering one moment and sweating the next. I've spent far too much time staring at the ceiling, feeling trapped in this sterile room, yearning for the freedom of my life before the mission went sideways. The boredom is suffocating, and I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself with every passing hour.

I feel a constant gaze from my parents who rarely leave my side. It's strange to go from having them ignore you to being around all the time. Part of me feels like things were like they used to be when I was a full part of their family. The other part of me is screaming saying they don't mean it and will soon be gone again.

But today feels different, a whisper of hope fluttering in the air. I've been waiting for this moment, and when a familiar knock sounds at the door, my heart races with anticipation. "Can I come in?" Yelena's voice calls softly, and I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face at the sound of her.

"Of course!" I call back, the eagerness spilling over in my tone. I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding as I manage to prop myself up, using the button on the side of the bed to elevate myself.

The door swings open, and Yelena steps in, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Her golden hair catches the light, and I can see the telltale signs of sleepless nights etched under her eyes. "Y/n!" she breathes, rushing to my side, her voice trembling slightly as she takes my hand.

"Yelena! I'm so glad to see you." The words come out a little breathless, and I can't help the surge of emotion that washes over me. Just seeing her makes the room feel a little less confining, a little brighter.

"I can't believe you're awake," she says, her grip tightening around my fingers. "I was so scared. We all were. You had everyone worried sick." Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of my situation lifts just a bit. I don't think I've ever seen Yelena emotional like this before and it helps me realise how bad this whole situation is. She would never allow anyone to see her this vulnerable except for Mama.

"Hey, I'm okay. Well, sort of." I gesture weakly to the IV drip, the hospital bed, and the machines that surround me. "Just a little out of commission at the moment."

Yelena's smile is tentative but bright, yet it's overshadowed by the concern etched on her face. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You're my niece and I thought I would always be here to protect you." She shares honestly.

I give her hand a squeeze and share a warm smile when she finally looks up to me. "I can't be protected forever. Besides, I need you now. This recovery is going to be shit and I need you to help me when it gets too much." I reassure her and she nods. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to help you through it all. Stark has even set me up on the same floor as you. So, I'll be there whenever you need me." She explains, making my heart warm with the thought of seeing her for a while to come.

"What about the widows?" I ask, knowing how much that means to her. "I've already been able to help so many. Now I need to help you. The others can wait. Besides, Kate can do the research on where we need to go next." She replies. "Who's Kate?" I ask, surprised to hear that she is working with someone else.

"Just a stray that Clint found. She's annoying, but oddly fun to be around. I think you'd like her. I'm sure she'll be around at some point to say hi." She explains with a shrug.

As the initial shock of seeing me seems to fade, I can see the corners of Yelena's mouth twitching upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It's as if she's flipping a switch, her demeanour transforming from worried auntie to the playful, teasing friend I know and love.

"You know," she starts, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, "for someone who just woke up from a dramatic hospital nap, you look surprisingly like a zombie. I mean, I thought they had strict rules against bringing the undead into the hospital."

I let out a soft laugh, despite the ache in my chest. "Yeah, well, the food here isn't exactly helping my cause. I'm pretty sure I could survive off of those tasteless mushy meals for a week and still look better than this."

Yelena raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Mushy meals? I'd expect you to be on some gourmet diet, considering all the special treatments they give you. I'm starting to think you should at least get some ice cream as a post-surgery reward." She chuckles. "Now that's the kind of thinking I can get behind. Have a word with Tony yeah?" I reply, feeling my spirits lift. "Ice cream sounds amazing. But what are the odds of that happening here?"

"Zero. But I'm prepared for this. I'll break you out of this place and take you for ice cream. You just need to give me the signal, and I'll burst in through the window like a stealthy ninja." She mimics a dramatic leap and landing in mama's pose. "See, I'll even do my best poser impersonation!" She playfully teases and she now starts to pretend to scale the invisible walls of my hospital room, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "You can count on me, Y/n. Ice cream shall be yours!"

I chuckle, the image of Yelena performing an acrobatic escape making the heaviness of the past days lift a little more. "What flavour are we talking here? I hope it's not vanilla. I have standards, you know."

"Vanilla? Please! I was thinking more along the lines of double chocolate fudge with extra sprinkles. And maybe a side of cherry sauce because why not go big, right?" She shares her thoughts whilst taking the seat next to me again. Her hand resting over mine. "Now you're speaking my language," I respond, shaking my head in mock seriousness. "If I'm risking a hospital breakout, it better be worth it." I laugh.

Yelena sits back in her seat, her chest still rising and falling as she laughs at her own hilariousness. She then looks back up at me. "But seriously, let's plan this for when you're feeling better. I'm not above a hospital escape." Her grin is contagious, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing. "Deal. Just don't forget the sprinkles."

As our laughter fills the room, I realize how much I've missed this lightness, this camaraderie. It's comforting to think about having Yelena by my side as I navigate the uncertainty of recovery and family dynamics.

But beneath the playful banter, there's an unspoken understanding between us, a bond that allows me to express my fears without words. With Yelena around, I feel like I can face whatever comes next, armed with humour and the knowledge that I'm not alone in this fight.

"Just promise me one thing," I say, my voice turning more serious again. "Anything," she replies, her gaze earnest. "Don't let me give up on the ice cream party, okay? No matter what happens."

"Never! I'll be your ice cream guardian," she declares, puffing out her chest with mock pride. "We will have that party, and it will be legendary. I will personally ensure that you have the sprinkles of life!"

With that promise hanging in the air, I know I can count on her not just for ice cream but for so much more as I navigate this complicated recovery. Even amidst the challenges, I feel a renewed sense of strength.

Though the playful atmosphere soon disappears as Yelena looks at me with a hurt look. "You know," Yelena begins cautiously, glancing around the room as if making sure no one else can hear, "I've been really worried about you. Seeing you like this. It's been hard. I didn't expect to walk in and see my Y/n looking so weak."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the aftermath of a bullet wound," I respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone, but her expression remains sombre. "I mean it, Y/n," she says, her voice low. "I can handle all sorts of dangerous missions, but this... this was different. You're my niece. I've seen too many people get hurt, and it scares me to think about what could have happened if things went even more wrong."

"I know. I didn't want to worry you, but... it's not like I planned to get shot," I reply, my voice softening. "I was trying to do my best, and it went sideways."

"It's not your fault," Yelena reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. "But promise me you'll be careful. Don't rush back into missions. I can't go through this again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere yet. You've got me for a while longer," I say with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Her smile falters, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "You have to promise me you won't get hurt again. I mean it. You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know." The gravity of her words sinks in, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. "I thought I was doing well. I thought it was my chance to prove myself," I admit, my voice quieter now. "Prove yourself? You don't need to do that. You're already a part of this family," she insists, her voice firm but gentle.

But I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy, the bitter sting of doubt that lingers in the corners of my mind. "I don't feel like it," I confess, looking down at our hands intertwined. "Not after everything that's happened. My parents... I don't know. It's complicated." I begin tentatively, not sure how to express the turmoil inside me.

"They've hurt me for so long, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why they suddenly seem to care. It feels like. I don't know, like they're trying to make up for lost time. They've been... around. Too around, if you know what I mean. They've been acting all concerned, but it feels more like an obligation."

I've felt torn about this since I've woke up. They're around all the time and trying to do everything that can to help me. But all I can think about is how much they have hurt me and if they would ever be able to make up for their past actions.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "It's okay to be conflicted. They've done wrong by you, and you have every right to be angry. But if they're genuinely trying to change, maybe there's a chance for you to heal too." She suggests, similar to how Steve has these last two days.

"I don't want to forgive them just because they're here now. It feels disingenuous," I admit, frustration seeping into my voice. "I've been raised to believe that actions speak louder than words, and I need to see real change." I state irritated. "Then hold them to that standard," she urges, her voice steady. "Don't let them slide by just because they're your parents. You deserve more than that." She iterates.

"I guess I'm just afraid of being disappointed again," I whisper, feeling a shiver of vulnerability wash over me. It hurt so much when I slowly seemed to disappear from their lives. I don't think I could experience that again. "What if they go back to ignoring me once I'm healed? What's the point of this?" I share, tears stinging my eyes.

Yelena leans closer, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. "That's not fair to you. They hurt you, and it's okay to be angry about that. But you deserve to feel loved and cared for. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." "Stronger?" I scoff lightly, but inside I feel a flicker of hope. "I barely survived my first mission and ended up in a hospital bed. That doesn't feel strong."

"Strength isn't just about fighting, Y/n. It's about surviving, too. You survived, and you're still here. You're still fighting." Her voice softens, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears. I nod slowly, her words resonating with me. "You're right. I just don't want to get hurt like that again. I thought joining SHIELD would mean I'd finally be seen, but now... it feels like a mess."

Yelena shakes her head, frustration evident in her expression. "No. You're not a mess. You're human. They need to step up and show you that you matter, but that doesn't mean you have to accept their love without question. You get to set the boundaries. You get to decide what you want from them moving forward. But I do believe that you have to give them a chance to show you that they've changed." She shares, taking me by surprise.

"It was years Yelena. How can I move to just forgive them for everything that's happened? Just because they're here for my recovery, doesn't mean it makes up for everything that they've done." I raise my voice getting frustrated that no one seems to understand the depth of how much this has affected me.

She thinks for a moment before speaking up. "I know I can't understand the pain they caused you. When I heard about what they did to you, I was ready to kick both of their asses. But I've seen this determination in them. Especially Nat. I just don't want you to let the anger eat you alive. You deserve more than that. You deserve to heal, not just physically, but emotionally, too." Her words resonate deep within me. I can feel the weight of my resentment pressing against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. "It's just hard, Yelena. I don't know if I can trust them again. What if they just go back to how things were?"

"That's the risk, but it's also a chance for something better. Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for you all," she replies, her voice filled with hope. "I mean, how many people get a second chance to rewrite their story? You can make it count." She tries to reason with me. "Or I could just end up disappointed again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, no one said life was easy," she counters, leaning forward, her tone shifting to a playful challenge. "You've faced worse. You survived a bullet wound, for Christ's sake! How about you take that strength and channel it into something more positive? Like confronting your parents." She suggests. "Confront them?" I echo, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

"Yeah! You're a badass. You fought off those Hydra agents; you can fight for your own happiness." she encourages. "Don't let anyone else dictate your worth. Not your parents, not Hydra. No one."

"I'll think about it," I concede, knowing that deep down, she's right. Maybe facing my parents isn't just about them; it's about taking control of my own narrative, my own healing. "Good," Yelena replies, her smile brightening the room once more. "And remember, no matter what you decide, I'll be right here, cheering you on. We're in this together, ice cream and all."

As I gaze into her determined eyes, I feel the flicker of hope igniting within me. Yelena is right. I can't let the past dictate my future. Perhaps I can find a way to reclaim my voice, my choices. And with her by my side, I feel like I can face whatever comes next.

__________

The soft hum of the machines is a constant companion, a backdrop to the quiet conversation happening in the room. Mama and mom sit nearby, each offering their own version of silent support. Mama, with her usual calm demeanour, sits crossed legged in the chair near the foot of my bed. Her posture is relaxed, but her sharp eyes betray her constant vigilance. She notices everything, always has, and I can feel her observing me like she's looking for something beneath the surface. Mom on the other hand, has stationed herself at my side, like aways. She's less fussy, thankfully, but still has to be close, like I'm going to disappear if she's not.

Sometimes, I find the silence unbearable compared to their constant and sometimes suffocating fussing over me. I feel on edge, like they're waiting for me to talk to them. I think back to what Yelena said about confronting them and doing it on my terms. But I want to do it in the right frame of mind, and at the moment, this infection is still kicking my ass.

Mama breaks the silence as her well trained eyes watch me for a while. "How are you feeling Y/n?" She asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me, as though she's trying to catch me out if I say the wrong thing. "A bit better." I respond with a slight nod, my words carefully measured. I don't want to give too much away. Not about how I'm feeling and especially not about the swirl of doubt that's been growing inside of me since the incident.

"Are you sure? You're sweating." She points out, sitting up. Mom goes to reach for my forehead, but quickly retreats her hand. She's been trying really hard not to be too much and I'm grateful for that. I should have known that she could see straight through me and notice the discomfort I'm in. "Just a little." I admit. "Is there anything we can do? Would you like some water? Or we could change the quilt for a blanket if that would help?" Mom suggests.

I think for a moment before giving in, knowing that I am burning up a little too quickly. "The blanket would be better if that's ok." I respond, earning a warm smile from mom as she stands and moves to grab the blanket as mama takes the quilt and folds it up. "Better?" Mom asks as the thin blanket now rests over my legs. "Yes. Thank you." I quietly respond.

"You're being strong, but you don't have to be." Mom says, her voice soft but persuasive. Her green eyes watching me too closely. "We're here for you." She states. Something I've heard more these last few days than I have in my whole like.

I offer a tight smile. "I appreciate that." I reply, but there's something hollow in my words, something they both notice. I see it in the flicker of mama's eyes, in the slight frown mom tries to hide. They want me to let them in, to trust them. But I can't. No right now.

The knock on the door interrupts the thick atmosphere. As we all look to the door, a smile grows on my face as Yelena pushes open the door, bursting in to the room with her usual energy. Her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders as she strides in, a smirk on her lips. She's a welcome distraction from the unspoken suspicions swirling in my mind.

Behind her, there's someone new. A brunette with wide eyes and a slightly awkward smile follows in her wake, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It's clear she doesn't quite know what to do with them as she shifts nervously, standing next to Yelena like she's trying to figure out how to fit in. "This is Kate." Yelena says with a grin, motioning to the brunette with a flourish. "Oh, right. The annoying stray Clint picked up." I reply with a grin, my eyes flicking between Yelena and the new girl. I feel a small flutter of nerves in my chest, but I push it aside, trying to appear casual.

Kate gasps dramatically, placing her hand over her chest as if wounded. "Annoying stray? Really? Is that how Yelena described me?" She shoots Yelena a mocking glare, then turns to me with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Don't listen to her. I'm delightful, I promise." She smirks.

There is something instantly disarming about her. Her smile is infectious, and I find myself grinning back before I can stop myself. "I'll be the judge of that." I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Kate's laugh is light. "Well, I guess I better make a good impression then huh. I'm Kate. Nice to finally meet you."

As if she suddenly becomes aware of the other two people in the room, Kate suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she steps forward, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. "I, uh, thought some flowers might brighten up the place." She says her voice light but tinged with nervousness. "If you don't like them, I can... I don't know, take them back or something."

I can't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. There's something captivating about her, a clumsy sincerity that feels genuine. Like she's not trying to be anything other than who she is. If's refreshing, in contrast to the more guarded and calculated vibes in the room.

"No, no. They're nice. I love them." I say, accepting the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." I say gratefully. Mom steps in to help, taking the flowers from Kate and placing them on the beside table. She flashes Kate a smile, but I can't help but notice the way her eyes flick between me and Kate, like she's sizing up the interaction. Her protective nature is sweet, but right now it feels like an intrusion, like she's watching too closely.

Yelena of course, can't let the moment go without making it awkward. "Oh great. The two of you are already making goo-goo eyes at each other." She says with a snort, dropping herself into a chair next to mama with a dramatic sigh. "I should have seen this coming." She says to her sister. "Goo-goo eyes?" I sputter, my cheeks burning. "Yelena, we literally just met." Kate for her part, looks just as flustered, running a hand through her hair as she laughs awkwardly. "Yeah wow, not even five minutes in and I'm already being roasted. Thanks Yelena." Yelena has a mischievous grin as she gives Kate a thumbs up. "Hey, I call it like I see it." She shrugs.

I glance at Kate again, and despite the teasing, there's something about her that puts me at ease. Something feels unguarded in a way that I haven't felt around my parents lately. She seems real, no hidden motives, no unreadable layers. Just Kate, awkward and charming in her own way.

Mama raises an eyebrow at Yelena's comment but stays quiet, observing as always. Mom though let's out a soft chuckle, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks between Kate and me. "I think it's sweet." She says, but there's an undercurrent to her words. A subtle probing as if she's gauging how close I'm willing to let this new person get.

I shift uncomfortably in my bed, trying to shake off the unease. "Kate seems nice." I say, trying to keep things light. "But you don't need to start planning a wedding already." I joke, earning a loud laugh from Kate.

Yelena leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Well, you're already doing better than most people who meet Y/n. She doesn't usually warm up to strangers this fast."

"Yelena." I mutter, shooting her a look, but the playful banter is enough to make me feel a bit more like myself again. Even if the tension with my parents still lingers beneath the surface.

Mama exchanges a glance with mom, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They're both protective, maybe even a little suspicious of the new dynamic. I know they're trying to look out for me, but their watchful eyes feel too heavy right now and to be honest, they don't have the right to have any thoughts on this right now. They've barely been my parents for the last couple of years. They don't suddenly have a say in who I'm friends with.

"Well, at least you brought someone who isn't here to lecture me about being shot." I tease, giving Yelena a pointed look. Kate grins clearly relieved the conversation has shifted. "I'm just here for the heist planning." She smiles, her tone light. "Whatever Yelena has you roped into, I'm in." I join in the joke. Yelena perks up at that. "Oh, you have no idea what you've signed up for Bishop. This one here," she jerks her thumb at me, "has a history with getting into trouble."

Kate moves to take the seat next to me as both my parents decide to give us some space and grab some lunch. I'm grateful for them being able to read the room, but I notice the observant and narrow gaze of mama as she passes by Kate. I'm pretty sure I see Kate gulp a little which makes me laugh lightly.

"So," Kate asks, crossing her arms. "what's the plan for today? Ice cream, hospital jailbreak or maybe both?" She smiles, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. "Oh, Yelena's already promised me ice cream, but she keeps postponing the jailbreak." I tease, glancing over at Yelena who's pretending not to listen.

Kate lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Typical. She makes all these grand promises, and then when it comes time to actually execute..." Kate starts teasingly before Yelena speaks up. "I'm literally right here." She complains, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And for the record. I would have busted you out, but your mother threatened to remove all the mac and cheese from the building if I did." She admits with a child like huff.

"Still scared of mama huh?" I smirk, earning a harsh stare from my aunt. "No!" She defends loudly. "Well, maybe when it comes down to you." She admits quietly, making Kate and I laugh. "Well, well. I've finally discovered the one thing Yelena Belova is scared of." Kate torments Yelena. "Yeah, well don't forget that you're the one scared of me." Yelena points out giving her fiercest glare. Something that makes Kate shrink back into her seat. "Yep. You're right. Sorry." She apologises goofily, making me smile even wider.

There's a beat of silence, but it's not awkward. It's easy, comfortable, and I'm surprised at how quickly I've warmed up to Kate. She's sharp, funny and there's a confidence about her that makes me feel more at ease. I can tell she's someone who doesn't take life too seriously, but there's a genuine warmth underneath the sarcasm.

Yelena is watching us again, her arms crossed, and her eyebrow arched like she's trying to figure out how this is going to play out. "You know, I might actually enjoy watching this." She says, her voice laced with amusement. "You two are way too cute. It's like watching a rom-com in real time." She smirks

"Okay, enough of that." I say quickly, feeling my face begin to flush, this time not due to my infection! I glance to Kate who is grinning like she's in on some joke that I'm not, and I can't help but laugh. "Yelena, don't you have some Widow business to attend to?" I question hopefully. "Nope." She says cheerfully, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I'm on babysitting duty today." She smiles proudly whilst I just roll my eyes. Maybe I do want my parents back right now!

Kate leans closer to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Does she always talk like that, or is it just for us?" She questions. "Always." I whisper back, earning a glare from Yelena. "Alright, alright." Yelena says, pretending to be offended, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll give you two some space. Try not to flirt too much while I'm gone." She teases.

"And you," she stops in front of Kate, a stern look on her face. "If she so much as flinches you call the nurse. I will have your head if anything happens to her." She warns her lowly. Kate just nods, gulping at the threat. "P-promise." She stutters. "Good. Text me if you need anything. Now have fun being all awkward and flirty." She smirks as she saunters out of the room.

