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yelenasbraid · 2 days ago

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maintaining professionalism pt. 1 — joe burrow

mini series summary — She’s a witty, stubborn athletic trainer for the Cincinnati Bengals. He’s the star quarterback who can’t take his eyes off of her. The more she works with him, the stronger the magnetic pull. She’ll do anything to maintain professionalism, and he’ll do anything to get the girl.

chapter summary — it’s the first day of offseason workouts, and joe has the ultimate pleasure of working with you.

warnings — fem!reader, general grumpiness, hints of pining, teeny bits of enemies to lovers, not proof-read

tags — @starsinthesky5 @definitelynotdomanique @majestic87 @joeyb1989 @belleann23 @wickedfun9 @hannahjessica113 @kravitzwhore @musicforsnoopy @burreauxss @noeesd19 @grandpeachpersona @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @joeyburrrow @joeyfranchise @starkeyswomen @wellwellhereiam @xbriexx @grittysbiggestfan @dboanalagoaaoo @kazsbrckkers

note — this is so long overdue oh my god i’m so sorry

Offseason, 2024

THE BEAUTY OF WAKING UP EARLY was the sunrise. That was it. The purple, orange, and yellow hues that painted the sky were a highlight, but the sluggish, heavy feeling in your bones wasn’t.

It was the first day of offseason workouts. After months of being off, enjoying the ability to sleep in and lounge around your apartment, getting up at 6am wasn’t fun. While you loved your job, the early mornings weren’t it. Especially because half of the Bengals players were morning people.

You rolled out of the warmth of your bed, the coolness of your bedroom nipping at your skin. Your toes curled as you walked into the bathroom, your arms hugging yourself. Your mind was fuzzy, drifting to your agenda today as you brushed your teeth, brushed your hair, and got ready for the day.

The worst part about being an athletic trainer for the Cincinnati Bengals was the fact that the quarterback was sculpted by the gods. It was annoying. It irritated you beyond belief. Joe Burrow, at least, wouldn’t be bothering you this early. He wasn’t a morning person, thank God.

You slid a Bengals baseball cap over your head, grabbed your bag and walked out of your bedroom. You grabbed your keys, and walked to your car.

The drive wasn’t bad. It was quiet, the sunrise helping with your sour mood. You pulled into the stadium, parking your car. You usually were one of the first people there. It happened once, and now it was habit.

You got out, grabbing your things and walked out of the parking lot. You noticed one other car: Joe’s. You should have figured he’d be there early. In the three years you’ve worked with the Bengals, Joe showed up to practice every single day, early. He was at workouts crazy early. With his wrist injury, and him being officially on rehab, him being early didn’t surprise you.

You walked into the facility, enveloped in the coolness of the air. You walked silently past several rooms, several offices, until you reached yours on the second floor. It was small, no windows, but it had a desk, chairs in front of it, and a small table for your coffee machine.

You barely had time to set your stuff down before a knock came to your door.

“Hey, uh, I had a question,” your eyes flicked to the blonde, 6’4, lady-killer of a quarterback. He was dressed in his Seinfeld sweats, a baby pink hoodie adorning his body. He looked soft, not like the quarterback who everyone was afraid of.

“It’s 7 in the morning Joe, and I just got here, what is it?” you asked him, pulling your laptop out of your bag. He knew you were sour in the mornings, and he’s learned to not take it personal.

“I’ve been looking for KT tape, you have some?” he asked you taking a step into your office. You were a KT tape enthusiast. You used it all the time whenever you did sports in high school, and you saw the benefits of it.

“I should,” you hummed, opening the drawers of your desk, “why, do you want to use some?” you asked, pulling out several rolls.

“No, Tee mentioned wanting some,” he answered, and you flicked your eyes back up to him. Your eyebrows raised, a small scoff leaving your lips.

“Tee isn’t here for another 30 minutes,” you told him, “so why couldn’t he come and get some?” you asked. The best defense against finding Joe attractive was being too uptight, borderline mean. You took professionalism seriously, and it was stressed when you were hired.

“He asked me to have some ready,” he answered. You were a hard-ass, and in the mornings he knew better than to ask stupid questions. Any time he knew better than to ask stupid questions. He crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes glued to you, not paying attention to how the light of the room hugged your body, or how your clothes outlined your muscles.

“Right,” you replied, “well I’ve got several types. Extra strength, half-pieces, full-length pieces, extra long pieces,” you listed, your fingers flitting over the different rolls you had.