Suddenly, it's just the two of us, the room quieter but still filled with that easy, playful energy. I glance over at Kate, feeling a bit of awkwardness settle in. But it's the good kind that makes my heart race a little.

"So, what now?" I ask, trying to sound casual? Kate shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know. I mean, we could plot that jailbreak. Or maybe..." She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. "We could just hang out and get to know each other a little better." She suggests.

There's a warmth in her gaze, something that makes my heart flutter, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of excitement. Not just for the ice cream or the jokes, but the possibility of something new. Something good. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for it.

Nat's POV:

My sharp eyes have always picked up on the subtle shift in a person's demeanour, the tiniest details that others overlook. Right now, I'm studying Kate Bishop. She's awkward sure. A little too wide-eyed and jittery, holding onto those flowers like she's afraid they might combust. There's a clumsy sincerity to her that I can't decide if I trust yet. Y/n though... Y/n is smiling. Laughing even, and I haven't seen that kind of lightness in her face in far too long. Still, I remain cautious.

I watch as Y/n teases Kate, the easy flow of their banter rolling off Y/n's tongue without the weight that usually accompanies her words. It's almost as if she's forgotten, if only for a few minutes, about the turmoil she's been going through. And while I want that for her, there's a part of me that can't let go of my protective instincts. That part that wants to dig deeper into who Kate Bishop really is, figure out if she's worthy of my daughter's trust.

Because Y/n doesn't let people in easily. Wanda and I have made that even harder for her now. To be able to trust is a difficult thing. I don't want to see her hurt more than she currently is. Not after everything that I've caused.

Wanda's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as she steps up beside me, her arms crossed but her expression soft, watching the interaction with a gentler gaze than I have. "She looks happy." Wanda murmurs. Her voice has that quiet thoughtful tone that always means she's been observing the situation for longer than I realised.

I nod, though I don't take my eyes off of Y/n. "She does." I admit reluctantly. Wanda notices this and quickly makes up an excuse of going to get some lunch and we quickly exit the room. Probably much to Y/n's delight!

"You don't like it?" Wanda asks, her lips twitching into a small smile. She can read me too easily, knows exactly what I'm feeling even when I try to keep it to myself. We hover in the corridor outside of Y/n's room as I sigh. "I didn't say that." I glance towards my wife, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I know you." She chuckles softly, and it's a warm, comforting sound that cuts through the tension I've been holding in my chest. "Nat, you don't trust her yet." It's not a question, and I don't answer right away. Instead, I look back through the window into Y/n's room. My eyes falling to the pair of them. Y/n has leaned a little closer to Kate, her laughter soft, her smile genuine. Kate's making some grand gesture with her hands, her enthusiasm endearing in its awkwardness. Okay, I think. Maybe she's not so bad.

But still. "I just don't know her." I say finally, my voice low. Wanda hums in understanding, her gaze never leaving Y/n. "But look at her, Nat. She's the happiest we've seen her in a long while." She points out. I know she's right. Y/n hasn't had this kind of lightness in her eyes since the incident. Even in the days leading up to it, she was closed off, burdened by the trauma we had caused her. I couldn't do anything to help her, I couldn't fix what I had broken. And now here comes this Kate Bishop, breezing in like a ray of sunshine, making Y/n smile like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I sigh, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "Maybe." I admit after a pause, my voice quieter now, more reflective. "Maybe Kate is what Y/n needs right now." Wanda turns her head to look at me fully, a surprised look on her face, but she soon gives me a soft knowing smile. "That's not easy for you to say."

"No, it's not." I say honestly. "But I can't ignore how she's acting. It's good to see her like this." I glance to Yelena who's still grinning like a proud instigator of all this chaos. Y/n has her laughing too, which is aways a good sign. "And Kate, she's not what I expected." I share.

There's an awkward clumsiness about the girl sure. But underneath that, there's a kindness in her eyes, something genuine that makes me reconsider my initial assessment. She's not just some reckless kid, despite the reputation. She cares and that means something.

Wanda places a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. "It's ok to let your guard down a little." I chuckle under my breath at her words. "I don't think I'm wired that way, Wanda." I reply. "I know." She laughs softly. "But maybe you can try. Kate isn't here to hurt Y/n. She's just, being a friend. Maybe that's exactly what Y/n needs right now." I nod, though my instincts still bristle at the idea of lowering my walls completely. "You're right. But I'm not going to stop being protective. Not after we failed her so badly." My gaze hardens just a fraction. "I can't."

Wanda's expression softens further, understanding in her eyes. "No one's asking you to stop protecting her Nat. Just, give this a chance. What ever it might be." She pleads. I look at Y/n again. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen her in months. The tightness in her shoulders is gone, replaced by something lighter, freer. And I realise that I'm not the only one trying to protect her. Maybe, in her own way, Kate is too.

"I'll give it a chance." I mutter quietly. "But I'll be watching." Wanda smiles knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She says as both our gazes fall to our daughter. Just then, Kate says something that makes Y/n burst out laughing, the sound so full of life that it catches me off guard. My heart clenches that it's taken this long. That Wanda and I created an environment where she felt like she no longer belonged in this family.

I know it's going to take time for her to even consider forgiving us. But I know that it's important that she has other people around her that she can talk to and have fun with. If it's just Wanda and me she'll become completely closed off. Maybe being around Kate is exactly what she needs. It doesn't mean I'll let my guard down completely. Not yet. I will always protect her. That's what mother's do. Even if I haven't proven my right to that title in a long time.

_________

As Wanda and I step back into our home, the familiar chaos of our boys welcomes us like a warm embrace. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of wood polish from our recent cleaning efforts. I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and playful shouting emanating from the living room, and it brings a smile to my face despite the heaviness still clinging to my heart.

Tommy and Billy have been asking about their sister non-stop over the last few days, and every time, I see the worry deepen in their little faces. They've felt the weight of Y/n's absences as much as we have, maybe more.

"Hey, you two!" I call out, my voice breaking through the din. Almost immediately, Tommy and Billy come barrelling into the hallway, their faces lighting up like it's Christmas morning. They launch themselves at us, wrapping their arms around my waist and Wanda's legs in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It's a comforting noise, one that momentarily pulls me away from the weight of the world outside these walls.

"Mom! Mom! How's Y/n? Is she okay?" Tommy's voice rises with excitement, his wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety. I exchange a glance with Wanda, who stands beside me, her own expression tinged with a protective softness. It's a moment like this that reminds me just how much the boys adore their sister.

"She's still unwell, sweetheart," I say gently, kneeling down to meet Tommy's gaze at eye level. "But she's doing better than she was. She'll be home soon." I try to sound optimistic, but the knot in my stomach betrays me. I know how much they want to see Y/n, and how hard it's been for them to understand why she isn't here with us.

"Soon? Like tomorrow?" Billy asks, bouncing on his toes, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. There's a slight hopefulness in his voice, and it makes my heart ache, knowing they're so eager for good news. Wanda steps in beside me, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's going to need a few more days in the hospital, honey. She's got to rest and get better first." I watch the way Wanda's eyes soften when she speaks to the boys, how she has an innate ability to make even the hardest truths sound a little lighter.

"But her birthday is coming up!" Tommy exclaims suddenly, his expression shifting from concern to realization. "We have to make it special for her! Can we plan a perfect birthday for her in her hospital room?" His enthusiasm is infectious, and a flicker of warmth spreads in my chest at his determination. Billy nods vigorously, his face lighting up with ideas. "Yeah! We can decorate it and bring her cake! She'll love that!" The energy in the room shifts, and I can see both boys imagining the decorations they might hang, the cake they might bake, and the joy they hope to bring their sister.

"That's a great idea," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I watch them brainstorm. "But we need to wait until she's feeling a bit better, okay? We don't want to overwhelm her." Tommy frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "When can we see her?" His voice is earnest, full of longing. I can hear the worry tucked beneath his words, and it tugs at my heart. "Yeah, we want to see Y/n!" Billy adds, his expression mirroring his brother's eagerness.

Wanda glances at me, and I can feel the weight of our responsibilities bearing down. "We'll take you to see her in the morning," I promise, seeing their faces light up with hope. "But remember, she might be tired and need to rest, so we have to be gentle with her."

"Yay!" Tommy cheers, his voice ringing through the hallway, and Billy joins in, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Their joy is palpable, a reminder of the happiness that can still exist even amidst uncertainty and pain.

Just then, Steve steps out from the kitchen, having been quietly observing the boys from a distance. His presence brings a calmness to the chaos, and I find comfort in knowing he's here. "Hey, how are you two doing?" he asks, his eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene of our little family reunion.

"Mama and mom just told us that Y/n is coming home soon!" Tommy exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his hands flailing as he gestures animatedly.

"Yeah, and we're planning the best birthday for her ever!" Billy adds, his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed with energy.

"Sounds like you're all set for a celebration," Steve says with a smile, nodding approvingly. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms as he watches the boys with fondness. "I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything." He shoots us a knowing look, one that acknowledges the weight of what we're dealing with, before stepping back into the kitchen.

As Wanda and I stand there, our boys filled with excitable plans, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and dread. Gratitude for the moments of joy, the laughter that fills our home, and the love that binds us together. Sadness that our family isn't complete and dread for the challenges still ahead. We're still on shaky ground, still trying to piece together the remnants of our family after everything that's happened.

But for now, I push those worries aside. I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of our home, and look around at the smiling faces of my children. "Okay, let's start planning for this birthday celebration!" I suggest, my heart lifting at the idea of planning something special for Y/n.

"We need balloons. And streamers!" Tommy states excitedly, his eyes bright with ideas. "And cake!" Billy insists, his mouth already watering at the thought. "What kind should we get her?"

As we brainstorm, I can't help but smile. We'll take this one step at a time. Tomorrow, we'll bring the boys to see Y/n, and hopefully, we'll be one step closer to bringing her home where she belongs. Hopefully, she'll see that we plan to be the best parents to her and in time she'll forgive us. I feel a flicker of hope, ignited by the boys' excitement and determination to make their sister smile, to show her that she is loved and missed.

"Let's get started," I say, my voice full of warmth as I gather them into a huddle, my heart swelling with pride. Together, we can do this. Together, we can find a way to help Y/n heal, and maybe even begin to mend the cracks that have formed in our family.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist @oh-thats-cute @bstvst @waiqui @fxckmiup @kosmichs1 @theprincipality

#marvel fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x daughter #avengers #romanoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader

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agatharkn3ss · 2 months ago

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Agatha's info/rumours

I thought I'd pull together all the info we've been shown in ep.6 and add my interpretation to it. I still can't believe that Billy read these short bits and claimed he knew an "egregious" amount about Agatha.

As usual, biased towards Agathario, because I think they are heavily implying Agatha's connection to Death (I mean yes, the writers could just be trying to explain why the internet would be so invested in her identity, but still)

First of all - "333 partial results for Agatha Harkness Ancient Witch". I love yet another allusion to how Agatha is linked with number 3, making her the actual harbinger of doom (I explain this here).

It's interesting that the related questions are all about the immortality of the witches:

Are witches immortal?

Do real witches ever die?

How do you kill a witch?

How old is the oldest witch?

If we didn't have other super-old witches in the show, it would make me wonder if Agatha didn't make some sort of pact with Death (Rio), where she provides "bodies" to her in exchange for her long life. But as it is, we have Lilia as 450+ years old and Jen is also older than a century, but you don't see them trying to kill people (I think).

The very first search result is quite fun:

"The Macabre Wiki – a comprehensive encyclopaedia of all things that only come out after dark. Created by two blood witched from Salem"

No matter what, I will forever believe this is Agatha and Rio's page. (for reasons explained here)

The rest of the search results are not as exciting:

Witchy Resource – Ancient witches and ancient warlocks are not well documented traditionally and usually for good reason…

Witches and Aging – Apparently, witches are able to chose how they age and present themselves to humans. Some withes choose to stop again at a certain point staying roughly 30 years old visually for literally hundreds of years.

Dreadit – Salem Witch Trials – Recently I’ve been researching a ton on the SWT and not many people know this but there are reports of witches that actually survived burning and drowning

The Art of the Ancients – Learn about the secret art of witchcraft and the witches that have [...]

So this suggests Agatha specifically chose her look and age. Neat. Quite empowering really.

Also, another suggestion that some witches can be immortal and survive burning and drowning. I wonder if we will see this in the show - Agatha and Rio having absolute blast at mocking people who were trying to torture/kill Agatha, only to realise she wasn't feeling any pain, she would just raise and shout "Surprise witches!".

Then we go onto the Salem Witch Trials page. This pretty much confirms what we already know about them. I immediately clocked how all the handles only have green or purple colours... Coincidence? I've not tried to decipher the names, but if anyone has any suggestions, let me know!

witchygirlblack: Did any witches survive the Salem witch trials? Are they still alive? Where are they? Witches can live for hundreds of years, so the ones that survived the trials might still be out there [] witchkraft dreadit, you must know of some?

4thlevelwarlock: The Salemites, Evanora Harkness’s coven, were prominent in the area. I’ve heard rumours [...]the young children from the coven escaped

SamSamwitch: @4thlevelwarlock look familiar? [Agatha image link]

BoftheEast: be careful posting about her just saying

Then Billy takes the photo through reverse image search. I know these are tiny, inconsequential details but I still love them:

"Looky" sounds like a little nod to Lilia's "kooky"

The letters “o” have moons inside of them.

Each letter has different colour that seems to align with the witches – light blue (Jan - water trial?), purple (Agatha - spirit), yellow (Lilia - air), dark blue (Billy?), orange (Alice – fire)

This search then leads to a number of events that Agatha has been spotted at. Rather than pull out the quotes, I'm going to put the events in a chronological order and add relevant background info:

Salem Witch Trials (1692-1693) - this was a series of hearings and prosecutions of people accused of witchcraft in colonial Massachusetts. More than 200 people were accused. It was the deadliest witch hunt in the history of colonial North America. This is the time where Agatha's mother and her coven try to "punish" her for using "the darkest of magic". Her fingers weren't black, so she's unlikely to have had Darkhold back then. (btw the script for this suggests Agatha was 18 at the time, so she was born ~1675, making her ~351 years old in 2026)

The Eastern Seaboard - Although we don't know the exact dates, there are "unconfirmed reports of Agatha traveling the Eastern Seaboard". This could relate to various areas but this is likely just referring to the US East Coast. The Thirteen Colonies, which formed the United States in 1776 were located on this coast, playing an important role in the development of the United States.

The sinking of the Titanic (1912) - the British ocean liner sank as a result of striking an iceberg on her maiden voyage from Southampton, England, to New York City, US. Of the estimated 2,224 passengers and crew aboard, approximately 1,500 died. Agatha is listed as one of the survivors

The Hindenburg disaster (1937) - a German commercial passenger airship caught fire and was destroyed during its attempt to dock at Lakehurst, New Jersey, on its journey from Frankfurt, Germany. The accident caused 35 fatalities among the 97 people on board, and an additional fatality on the ground. The publicity shattered public confidence in the giant, passenger-carrying rigid airship and marked the abrupt end of the airship era. Again, Agatha is spotted as a woman who "survived the explosion then disappeared"

"Jolene" (1972-1973) - The headline states "Does this 1972 Surveillance photo of Dolly Parton show the real Jolene?" and Jac Schaeffer confirmed that yes, Agatha = Jolene. So I had some fun with this, because why not?! I wondered what Agatha's play would've been here. Is she truly after Dolly's "man" - if so, in what way? Or is she after Dolly herself? Note that although the article says 1972, later on we also see statement that Agatha was last seen in Nashville Tennessee, 1973. Now - that year in Nashville, Dolly not only recorded "Jolene" in May, but a month later she also recorded "I will always love you" - a song that is widely understood to be a goodbye song to her business partner because she decided to pursue solo career. In my head this is all a result of Agatha's influence, who showed Dolly her real power.

On that note, I don't think we would be far off assuming that as Agatha kept Dolly (or her man) her company, she would've actually come across Lorna Wu herself? We know it was similar time, because "The Ballad of the Witches Road" record was made in 1978. Alice mentions how she got her tattoo in Colorado as her mum was playing at the Red Rocks amphitheatre. Dolly Parton also performed at the Red Rocks in 1972 (the same year as the camera footage), so Agatha could've been there...

Finally, we get to the "brujapedia" - the encyclopaedia of witches. It's fun to speculate who could be running this page - the whole theme is black and white, with red highlights. There is also an image of a raven - as I discussed it before, it is a symbol of bridging the world of life and death. So it would be fun if it was Death herself maintaining it, as she would be the only one who would truly know who the real witches were. Also it would be a cool census of who is still remaining for her to "collect" their dues.

Another good spot from @chaotic-homoromantic is that "bruja" is a Spanish word for "witch", giving us another hint to Rio.

I couldn't really find any info on any other names other than the top one. Abigail Adams was a founder of the US, wife of John Adams, the second US president and mother of John Quincy Adams, the 6th US president. I'd like to think witches had some input back then.

Also interesting is how Agatha's surname is misspelled - it has two Ks. I wonder why that is - no way it's a mistake, seeing how much detail they've put into this. Maybe it's a subtle suggestion that this information came straight from Agatha herself or as a joke from someone who knows her, since she's known for using wrong words. (or it could just be a suggestion that all of the other names on this list are also misspelled, explaining why we can't find any info on them)

Then we get to some info about her - most of which I already collated into the timeline above. There is also a vague mention of Nicky: "Agatha Harkness. Son. Name unkown, rumours [...]"

But there are also some other bits - hilariously referred to as "FUN" facts:

Fun Facts:

Murdered her entire coven

Possesses succubus powers

Nick name is “witch killer!”

Only known survivor of The Witches Road

Folklore references: It is said certain children’s book make reference to Agatha [...]

Funny how the nickname absolutely includes the exclamation mark. I feel like maybe Jen was the one who submitted this info.

As for the children's book - I feel like it wouldn't be just a single story but more like the Grimm's Fairy Tales. Following Lilia's comment, Agatha probably was the template they used for "evil witches" - poisoning apples and stealing kids and eating children. It's not something she would deny anyway.

Now, the Succubus comment is interesting. In lore they are generally depicted as a sexual being - "a female demon or supernatural entity in folklores who appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity."

But I think in Agatha's case, things are different. Yes, she has the charisma and can probably seduce people quite easily (I mean, she probably seduced Death, didn't she?). But I don't think that's like a magical power. In fact, if it was, it think it would be really unfair to Agatha, erasing the fact that her character had to build and evolve around her experiences and the fact that she had to survive - "in a way that few do". So I think this "fun fact" could be partially coming from someone's snarky comment (Dolly Parton's?), who just wanted to take away Agatha's agency. Or fell for Agatha and then blamed it on her "powers" rather than admitting their own gullibility. Just like women over the centuries were accused of witchcraft and casting curses if things simply didn't go the way someone wanted.

Plus the way she goes about getting her magic from people is absolutely not seductive. She simply finds a way to annoy the heck out of the target!

But of course, that's not all there is to it, because on the other hand Agatha has her syphoning ability - now that could also be described as the "succubus powers" referred to above. In DnD succubus attacks using a "Deadly kiss", basically draining the essence of life and I feel like this is quite a good description:

"The kiss of a succubus is an echo of the emptiness that is the fiend’s longing for a corrupted soul. Likewise, the recipient of the fiend’s kiss gains no satisfaction from it, experiencing only pain and the profound emptiness that the fiend imparts. The kiss is nothing short of an attack, usually delivered as a final farewell before the fiend escapes."

In that magic/soul sucking way, she would have more parallels to Death, explaining their connection. More so, if Agatha can't control her powers - because Death does not really have much control either, she just has to do her job when the time comes.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #rio vidal #agatha all along spoilers #agathario #agatha x rio

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year ago

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Can we get the obey me boys(the brothers + dia, barbs, solomon, and simeon) reacting to mc having severe period cramps? Would they get all demon-y at the smell of blood?

Love your stuff btw!

Signed, a yandere junkie~

I'll do two for now 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Period | Yandere Obey Me

For those in the devildom having a draw for chaos and mortal pain it’s quite normal for blood to bring about a different kind of reaction. But to the surprise of no one period blood and the whole menstrual cycle is a complete bafflement to all who catch a whiff. Don’t worry though, you have the brother and your various friends. This surely won’t strike any of them to have an unusual streak in emotion and self-control, right?:

Lucifer

“It’s that time I’m suspecting?”

“Yes.”

“Understood rest easy, take your time to rest my dear.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Do you doubt my promise to keep you?”

One of the most casual about it

He absolutely has done research for this exact occasion

But nothing is like experience in taking care of you himself

As well as the compulsion that has him being just as reactive as you

“You seem a bit different today Lucifer…”

“Am I? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oooh is that a gift from (Y/n)--”

“dON’t ToUCh tHaT!”

“...”

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s with me this week.”

You’re not with him that’s what

For all the necessities he delivers he’s been keeping his distance

Taking the advice of the human care books he gave you your space

After all who better to deal with the human-female innerworkings than a human-female herself

But something feels wrong more than usual

And it only seems to stop when he returns to your side at the end of the day

“Perhaps the hormones that are at work in you create a…guardian of sorts…out of me.”

He doesn’t really understand, all he knows is that when you were preparing to go to RAD he frantically calmly decided you’d not be attending

His excuse reasoning? That he would hate for any lesser demon to feel what he’s feeling

That and he’d actually try to kill anyone who shows such similar inclination to protect you

“If anyone should stay to soothe you in this great time of need. I’m not above massacring any threats to you while you’re at your most vulnerable..”

Generally he’s quite tame

…compared to his brothers

Diavolo

“Hey (Y/n) why’d you run off like that I thought we were having a good time.”

“Diavolo!?”

“Oh…hey (Y/n) if you’re hurt it’s okay to tell us we have tons of things that help heal humans.”

“Ugh! No that’s not what’s happening here!”

“Don’t be embarrassed here i’ll help!”

“Aghghgh!!!! Barbatos! Barb–Ah! Don’t you dare!”

A scolding and prompt lesson from Barbatos is very much in order

For someone so adamant on urging the blending of their worlds he doesn’t really know about this side of humanity

And unfortunately he’s never been one for backseat learning

“(Y/n), we’ve spoken and Diavolo would like to propose a hands-on-lesson with you about your menstrual cycle.”

“Uhm what kind of lesson?”

“One that will require he familiarize himself with all aspects of this process. Something that would preferably stimulate the five senses.”

“....”

“....Lucifer!!!! Solomon!!!”

Even better it has to do with you

What better way to strengthen your bond by having to monitor you

Not only for your safety but for all of humanity

“Hey later on we should definitely watch that movie together!”

“Oh yeah I thin–”

“I’m sorry but she cannot!”

“What why not?”

“Because she’s coming with me! The best place for a woman on muenster cycle is with me at the royal palace.”

“Uhm that’s not tr-”

“Here I’ll take you now!”

He’s going to be hard to teach

But once you sit him down or snap at him one too many times

He’ll decide listening to you is the best course of action

In turn it will definitely build a relationship between you two

It may not be as romantic as he planned

But he’ll take it….for now

After all there’s one every month

“That was fun! I can’t wait until the next time!”

Because he’s actively testing for it he might find some demons and creatures that react to it

But he won’t actively experiment with you in danger

Because it’s just not a good look to brutally murder every other subject of his that has a reaction he doesn’t like

“Next month I’ll have to convince them to let me get a swab or whole container full that’d be really hot.”

#yandere obey me #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #obey me shall we date #yandere obey me lucifer #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere diavolo #yandere diavolo x reader #yandere obey me diavolo #yandere obey me shall we date

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ashwhowrites · 4 months ago

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Hi beautiful! I just wanted you to know I absolutely love your work! You are a phenomenal writer! I’m so excited that your request are back open! I was a curious cat wondering if I could request a best friend eddie Munson x shy reader, where she loves Star Trek next generation and has tickets to a con but none of the group will dress up with her and Eddie surprises her and does, maybe a kiss or sneaky smut! Hehe! I’m sorry if this is awkward turtle! 🐢

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️ disclaimer - I've never seen Star Trek NG so I goggled characters and I'm sorry if this is not accurate at all

Tickets to Con

Y/N had nerdy friends, she just tended to me a little more nerdy. Her friends enjoyed things but didn't like to dress up or do cosplay, but Y/N loved it. She found so much joy in putting together a costume and attending cons to show off and meet people just like her. The only thing she disliked was always going alone.

She hoped this year would be different. She got tickets to a Star Trek con and tickets only came in pairs. She did not want to waste her money and have no one join her. So she asked all her friends, even her best friend Eddie. And they all said no.

She was devastated but refused to let that ruin her experience. She enjoyed doing her thing, even if it was alone. She worked on her cosplay for days, creating the perfect Troi outfit. She had everything pinned down to perfection, her hair, makeup, and outfit.

Y/N felt excitement fill her once she walked into the building. She took in everyone's costumes, everyone seemed to be with someone and she felt a little sad none of her friends came with her. She walked around, running to her favorite tables for signed autographs and pictures.

She was having so much fun that she barely noticed an hour passed. From all the running around, she felt like she was sweating through her costume, so she stepped outside for fresh air.

"Sir, I've already told you, you cannot go in without a ticket!" The sound of security was the first thing she heard when she stepped out. She didn't want to be caught up in the mess so she turned her back.

"Well, SIR, I already told you my friend has it and she's inside!"

That voice sounded really familiar. She scrunched her eyebrows as she turned around. She swore she felt her jaw smack the concrete.

Her best friend was standing there fighting with security in a perfect Riker cosplay matching her.

"Eddie?" she called out in shock

He looked to see where her voice came from and smiled when she came into view.

"SEE THAT'S HER!" he yelled

The guy turned around, "Is he with you?" the poor guard looked over it

"Yes," Y/N laughed, handing the guy the ticket. Eddie stuck out his tongue at him as he made it into the building.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, excitedly throwing the boy into a bone-crushing hug.

"I couldn't let my favorite girl be here all alone," he said, accepting her hug.

She pulled away and Eddie swore he had never seen her smile so big. She shrugged off the way his words made her face burn. She always had a crush on Eddie but figured she was way too geeky for his taste.

"Well you are the best Riker I've seen here," Y/N said

"Yeah well, I am the best looking," Eddie shrugged with a teasing smirk

Y/N tried not to melt into the floor

"I did some research and apparently our two characters are sorta into each other, do we play as our characters or just dress as them? Because I am ready to fully commit to the romance," Eddie joked. Y/N hoped he couldn't hear how hard her heart was beating.

"PLAY!" she shouted, embarrassed as he laughed, "We definitely have to be into each other," she lied.

She felt like squeaking when his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"Let's do this, baby"

The event went amazing with Eddie by her side. They even won Best Couple cosplay and got a small trophy then their picture was taken. Y/N happily carried the trophy to her car, placing it gently in the backseat.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but damn that was fun!" Eddie said, chuckling as he leaned against her car. She laughed as she shut the backdoor and moved to her driver's door.

"Can I count on you for next time?" she asked, Eddie couldn't help but smile as she smiled.

"Yes," he said with no hesitation

"Thank you for coming. I know it's not your thing but it means a lot," she said, giving him another hug. But this one was more soft and close.

Eddie didn't say anything but hugged her back. He slowly pulled away but kept his arms wrapped around. She felt nervous under his stare and shivered at how close they were.

She watched as he leaned in, his eyes flicking from her eyes to her lips. She held her breath as his lips drew closer to hers, and then his lips landed on hers.

She gladly kissed him back, trying not to show how eager she was that this was finally happening. She imagined this almost every night and it was never as good as this. His lips were soft and warm, and the way he had control over her made her stomach flutter.

She stared as he pulled away, he gave one last small kiss to her lips before he removed his arms from her.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he said with a smile

"Goodnight," she breathed out in awe, watching as he walked away

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt@ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites

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chaostroberry1 · 6 months ago

Note

Hey how are you? I was wondering if you could have some headcanons for Hermes, Poseidon, Apollo and Loki with a goddess of sadness. She is the tallest of all the goddesses there, measuring almost three meters, she always has a melancholic aura and a quite sensitive, solitary and serious personality but she is kind to the most intimate people in her circle. She adores humanity and used to have a human husband before he tragically died. She is one of the strongest goddesses, when she cries she makes her sadness infect others, making them cry too and feel her pain (it is based on blue diamond from Steven Universe but I don't know if you know her. You don't need to add any more her if she is not to your taste). I'm sorry if it was a bit long, in advance please and thank you!

Oooh the pretty lady?? Im a bit familiar with her. I did my research on Google, I hope I didn't get anything wrong 😭 I'm also not sure if this is an "× reader" or not, so I'm very sorry. You may chat me again if it isn't what you asked for♥

°•Apollo+Hermes+Loki+Poseidon W a goddess of sadness!reader•°

Loki

- Loki and you are literally polar opposites. You both are so different, yet you both ended up being close to each other.

- he's very curious as to why you're so gloomy and emotional. But you are the goddess of sadness, you live up to your title. Literally.

- whenever he pulls pranks or Snickers at jokes, he's always looking towards you and pointing a finger at whoever was unlucky enough to be his target— thinking you'd instantly feel better.

- no, you actually got gloomier.

- but I think he'd take a liking to you. Opposites attract pretty well if I do say so myself. Atleast he has someone (not really) willing to listen to him.

- and about your height, I bet he'd use his floating ability to float towards your face, so he could talk to you more , and os that you don't have to bend down a little to hear him. And yes, he will ignore the fact that you are uncomfortable or not.

- he just yaps and talks about anything basically. Even if you are very quiet. you talk sometimes, only when you really feel like it.

- seeing how you can make people cry just because YOU are crying... its probably super amusing to him. Even if he's also there shedding tears.

-i bet he'd try to make you cry near the unbreakable ones like Thor, Poseidon, Odin, and so on. Just for the fun of it. A little experiment to make sure you're really that strong.

Apollo

- this guy is the perfect ladies man. He knows how to entertain you, he knows how to stop your thoughts from going elsewhere (or maybe stopping you from thinking about something sad. Or else everyone will get affected with your sadness plague.)

- even with your tall height, he still knows how to take care of you. He will find ways. Like when you visit his place, he will make sure you have enough room in the pool of water. He'd also dismiss the nymphs who are staring at your tall figure.

- if y'all are in a relationship, then he's willing to make you atleast a little bit happy. Seeing you cry for the first time was so heartbreaking to see, until it started happening more often.

- well, he learned to embrace it. And now, whenever you cry, he'll just come up to you with his arms open. (Like the "where my hug at?" Typa pose.) and he'll approach you slowly like--

"darling, darling, no need to cry. Let's look to the bright side!"

-- before he makes a tiny lil ball of light in his hands w his photokinesis. If not, he himself would probably blind someone with his light, just to make his statement clear to you. Lmao 😭

- he actually really likes it when you have to bend down a little so you can hear him better. Gives him a better look at your neck, or your chest. And maybe cus he likes the position you're in. (Perv ass)

Hermes

- he's already used to this. But I'm sure he'd find joy in watching your power do its thing to those around you. watching people—especially the most cold blooded gods—cry because of you, is incredible.

- he'd give you praises on your power, and how delightful it was to have such a goddess existing in the realm of divine beings. He'd serve you food and tea, ones that are extra big because of your size and height. Like I can imagine this man carrying a huge ass cup just for you to sip some tea or smth.

- I know you both gossip. He'd be whispering all the stuff he has to know on that day's tea, and you just quietly listen and softly giving your feedback. Y'all would do it in front of the other gods too lmao 😭😭

- your aura combined with his, it's a peculiar combo. But its certainly calming, with his personality and yours, it leaves a weird feeling in the room whenever you two are close.

- you both are pretty chill together tho.

- if you guys were in a relationship, he'd be so understanding and supportive of you. When you enter a battle, he'd probably be behind holding light sticks or something with that small smile he always has.

Poseidon

- now him. He likes your presence. Cus it reminds him a bit of hades. Not the crying part, but more of the calm demeanor you have. You are very soft spoken and it doesn't annoy him.

- you and hades are his only exceptions. Your aura is comforting in a way that soothes his nerves. He's also seen and even felt the sadness you've carried on your shoulders all those years after you beloved died, as well as the burden of other things.

- so he can quite understand you. It must really be difficult dealing with such feelings he learned that after he felt the pain you buried deep into your body when you cried.

- you both are also a peculiar duo combo. I just know most of the gods there ship you both. Loki was the one making the scenerios and fanfics (he's such an ass)

- Poseidon acts like he doesn't care, or is irritated. But in all reality, he doesn't seem to mind. He likes you a lot.

- he's pretty quick to slice someone who makes you cry. He just uses the excuse that he doesn't want to shed tears and all because showing weakness is weak af. But in reality he actually just doesn't want anyone fuckin w you.

- like imagine him saying that showing such weak emotions as a god is pathetic, before seeing you and quickly saying "unless it's completely necessary".

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vaultdwellerbarbie · 4 months ago

Text

Juno

javier 'javi' rivera/f!reader (5.2k wc)

summary it really didn't take yourself and javi very long to fall in love. or to decide to get married... or to decide that you wanted children. nothing wrong with doing things a little unconventionally.

content warnings smut, unsafe sex (w/ the intention to get pregnant), slight breeding kink i guess, vaginal fingering, oral sex

she has risen babygirl!!!!!! i'm like kinda half asleep as i'm posting this so i'm so sorry about that but i hope you enjoy this! yes, it's just as horny as the song. please listen to the song juno by sabrina carpenter.

At some point, a point that felt like an eternity ago at this point, going to Oklahoma was just supposed to be a small trip. Your friend Kate had let you know that she was going back to the place where she was raised on a whim, and you offered to go with her because you were working on a work project that would probably look a lot better if you actually knew what a tornado looked like in person, rather than just having researched them.

Kate had been apprehensive about the whole thing. She was dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma, she didn’t want to drag you into something like that. Plus, she knew that it could be a lot seeing a tornado for the first time, and she also knew that you really weren’t well versed in how to survive one. Sure, you’d researched them and you were interested in them, but no amount of research could give you that real world experience that someone who had experienced one had. She didn’t want you to be in danger. You, however, argued that you needing that real world experience was exactly why your work project was going to fail if you didn’t go with her.

Ultimately, your argument that you’d just find another way to experience one even if she wasn’t there was what made her decide that she would ask her friend Javi if it was okay. Now, you knew of Javi. You’d never met him, and you knew Kate wasn’t speaking to him because of what all of them had been through. Still, she’d shown you minimal pictures and videos of him, and you’d always found him attractive even though you kept that fact to yourself.

When he agreed, you both took the week to go to Oklahoma, and it was supposed to be just that: One week.

Technically, it was.

But, in another sense, it was the beginning of a lot more than one week once you realized that you were absolutely miserable back home.

There were a lot of factors in your decision to move to Oklahoma, and it wasn’t as though you just left everything behind and did it on a whim.

The first factor was just how much easier it felt to exist there, without the constant hustle and bustle. You didn’t feel like you were in as much of a continuous competition when you were there, especially since you had made quick friends with the people who you were surrounded by. It was nice to not feel like there was always someone there, waiting to one-up you and take away the promotion or praise that you were looking for. But, you also found that you weren’t just looking for praise. You were having genuine fun, and that was something that you hadn’t really had in a long time.

The second factor, and the most important one really, was Javi. As much as you wanted to discuss the non-male reasons why you wanted to change your entire life around - such as the fact that Kate didn’t want to go back to New York, and the fact that she was seemingly starting something new that you would love to be a part of - it was difficult for you when you found being around him so easy.

He was more attractive in person than he was in pictures, and you were pretty sure that was because you could actually see his freckles which was nice. But he was also nice to you. When he teased you, it was just him referring to you being from the North, or him making some comment about how scared you were about the tornado, or him just kind of acting very familiar with you. Certainly, he was acting the way that he was because he wanted you to feel more comfortable with him, and you did feel comfortable with him. More comfortable with him than you probably should have.

There was no debating that you fell hard and fast, but you still had a commitment to go back home. So even though you got attached, even though you gave him the tightest hug of your life when you both survived that massive tornado, even though you almost kissed him at the airport, and even though you promised to call him when you landed safely - you still went back even though you didn’t want to.

By the end of the week, you’d FaceTimed him at least as much as you did Kate, and by the second week, you wanted nothing more than to see him in person again. Truly, nothing seemed to matter more to you than being able to see Javi again, even though you had absolutely no idea when you were going to be able to do that.

It would be about two months before you finally had it in you (and had it in your bank account) to take Kate’s offer and stay at her farmhouse (really, it was her mom’s offer, but Kate was more than willing) until you found a place to stay. And, even if you didn’t find a place to stay, Kate’s mom seemed certain that something was going to come up (as it would so happen, both of them seemed intent on discussing your friendship with Javi and how it really didn’t seem like much of a friendship at all since you were both clearly enamored with each other).

The plan was simple, you surprised Javi when you got back. Kate and her mom picked you up, helped you settle, and the next day you exacted the plan. You claimed that you needed to send something to Javi in the mail, so you asked for his address. Happily, he provided the address. The next day, to add to the convoluted plan, you took an Uber to his address because you didn’t want him to recognize a familiar car. Of course, there were a few flaws.

You didn’t know if he was home, you didn’t want to freak him out, and you had to be dropped off at the end of the street because you didn’t want to startle him. Startling him really wasn’t something that you should have been worried about, because he lived in an apartment building it would seem (a much nicer one than the one that you could afford back in New York, but that didn’t surprise you). But, you still didn’t know if he was home, and you still didn’t want to freak him out. So, you were as gentle as you could when you knocked on the door, and you had confirmation that he was home from the way that his - clearly tired - voice shouted that he was on the way.

When you saw Javi, you really realized that you should have considered coming later in the day. Whether it was because he was in his pajamas, because he had adorable bedhead, or because the first words out of his mouth happened to be ‘I thought you were DoorDash’ - you definitely should have remembered that Javi wasn’t a morning person.

Regardless, the moment he actually figured out that you were standing in front of him he pulled you inside, and you pulled him into a hug, and you spent the rest of the day… well, making out, mainly.

Five months later, you’re both spending most of your time doing research. Storm season had calmed down, so you had some time in between to assess what it was that you were all going to be doing when it started up again. Since Javi was no longer working with Storm Par, and yourself, him, and Kate had begun working hand-in-hand with The Wranglers, things were going to be a bit different. The three of you were going to be added to a pre-existing team, you were going to be on camera, and Kate was going to be running her experiments to figure out if what she had done that day in El Reno had actually worked, or if it was the combination of the fire and the distance and every little other thing that had made that event so unique.

But when you’re not doing that, you’re mainly with Javi. You don’t live with him, you’re still living with Kate and her mom, but you’re with Javi more than you’re with anyone else. You spend most nights at his house, or he comes over for dinner with Kate and her mom, or you both go out somewhere. There are rare instances in which you’re not with Javi, and despite the constant stream of time that you spend together, you just can’t get enough of each other. It’s almost suffocating when you’re not with Javi, and he seems to feel the same way.

At least, you were pretty sure he did judging by the amount of texts that he had sent to you while you were on the way to his apartment this afternoon.

The moment your shoes were set into the shoe rack, he was locking the door and pressing his lips against yours. Your fingers found his hair, kissing him just as intently. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours, especially since it had been probably almost twenty-four entire hours since you had last kissed him. He tugged you closer by the hips, your hand that wasn’t in his hair moving to rest on his warm cheek.

Pulling away, your eyes were locked on his, moving down to look at those freckles that always made your stomach feel like it was in knots. The thing was, you just thought they were cute at first, but then you started wondering if his genes would really shine through and give a baby matching freckles, and then all you could really think about what how you would absolutely forget everything about working and settle down in the countryside with him and some freckled children. But… why were you thinking about that?