“He never said what he needed,” he shrugged. Your eyes flicked up to his, your eyebrows raised.

“You’re proving my point of why he should have come up here,” you retorted, grabbing an extra strength roll and tossing it at him. Joe caught it with ease, his eyes still on you. He knew he should have just told Tee to see you himself, but Joe was stubborn too. He wanted to see you.

Maybe he was regretting that a bit.

“He asked me to, did you want me to say no?”

“Uh, yeah. I don’t think Tee would have thought that would be a weird answer,” you quipped back, crossing your arms over your chest. The relationship you had with Joe was a weird one. There were times you got along perfectly with him, and other times, your attitude drove the bus.

“Whatever, I’ll be sure to let him know to tell you thank you for your time,” Joe sassed, and you rolled your eyes. As he walks out of your office, you couldn’t stop your eyes from watching the muscles in his back ripple, or how his ass fit perfectly in those shorts.

You needed to seriously get a grip.

—

He honestly didn’t understand why he kept going back to you. You were good at your job, that was the truth, but you were a hard-ass. Your biting words, the way you looked him up and down, it drove him crazy. Yet, he still found himself going to you out of everyone for help.

“I ain’t gonna lie,” Tee stated as they walked to the practice field, “she might have an attitude, but she’s a damn good trainer, Joe.”

“I know,” Joe sighed, swinging his helmet, “just why her?”

“Man, if I knew how feelings worked, I’d be the smartest man in the world. I wish I knew, but I don’t,” Tee clapped him on the shoulder as they walked onto the field, the hot sun beating down on them. His eyes first found you, as they always did. You talked with some of the other trainers, and he caught a laugh. An actual laugh escaped your throat, and it was the most intoxicating sound he’d heard.

“You’re down bad, ya know,” Ja’marr spoke up, and Joe just playfully shoved him.

“I am not,” Joe defended, but Ja’marr wasn’t wrong. Despite the attitude you seemed to only give him, he kept coming back to you. His mind was filled with the image of you, and he hated it. He shouldn’t be focusing on you, a damn athletic trainer. He needed to be focused on rehab, on getting back to 100%. It didn’t help that you were there, watching him, tempting his eyes to drink in every curve and every contour.

Joe continued his march up to the field, his eyes flicking away and flicking back to you. There was just something about you, how you carried yourself, how fearless you were when it came to putting men twice your size in place. He didn’t know what it was, but he was drawn to you.

“Burrow,” his head snapped up, meeting your eyes. He shook himself out of his stupor, walking over to you, swinging his helmet as he did so. He was changed out of his Seinfeld sweats and hoodie, now in shorts and a compression tank top. Did he know what he was doing? Probably.

“What’s up?”

“First thing, how’s your wrist?” you asked him, crossing your arms over your chest. He forced his eyes to keep on your eyes, not wander down to the muscles in your arms, or how your thighs looked so perfect in your shorts.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged off. It was fine, he’d been cleared by his surgeon and his physical therapist to throw again. He felt fine.

“Just fine?” you asked him, and he could see the way your eyes dialed in on him, trying to see if he was lying. You knew he had a nasty habit of shoving away his physical feelings for the betterment of his performance. Because that makes sense.

“I’m doing splendidly, fantastically, amazingly, fine,” he was being dramatic, and he gave you a very dramatic look too. You rolled your eyes, the sass that Joe had making its way into your conversation. It was funny, if you were honest with yourself. His attitude wasn’t always a nightmare to work with.

“Better,” you chuckled as you shook your head. There was something about him, but you also knew that Joe had that effect on people. He was attractive, he was talented, and he knew how to use both of those aspects to his advantage. The coaches also knew, and they strictly told their athletic trainers and other female staff members to not engage romantically with the players. You didn’t need to read between the lines that tightly to see they meant specifically Joe Burrow.

“Secondly, about your recovery plan," you started, your eyes peering into his, "you're starting out slow today, throwing a grand total of 20 yards."

His eyes narrowed. He didn't like that he was having to limit himself, to rein himself in from being who he was before the injury. He worked his jaw, chewing on his bottom lip. He knew better than to argue with you, than to not follow the plan that you spent writing.

"Only 20?" He asked, his brows furrowing. You looked at him, seeing the subtle defiance in his eyes. You knew that he was used to being at practice, fully participating. You were aware that this was frustrating for him.

"Yes, only 20," You told him, turning around to walk towards the trainer's tent. He followed you, ducking under the tent. He understood that he needed to follow the recovery plan that he put into place, that it was pertinent to his recovery and his performance.

"Fine," he shrugged, setting his helmet down, his body shortening the distance between you. You didn't move, but your heart was pounding. You caught a whiff of his cologne, the sweet musk of it. You nodded your head at him, grabbing a ball and walking him out of the tent to the field.

—

Practice went smoothly. Joe threw as much as he could, testing your patience as much as he could. He walked back over to the bench, grabbing a water bottle from your hands. Huffing, he took a long swig. You took a sip of your own water bottle before you packed up the bag, shoving footballs and packing up water bottles.

His eyes couldn't help but wander. Your shirt clung to your body with the sweat on your skin, your shorts hugging your thighs even tighter. He shook his head running a hand through his hair. You were his athletic trainer, the relationship he had with you was supposed to be strictly professional. It didn't help that you matched his attitude, that you were confident, and it also didn't help that you were very easy on the eyes.

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #cincinnati bengals #nfl imagine #maintaining professionalism #mini series

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haitanghusky · 21 hours ago

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When I used to write and post, I liked to know when the chapters made someone feel something. Back in 2021 I posted an SPOP fic. It hardly got any views, and I was a little disheartened because I thought that at that time SPOP had been so big that people would have, like me, swarmed AO3 for fanfics to continue the journey. But my little corner of the fandom on the website remained untouched. The best comment I had received was "crying in da club" and it made me feel so much better that for at least one person, the intent of what I had written had stirred up emotions. The intention behind the fic was to explore the psychological impact between Catra and Adora that growing up in the Fight Zone and with Shadow Weaver would have had, the emotional impact that fighting in a war would have had, the choices they made, and learning with each other how to knock down walls they had built to keep themselves moving. To learn to lean on each other, and learn to communicate through the barriers they had erected long ago to keep themselves safe. It was also a glance at what PTSD could be for some, how it could manifest. It was a healing journey for not only the characters, but for me as well because of the life I had lived up to that point. And that one comment telling me that this person I didn't know had felt something from my writing made it all worth it.

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

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vunblr · 3 days ago

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Toy Soldier (part 3)

Bit by bit, torn apart. We never win, but the battle wages on for toy soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Smut. Dark Content: Sexual Assault Wounds (Bucky). Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Canon-Typical Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con (both characters as victims)

Summary: She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.

Word Count: 6.8.k.

notes: This chapter includes flashbacks to non-con situations. Please be mindful of your media consumption and take care of yourself. Passages containing this content are marked with ****** at the beginning and the end, in case you wish to skip them.

Previous Chapter

The next days passed uneventfully after the brawl at the bar. Every location listed in the government-provided intelligence was either empty or completely inconsistent with the reports. It felt like chasing ghosts, a frustrating pattern that left them all on edge.

By the end of the week, they were on a military plane heading back to New York. Sam leaned back in his seat, glancing idly at the other two. It didn’t take him long to notice that they were... talking.

Not in the awkward way of the first days, or the strictly mission-related conversations that followed. In fact, it wasn’t the body language he’d expect from two people who barely knew each other. Bucky’s body was more relaxed than Sam had seen in years while interacting with someone, and at one point, he caught a faint smile on Tinman’s face, a real smile.

What the hell happened between those two?

Asking Bucky directly wasn’t an option. The guy was like a human wall when it came to personal questions. He had learned long ago that pushing him only made him clam up more.

No, if he wanted answers, he’d have to go to the other source. She might be more willing to spill the details, especially if he caught her in a casual moment.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back in his seat. He’d find a chance to ask her soon, maybe over coffee. Whatever had happened on this mission had clearly done the impossible: it got the Winter Sulkier to actually drop the act.

His attention was drawn back when he noticed Bucky tense slightly, as his expression shifted while she asked him a question. She leaned toward him, perched on the edge of her seat, focusing on the phone he held in his hand. Sam, feigning a search through one of the nearby bags, edged closer to eavesdrop.

“See, you just tap here,” Bucky said, oddly patient, something Sam would’ve thought impossible coming from him. “Then swipe left to go back, or hit this button if you want to-”

“Wait, wait,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “So anyone can message me, or is it just the guys I pick if we... match?” Her brows furrowed, her tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

Sam’s eyes widened slightly. Is he teaching her how to use a dating app?