“I missed you.” You complained, a smile tugging at his lips as he pressed another chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I missed you too, I told you to spend the night.” He had told you to spend the night, but you simply didn’t have that option because yesterday was your laundry day and at least half of your laundry was at the place that you were actually, technically, living and not with Javi. Plus, you hated his dryer.

“Get a new dryer, and I won’t have to burden myself with leaving you.”

He hummed in response, moving away from you so he could move over to the couch - after all, he did invite you over to watch a movie. But, Javi took note of the way that you kept an arm securely around him, your head resting on his shoulder. You were always affectionate with each other, but tonight you just couldn’t shake the feeling that you wanted nothing other than Javi.

“You okay, baby?” He didn’t seem to really mind, though. His hand moved down to capture yours, sitting down with you and instantly opening his stance so you could cuddle up to him before he put a blanket over you.

“I’m good.” You replied, though the fact that you were halfway to sitting on him with your face resting just beside his was probably indication that you were not, in fact, good.

“You know, you’re free to stay here as long as you like.”

“I know that.”

“And you also know that I never get tired of you, right?” He replied, tilting your chin up so you were looking him in the eyes.

“Pretty sure that’s why everyone gets so annoyed with us.” Everyone did get rather annoyed with you both once in a while since you could get a little bit overly affectionate, but you had been working on toning that down. “But I know that, and you know I never get tired of you, either.”

Javi’s lips brushed against yours, his movements much more gentle than they had been earlier in the day. Something about the way that he kissed you, the way that he took his time to show you with his actions just how much he cared about you, made you feel like you were almost in a daze when he broke it. Javi didn’t go far, though, his forehead resting against yours as he looked at you.

“You should move in with me,” He started, watching your eyes widen slightly and rubbing his thumb along your jawline. “You spend most of your time here, we both hate being apart. You should just be here.”

“I’ve gotta tell you, Kate and her mom have been holding bets about how long it’s going to take for me to move in with you since I mentioned wanting to come to Oklahoma.” You replied, a smile covering your lips as you looked into his eyes. There was a softness in them, a love that you were certain that you could never get from anyone else. But you didn’t want it from anyone else, you only wanted Javi. “I’d love to move in with you.”

“Which one of them won?”

“I think Kate’s mom had under six months as her bet.”

Javi’s smile widened before he kissed you again, and somehow, you tried to press closer to him even though you were certain that it wasn’t possible to get any closer to him than you already were. But there was still that feeling in your gut that you just… you weren’t sure. You wanted him closer, you wanted him to never not be close, and you weren’t sure how you had become to attached to another person but you were certain that it was an attachment that was reciprocated by the man who was pressing his hand on the small of your back to keep your body pressed firmly against his.

“I love you so much, Javi.” You finally mumbled as you pulled away, his lips chasing yours for just a moment before he accepted the distance.

“I love you too, baby, so, so much.”

Javi brought you back into a kiss, following your lead as you moved to lay against the couch. He moved his arms so he was caging you in underneath him, his lips not parting from yours for a second as he kept you close to him. Technically, you were supposed to be here to watch a movie with him. But, for some reason that didn’t seem to be something that either of you were really planning on doing right now.

“Did you just come over to make out with me?” He teased, his hand pressed against your cheek as you looked up at him. A smile was still spread across his lips, and you were certain that your face matched his expression.

“Maybe a little.” You replied, trailing a hand over his arm. You didn’t just come over to make out with him, you came over to spend time with him. You always wanted to spend time with him, though. “We could be doing more than making out, you know.”

“At least let me cook you dinner first.”

“Javi, that could take hours.”

“So?”

He gave in when you started pouting at him, his lips pressed against yours again as his hand slipped under your shirt for just a moment. The feeling of his hand against you caused you to arch against him, but he quickly pulled away from you and stood up. His outstretched hand told you that he was going to bring you to the bedroom, a place that you were more than happy to accompany him to.

The thing was, you were both always very touchy with each other. The moment that you spent more than a few hours apart, you typically had to make up for it in some way. That way typically ended up being sex, if you were being honest, but it was still just some way for you to make up for the lost time. But, you’d both been a bit more reckless with sex as of recent. When you started sleeping with each other, which funnily enough somehow wasn’t even immediately, you were incredibly careful. There was always protection, even though you were taking a pill at the time. Recently, you’d both just kind of… forgotten… a lot of things. Javi was the one that drove you to the pharmacy to get your pills, but neither of you had really been reminding the other that you should probably been doing that. The last couple of times that you’d had sex, he had pulled out, but he certainly hadn’t used a condom.

Truthfully, you were probably both pretty conscious about what you were doing. You were just not willing to actually speak about what you were doing which was for sure not the correct way to be handling things. But, how could you talk about it? Neither of you planned on quitting your dangerous careers, and even though you were more used to office work and you honestly would be fine with doing something less strenuous for a little while since you were certain that the team needed some more behind the scenes people since you currently, truthfully, didn’t really have many - you also new that Javi was going to be at risk. Ever since what happened to him and Kate, the idea of not being in the action has been an issue for him. Were either of you comfortable with having a child under that pressure? Especially since you’d only been together for like… five months? Maybe. You weren’t sure. But talking about it would be a good thing, probably.

His hands against you distracted you from your disastrous train of thought, allowing him to pull the shirt that you were wearing up and over your head.

It struck you, as you looked at him, that you really didn’t want anyone other than him. You’d been on numerous failed dates, gotten to know people who ended up being into you and even tried to see if that was something that you were interested in. You were never interested in anyone more than you were interested in him, and you had certainly never remained so invested in someone for as long as you did with him.

“What’s that look on your face?” His tone was soft, his hand delicately running along your arm.

“I just really love you, I’ve never really felt this way about anyone else.”

His eyes were just as soft as his tone was, watching you as he pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t rushed and sloppy like the ones that you’d been having with him. He took his time, and happily accepted you wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him closer.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, either.” His admission was incredibly quiet, but you’d heard it since his forehead was pressed against yours. Some part of you wanted to have a deeper conversation about that, and you were certain that you would as soon as you left this room, but for the time being, you really just wanted to have him as close as possible. You had all the time in the world for talking, but right now you just kind of wanted to show him just how much you loved him.

Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, and Javi got the message and removed it. You’d always loved running your fingers along his skin, feeling him below your finger tips. One of the things that struck you about Javi was that he looked so cute, but he really did keep up his physique. You sure that had something to do with the line of work, considering the fact that he needed to be pretty in shape to be constantly outrunning tornadoes and since he had been in the military before that.

Javi didn’t waste much time in getting you on the bed, though you did stop him so you could quickly remove your pants - it was always easier than taking them off while you were in bed with him. He didn’t object to that, and decided that he would take things a step further and remove the bra that you were wearing as well. Before you could reach for his pants, he had his lips against your neck and you at the head on the bed.

Typically, Javi took a lot more time than he was taking right now, but he wasted very little time in removing he panties that were on your hips. His lips trailed down your body, your eyes locked on him as he moved to part your legs. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head that you just wanted him inside of you, that you didn’t want him to spend any more time not being inside of you, but that nagging feeling was pretty effectively silenced by the feeling of his tongue against your clit.

Javi always seemed to enjoy the feeling of your hands in his hair, and he always really did take his time - he liked to tease you, to warm you up before doing anything with you, mainly he just liked to make you needy; he really seemed to enjoy it when you begged for him. But right now, it was something entirely different. Maybe it was because you had agreed to move in with him, or maybe it was because you both knew that you were going to have a long conversation about things later, but all you knew was that he was being a lot quicker than he typically would be in a situation like this.

That’s not to say that you were complaining, because you were thoroughly enjoying the way that he had two fingers pressed inside of you, his lips wrapped around your clit and his eyes periodically glancing up at you just to make sure that you were definitely enjoying yourself. He was a giving lover, you knew that from the moment that you started doing this with him. But, right now it just seemed like his sole motivation in life was making sure that you felt pleasure. Mainly, though, you were pretty sure it was showing you how much he cared about you.

His fingers curled a bit inside of you, pressing against spot that made eyes fingers tighten in his soft hair. He knew how to bring you to the brink just as quickly as he brought you into his room. But right now, all you could really think about was how good he was making you feel, how good he always made you feel. How it felt when he made a slight noise against you, the reverberations sending shockwaves through - a reminder of who it was, and a reminder of just what kind of noises that you were going to hear coming out of him in just a few moments.

Ultimately, it didn’t take you very for your cunt to squeeze his fingers, for your orgasm to wash over you like it always did when you were with Javi. You always felt on top of the world, partly because you were convinced that he was the most beautiful man who you had ever seen. But, also because he really did have a way of playing your body like he was a genuine professional at pleasing you specifically.

As you came down from your high, Javi slowly crawled up the bed to you. At some point, a point in which you must have not been paying very much attention, Javi had removed the rest of the clothing that kept you from seeing him fully. He let your hands trace his warm skin, his face level with yours and his curly hair hanging slightly in front of his face. His was a sight to behold, and sometimes you weren’t so sure how you got so lucky to be with him in the first place. You really couldn’t get enough of Javi, and you were certain that he knew that.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” His voice was gentle, he did try to ask for your permission each time he chose not to. Typically, the only times you didn’t talk about it were when you were both desperate and in a time-crunch.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” You replied, not really thinking about what you were saying until it had come out of your mouth.

Javi’s eyes widened slightly, but a smile covered his lips as he looked down at you. “Oh, I can do that.”

Javi pushed into you rather quickly, moving his head down so he could bring you into a bruising kiss. Your body arched into his, the warmth of his chest pressed against yours made you sigh. You loved having this close, you wanted to have him this close forever. You loved the way that he felt inside of you, the way that he fucked into you like he’d never have the opportunity to do so again, even though you were both well-aware that you were going to do this over and over again for as long as you possibly could. It wasn’t like you had a shortage of sex in your relationship, but it also certainly wasn’t the only thing that you had in your relationship.

Javi followed your lead as you softened the kiss, our fingers tangling in the back of his hair to keep him close. You couldn’t help but think about how much you loved him, how much more you loved him than you’d ever loved anyone else. It was honestly slightly concerning just how much you loved him, because you weren’t sure if it was even possible before him. But you knew that he felt the same way, and a large part of you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Javi?”

“Mhm?”

“You should keep doing it inside of me.”

His breath stuttered for a second, but his hips didn’t. You could feel his hand squeezing your hip, the way that he seemingly started pounding into you harder than he was before. There was a slight overwhelming quality to it, but it was overwhelming in the best way possible. He felt so good, and he always hit that spot inside of you over and over again as though your bodies were made to be together.

“I-If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want something from me.”

“Yeah, your cum.”

“Mhm. Something more, though. Something… around here?” He trailed a hand to your stomach, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him making him let out a particularly vulgar moan following by a grin on his lips. “You want me to knock you up, hm? Is that what you want?”

“Please-” Your request came out as more of a whine, your eyes locked on his for just a moment but trailing down his face. A baby with his freckles was all you could really think about, a life with him. Some part of it was about possessiveness, you wanted him to mark his territory, and you wanted to mark yours. To be with him, and he clearly wanted the same thing from how his forehead fell against yours as he brought his hand down from your stomach to trace circles around your clit.

“Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want.” He always got a bit more vulgar with his language as he got closer, but he was always honest - Javi hadn’t done anything dishonest in the entire time that you’d known him once he stopped working with Storm Par. “Gonna put a ring on that fucking finger, you know that?”

That was what sent you over the edge, your brain turning into mush as you reached your peak. Javi wasn’t close behind, his hips stuttering as the feeling of his orgasm filling you made you let out a series of unintelligible words. You’d never felt fuller, but you’d also never felt better. The idea of being with him forever was definitely more than an idea, at this point, it just felt like a promise. But you wanted that with him, you wanted it with him more than anything you’d ever wanted before.

When you had both come down from your high’s, Javi took the time to push his come back inside of you with his fingers, a whine leaving your throat upon feeling the slight overstimulation.

It didn’t take you both very long to clean up and get back into the couch, the couch where you had started to begin with. But now, he just had you wrapped up with him in a blanket. The sound from the television was definitely hitting your ears, but it was going in one and out the other. All you could really think about was Javi, about what had just transpired - mainly, about how you didn’t regret any of it.

“Do you really want to get pregnant?”

“Do you really want to put a ring on my finger?”

“That wasn’t how I meant to ask you.” He replied, his voice soft. He almost seemed embarrassed that it had come out that way. “If it’s alright with you, I want to wait to ask you for a little bit, just because I had a plan that… you deserve. You deserve a real engagement story. To, you know, tell our kids. Can’t really tell them that I proposed during sex.”

Just the idea of sitting around telling that kind of story with children, your children, made your heart feel a bit warm. “You know, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted that kind of life before I met you.” Your head was tilted up to fact him, the movie forgotten. “But I do, even if I have to take a break from the field.”

“And won’t you be worried about me?” These were all things that you needed to talk about, things that you probably should have talked about before you just decided to go ahead an do it.

“I’m going to be worried about you anyway, Javi.” You replied, moving up so your head was resting in between his shoulder and his jaw. He simply held you tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “But, yes, I was serious. I think a kid with your freckles would be just about the cutest thing.”

You could tell that made him a little sheepish from the way that his skin heated up, and it definitely worsened it when you moved to press a kiss to his cheek. But, he was only sheepish from the compliment, not from the nature of what you were saying to him.

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’d love to see a mini-you running around.” He replied, resting his chin on your head as he turned back to watch the movie.

There were some logistical things to work out. Things regarding work, things regarding maybe getting married before having a baby just so it didn’t look like you were having a shotgun wedding. You knew that you were going to have to probably move into a house together at some point, rather than an apartment with only one bedroom. Those issues were going to become more pressing as time carried on, but for the time being, you both knew that what you wanted was either other - that all you truly wanted was each other and a life together. That was all you truly wanted - or needed - to worry about for the time being.

#twisters x reader #twisters fanfiction #anthony ramos x reader #javi rivera x reader #javi x reader

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dreamerinthemoonlight · 8 months ago

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Love and Deepspace Guys with an S/O that Craves Affection

Original Ask:

੭ ᐕ)੭*⁾⁾hii! i just wanted to say that i lov your works, especially the love and deepspace hcs, and i wanted to request the Love and deepspace boys with a reader who craves attention and love because they never got it from their family.

thxx have a wonderful dayy!

CW: none? Maybe hurt/comfort, gn!reader

A/N: hoenstly, this one was a little rougher to write. Not that I mind, but I'm fairly familiar with the feeling, and dredging up old BS is never fun. That said, I like imagining our boys in these kinds of situations. It's very theraputic

Requests are OPEN

Rafayel

Honestly, I think of the boys, he's the person who would have the hardest time

It's not that he's not affectionate, but part of his personality is that indirect, teasing method of communication

In this particular situation, I feel like you would need a very direct form of affection

I do think fish boy would be very willing to I've that affection, especially in a physical form. He seems like the sort who would really enjoy cuddles, but getting praise and affection directly is not going to be as easy

If you're direct about your needs, however, he will do his best. He doesn't want to alienate you and he really does want to give you the best he can

On the other hand, 100% expect him to give your family no respect whatsoever. Raf is totally willing to be rude and even more aloof than he is normally and he may very well not even give them the time of day

Your family wants to visit? Nah. He's just going to recommend a visit to the beach instead. If you are, somehow, on good terms with your parents he's going to take a lot of persuading to get into the same room, much less be cordial. Granted, it's hard enough to get him to consider a social engagement to start with, so that's not really a deviation from normal behavior

Xavier

Sweet, sweet, sleepy Xavi is the exact opposite of Raf. He is amazing at this, in part because affection comes very easy to him--at least after you get together

He is super fond of cuddles and time spent together and anything like that, so giving it is a natural extension of that

I will say, he's not as verbally expressive (it's kinda hard when he sleeps so much) but given that his favorite pillow is probably you, I think the point gets across quite well

The one downside is that sometimes you can be feeling particularly in need of attention and affection and well, he's asleep. Or at work. But probably asleep, so he's a bit unaware

Of course, he's totally down if you tuck yourself under his arm and cuddle anyway, but sometimes you need him awake

But he's fairly aware of this and insists that you communicate and wake him up if need be. And he will at least try to stay awake. No guarantees (I mean how the fuck does he manage to sleep standing up?), but he'll try

Zayne

Zayne is actually hard for me to peg, despite him being 100% my bias

For Zayne, action trumps words. He's a quiet person, but he's actually very demonstrative

He's also very cerebral about it and observant, so he may very well pick up on your need for attention and love before you're even aware of it yourself

He does research and definitely recommends therapy. He's well aware that it can be difficult to fulfill your needs because, well, overtime

He's a workaholic and that habit is hard to break, especially with his own issues and his care for his patients

That being said, when you're in the same place, expect a lot of affection

Whether it's holding hands, or a hand around your waist, or little things like taking care of your physical well being. He has this knack for making you feel seen and safe and cared for without verbally expressing his emotions

He also makes sure you know that if you need to call, you can. If he's free he'll never ignore you and get back to you as soon as possible

#honestly of all the fictional boys in my “to write for” list the lads men are not the ones I'd go for in this situation #Not because they don't care but because it seems so hard for most of them to actually give you what you need #Of course communication and compromise goes a long way #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel x gn!reader #Xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier x gn!reader #Zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x gn!reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace hcs #deepspace thinking #request: anon

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chimcess · 3 months ago

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Waterlog || pjm (6)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 9.4K+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, kissing, ableism, mention of past alcohol abuse, talk of previous sexual encounters, talks of bullying, probably poor swimming terminology, I also have no idea how swim events work so might be wrong about that too, talks of possible inappropriate coach-athlete relationship, lots of insecurities, survivor's guilt, lots of guilt and shame actually, reader needs to be kinder to herself, we all deserve a Jimin, he's still best boyfriend, SMUT, smut warnings under the cut...

prev || masterlist || next || playlist

Smut Warnings: virgin!Jimin, both of them are inexperienced, bad past sexual experiences, vaginal fingering, praise, public sexual contact, denied orgasm (unintentional), very vanilla and tame all things considered

Jimin stood a few feet away, his hands tangled in his hair as he smeared a thick layer of gelatin through the strands. The sight of him working so meticulously brought a smile to my face. It was a familiar scene for synchronized swimmers, their hair slicked down with the sticky goo to ward off chlorine’s wrath. But I knew a few racers who swore by it too. Jimin had never bothered before I pointed out how his hair was looking increasingly parched from our relentless days in the pool. I had shown him how to do it a few weeks ago, and now it was a daily ritual for him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, fighting the urge to reach out and trace my fingers over the smooth expanse of his back. The phases of the moon inked down his spine were an irresistible temptation; I longed to press my lips against the artwork.

The event had been a last-minute switcheroo—originally slated for solo swimmers covering 250 yards (10 laps in this community pool), but changed when the organizers realized the length of the meet would be an endurance test in itself. Now, competitors were grouped into teams of five, each swimmer tackling two laps. Jimin was content with his team but jittery about being assigned breaststroke, his weakest stroke. Yet, I had no doubts. After months of grueling practice, his team wasn’t about to falter.

“It is what it is,” he muttered, rinsing the gelatin from his hands. “I’m more bummed about having to redirect our donations, but at least it’s still going to cancer research. Can’t complain too much.”

“Just have fun,” I offered. “Trey got to pick the charity because he pulled in the most personal donations from your team. Just do your thing and it’ll be great.”

I fiddled with the collar of my polo shirt, still struggling to accept the coach’s uniform of polo and jeans. It seemed every other coach in the pool wore it, but I felt more like a middle-aged man at a barbecue than a swim coach. The Sketchers I wore didn’t help. Jimin had picked the dark blue color for me, which was comfy enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I looked ridiculous.

“You look great,” Jimin said, catching my eye in the mirror.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. He’d been saying that all day, but I struggled to take him seriously. My reflection told a different story—frumpy and awkward. At least the bit of makeup I’d applied managed to make me look somewhat alive.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, adjusting his swim cap. “You look nice in that color. I even like the eyeliner thing you did. You look pretty. You always look pretty.”