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Just the ones you match with,” he replied evenly. “But... don’t expect much. Most of these guys don’t know how to hold a conversation past ‘hey.’”

She snorted. “That’s it? No effort at all?” Then she tilted her head. “How’d it go for you, then? Using the app, I mean.”

Bucky shrugged, with a carefully neutral expression. “Tried it a little. Didn’t stick with it.”

She narrowed her eyes and the corners of her lips twitched in amusement. “You ‘tried it a little,’ huh? Because you seem to know a lot about it for someone who barely used it.”

He shot her a quick look before deadpan. “You pick things up.”

“Uh-huh.” She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms as she studied him. “Come on, you are handsome, you can’t tell me you didn’t get one match.”

“I got a few,” he admitted reluctantly, blushing slightly. “Didn’t go anywhere.”

“Why not?” she pressed.

He hesitated, and his discomfort was more noticeable now. His gaze quickly darted to Sam and then went back to her. “It’s all surface-level. A few pictures, some vague descriptions, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Her teasing expression softened at the shift in his tone. “Okay, fair. But isn’t that the point? It’s just supposed to be an icebreaker, right?”

“Maybe,” he muttered, leaning back in his seat. “But I’m not great at... small talk. And that’s all this is. Small talk that leads nowhere.”

Sam, who had been quietly watching, finally spoke up. “You’re not really helping her case, you know. You’re making this app sound like a deathtrap.”

Bucky shot him a glare. “It’s not a deathtrap. It’s just... not worth the hassle.”

She raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Well, I won’t know until I try it. Maybe I’ll get luckier. How different could it really be once you meet in person, like a traditional meetup?”

Before Bucky could respond, Sam chimed in from a few seats over, a mischievous smirk on his face. “Well, you should also know that you might receive some... unwanted pictures.”

She tilted her head, frowning. “Unwanted pictures? Like what?”

“Dicks,” Sam deadpanned, his expression unflinching.

“What?” she exclaimed. “Why would someone... Is that supposed to attract me? Like they think, ‘Oh, I’ll send her a dick pic, and she’ll say, sure, John, let’s go feed the ducks at the park?’”

Sam doubled over laughing, while Bucky shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “Yeah, uh... I forgot to mention the unwanted pictures,” he muttered.

She quirked a brow, and her lips twitched with amusement. “How is it for the guys? Did you get unwanted pictures too? Like, ‘Hey, handsome,’ and bam! Wet nipples pic?”

Bucky froze, his eyes widening slightly “I- what? No,” he stammered, his usual stoic mask cracking under her teasing.

Sam burst out laughing, leaning back in his seat. “Oh, man, you broke him.”

Bucky shot Sam a death glare, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “It’s not... That’s not how it works.”

“Oh, come on, someone must’ve tried.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, clearly wishing for the conversation to end. “No,” he said firmly. “Guys don’t get stuff like that. Not usually.”

Sam wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

“Glad I could entertain you,” Bucky muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, fixing his gaze firmly on the floor.

Sensing his discomfort now that Sam had jumped into the conversation, she decided to redirect the attention. She leaned slightly toward Sam, with a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

“Speaking of unwanted pictures,” she said casually, “remember when that agent flashed us his brand-new Prince Albert in the Rome safehouse? Because he thought it was infected and wanted me to take care of it?”

Sam choked on his laughter. “Oh, man, that guy! How could I forget?” He shook his head, still grinning. “I got traumatized. The guy showed it off like he was proud of it. Even with the swelling and all. And you…you just stood there like it was any other Tuesday.”

She shrugged, her expression deadpan. “What was I supposed to do? He dropped his pants before I even knew what was happening. First of all, you might find it hard to believe, but it wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a dick, and second, I’ve seen worse things over the years.” if he only knew how much worse.

Bucky’s frown deepened, snapping his sharp gaze at her. His jaw tightened, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, something dark and protective. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, coldly.

She glanced at him, startled by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “What?”

“That guy,” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dropping his pants like that. You’re a lady, for God’s sake.”

Sam burst out laughing again, “I hate to break it to you, but modern life’s not exactly full of boundaries, Buck. Especially when the dude thought his dick was going to fall off.”

Bucky ignored Sam’s laughter. “Still doesn’t mean it’s right.”