I smiled, wanting desperately to kiss him but feeling too on edge. We’d sworn to keep our relationship under wraps. This year was bound to be chaotic, and the last thing we needed was reporters sniffing around if the word got out. We were confident we could manage it, but as I let my eyes roam over his mostly naked body, and with the thrill of his compliment still fresh, I wasn’t so sure.

How was I supposed to keep my hands to myself when he looked like that? His presence was almost a tangible force, and the temptation was just too great.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to mask the tension in my voice. “Are you almost ready to join the others? William seemed really excited to work with you.”

He shook his head, a pout forming on his lips, and the sight of it made my heart race.

“Socializing is important,” I teased, reaching out to touch his arm. “What would people think if you spent all your time locked up in your changing room with your coach?”

A mischievous grin spread across his face before he leaned in and stole a quick kiss. I gave him a warning look, though the smile I couldn't suppress gave away my true feelings.

“I think they’d take one look at you and understand.”

I giggled, “Such a flirt.”

Jimin wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. The heat of his bare skin against mine sent shivers down my spine. It had never really occurred to me that he might be doing this on purpose. Hoseok’s words still echoed in my mind. Right now, Jimin seemed at ease with physical intimacy, but I knew better. If I tried to take things further, he would retreat and change the subject.

This was something we’d have to address when we got home. For now, I wanted to see how far we could push things. If he wanted to stop, we would. But I didn’t mind being the guinea pig for this exploration.

I hopped onto the bathroom sink, wrapping my legs around one of his. We had taken over the family restroom at the event center, Jimin having convinced the others he needed solitude to get “in the zone” before his swim. I trailed behind him dutifully, my sunglasses barely hiding my excitement.

Jimin’s hands traced down my sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He fit against me like a perfect puzzle piece. When his fingers slid under my shirt to grip my waist, I couldn’t help but grind my hips against his thigh. The jeans dulled the sensation, but I sighed in pleasure. Jimin froze.

“Sorry,” I murmured, nuzzling into his neck, mortified. “Got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice deep and rugged, stirring something primal within me. I bit back the more selfish, needy side of me and just held him. If he couldn’t see my face, maybe he wouldn’t know how desperate I was. “Do you want to do it again?”

I leaned back to look at him. His shyness was evident, but he wasn’t scared. I needed to be sure before getting excited.

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Are you sure? We can talk about it later if you want.”

Jimin shook his head, his grip on my waist tightening. The sensation was almost too much to bear. I suppressed the intense arousal for his sake. I wasn’t going to get off on his thigh, especially with these jeans on, but I was willing to go along if it meant something to him.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said softly, as though confessing a secret. “I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”

“Baby,” I cooed, gently caressing his face. He avoided eye contact. “Hey, look at me.”

He did.

“Don’t worry about that stuff,” I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “Whatever we do together is going to feel good because we’re together.”

He shook his head, resting his forehead against mine. He seemed anxious, almost sad. I wished he’d open up more; it might ease his burden.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. “I want you so bad but I get nervous.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. You make me nervous too.”

We stood there, both caught in our tangled emotions. We had arrived early so Jimin could scout and time his warm-up routine before the event. I felt conflicted—my body was slick with desire, and despite knowing he was upset, I still wanted him to touch me. The fact that I was even keeping track of time for a quickie was almost criminal.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Chim,” I breathed, kissing his cheek. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Is it because you don’t want to or because you’re worried about me?”

I didn’t have a good answer. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty, but I was so afraid of hurting him that I struggled to articulate what I wanted. My fear of rejection was overshadowed by concern for him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

I nodded, “Of course you can. I’m just worried about you right now. You seem upset.”

His hands slowly traveled up my shirt. I leaned back slightly, granting him better access. His hands ventured higher, and he admitted, “I’m not very experienced. It makes me feel insecure.”

His hands stopped just below my bra. “I know you’re older and have been with more people.”

I nodded, understanding his hesitation. I didn’t need the whole story to grasp what he was trying to tell me.

“I’ve only been with one person,” I confessed. “You don’t have a reason to be insecure. It’s just me. Just us.”

He kissed me, and my fingernails dug into his shoulders. He pulled away, and I nearly cried out in frustration. He was driving me insane.

“It was one for me too,” he said, his hands tracing down my back. “It couldn’t… perform.”

The pieces fell into place. He was a virgin. It all made sense now.

“Did you ever…?” I asked, kissing up his neck.

“No. She told a bunch of her friends, and I got picked on for a while. I never tried again. Swimming took up so much of my time that it never came up.”

My heart broke for him. I wanted to know who had hurt my beautiful boy. I took a moment to calm myself, planting gentle kisses on his skin to soothe him.

“Fuck her,” I said softly.

He chuckled, his hands moving back to my stomach, then lower. I bit his ear playfully, and he moaned, slipping his hand into my pants. I could barely contain my pleasure.

“We’re not having sex here,” I said, trying to ease the pressure. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

He nodded, his gaze focused on my lap. He was still touching me over my panties, and the sensation was almost unbearable. I was almost ashamed of how wet I was, but after months of frustration, it felt almost justified.

“What time is it?” he asked.

I lifted my wrist. “We have twenty minutes before warm-ups.”

He nodded, slipping a finger into my panties. I jolted at the cold touch. He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Do you want to stop?”

I shook my head, “Not if you don’t want to.”

He looked into my eyes as his finger gently traced up and down my folds. I sighed in relief, letting my eyes slip shut, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me.

His finger pressed against my entrance, and when he felt no resistance, he pushed it in all the way. I moaned, opening my legs wider. His movements were tentative at first, but soon became more confident, his strokes deep and deliberate. My body was on fire with need.

“Right there,” I choked out, leaning back into the mirror.

His fingers hit the same spot again, and I shuddered, trying to muffle my cries. Jimin’s touches were more assured now, making my toes curl.

“Yeah?” he cooed, adding another finger. My eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “You’re so perfect.”

I could feel myself shaking, my hands gripping his arm for support. I was so close, and my muffled moans were becoming harder to control.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes flew open. I looked at Jimin, then the door, and back to him. His pupils were almost entirely dilated, and he was flushed a pretty pink. His fingers were still deep inside me.

“Tara?” a voice called out. “Are you in there?”

“Wrong bathroom,” Jimin called out, fingers still moving. I watched him, biting my lip to keep quiet. “Sorry.”

“Oh! My bad.”

The man’s footsteps faded away.

“Time?” he asked.

I checked my watch and sighed. Jimin slowly withdrew his fingers, and I almost choked on my own breath when he put them in his mouth.

“Later,” he promised.

It was a promise that weighed heavily. I fought between being his girlfriend and his coach. The girlfriend wanted to forget everything else and keep him here. The coach knew better and that I would regret keeping him from something so important to him.

“Let’s go kick some ass,” I said, kissing him one last time before sliding off the counter. “You leave first. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

He scoffed and took my hand. “I’m not leaving you after what we just did.”

“Such a gentleman,” I giggled, leaning into his side. “Make sure no one’s around, and we’ll leave together.”

We were the first ones at the pool, a handful of reporters already lurking around the bleachers, eager to catch the first glimpse of the swimmers. Jimin and I had let go of each other before entering the pool room, our roles as coach and trainee now firmly back in place. My steps slowed as I turned to him.

“I’ll hang back,” I said, my weariness of the press still gripping me. No one seemed to recognize me yet, and Jimin was an effective buffer. “Go and play nice.”

He flashed me a grin. “I’m an American sweetheart, angel. The people love me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, sweetheart, you better start talking. We’ve got warm-ups to do. Unless you want to cramp up and lose. If that’s your plan, be my guest.”

As Jimin charmed the cameras, I mentally reviewed our plan for the day. Regardless of the outcome, we were hitting the town for food and drinks. It was a perfect way to build rapport and expand our network. The more connections we made, the more likely someone would pass our name to a sponsor.

It struck me as odd that Jimin wasn’t a sponsor or ambassador for any major brands despite his popularity. When I asked him about it, he mentioned Hamilton’s belief that endorsements would be a distraction. His mother thought Hamilton was just jealous of Jimin’s success. I had to side with Nayeon on this one.

I was already working on securing a deal with Nike or Adidas. Their sportswear was among the most recognized worldwide, and getting Jimin’s face out there would set him up nicely for life after the Olympics. He had at least one, maybe two, more Olympics before retirement, and sponsors could provide the financial cushion he needed while he focused on swimming.

I’d reached out to an old contact at Speedo, who was eager to get the endorsement process rolling. Miguel, the rep I’d always dealt with, was thrilled about the newest hot swimmer in town. A shipment of gear was on its way, and I was awaiting confirmation from advertising about a potential campaign. I hadn’t anticipated this, but Speedo seemed eager to be one of Jimin’s first endorsements. I planned to discuss it with him once the charity event was over.

“Ready?”

I jumped, Jimin’s laugh ringing in my ears.

“Yeah, yeah,” I teased. “Laugh it up. Just take off your clothes and get in the water.”

Jimin stuck his tongue out at me, peeling off his jacket and tossing it on his gear bag. His flip-flops followed, and before long, he was in the water. I stood at the edge, watching him as he began his laps. This was more about stretching than training, and I reminded him to take it slow.

The pool began to fill with other swimmers practicing their strokes. Jimin and the others tagged each other in and out, getting used to the relay transitions. I watched with pride. His breaststroke was impressive. His progress was a testament to his hard work, and I felt honored to be part of his journey. Relationship aside, he was dedicated, and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“He looks good,” Coach Tyler Moore said, his gaze fixed on Jimin. “Better than when he was with that other guy. Kid’s a beast.”

“Good for a short guy,” Nicole, another coach, joked.

Jimin’s height was always a topic of discussion. His shorter stature seemed to be a disadvantage, especially against the taller Olympic swimmers. Most of the men in the category were at least six feet tall, and the women were often taller than Park, myself included.

“He’s a great swimmer,” I replied. “He’s fast and strong. Could probably bench-press a bear if he tried.”

Tyler chuckled. “Do you think he’ll place at the Olympics?”

I nodded. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Girl’s a recluse,” a familiar dry voice drawled beside me.

I chuckled. Summer Lewis, an old friend from high school, had unexpectedly shown up. It was a welcome surprise that eased some of my nerves.

“Thought hell would freeze over before she was back in public,” Summer said. “Do you even leave the house?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep the smile on my face. “Obviously. I’m here right now.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at me as the others dispersed to speak with reporters. “Leg holding up?”

“Yeah. I still get some pain, especially in the cold, but I’m managing. Alive, so I can’t complain too much.”

The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon. I pushed that thought aside. There was no room for survivor’s guilt today. I was happy. Everything was coming together. He would be happy for me. But he’s dead.

I took a deep breath, my anxiety escalating. The reporters were closing in, and the thought of interacting with them made me physically ill. My stomach churned, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. It was irrational, but I was sweating like a pig.

“Do you miss it?” Summer asked, gesturing toward the pool.

“All the time,” I admitted, a bead of sweat trickling down my neck. “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. Let Park know if he starts looking for me.”

Summer nodded. “We’ll be starting in ten.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

Jimin looked my way as I glanced back at him. He gave me a thumbs-up, and I nodded in return, signaling that I’d be back shortly. He needed to stay focused on the water and his team.

I squeezed my hand into a fist, tucking my thumb underneath my index finger and popping it through the other side. I waved my wrist, signaling that I needed to use the restroom. He nodded, and I saw him relax a bit. Good. I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

I splashed water on my face, my reflection in the bathroom mirror staring back at me. Today was overwhelming. My anxiety was through the roof, and the makeup on my face felt like a mask. It looked fine, as it always did, but it only made me feel more insecure. I looked like I was trying too hard, and everyone knew it. God, I was such an idiot.

And then there was Jimin.

I let a single tear slip. It was inappropriate and disrespectful. He was so nervous and scared, and I’d brushed off his vulnerability because of what? I hadn’t had any in a while? I was no better than the men I despised.

I gave myself two minutes to cry, letting the guilt and shame flow out. Once my watch beeped, I dabbed my face with tissues and fixed my hair. Whatever was going on with me would have to wait. Jimin was counting on me.

As I opened the bathroom door, I collided with a solid chest. I stumbled back, barely catching myself on the wall. The person I bumped into remained still.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, adjusting my clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

The voice was unmistakable.

Standing in front of me was Matthew Hamilton, his blonde hair starting to silver and slicked back with too much hairspray. His pale blue eyes, devoid of warmth, still unsettled me. He was built like an ox and as healthy as ever, but age was catching up.

“Good to see you, Otter,” he said, his tone dripping with boredom. “Seems like you got stuck with my leftovers.”

I was too furious to speak. How dare he speak about Jimin like that? I had to hold myself together before I lost control. I was already at my breaking point, and his condescending attitude was the last straw.

“Too bad they couldn’t find a swimmer up to your caliber,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the offense. “Even with a limp, you deserve better than Park. Kid’s got no spirit, and don’t even get me started on the drinking.”

I scoffed. “Jimin doesn’t drink.”

“Not anymore, maybe,” Hamilton said casually, as if trying to make small talk. “He used to drink like a fish until his brother died. Working with him was a nightmare. Glad you’re not dealing with that shit with your bum leg.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my leg,” I snapped, at least making him look slightly chastised. “And for the record, that ‘nightmare’ you keep talking about beat your personal best in his last competition. So if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to a has-been who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

I shoved past him, barely moving him an inch. My steps were heavy as I stalked down the hallway, my anger searing through me. I knew my face betrayed my emotions, and the cameras would catch every detail. It was almost enough to make me turn back and hide in the bathroom.

But I had someone counting on me, and he was far more important than protecting my pride.

Jimin was standing with the group when I returned, three minutes to spare. He clocked something was off right away, and so did Summer.

“What crawled up your ass?” she asked.

“Some dumb bitch,” I huffed, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. “I bumped into an asshole on my way out of the bathroom.”

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Do we need to tell security?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I think I gave him enough of an earful to keep him the hell away from me.”

I didn’t want to reveal who had bothered me. It would only cause unnecessary drama and upset Jimin. We had an event to focus on.

“Let's go over the plan one more time.”

Taking over as head coach, I directed the team. The others were happy to hand over the reins, and the boys took direction well. We reviewed the order of events, their best times, and their confidence levels. After a pep talk and some words of encouragement, it was time for the boys to swim.

Jimin was third in our group of four, and I watched him intensely. How well he performed today would set the tone for the rest of the season. He was signed up to compete in the breaststroke event at the Olympics, along with other solo swimming events. I knew just how skeptical people were about his chances. Today’s performance could reignite interest in him, which was crucial for securing sponsors.

Jimin took his place on the block, laser-focused and ready to dive in as soon as Trey tagged him. Trey was the fastest in the pool today, giving Jimin a head start before the others were halfway back across.

I held my breath. Jimin was a bullet in the water. Not as perfect as I wanted, but much improved. He reached the touchpad and pushed himself back across the pool. Team 3 was catching up, but Jimin would finish first. I watched as he gave one final push and tagged in D’Angelo.

Take that, you old bastard, I sneered internally. My anger surprised me; Hamilton deserved my contempt. No one gets to talk about Jimin like that. Ever.

D’Angelo butterflied us to victory. Our team hugged each other as the announcer declared our win to the cheering crowd. The bleachers were filled, the audience screaming their praise at the four men. They basked in the glory. All I could do was stare at my pretty boy’s smile in awe.

I really did love him.

Even if I didn’t tell him right now, I knew in my heart that I did. I went up against Matthew fucking Hamilton for him, came to this charity function, and kept it together. Now, I was going to talk to some news reporters, all because I loved him.

I love him, I love him, I love him…

“You’re a damn good coach, Y/N.”

I turned to smile at Summer. She was beautiful, her brown eyes warm and kind. She reminded me of Giselle, but her features were sharper, her nose broader. I remembered us cutting up after placing in nationals right after we turned 21. I hadn’t thought about her in so long I forgot what it was like to miss her.

“So are you. D’Angelo is one of the best I’ve seen for his age group. How old is he?”

“Sixteen. Turning seventeen next month. Hope he’ll be Olympics-ready next time, but I don’t know if he’ll stick with it.”

“He will. You can see it in his eyes.”

D’Angelo was talking to Jimin, the high schooler bubbly and starry-eyed. He had a slight stutter and kept apologizing about his tics. D’Angelo had Tourette’s and clicked his tongue and winked a lot. He attached himself to Jimin once they got comfortable, and my boyfriend told me he had followed the younger swimmer on social media.

“Where does he go to school?”

“Pioneer High,” she replied. “His family moved to Ann Arbor a few weeks ago. He was going to school out here in Allendale.”

What a small world.

“Does he need a new coach?” I asked. “I’m out in Saline. It’s only twenty minutes away from Ann Arbor.”

Summer seemed excited about the prospect of us working together. She said this was their last meet as coach and student, and she was sad to see him go since he was the only person serious about swimming professionally on their team. I gave her my contact information and asked her to pass it on to D’Angelo’s parents. I saw potential in him and wanted to keep that fire in his eyes.

“He’s going to be so excited.”

“Well, he’ll have to wait until after the Olympics,” I reminded her. “I’m up to my neck in work right now.”

“What about weekends?” she countered.

“Maybe Saturday,” I sighed. “We’ll see. I’m not sure if I want to commit to it right now. I’ll be in hell until July. Between Nationals and all the other competitions Hamilton signed him up for, we’re not getting any breaks.”

Summer hummed, eyeing the reporters. They had gone to speak with the boys, all of whom seemed eager to share their happiness about the win. St. Jude’s would be getting a hundred thousand dollars from today’s event. Reaching into my pocket, I asked Summer if she had recorded the race.

“Nicole did,” she told me. “She sent it to the group chat already.”

“Excellent,” I grinned. “Jimin’s mom wanted to see him swim. She was so disappointed she couldn’t come.”

I felt Summer watching me as I unlocked my phone. Watching the video, I was pleased at how well-shot it was. You could see all of our boys on full display. I thanked Nicole for the video and saved it. Pulling up Neyeon’s number, I sent the video and promised her to have Jimin call her as soon as he was available.

“You two together?”

I looked at Summer, keeping my face neutral.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping,” she laughed. “It’s just…you two seem very close.”

I raised an eyebrow. Lying wasn’t something I did often, and this felt wrong but necessary. I didn’t want anyone to know about us. It took one person saying the wrong thing, and we’d be up shit’s creek come July. Our relationship was frowned upon by SafeSport and would be considered imbalanced.

“We’re not.”

Summer did not look convinced.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Y/N. You’re just a trainer while he’s still in Michigan. A stand-in until Bunch finds him a new coach. We all know that, and you’re not breaking the code of conduct.”

“I’m not a temp,” I sighed. “We haven’t disclosed anything yet. I wanted to wait until after the Olympics, but I’m afraid I’ll have to step down before that happens.”

Summer placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be in Colorado in April, right? Tell Bunch your job as coach is over and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“You don’t get it,” I shook my head. “Ozzie wants me to be his permanent coach. That’s been the expectation this entire time, and I know Jimin would want the same.”

“Well, he can’t have his cake and eat it too,” she said, glancing at the reporters. “Get him to understand the position you’d be in. I’m sure if you told him your romantic relationship would make you look bad, then he’d be more willing to get help elsewhere.”

“He wants to finish the season with me by his side. It was the only compromise he was willing to listen to.”

“Put your foot down. Find other options. Christmas is around the corner. Spring won’t be too long after that. You should step down before Oswald finds out. Don’t screw yourself over, babe. You’ve worked too hard for this to let some kid take it away from you.”

I snorted, “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“No,” she argued. “He’s being selfish. You both are.”

I knew she was right. I should have waited until I was no longer attached to him in this way before starting anything. I knew it from the beginning, and I still allowed myself to be in this position. Summer had a point. Finding him a permanent coach before we went to Colorado in April was a good idea. If I was just a trainer, then nothing would be inappropriate, and I could still help him out in the gym.

“Are you looking for anything?” I joked.

Summer laughed. “Girl, I’d love to work with that boy, but I don’t think we’d line up this year. I have kids now. I can email you a few recommendations.”

“Thanks, Summer. I don’t know how big of a deal it’s going to be, but I’ll talk to Bunch about it.”

“Anytime, Otter. I’m just speaking from my experiences. He might tell you something different. Don’t spiral over it. I know you.”

I always hated that stupid nickname, but I had to put on a smile. Cameras were coming our way, and I needed to be sure I was on my best behavior. For Jimin’s sake.

The interview went better than I expected. I didn’t have to talk about myself a single time, and it didn’t look like any of the reporters here knew who I was. It wasn’t pleasant, but I couldn’t complain. We spoke for five minutes before they moved on to the others. Taking that as my cue, I went to collect my athlete.

We had a lot to talk about tonight.

Jimin smiled when I approached. The other three boys greeted me just as eagerly, and I was more than happy to hand out my praises. D’Angelo and Trey went to mingle with the losing teams. Paul went to find Nicole, leaving Jimin and me alone.

“You look upset,” he said, handing his duffle bag over when I held out my hand. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. I just need to talk to you later.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” I reassured him. “Something private. I don’t want to do it here.”

“Okay, Coach.”

That night, as I lay in bed, I thumbed through the email Summer had sent me earlier. Jimin had been invited out with the other boys, and I had pushed him to go. I told him I had paperwork and reports to handle, that he should enjoy his night off. He seemed reluctant but left anyway.

The truth was, I wasn't ready to have this conversation with him. Every time I tried to bring up our relationship, he brushed it off, saying he was fine with waiting until after the Olympics. But I knew better. It would look worse if we waited until he won a medal to disclose everything. I was his coach, temporary or otherwise, and it was my responsibility to make sure boundaries weren't crossed.

I should have never come here. Not when I knew exactly how I felt about him before I did. I was such an idiot.

Finally, ready to face the music, I called Ozzie. It was still early in Colorado, but I knew he'd answer. I never called him unless it was important. Maybe, if I was lucky, Whitney would pick up, and I could chat with her first. She always had a way of helping me get my head straight before unleashing my worries on Ozzie.

"Hello?" No such luck tonight.

"Hey, Oz," I greeted, the worry in my voice making me want to hang up. "How are you?"

"Fine. What's wrong, Otter?"

I sighed, "I fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

So I did. I spent half an hour unloading everything that had happened since I moved to Michigan. How attracted I was to Jimin, but how I pushed those feelings aside to coach him. The months of slowly building longing. Sushi night in Detroit. The date when I came back from visiting home. The kiss on his couch. The brief sexual encounter this morning (though I left out most of those details). I told him everything.

To his credit, Oswald just listened. He only spoke every so often to clarify something or ask about a small detail I left out. As my story came to a close, the pit in my stomach felt like someone was sitting on me. My hands began to tremble.

"I'm so sorry, Ozzie," I cried. "You trusted me, and I fucked it all up."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he finally said, his voice soft and gentle. "Summer was being dramatic earlier. What you two do is your business as long as you disclose it."

"But-"

"Katinka Hosszú and Shane Tusup are married. Coach-athlete relationship. They've disclosed it, and they're fine. You and Park are doing the same thing. I'll let everyone else know, and you'll be fine once the Olympics come around."

"I just don't want to be a bad person, Oz."

"You're not," he soothed. "You did the right thing by telling me. I'm happy for you, Y/N. You've been alone for too long, and that kid needs someone like you in his corner. He's been through a lot."

Wiping my face, his words brought back my encounter with Hamilton. The words he used to describe Jimin were so far from reality, but I still couldn't find it in me to not believe him. Matthew was a jerk, a stupid one at that, but he was sincere in his annoyance.

"I ran into Hamilton today. He said some shitty things about Jimin. Called him a drunk."

Ozzie cursed under his breath.

My heart rate sped up. So it was true? But that didn't make sense. Jimin didn't even drink. I had never heard of a drunk who didn't drink. Unless he was in recovery.

I thought about my dad. He'd been sober for five years now. It was one of the only compliments I could give his new wife. She kept him on the straight and narrow. Imagining Jimin in my childhood basement, too drunk to stand up, crying for a wife that wasn't coming back felt wrong. I could never put him in that position. That wasn't him at all.

"That's something you should talk to him about."

"But it's true?"

"To an extent," Ozzie admitted. "I wouldn't call him a drunk, but the kid can hold his liquor. He was worse a few years ago, but he's been great for a long time. Hamilton is just exaggerating."

But I had a gut feeling he wasn't.

"Thanks for talking to me, Oz."

"Anytime, Y/N," he chuckled. "And delete that damn email. He doesn't need a new coach. You're working magic on him."

"Night."

Tossing my phone on the bed, I slammed my laptop shut and put it on the nightstand. Today had been a disaster. We came here and won, did exactly as well as I had hoped, but it felt hollow. I didn't know who to believe. Summer's concerns were valid from an academic coach's perspective, and I understood her worries. It was strange to me as well. Ozzie was a far more reliable source, but it felt too easy. Things were never that simple for me, and it was difficult to calm down enough to believe what he said.

Curling into a ball, I stared at the front door. He'd be back soon, and I'd have to explain my strange mood. I knew he'd be upset with me for sending him away after saying we needed to talk, but I hoped he'd forgive me once I explained why I needed space to think. So many decisions needed to be made, and I knew I would only hurt him if I tried to do anything before screwing my head back on.

For now, I decided to go by Ozzie's advice. If any issues came up, we'd deal with them together. As a team. Jimin would prefer it that way, and I could take some of the pressure off my shoulders.

A beep. A wiggle. Another beep. The door opened.

"Stupid keycard doesn't work right," Jimin grumbled to himself, slipping out of his shoes. "I knew there was a reason it was so cheap."

I slowly sat up and watched him. His hair was in his eyes, and his skin looked a little pale, but he seemed to be in a good mood. I couldn't smell alcohol either.

I wanted to punch myself in the face.

I wasn't ready for that conversation yet, but I knew avoiding it would only make things worse. If I let my mind wander, it would spin the worst story ever told, and I'd constantly be checking to make sure he wasn't drunk.

Jimin didn't drink, I told myself. Jimin's been doing great.

He went straight to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes to collect myself. I needed to be honest but cautious. If I told him word-for-word what Hamilton had said, it would only make him feel bad. Starting with the good news first might help. Maybe learning that we didn't have to hide our relationship status going forward would ease the sting of his old coach's words.

I would have to approach this delicately. The toilet flushed. The water ran. The bathroom door opened. It was showtime.

"Had fun?" I asked him, knees pressed against my chest.

He smiled at me, "They're all really nice. Wish you were there."

"Next time," I promised. "Want to put the TV on?"

Jimin shrugged, "Sure. Food Network?"

"Chopped might be on."

It was actually Iron Chef, but we both liked that show too, so we kept it on. I tried not to stare at Jimin as he got undressed. He only wore a shirt and boxers to sleep, so it was very distracting. I needed to be focused and ready for anything.

Climbing into bed, he wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face into my side. I was still sitting up, cradling my legs, but Jimin's whining finally got me to relax. Sliding down, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him throw the blanket over me.

This was my happy place.

"I missed you," he mumbled, fingers playing with my hair.

"I missed you too," I told him. "Sorry I've been weird."

"What's wrong, angel?"

I felt my eyes welling up. "Good or bad?"

"Good."

I took a deep breath.

"I told Coach Bunch about our relationship. He said we'll be fine, and he's going to put in a disclosure form with the board for us. We'll probably get an email to sign a few documents in a couple of days."

He kissed my forehead, a large, toothy grin overtaking his entire face. I couldn't help but smile back. I knew it would make him happy. Gripping my hair, he yanked my head forward for a kiss. He couldn't stop smiling even as our lips collided. His joy eased some of my anxiety about the conversation that was to come.

"I'm so happy right now," he giggled, kissing me again. "I can finally show you off like the pretty girl you are."

Relenting, I tightened my grip around him. I needed to focus on the good. Jimin wasn't going to get mad at me for being honest, and I had to hope Hamilton being a jerk wouldn't burst our perfectly formed bubble.

"I ran into Coach Hamilton today."

Jimin's smile dropped in sync with my heart.

"He said some things," I averted my gaze. "It upset me. That was my issue when I came back from the bathroom."

"What did he say?"

I shook my head, "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."

Jimin cupped my cheek.

"You were upset before you went. Why?"

I sighed, burying my face in his neck. It was easier to talk to him when I didn't feel his eyes on me. It never ended. The anxiety. The shame. The guilt.

"I just felt so bad about the bathroom thing. You told me to drop it, but it's still there. I don't want to make you feel pressured. I want you to feel loved when I touch you. I just want to make you feel good, Jimin."

"You do," he soothed, kissing my head. "You make me feel amazing. There's nothing wrong with the things we do. We're going to be okay."

I couldn't help but cry. I loved him so much. I could never, ever, let him go. He was everything I ever wanted. Perfect.

"And then, here comes this goddamn asshole," I cried, the words spilling out of me like a busted dam. I was past the point of no return, the fury and frustration rolling off me in waves. Any semblance of calm had fled, replaced by a raw, unfiltered torrent of emotion.

"He kept yammering about my 'bum leg,' saying you were no good, calling you a drunk. I don't know what came over me, but I just snapped. I never lose it like that, but I did. And now, I feel like I've ruined everything—your meet, your moment. And to top it all off, I went behind your back and talked to Ozzie—"

"Stop." Jimin's hands were on my face, his grip firm but gentle, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stop it. Please, don't hide from me. You didn't ruin anything, angel. I promise. I'm so happy we won, and you talking to Bunch is the best gift anyone’s ever given me."

I shook my head, unable to accept his words. The day had spiraled into a nightmare, and I felt responsible for every second of it. I couldn't celebrate with him, couldn't touch him, couldn't even look at him. I was a failure. I was a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake. I was going to ruin his career. His life. His—

"One," he took a deep breath. "Two," then another. "Three," he kissed my forehead. "Come on, angel girl. Breathe with me."

I blinked, following his lead. One deep breath in. One big exhale out. One breath in. One breath out. One, two, three, four; five. Ten, nine, eight, seven; six. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

"There you go," Jimin mumbled. "Just calm down. I'm not mad. I promise you I'm not mad."

I nodded, my breath catching up with me. With my head cleared, the weight of my earlier words hit me like a sledgehammer. So much for being gentle and kind. I wanted to punch myself in the face. God, I was a horrible girlfriend.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "That was unnecessary. And selfish. And wrong. I promised myself I'd stay calm, and then I just freaked out on you."

Sitting up, I wiped my face roughly, angry at my tears. I was too old to act like this when I was upset. I needed to learn how to stay composed and communicate. No one wants to deal with a crybaby who explodes all the time.

"It's okay to be upset," he replied. "That's a lot to handle alone, and you did so well today. I want you to know you can have these moments with me. It's what I'm here for."

"But you shouldn’t have to."

"I want to," he said, grabbing my face again. I hadn’t realized I had looked away. "I want to because I love you."

Automatically, I laughed. My disbelief was so great I was positive Ashton Kutcher would jump out of the bathroom and tell me I was getting Punk’d. But this wasn’t 2003. It was 2024, and no one had thought about that blemish on MTV’s record in over a decade. This was just me and Jimin in our hotel room, and he was telling me something profound, and all I could do was laugh.

He cracked a smile. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, almost giddy with joy. "Nothing. I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing."

His smile widened. Sitting up, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. I squeaked, giggled, and threw myself at him.

My mood swings had to be exhausting. I knew I had to be as well.

But he loved me. Jimin loved me. Even if I was the most exhausting girlfriend, he loved me.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes soft and glowing with unmistakable fondness. "I don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that."

"I love you, too," I whispered back like a secret. "I’m sorry."

He shook his head. "Don’t feel bad for telling me these things. You’re not ruining anything for me. I’m just happy you’re giving me the privilege to hold you when you’re down. You’re a suffer-in-silence type."

I snorted. "Woe is me."

Jimin leaned back and took me with him. Laying across his chest, I got comfortable and stared at him. He was the prettiest man I had ever seen. He needed a haircut soon. It was past his ears and too hard for him to manage. I’d let him go early next week so he could fit in a trip to the barber.

"There’s nothing wrong with your leg, by the way."

I snickered. "I told him the same thing. May or may not have called him a has-been, too."

That made Jimin laugh. The sound was like music. I loved it when he was happy. I was worried he was putting his feelings aside to make me feel better, but I had to force myself to let him come to me on his own time. Whatever Jimin wanted was what I wanted, and if he wasn’t ready to tell me about his past yet, I would accept that.

Because I loved him. And he loved me. I smiled. He loves me.

"You have questions, right?"

"About the drunk comment? Sure, but you don’t have to say anything. You can talk to me or not, and I’ll still be here."

He regarded me for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."

I simpered. "You’re welcome."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Wanting to break the tension, I made a show of stretching my arms above my head. Yawning melodramatically, I curled up against his side. Jimin’s arms wrapped around my waist as if they were always meant to be there. As it turned out, a new episode of Chopped had come on.

Jimin was very pleased with this, and we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we watched the chefs open their baskets. We had gotten lucky enough to only miss the introductions. For their appetizer basket, they got mofongo (something I had never heard of before), English peas, sparkling cider, and catfish filets. I marveled at the ingredients. I would have been utterly clueless.

"What’s mofongo made of?" I asked Jimin.

"Mashed up fried plantains," he replied calmly. "They put garlic paste and chicharron in it. You’d usually eat it with beef broth, but it can change depending on the recipe. It’s a Puerto Rican dish. I only heard about it after swimming with Luis Rivera at Nationals. It’s really good."

"It sounds good. Summer? Her family is Nigerian, and if we were lucky, her mother would bring these massive pots of food to our training sessions when we were in the U.S. Olympic swimming team back in 2012. I dream about her jollof rice. And the soups? Don't even get me started."

I watched as one chef used the mofongo to create a marinade for his catfish and raised an eyebrow. Points off for lack of creativity. Another person had taken the mofongo and turned it into a thick gravy. Both seemed like safe choices, but at least they were using it. The other chef hadn’t even touched it. They were very focused on a pot of boiling potatoes and frying the fish.

"Boiling more potatoes seems pointless," I muttered.

"Let him cook."

I snorted. "Yes, sir."

Jimin was right, of course. A few moments later, the man was mixing the potatoes and mofongo together to make a hybrid of sorts. After that, he assembled his fish pie. He used the cider to make a base gravy for the fish and peas, added in a few other veggies for more flavor, and piled on the potatoes. I did not think I would like the flavor of fish with heaps of mash on them, but it looked delicious as he plated them. Far better than the other two’s strange and avant-garde style.

It just wasn’t something I would consider an appetizer.

"That’s an entire meal," Jimin scoffed. "He’s going home."

"Get out of my head, kid."

He kissed my cheek. "Make me."

"Punk."

"You love me."

"I do."

"Say it again," he giggled.

I rolled my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he sighed happily. "I’m so happy I can just say that now. You have no idea how hard it’s been to just... not say it."

I thought about the semi-panic attack I had in Hoseok’s car and laughed. He had no idea how much I understood where he was coming from.

"Say it as much as you want, love," I kissed the underside of his chin.

We had both been right. The judges thought the pie was too much to be an appetizer.

The hiss of the shower jolted me awake, the sound slicing through the thick, restless silence of the early morning. I fumbled groggily for my phone. The screen lit up: 3:17 AM. The bed beside me was a cold, empty expanse, and a tight knot of worry coiled in my gut. I slipped out of bed, the chill of the floor biting at my feet, and crept toward the bathroom door.

“Chim?” I called softly, barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile night.

“Yeah?” His voice was close, too close to the door for him to be in the shower.

“Can I come in?”

The moment of silence that followed was heavy, like the air before a storm. Then came the soft click of the lock, and the door creaked open just enough for me to see him. As I’d feared, he was still fully clothed, slumped on the toilet with that distant, haunted look I’d hoped never to see again. It had been months since he’d looked this lost.

I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, the small space barely accommodating us. We were so close our knees touched, but I didn’t care. He needed me, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice barely a breath.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on some dark chasm only he could see. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the steady drip of the showerhead. Eventually, he reached over and turned off the water. The steam billowed around us, wrapping us in a dense fog.

"Her name was Jackie," he said finally, his voice a whisper lost in the fog. "She was a friend of Annie’s. We were in college, and Annie practically forced us to go out so she could double date with Tom."

I hummed softly, encouraging him to continue. I didn’t understand why Jackie was surfacing now, but I had a sinking feeling she was the girl he’d mentioned earlier—the one who had made him feel small and worthless. Jackie. What a godawful name.

“She was one of those people who wore a mask around her friends and was someone else entirely when we were alone. I was 18, and she was pretty, so I let it slide. We had things in common, and we laughed a lot.”

He paused, drawing a shaky breath. “Her friends thought I was weird and didn’t want her with me. They’d been tight since middle school and still acted like high school mean girls. I didn’t care much for them either, but Jackie always said she didn’t care what they thought.”

My heart twisted in my chest. I had a gut-wrenching feeling where this was going, and it made me sick. My poor baby. I placed a hand on his knee in a futile attempt to comfort him.

“We’d been seeing each other for a few months, but we hadn’t done more than a few kisses and hugs. I was gearing up for my first professional championship swim meet, and she was buried in schoolwork. Double major or something, I don’t really remember.”

He took another deep breath. “Our clothes were off, and I was so nervous. She seemed okay with it. We just got dressed and watched a movie. We both knew that things weren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s normal, Jimin,” I murmured, trying to fill the void of silence. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head. “She told her friends, who told their friends, who then told everyone in my frat about what happened. Then she was too much of a coward to face me and acted like nothing had ever happened. I was humiliated, mortified. I just didn’t want to have sex anymore. The drinking started after, but that was more a side effect of being in a fraternity with undiagnosed depression.”

I was at a loss for words, so I stood up. Jimin watched me as I lowered myself onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight.

Even if it wasn’t some grotesque horror story, it was still a deep, festering wound. Trauma was trauma, regardless of its shape or size. This morning had uncovered more than either of us was willing to admit.

For Jimin, it was confronting his fears of rejection. For me, it was the struggle to finally move on from guilt and shame. Namjoon's face came to mind, and I had to make my brain stop itself from going there. He would want me to be happy. He would want me to live. I relaxed into him, hoping that we could both find a way to heal.

Jimin sucked in a few deep breaths before his arms enveloped my waist. He hiccuped once, then twice, and finally, he began to cry.

I buried my face in his hair, my own tears mingling with his. It was heart-wrenching to see him in such pain, but I felt deeply honored that he was finally allowing his walls to come down. For all my talk about suffering in silence, Jimin was far more adept at hiding his pain than I was.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He cried harder and nodded. “I know,” he wailed.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. Holding him in my arms, this beautiful, broken boy, I wished I could keep him locked away in this bathroom forever, safe from the cruelties of the world. I didn’t care if my legs went numb from sitting or if the grip he had on my ribs was starting to hurt. Jimin cried, and I stayed in his lap, a silent promise to be there, come what may.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

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leggerefiore · 19 days ago

Note

A fun (and potentially angsty) request, if you have the time! The final events of PLA end on a sour note for reader and Volo, with Reader eventually just up and returning to their time one day. Later on , Volo is wandering around Pasio only to find a young trainer - i guess around the preschool/kid trainer class age - looking very similar to him & the reader.

cw: volo's behaviour, reader implied to have a kid, short, not really angst, Volo is still Not A Good Guy

pairing: Volo/Reader

Volo would admit his life was full of many regrets and awful things. Being alive sometimes simply felt like a sin to him, yet he continued on to spite the horrible world he found himself in and those terrible feelings inside himself. Everything he did was solely for the pursual of his goals. The deity that avoided his grasp. Frustration still burned in his chest, but his goal had yet to pass. His intentions to pursue this path, no matter how much time it consumed were unyielding. Even in the face of a loved one.