His gaze drifted, growing distant, and she knew exactly where it was traveling. The countless times Hydra had forced her to touch him in clinical detachment, to treat his groin marred by shrapnel, burns, and other injuries she’d long since pushed to the darkest corners of her memory. Also, that time when…

She clapped her hands suddenly, trying to steer the conversation away.

“Anyway, about the app-”

“Wait,” Sam interrupted, leaning forward with interest. “About that, last time I talked to you, you said you were dating some dude from the library. Some kind of meet-cute.”

Bucky’s attention snapped back to the conversation, as a strange, twisted feeling settled in his gut.

“Clearly, if I’m asking about the app, I’m not seeing him anymore,” she replied, with a certain edge.

“What happened?” Sam pressed, furrowing his brow. “You seemed interested in the guy, and it sounded like he was into you, too.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “It just... didn’t work out.”

Sam gave her a pointed look. “That’s not a real answer.”

She groaned, leaning back in her seat. “Fine. Over the weeks, it was like everything he said he liked about me at first became an issue.”

“Like?” Sam prompted, tilting his head.

“Like preferring to stay home instead of going out all the time, it bored him. Or how he’d tell me he loved my cooking but would complain about his sweater smelling smoky after I’d make something. Little stuff like that.” She paused. “Then one day, I knit him a scarf. And do you know what he said?”

Sam raised a brow. “What?”

“He said, ‘I have a grandma who can do that,’” she said flatly.

Sam let out a sharp laugh of disbelief. “What a jackass.”

“Yeah,” she said with a humorless chuckle. “That was the last straw. Especially since he was the one who said he’d love it if I made something for him while flirting.”

“Oh my God, Sarah would’ve shoved the scarf through his ass, crochet hook included. And… uh did you two, you know…” Sam made a wave with his hand implying intimacy.

She couldn’t stop herself from briefly side-look at Bucky, who was staring at the ground. “No. I mean there was… but no. I don’t know, maybe that’s why suddenly everything started to annoy him.

Bucky felt a sharp surge of anger toward the faceless man. His fingers flexed against his thigh as he tried to push it down, but it stayed there. Sure, things had changed over the decades, he’d seen that much already. But memories of Rebecca knitting gloves for her sweetheart by the window, or his ma stitching clothes for them during the Depression, flooded his mind.

He knew what it meant to make something with your hands, the time, care, and thought behind every stitch. For that man to dismiss it like it was nothing, to compare her work to something anyone could do... it was a slap to everything he’d grown up valuing.

“That guy was an idiot,” he muttered, with irritation. “You took the time to make something for him, something personal. That matters. If he couldn’t see that, he wasn’t worth it.” The look on his face betrayed rage, the kind that made it clear he’d have no problem to physically teach the guy a lesson if he were standing in front of him.

She felt warmth rise in her chest at his words, “Thank you.”

Sam, who had been watching the exchange with growing amusement, leaned back in his seat with a knowing grin.

----

A couple of days had passed since they returned to New York, and she sat on her couch, biting her nails absently. The soft ticking of the wall clock felt louder than usual.

It was almost time for the doorbell to ring.

When they landed, Bucky had set her aside hesitantly and asked her if it was alright for them to talk. He’d made it clear that there was no pressure, no expectations. If she didn’t want to, he’d leave it alone. The last thing he wanted was to cause her discomfort.

She’d promptly agreed, “We can talk at my place if you are okay with that.” the offer had spilled from her lips before she could even think it through.

Her house was small but cozy, cluttered in a lived-in way. Books and plants filled old wooden shelves, the soft glow of a lamp in the corner painted the room in warm tones, and the faint scent of lavender lingered from a candle burning on the coffee table. She’d baked cookies and tidied up, in an unconscious effort to keep herself busy.

The doorbell finally rang, startling her.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she stood quickly, smoothing her hands over her shirt before heading to the door. When she opened it, there he was. Red henley, dark jeans, and a stuffed paper bag in his hand, standing on the threshold with a casual but guarded expression.

“Hi,” she managed to say, calmer than she felt.

“Hi,” he replied, nodding slightly before extending the bag toward her. “Um, for later. I figured it’d be rude to come empty-handed.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have” she said, clearly pleased, stepping aside while taking the bag, gesturing for him to come in. “Make yourself comfortable”.

Bucky hesitated momentarily before stepping inside, flicking his gaze briefly over the room. It felt... welcoming, familiar. He sat on the couch stiffly, resting his hands on his thighs.