That had been a rare thing in the merchant's life. Love. Those of his bloodline were long gone, barring another survivor. You had been truly something special, if not another painful for him to face. Arceus had sent you to intervene — Daring to choose you, an outsider, over him. It had driven him to a certain madness, but he found himself also entranced. The deity still had chosen you, and, in his pursuit of it, he had grown close to you. Far too close. The sting of your wholehearted rejection of his plans still burned inside his chest. He was truly not over it. You even had the gall to entirely vanish afterward — apparently having abandoned Hisui back for the era that you had been spit from.

Yes, Volo would admit to facing many, many painful things.

But he was nothing if not determined to put an end to it all.

Pasio intrigued him. His curiosity as an intellectual flourished and his goal felt aligned within his sight once more. Arceus's attention was on this island, choosing those among the most powerful to receive its blessing. Volo felt giddy at the plain opportunity. There was bountiful information around as well. Researchers from all around had gathered and allowed the blond to catch information as he pleased. Rei even had backed out of daring to reveal him, seemingly opting to take a “wait and see” path with him. What a fool. The so-called prince governing this place was easy enough to manipulate to his whims as well. That little man was so desperate for acknowledgement that he played easily into Volo's hands.

He readjusted his backpack as he looked around in the city centre. It was bustling as usual, many wandering around with purpose. Others vacantly moved wherever their whims called them to. Volo was just once among the crowd, leading to him sighing. It was a slow but steady progress. His apprehension lapped at him painfully even still. He wanted nothing more than to recreate this ephemeral world. As he walked, he found himself stopping as a child ran right into him.

They almost instantly pulled back and rubbed their forehead. Volo stiffened. Blonde hair fell over their left eye. His initial reaction had been similar to that of seeing Cynthia. He was not going to plead ignorance to his bloodline being continued. Except, when they looked up at him to apologise, their eyes reminded him far too much of another person. A familiar person. He swallowed. It was a little girl, far too young to be wandering around, he felt. Even in Hisui, small children were often kept to homes. “I'm sorry, mister!” Her voice was small, and her words were a bit untrained. His heart raced. He gave a perfect customer service smile and shook his head.

“No,” he spoke gently, kneeling down to her height, “It's quite alright. You seemed to be a rush, hm? Where are your parents?” His eyes peered at the pendant around her neck. The familiar teardrop shape told him so much with so little. She tilted her head at his questions, seemingly hesitant to tell a stranger that. He wanted to chuckle. So much like himself. Your name left his lips causing her to jump a little. “I'm friends with them,” he smiled so easily, “I've actually been meaning to meet with them here. Won't you take me to them?”

The little girl nodded, seemingly excited to meet one of your friends. Her small hand found his own. He gently took it. Oddly, he felt proud of the girl. He saw so much potential in her — Something of her being manifest of the relationship that you and he had shared at one point. You even cared enough to introduce her to his culture. He could have felt anger at the situation; of being left out of her life thus far, but he saw an opportunity. There was much to talk about when you two met once more.

“What's your name?” he asked, finally.

“Astrea,” she smiled.

Volo wondered how to include you both in his world.

#pokemon x reader #volo x reader #pokemon volo x reader #volo/reader #pokemon/reader

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studentbyday · 4 months ago

Text

a september packed with purpose 🏵️ (goals for the 2024-2025 academic year)

an attempt to live a meaningful life even if it's really busy.

🎓 academic goals:

stay on top of my schoolwork. not feeling like i'm running after deadlines but staying organized, calm, and methodical, even if there's a lot.

change up my study strats! turn text into diagrams! shorter focus periods followed by an active break to ease myself into the semester!

study 8h per day or less if at all possible (for official schoolwork)

👩🏻‍🔬 career goals:

finish databases courses to increase my career capital (i sped read so good they can't ignore you this summer and it was both inspiring and practical - grateful for the feeling of having a roadmap...even if it's vague.)

do everything to become so good the lab i'm interested in joining can't ignore me (i have pretty much no current affiliation with them or their university so this is gonna be an uphill climb unless maybe i seem like a perfect fit...)

🌳 lifestyle and adulting goals:

develop a can-do attitude and work on my growth mindset

continue to practice driving at least 3x per week before it snows

become a 6AM girlie (or an 8PM girlie, if you're looking at the sleeping time lol) so i have a few hours of calm, focused silence in the morning which will minimize the amount of time i need to spend studying after dinner (planning to take advantage of the jet lag and the fact that the sun sets earlier in winter, making me sleepy sooner 😠)

re-gain some level of fitness to counter my couch potato summer habits and all the sitting i'll be doing this semester

🤸🏻‍♀️ more fun goals:

apply to volunteer with my local horticultural society and hopefully start volunteering soon (hoping to work on their newsletter as that's something i miss from my high school days! something familiar will also be good for easing into my "reintegration into society" era as a previously "studying hermit". perhaps once i get so comfortable i feel like i'm plateauing, i can branch into being a volunteer gardener! i have absolutely zero successful experience with plants, so it would be really nice to have some guidance from people who've made and maintained such pretty gardens in my community 💗)

make time for piano (ideally at least 1h 3-4 days of the week, but i will be happy if i even get to touch the keys for less than 1h of practice 3-4 days a week. if i can do this, then i can more reasonably justify getting a real acoustic piano at home and maybe even take lessons again when things get less busy...and i don't have to fear not making progress or even getting worse on the digital in the meantime because my fingers and brain get re-accustomed to the acoustic feel and sound options surprisingly, happily quickly even if i only get to play on one for a few days of a year, which is already quite a privilege 🥺🙏🏻 in the meantime, i need to maintain/improve my dexterity, sight-reading skills, and theory knowledge. i don't plan to read the theory book front to back anymore, i'll just read the bits i'm most interested in and maybe eventually that will mean covering the whole book but i won't start with that intention in mind 🤷🏻‍♀️)

sOmEhOw have the energy to comprehend even 1 duolingo lesson in japanese ~daily if only to one day get to a level where i can read more japanese books (and maybe even watch some animé without subs? no pressure tho since i'm very picky about animé 😂)

💭 nice to have but not pressing:

make it a habit to read a nerdy book or academic article that isn't directly for schoolwork to help me find my research interests, learn more about labs in my physical area, and/or re-ignite my passion for/sense of wonder with STEM and STEM-related issues 🔥

each week read something from suggested/recommended course reading lists if there are any

each month read a book completely unrelated to academics, something that distracts me or that feeds my soul or both (or if i can't do that, then just 1 such book each semester, i'm just after something rather than nothing)

🐝 productivity advice from one of my role models that i want to follow religiously this semester:

prioritize rest in order to think and act fast (10 hours of sleep! downtime! meditating! gentle exercise!)

schedule down to the minute but understand that as long as you're doing what you planned to do within the hour you planned to do it, you're good (that is assuming life doesn't happen and derail the entire day's plans but most days thankfully are not like that). give yourself lots of buffer (bigger, not smaller blocks of time in the calendar!).

understand that prioritizing means that you may fall behind in the unprioritized areas from time to time and have to catch up and that's completely expected and completely fine.

be selective about what you're "perfectionistic" with (it's not really about applying perfectionism, more like being picky about where you apply extreme conscientiousness). that is also part of prioritizing.

✏️ post schedule: 1-3x a week depending on time, energy, and what that means for my mental state 😅

#cottagecore aesthetic #cottage aesthetic #cozycore #stemblr #studyspo #studyblr #study motivation #med studyblr #goal setting #astudentslifebuoy #heydilli #heyfrithams #becoming that girl #100dop #100 days of productivity #100 days of studying #100 days of self discipline

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tenjikufag · 3 months ago

Note

Got to thinking, a thunkle-ing if you will; not so a request but me chucking a ball of something at you and getting opinion

So, I've seen lots of fics where the reader is already familiar with the fun times, Laios opposite to them

I LEGITIMATELY would like to think if both were virgins that their first time would more so be, scientific and nerdy LMAO in the best way means

Idk, feel like it'd be a odd thing of, Laios is book based, on how it goes or the "effects", reader more-so through word from other folks (probably same w/Laios but eh), but it turns more into a poke and prod session than anything 'what's this do? Oh cool wowzas' but fun no less

That, or I'm easily swayed into getting all science-y and stuff XD

OOOO I like this idea and I’ve thought about it atleast a handful of times!!

Read under the cut! AMAB anatomy used. Switch!Laios and Reader !! NSFW, MDNI

Virgin Laios is sooooo realistic, far more than him having any experience imo- come on, the man’s social queues are barely there to have friendships outside of falin and the party; definitely not getting anywhere near romantic or intimate until it came to you.

Virgin YOU, oh you guys are fun to write. I adore when I get to write you guys as pent up little freaks.

The two of you being nerds and barely working up to being partners is one thing, intimacy is a whole other ball game! As you mentioned, he would look at it like an “experiment” of sorts. I have no doubt that he’d acquired a couple porn mags/books from browsing the romance section with Marcille- he’s an all around learner but visuals are always nice!

The faint arousal he’d feel reading said smut (all in the name of research) is about as close as he gets to actually touching himself before he met you; someone he would trust enough to experiment with. He’s not stupid, he knows what sex is he’s just never done it before! It’s nerve-wracking and despite how bold and nonchalant this big guy can be, it still burns a blush across his pale skin up to the tips of his ears!

I also imagine that it wouldn’t be full blown sex right off the bat, more so ‘sessions’, periods of ‘study’.

Laios had it on his mind, there’s no doubt. The two of you had discussed it in passive conversations but never really.. delved into it. Both virgins who knew the respected counterpart was in the same playing field.

Imagine it as your typical one on one “study”, typical banter of ideas bouncing around.

Happened to read into mating rituals of different monsters, intently scribing the words of their anatomy into your notebooks.

“I wonder what it feels like..”

It doesn’t take a genius to know how this goes, I’ll let you imagine the scenario and conversation leading up to it.

—

It would start out with mutual masturbation, jerking off infront of eachother and observing every sweet sound that left either of your mouths. Uncut, cut, whatever you had, it didn’t matter or keep the slick sounds from furnishing the room.

Moving on, breaking the barrier of only touching yourselves-

You’d pump each others dicks together, trying to match the pace of the others hand- it wasn’t a race, neither of you lasted long regardless.

FROTTING.

Rubbing your dicks against each other, the friction far more satisfying than a hand could be- unknowingly building your staminas with the desperate ruts against each other.

He was the first to take the plunge into oral, having slyly tasted himself or even you from what dribbled onto his fingers. It was intoxicating, that’s putting it lightly.

Of course, no experience means there was lots of training needed. ‘Research’ as he’d say, trying to learn how to control his gag reflex, trying to keep himself from instinctively biting down just because something was in his mouth. You tasted so good though, he couldn’t help himself so expect teeth dragging across you- whether you’re into it or not, you don’t have a choice early on. And vice-versa of course! Maybe without the infatuation with the taste of him, well.. maybe just not to the degree he experiences..

But when you end up on the giving end, he’s white knuckled and baring down on his shirt to keep himself quiet- expect big loads from this guy. And expect them to come quick.

Now, down to the nitty and gritty. Because that’s what it is.

All the porn and smutty stories could only prepare you so much for the feeling of your ass being metaphorically torn open.

You’re the first to try it out, admitting to having tried to play with your ass in the past but never getting anywhere. It was slow, painfully so. Tears in your eyes and Laios clutching his jaw painfully tight to keep himself from busting with just the head of his dick inside.

When it came to him, obviously he knew what and how to prepare after the fiasco you experienced..(poor you). Came with far more lube and had read about how to ‘open’ himself up to make it easier.

And he adored how it felt.

It was better than feeling full off of his favourite meal.

The two of you lasted far longer when it came to him bottoming- even if it wasn’t that long, it was progress as satisfying to the both of you.

Sessions would continue between each other.

The two of you took each others virginities, and basically all of the other firsts you’d imagine. Now that’s a job well done!

Patience, preparation, and studying rewards those who wait or whatever the saying is.

I hope we are on the same wavelength, if not tell me more about what your thoughts are- I’d loveeee to hear them.

#laios hcs #laios x male reader #laios headcanons #laios touden x reader #laios touden x male reader #laios x you #Laios Touden x you #laios x reader #dunmeshi Laios x reader #dunmeshi x male reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x male reader #delicious in dungeon x male reader

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 5 months ago

Text

The Ghost From The Barrow

Source for pic

Word Count: 6049

Tags: Fem!Reader, NSFW - Oral - you giving and creampie, alternate universe - Scotland, 13th century - cursing, angst, angst without happy ending, gore, blood, death, MDNI!!! 🔞

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You are the daughter of a clan chief in the Highlands, though you are more trouble than you are worth. Some thugs capture you and attempt to demand a ransom, but things don't exactly go their way when their leader, Kid, discovers what you are truly made of.

Notes: This was heavily inspired by the song “The Ghost From The Barrow” by Paddy and the Rats. It was going to go in a very different direction, much similar to the lyrics of the song, but the story took its own turn and I liked it like this! I hope you do too. Also, the research I did was very shallow, so if you're from Scotland and I got something wrong, I'm so sorry! Also, I had to go with Kilt wearing Kid. 🥴🤤 Have fun!

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 (if you don't want to be tagged for other stories other than the meet-cute, please tell me!)

Sidenote: I used a real sigil for the reader’s clan: Clan MacKenzie.

Terms:

Barrow - An ancient burial mound;

Tartan - A woolen cloth with a specific design associated to a specific clan;

Laird - A lord, someone who owns a large estate;

The early morning mist left a familiar dampness upon your hair. Rolling hills of verdant expanse stretched lazily before you. Ancient stone markings of softly defined borders marked one pasture from another, the neighbours, practically family, not caring if the cattle meandered from one side to the other. Heavy tendrils of fog still permeated the mountains and mounds above and you had to cut your morning walk short. You knew those barrows like the back of your hand, but the legends of ancient restless souls still lurked freshly in your mind.

Turning back around, you gathered the skirts of your woollen dress, which hung loosely over your chemise, so you wouldn’t wet the hem of the dress this early in the day. You wore the clan’s tartan over your shoulders to protect you from the earlier chill. The blues and greens of the plaid fabric contrasted heavily with the simple brown you chose to wear. Your mother would be sick to her stomach upon your sight, once more. You were the unruly daughter, the one that could not be tamed and you knew your parents cursed the day you were born.

As wild as the Highlands, as stubborn as a mare. Your father used to jest that no man would ever want you for a wife because you were not docile enough to be domesticated. Respect came with a heavy price in your household and you held your tongue back from lashing at him. But the sting his words left upon you was enough to completely destroy the bundle of hay you used to practise your archery shots.

Your father was a laird of the most prominent households of the Highlands, and the current head of the clan. You were the daughter of the chief. You were supposed to act with the status that your lineage carried. Except you very rarely did. And you had the nagging feeling your father wished to have killed you at birth, as they do with unwanted kittens.

This was a day like any other. You fled your castle without the consent of your family, escaping through one of the many passages you knew by heart, so you could absorb the peace that the morning brought you. The eerie quietness of the barrows, the rustles of the leaves from the forest and, here and there, the lonesome call of the ravens.

Your father had warned you a million times not to leave without guards.

Your mother had forbidden you a million and one times from walking out the door at all.

Your older brother had always counselled you to take your bow anywhere you went.

You heeded none of them.

Yet, it was still with some surprise and with a heavy pounding of your heart, that you realised you were being surrounded. Four mighty horses as black as the night approached fast, their nostrils flaring and smoking. You didn’t even try to outrun them for it would have been an impossible task. The men mounting them surrounded you quickly, using the horses to keep pacing a tight circle around you. There were grins on their faces, each taller than the last, each scarier.

Scars and untreated wounds, long unkempt hair, one even had a rudimentary mask over his face. They were terrifying. You searched for a tartan but the plaids they wore belonged to no clan. You had never seen the yellow and black in any of your father’s gatherings and the sigil they wore was clearly one of outcasts and thieves: a burning skull with the same yellow and black plaid tied to the head.

“What do we have here?” The one in the mask asked, his voice thick with delight, a hint of a mischievous smile you were not privy to.

“A little lass, eh?” The tallest one replied. He was the only one without a smile on his face, his voice thundering around you.

“She seems sweet.” The one with hollow eyes and scars on his mouth spoke softly.

Your hands shook and the shiver that coursed through you had nothing to do with the biting wind of the Highlands. The red-headed man pursed his lips as he looked you over. If they found out you were the chief’s daughter, you would surely be used as ransom bait.

Or worse.

Inhaling deeply, you fought to find your voice. “I am a mere villager, good sirs. I was going to collect some herbs for healing, nothing more. Some lavender and calendula. Chamomile to soothe aches. Please let me return to my home. I have young children to care for.” You tried your best to lace your voice with humility and sweetness, fighting against all of your instincts to spit at their feet and demand their heads for this outrage.

The one who spoke with a soft voice smiled at you. “Poor thing, she looks scared, Captain.” He was looking at the redhead. He was the leader then. So he was the one you had to reason with.

“Yes, Captain, I am so very frightened. Please, I just want to return home.” Trying your best to look terrified - which wasn’t that hard since you were frightened - you warmed your features and fell to your knees, adding dramatics to your reaction.

“Maybe we should let her go.” The one with the mask replied, tilting his head to one side. “She does look like a commoner.”

The captain dismounted his horse and you gulped as he approached you. He was tall and bulky, with an impressive figure. His lips were tinted red and he wore a piece of cloth on his head to keep the hair out of his eyes with the same yellow and black plaid of their sigil. His kilt was of dark brown plaid, resembling dried blood, and his legs were as thick as logs.

“Sir…” You whimpered and tried to appear small. His face kept drawing near and you held your breath as his cloak slipped and you realised he was missing an arm. “Please…” Another whimper.

His lips pursed further as he raised an eyebrow and he sniffed you.

A gasp left your lips at the outrage and your cheeks flushed crimson. How dared he? His hand darted forward and he pulled the tartan off your chest, revealing the brooch you had on your dress, the one with your father’s sigil: a mountain in flames with the words ‘I shine, not burn’ engraved.

His lips pulled back to reveal a frightening set of sharp canines and he finally spoke. It was akin to a roar and it managed to bristle all the hairs on your body. “Take her, ya fools. She smells clean. She’s highborn, for sure.”

You made sure the whole of the Highlands heard you screaming and you wouldn’t go down without a proper fight. You bit and sank your nails into flesh, you kicked and punched all while sputtering curses upon curses over the group. Vile words, not fit for a lady of your status, filled with hate, brimming with rage.

And they all laughed at you.

Your efforts were for naught. You were easily captured.

-*-

You were held like a sack of potatoes, hanging limply over the masked man’s shoulder. They had subdued you easily and tied your hands behind your back. You were still kicking, so with more rumbling laughs, they tied your feet for good measure.

They rode with you on their horses for the entire day, placing a blindfold over your eyes to disorient you to where their hideout was. You were passed around from mount to mount - never to the leader’s horse, though - as if you were a plaything and a new toy for them to play with.

You should be trembling with fear, yet all the trembling came from pure rage. You wanted to punch something, claw, bite, anything! This feeling of helplessness was overwhelming and intensified by the second.

The masked man set you down ungracefully by a fire and removed the blindfold, making you blink to adjust your vision.

“Here we are, lass. Make yourself at home.” He chuckled low and you gritted your teeth. They hadn’t roughed you up, but you were still sore from the daylong horse ride. Your throat was dry and your lips were cracked.

“Can…” You cleared your throat to find your voice again, but it was raw from screaming. “Can I get some water?”

He tsked and turned his back on you, leaving you slumped and looking defeated. Your wrists and ankles were sore from the tightness of the rope and you were pretty sure there was blood as well.

They left you alone in that position for a while, until the man with the scars on his mouth approached you slowly. Using a knife, he cut the ropes from your ankles and then the ones on your wrists.

Whimpering you brought your hands close to your chest and rubbed your wrists softly. You were right, they were bloodied and bruised.

“Here.” He extended a wooden bowl filled with water, which you immediately downed with a heavy sigh.

“Thank you.” You mumbled noticing your voice was less coarse now.

He smiled softly and took out some mashed herbs from a leather pouch, applying the mixture to your wrists. You could smell lavender, calendula and yarrow in the mixture. Someone knew what they were doing, for they were healing herbs.

“You did this?” You asked softly. Clearly this man was the one you could easily approach since all the others were too closed off. He nodded proudly and you patted his hand. “Thank you. What’s your name?” You gave him your name as well so he felt more confident in sharing his.

“I’m Heat.”

“That is a lovely name. Thanks for helping me, Heat.” Another smile. Maybe you could work him well enough to flee.

“Get away from her.” The leader’s orders made Heat stiffen up and he got up with a slight jump, leaving your side without looking back.

“I know what yer doing, lil’ lass.” His thick accent became more enunciated because he was angry, you noticed. So you decided to make him angrier and see where that would get you. Crossing your arms over your chest, you offered him your best annoyed look.

“I’m afraid I do not know what you mean. Thug.” You finished with a smirk.

Grunting, his lips curled upwards, drawing that dangerous smile that made your heart pound.

“Ya want to domesticate my men, lil’ lass, ya can’t! They obey my command.” His figure towered over yours and he was intimidating you. Wincing in pain and discomfort, you got up, still nowhere near his face, fists clenched into tiny little balls of fury as your eyes sparkled with rage.

“What do you want from me? A ransom? Well, send the letter! I’m sure my father will be more than happy to pay you scoundrels to get me back! Or do you not know how to write?” You stomped your foot right in the middle of his parted legs and stood almost flush to his frame, a snide crossing your lips, taunting him. “I’m not afraid of you!”

Yet, you were. Pretty scared, actually. Even more so because you doubted your father would care enough about you to pay a ransom.

You could feel rage seething from his body in short waves. His orange eyes flaming like burning fire, the same fire you felt coursing through your veins in defiance. He gave no warning as his hand wrapped around your throat, tight enough to prevent almost all of the air from coursing freely, enough to leave a bruise, but not enough to truly hurt and cut your air supply.

He lifted you up to his eye level easily, as your nails scratched and clawed at his forearm, leaving red angry trails on his skin, yet he showed no signs of being hurt by your flailing.

“Ya should be. Ya should be pissin’ yer pants.” His jaw kept clenching and unclenching as his eyes raked over your body. He took out his long, wet tongue and licked a stripe from your neck to your ear, making your insides burn and your legs clench together with want. “Tasty.” He grumbled as your eyes bore into his.

“Taste this, then.” You grunted between gasps and, clenching your own jaw, you bent your knee and hit him right in his balls, making him grunt and bend forward, letting go of your neck at the same time as he curled, his hand holding his dick tight.

You coughed and wheezed for air, falling on your knees and taking deep gasps to try and steady your breathing. Your hands pressed and soothed the burn in your throat.

“You lil’ whore!” He grumbled as he strode towards you again.

“I’ve been called worse!” You grinned with bravado you didn’t have, waiting for the blow to come, for his hand to strike, or his feet. Whatever he wanted to use, and you knew it would hurt. Your eyes shut in anticipation as your heart created its own insane rhythm in your chest.

Yet the blow didn’t come.

All you heard was the leader’s rumbling laugh echoing in the forest as he paced away from you.

-*-

Days passed and you remained a prisoner. They left you unbound because there was no way you could ever escape their watch. Heat brought you food and water and sometimes talked with you, when the leader wasn't around to scold him.

You learned that the letter had been sent to your father, yet he still hadn't responded. So they sent another one.

There was a feeling of dread coiling around your stomach. What if your father didn’t want to pay your ransom? You had more brothers and sisters. What good would a bratty child who obeyed no orders do in his household? Perhaps it was better for him to say that you lost your life to the whims of thieves.

It might even grant him more support.

You spent a restless night worrying about this and you cried your heart out. Heat noticed your forlorn expression and defeated demeanour in the morning and returned to you with clean clothes. A plain dress and a worn out man’s shirt. You looked at him warily until he grabbed your hand and led you to the forest.

For a moment you thought he might be setting you free. A rush of happiness spread its tendrils across your heart and you grinned. Until you realised he was only taking you to a lake.

He seemed so happy, though, that you still smiled softly at him. “You can bathe.” He whispered your name softly. “I’ll keep watch.”

His offer was tempting. There was grime under your fingernails, caked blood on your wrists, knees and ankles and your hair… you didn’t even want to get started on your hair.

So you thanked him politely and he turned to give you some privacy, leaving a bundle of soapwort in your hands. A plant that, if wet, creates a lather that can cleanse grime and leave a nice herbal scent behind. You were sure he would turn around as soon as you took off your clothes, but he was still the sweetest of the thugs and you had warmed up to him. You doubted he would try something with you.

Leaving your stained clothes in a pile so you could wash them later, you dipped your toes in the water. It was ice cold, despite the warm weather outside. Still, you really needed to bathe. So, closing your eyes, you dove gracefully, emerging only once the burn settled against your lungs from lack of air.

Letting out an unbridled laugh, you splashed a bit of water before using the soapwort plant to cleanse yourself properly. You used it on your hair as well and, after a little bit, you started to make your way back so you could wash your clothes. You didn’t want to take too long in the lake because you didn’t want to cause any trouble for Heat.

However, the sight that greeted you when you turned around made you freeze as your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat. The leader, the captain. He was staring at you, his back leaning against the trunk of a tree and his lips pursed. Heat was nowhere to be found. He must have discovered both of you here and sent Heat away.

You swallowed a lump in your throat but made no motion to cover yourself. Your breasts were out of the water, nipples erect from the cold and goosebumps all over your skin. He was close enough to see the way you were shivering and the way your chest rose with each gasping breath.

He pulled away from the tree and with nimble fingers began to untie his kilt. First the knot over his shoulder, then he started untucking the sides until it finally fell down in a heap. The shivers that shook your body now had definitely nothing to do with the chilliness of the lake. He took a long stride forward and with one swift movement of his arm, the shirt came off.

Biting your lower lip you took in his muscular form. He was bulky and heavy, built like a strong bull. His chest was made of ripped muscles and heavy scars. Lowering your eyes, you couldn't stop your thighs from clenching together, seeking some friction. His cock was big, girthy and already half hard. It would be monstrous at full length.

He took off the cloth holding his hair back and finally entered the water with a hiss. His eyes never left you nor did yours leave him.

You were no stranger to desire and intercourse. You were the chief's daughter, but you were no maiden. And what you felt for your captor now was true, unbridled desire. And you could see that he felt the same toward you.

Would either of you act upon it?

Shaking your head and gulping, you strode forward, aiming to leave the lake, perhaps? Yet he blocked your path easily. The water hit him around the knees and a quick look down told you he was now standing at full attention.

Screw it.

You were wound as tight as a rope and release would probably do you some good. Besides, he seemed like a good lay.

You approached him, slowly climbing out to the shallow part of the lake, the water lowering until he could see your mound. His lips curled up and he licked them at a leisurely pace.

“Kneel, lil’ lass.” He grunted and, for once, you obeyed him willingly.

Falling forward on your knees, you wasted no time. Using your hands to pump his cock a few times, you gathered the precum at the top and then used your tongue to lather it around his girth. He hummed low when you brought your other hand to cup his balls and squeeze.

“Fuck. That's good.”

His praise made you mewl into him as you hollowed your cheeks and fought against the gag reflex to take all of him inside your mouth. It was a stretch, but you could do it.

Hissing, he tangled his fingers in your wet hair, holding your head in place as he took over and fucked your mouth with relentless thrusts. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes when his tip bullied the back of your throat. Heat began pooling in your abdomen, its tendrils spreading slowly and steadily, burning at your core, demanding attention.

You used one hand to grab his thick, hairy thighs for purchase, and another to friction against your throbbing clit, moaning into him, the vibrato of your mewls making him fasten his pace with sloppier thrusts. “Fuck, fuck. Open wide lass.” And that was all the warning you got before his thick, salty cum dripped down your throat as you swallowed and he pulled out, a small string of saliva connecting him to you still.

He stared at your face, swollen lips, teary eyes and jaw standing open as your hand continued to press and circle against your clit, small moans leaving your parted lips.

“Fuck. C’mere.” Resting his large hand on your chin, he motioned for you to stand up, and you obeyed. He pried your fingers away from yourself and pressed your hand so you could spread them open. A string of your own slick connected your index and middle fingers and you blushed. The Captain chuckled and swirled his tongue around them, collecting any remaining drops of your juices as you gasped and stifled a moan. “Hmm, none of that lil’ lass. Yer going to scream my name. Don't ye dare hold back.”

“I don't know your name.” You said, your eyes sparkling with mischievousness.

Curling his lips back, he grasped your wet hair again, pulling you for an open mouthed kiss, combining your juices with the lingering taste of his cum until your head was spinning and begging for air. “It's Kid.” He panted as he pulled apart from you.

“Fuck me, Kid.” Your hand found his cock already hard again and you had no doubt that this man had the stamina of a horse.

“Will do, lass.” His fingers dug into your mound and you moaned as they descended to your swollen clit. “Let's see how ready ye are for me.” His fingers were long and thick and as he inserted one inside you to collect some slick, you arched your back and rolled your hips against his touch. “Hmm, needy, are ye?”

He rolled his wet finger against the bundle of nerves and then inserted two digits, stretching them and then letting them go further, deeper. Your nails dug into his chest as your head fell back in abandonment. “Kid!” You panted, his fingers filling you up deliciously. A gasp left you breathless as he inserted a third finger, using his thumb to press against your clit as he stretched you further. “Gods! Kid!”

“I know, lass, I know.” He grunted near your ear and the deep rumbling that came from his voice made you snap as you came in his hand. Arching your back and clawing his chest you moaned loud, repeating his name in a crescendo as you reached your high. “That was a good one, lass.” He sucked at your neck and bit hard to bring you back but you mewled again as you leaned into him, too dazed out to do anything else.

But he was not done. Using his arm, he lifted you up and with a swift motion, impaled his cock inside your slick hole, making you scream as you clenched your legs around his waist.

“Hold on, lass, this will be a rough ride.” His digits dug into your flesh as his arm circled your hips holding you in place as he pounded relentlessly, his pace brutal, and you didn't know how he could stay standing up because you could barely open your eyes, let alone stand.

The pleasure built in waves that kept crashing and chasing away your sanity. You had never been fucked like this before. Captain Kid was fucking you senseless. Your pants increased in fervour as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to coming again. His dick filled you perfectly and hit spots inside you that made you see white.

“Kid, fuck, gods!”

“Scream louder!” He growled and thrust faster, making your toes curl as you crushed him in a hug, thighs clenching tight against him and nails drawing blood from his back. You did scream. Loud as a banshee and you were positive his entire camp heard you scream his name like a whore.

His release was not far behind, and you knew that because there were beads of sweat on his temples, his thrusts were sloppier and he was grunting heavily. But you were so close again. “Harder.” You begged against his ear, your fingers circling your burning and overstimulated clit, trying to chase that last high.

“Lil’ whore.” He growled and gave you what you wanted. Three fast thrusts that made you shake and come with a flash of white as he followed suit. You felt his release inside you, filling you up and dripping down your legs into the lake in soundly, heavy plops.

You were still clinging to him like he was your lifeline, both panting and sweating, chests heaving and legs trembling.

“I'm putting ya down, now.” He said between pants and you whined when he pulled out of you, leaving you empty. You were not steady on your legs so he still held your waist.

“Fuck.” You muttered, still catching your breath, a wave of dizziness overcoming your senses.

“I thought maidens didn't curse.” He chuckled.

“Yeah? Well, maidens don't suck cocks either. So why do you think I'm one?” His genuine laughter made your heart tingle and constrict against your chest and you were not quite sure what this foreign feeling was. What you did know was that you wanted to hear it again.

-*-

Days passed, yet you didn't really think you were a prisoner anymore. You slept with Kid every night and he took you whenever he felt like it, making good on the claim that you were his good little whore. You couldn't care less. You felt free.

One night, after screaming his name until your throat was raw - you've come to realise he loves it when you scream his name - you asked him bluntly.

“My father refused to pay the ransom, did he not?” The scoff that left your throat was meant to be dismissive and aloof, yet there was also the bitter taste of tart tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

“Aye.” He grunted as he pulled your naked body closer to his. “I'm sorry.”

You didn't want his compassion, it wasn't what you were looking for. Yet, it felt nice. As if you meant something more to him than just his prisoner whore.

“I was never good for anything but to cause trouble for him, anyway. Like this he doesn't need to find me a husband.” You snorted. “You know what I did to the last one he tried to set me up with? The one who said I couldn't be ‘domesticated’?” Kid's gaze fell on yours, an amused expression wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “I bit off his balls when he tried to fuck me into submission.” Shrugging, you threw out your tongue as Kid burst into a fit of laughter.

“Aren't ya a feisty lil’ lass?” His chest heaved until his laughter died down. You felt droopy and your eyes started to close, drifting closer and closer to sleep. “Maybe ya can be my wife. We'll see if I can domesticate ya.”

You didn't quite know if he was kidding or not, but sleep claimed you with a smile on your lips at the thought of being Kid's wife.

-*-

You were woken up in the middle of the night by loud screams and the clangs of swords and axes. Kid wasn't by your side when you rolled over and got up, hastily dressing in your chemise and dress. It sounded like a battle, so you grabbed the bow you kept by your side of the bed. Kid made you that bow once he realised you were very good with it.

You had been by his side for over a year now. He made you his wife, as he said he would, and there were more nights when you actually made love instead of just fucking.

You had come to love him. Deeply. And you were positive he loved you back, even though he wouldn't admit it to a soul. He would say love made you weaker or something like that. Times had been kind for your new clan and you had all found peace.

Yet that thought was quickly swept away once you stepped outside of your hut and were greeted with the sight of burning buildings, slaughtered people and Kid and his men fighting.

Gripping your bow harder and tighter, you found a secluded perch by climbing onto the roof of the hut and started to take out man after man. They didn't even realise what happened until they were left bleeding on the floor, meeting their final demise at the hands of one of Kid's men or Kid himself, who saw you immediately when an arrow whizzed past his ear.

It wasn't until the tenth body hit the floor that you realised that these men belonged to your father's clan. Their tartan was clearly the pattern you were so familiar with. That realisation gave away your location and in a heartbeat you were being dragged by your hair, your body hitting the ground with a loud oof, as the air was sucked out of your lungs. As the assailant grabbed his sword, ready to pierce you with the blade, you kicked him hard in the shin and you heard the sickening crunch of bone breaking before he screamed.

Getting up with a pained grunt, you realise that you must also have broken a few ribs as you were pulled down from the roof, because it hurt to breathe. Still clutching your bow to your chest, you made your way forward, shooting arrows as you went, aiding people in their escape. All the while your eyes were searching for Kid as your heart hammered against your chest. He was nowhere to be seen and that left you anxious.

And distracted.

A sharp pain travelled from your thigh to your groin and shot everywhere in short stabbing bursts of pain. There was a blade protruding from your leg and hot droplets of tears threatened to escape your eyes. “Fuck.” You grunted as you turned around, searching for whoever was responsible for this, bow stretched and arrow already in place.

“It's true, then.” The familiar voice of your brother left you breathless for a moment, making you lose your focus. “You really have become that scoundrel’s whore. I couldn't believe it until I saw it.”

Your jaw clenched as you inhaled short breaths, trying to focus on something other than the throbbing pain in your thigh. He was standing too close for a proper arrow shot and your vision was getting blurry. You would never make the shot even if you wanted to.

“I'm not his whore. I'm his wife.” You spat at him, rage making your voice tremble.

Your brother's cackles were like another knife piercing your heart.

“That's precious. You're still dying. You're no longer family.”

And he lunged forward, sword raised in the air in a stance you'd known your whole life as you'd watched your brothers learn how to fight in the shadows. You knew when to duck, when to move away, and when to jump. He was predictable and his moves were still the same after all these years. You could win this.

If you weren't bleeding and your movements weren't impaired.

He struck forward and you knew you had to move left. It was all you had to do, really. But your leg gave out, and he stabbed his sword into your sternum.

You had never felt pain like this before. It started slowly, in the middle of your chest, but then, as if in waves, it began to spread, leaving you numb and cold. As you fell to your knees, you could see the snicker spreading on your brother's lips. Until it turned into a grimace and blood started to sputter from his mouth as he grunted.

There was a heavy blade sticking out of his chest, followed by a pained grunt as the sword climbed up his torso, ripping him in two right before your eyes.

You saw the panting figure of Kid behind him, his breaths coming out in shaken gasps as his face contorted into a pained frown when he laid eyes on you. “No! No, no, no!”

He rushed forward, letting his blade fall to the ground, and his arm circled you desperately.

You were dying. You knew that.

A smile found its way to your blood-stained lips as your eyes locked with bright orange ones. Caressing his cheek left a red streak of blood on his skin, but it was quickly washed away by a stream of tears from his eyes.

“Hey, no crying.” You whispered slowly. The pain was drifting away. “Thank you.”

“No, no. Ye can't leave lil’ lass! I didn't give ya permission!”

Your chuckle turned into a coughing fit, blood spurting everywhere as Kid cradled you in his big arm. Around you shouts were heard, soldiers sounding the retreat. The threat had been thwarted for now.

“Kid.” Your voice could barely be heard, but you needed to get his attention. “Kid, please. Don't hold a grudge. Please.” You whined and closed your eyes as the numbness relented and gave way to the pain.

He pulled you against him, trying to hold you carefully but, at the same time, holding you firmly as if it were the last time - it was the last time - his kilt was now completely soaked in your blood.

“Promise me.” You said firmly, your hand trying to find his cheek again, but failing miserably as you could barely find the strength. “Grudges create lost souls. I can't have you away from me in the afterlife. Promise.” You admonished him.

He nodded against your face, taking your lips with his, trying to stifle a sob as his shoulders heaved and rocked with the effort.

“I love you…” Your whisper got lost somewhere in the limbo of eternity as the sparkle of life burned away in your eyes. There was a moment of stillness, Heat, Killer and Wire gathered behind Kid, still as logs. The forest ceased its rustling, and even the animals stopped their sounds. The world stopped spinning when you left it, and Kid lost a piece of himself.

It was his piercing agonising scream that brought the world back, crashing into rotation, but never the same.

-*-

Kid didn't really promise you not to hold a grudge. He just nodded. And even if he had made a promise, he was a thief and a scoundrel. Lying was a part of him.

He did hold a grudge.

A huge one. He hunted down every single member of your family and slaughtered them all. No one associated with your clan was left alive to tell the tale. Be they elderly or children, Kid was merciless.

He would not rest until his vengeance was fulfilled. He had never felt love the way he did for you. He had never felt affection the way he did for you.

And he had never grieved harder.

If he was suffering, those that caused that suffering should be put to the same misery.

And he fulfilled that vow. Until he was caught and sentenced to hang in the gallows.

Yet, he would hang with a smile upon his tainted lips. He had avenged you. None of your clan was left alive to tell the tale, he had made sure of it. And he was hopeful that once his body turned cold and lifeless, he would meet you, in the afterlife.

So you could spend eternity together, as it should have been.

The clock struck the hour and Kid was hanged. Killer, Wire and Heat stood watching, heads low and hidden behind cloaks, as their captain paid the price of vengeance.

Killer was proud of his fearless friend.

Wire was saddened that it ended this way.

Heat was worried, because he knew vengeful spirits could not find rest in eternity.

Heat was right.

The spirit of Eustass Captain Kid roamed the Highlands. A ghoulish spectre haunting the barrow, searching for his lost wife, forever aiming to find her in the eternity of the afterlife.

Yet she had warned him.

Grudges create lost souls.

So if you find yourself roaming any barrow in the Highlands, whether at night or during the day, know that the wailing you hear is that of the captain, grieving his lost love and the life he was denied.

Though he avenged her in the end.

But at what cost?

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