She followed him, putting the paper bag on the coffee table and taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“So,” she began, breaking the silence, “what did you want to talk about?”

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh his words carefully. “I just... wanted to say I’m sorry,”.

“For what?” she asked, puzzled.

“For everything,” he said, dropping his gaze to his hands. “For what Hydra put you through because of me. For being part of the reason you were stuck in that hell.”

Her breath caught, and she shook her head instinctively. “What- Bucky, you weren’t the reason-”

“I was,” he cut her off gently, lifting his eyes to meet hers again. “I might not have had a choice in what they did to me, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t pay the price for it.”

She swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “You’re not responsible for what they did.” she said softly. “Neither of us is.”

“Objectively I know,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it is.”

The air between them felt heavy, charged with unspoken pain and understanding.

She sighed. “They abducted me because of my mutant powers, Bucky. They eventually assigned me to be your… maintenance tool because you were their most effective asset, Hydra’s fist. But even if you have not been there, there were others. For one reason or another, I would have ended up there anyway.”

The others.

******

Her words triggered memories he didn’t want but couldn’t avoid. The unending hours of hand-to-hand combat, training the newly enhanced assets. His missions didn’t end when he returned from the field; Hydra had repurposed him to mold their next generation of tools.

The rules had been clear: restrict his strength, take the blows, and avoid permanent damage. These trainees were expensive investments, after all, and he had the privilege of having his Tinkerbell next door to sprinkle some powder to fix him anew after every session.

Was in one of those travels to the neighboring cell when Soldat’s brain used the gray zones in the rules for the first time.

As he opened the heavy door, his gaze landed on the stretcher. She wasn’t alone. The asset bending her over the surface, fisting her hair, was making sure of it. His other hand fumbled, trying to place his excuse of a cock inside her, as she twisted helplessly beneath him.

His jaw ticked.

His fist connected with his target’s jaw in a blur of silver and crimson, sending him flying against the nearest wall with a sickening thud. The orders were to restrain himself while training. Her cell wasn’t meant as a place to train.

The asset groaned, attempting to push himself upright, but Soldat was already on him. In two long strides, he closed the distance, seizing the man’s throat with a crushing grip, lifting him up as if he weighed nothing. The asset’s eyes widened in panic as his legs kicked futilely against the air.

“Soldat!” a voice crackled through the speaker overhead. The handler’s voice.

He froze momentarily, loosening his grip just enough for the asset to suck in a ragged breath.

“Stand down,” the voice ordered, laced with the unmistakable threat of consequences.

His gaze flickered toward the camera in the corner of the room. He knew they were watching, assessing every move. But as he looked back at the asset, his grip tightened again.

She was still there, trembling against the stretcher, her wide, teary eyes locked on him. Her lip was split, and her arms were wrapped tightly around herself as though trying to hold her shattered pieces together.

A flicker of something broke through the red haze in his mind.

“Soldat,” the handler barked again, sharper this time. “Release him. Now.”

His hand twitched, and the hum of his arm vibrated faintly as if resisting the command. Slowly, deliberately, he dropped the man to the ground. The asset crumpled in a heap, coughing and clutching his throat.**

He walked toward the stretcher where she sat, frozen in place. Without a word, he leaned on the edge, reaching for the clasps of his upper vest and unfastening efficiently. The vest came off, revealing his beaten torso. His skin was mottled with bruises, and a sickly shade of purple spread across his ribs, the uneven swelling at the zone was a clear indication of fractures.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint static from the intercom and the asset’s wheezing on the floor.

He turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze in a silent request. Her hands shook as she reached for him, steading when they met his skin.

“Soldat,” the handler’s voice snapped through the intercom. “Report back to the training room.”

He didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering, unyielding. His hand twitched again, resting lightly on his thigh as though restraining himself from reaching out.

“I said, report back.”

******

“-cky… Bucky…” her voice broke the trance, bringing him back to the present.

He blinked, as his focus returned to the present. He saw her now, not trembling inside a depressing cell but sitting across from him in her living room, looking at him with concern.

“Sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. The words felt inadequate, but they were all he could manage at the moment.

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. “It seems we still have a lot of shit to unpack,” she finally said. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her shirt as she continued, flicking her gaze back to him. “For some reason, you feel responsible for my captivity, and on the other hand, I feel responsible for prolonging your torment.” Her lips quirked into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Maybe we need to do some couple’s counseling.”

The joke was light, silly, considering what they’ve been through. Still, Bucky’s lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile.

Grabbing onto that tiny smile like a lifeline, she seized the opportunity to steer the conversation toward something more pleasant. “So, what’s in the mystery bag you brought?”

His gaze flicked to the paper-wrapped goodies on the coffee table. “Some... pastries,” he admitted, almost self-conscious. “Figured you might invite me for some coffee.” He quirked a brow, the faint hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“It was my intention, yes,” she replied, leaning back in her seat, “Also, I might or might not have baked enough cookies to feed an army to go with it.”

“That so?” His smirk deepened slightly.

“Well, for starters I know your metabolism screams at you to inhale calories even in your sleep, and... I was kind of nervous before our meeting,” she confessed, almost murmuring toward the end.

He blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. “Nervous?” he echoed.

She shrugged, brushing an imaginary lint off her pants. “Yeah, nervous. I mean, it’s not every day you have a sit-down heart-to-heart with someone you...” She paused, searching for the right words. “...went through hell with.”

He didn’t respond immediately, fixing his gaze on her. Finally, he nodded, “I get it.”

For a moment, they sat in a silence that felt lighter than before, and then she clapped her hands lightly and rose from her seat.

“Well,” she said, “How about we see what kind of pastries you picked, and I’ll grab the cookies and make the coffee?

“Seems like a plan.” He agreed, standing and following her into the kitchen.

She grabbed a tray and began arranging the pastries he’d brought, their golden crusts promising a delicious treat. Beside them, she added a generous pile of cookies she’d baked earlier. The hum of the kettle heating the water filled the small space.

Bucky’s eyes drifted to the counter as she prepped. He hummed in appreciation when he realized she was setting up for brewed coffee, and the familiar sight of a pour-over filter caught his attention.

“Don’t like coffee makers,” she remarked, noticing his gaze. “Tastes like dirty water to me.”

He smirked faintly. “I couldn’t have expressed it better. There’s a machine for almost everything now, but some things...”

“...are better the old-fashioned way,” she finished, flashing him a small smile.

Bucky nodded toward the tray. “May I?”

“Go ahead,” she said, motioning to the cookies.

He reached for one, and before he realized it, his hand kept returning to the tray. They were warm, buttery, and just the right amount of sweet, a huge contrast to the food he’d grown accustomed to over the years.

“You bake like this often?” he asked between bites, in an almost casual tone.

“Not really,” she admitted with a chuckle, leaning against the counter. “I had a lot of nervous energy before today. Figured I might as well channel it into something productive.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “They’re good.”

She grinned. “Glad you approve.”

By the time the coffee was ready, most of the cookies were gone. She blinked at the near-empty tray and arched a brow at him.

“Seriously?” she teased, pouring two mugs of coffee. “I don’t think the cookies were supposed to be dinner.”

Bucky shrugged unapologetically, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Couldn’t stop. They’re better than anything I’ve had in a while.”

“Well, I’m taking that as a compliment,” she said, handing him a mug.

He took it, warming his hand with the cup. “It was.”

They settled at the small kitchen table, with the tray of pastries and the few remaining cookies between them. The conversation flowed easily, and their laughter mixed with the freshly brewed coffee aroma.

At some point, Bucky’s fingers tightened around his mug, lowering his gaze to its content. He hesitated for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line before he spoke. “When you asked me about the dating app the other day... how long... when did you feel you were ready to, you know…”

He trailed off, cursing himself inwardly for the clumsy phrasing and lack of subtlety.

She tilted her head, “Well, you mentioned it as a joke, and then I took the opportunity to ask since, you know, I was curious about them.” She chuckled lightly. “Not that my attempts at normal dating have been anything to brag about. As you heard on the plane... pretty pathetic.”

Bucky’s lips quirked briefly, but his eyes stayed on the coffee, waiting.

She shifted slightly in her chair, toying with the edge of her mug with her fingers. “As for being ready... I don’t know. It’s been a couple of years since I started feeling the... the need to have someone. Someone who’s more than just a friend.” She paused, and her gaze drifted somewhere far away, before returning to him. “But, honestly, the world changed so much. Dating now is... different. Messy.” She offered a faint smile, “Well if it feels like that for me, I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. You probably grew up around my daddy’s time.”

Bucky’s head shot up, quirking his brow in mock indignation. “Your dad’s time?”

She grinned, catching the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You were probably handing out love letters, not even using a phone.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Hey, we weren’t that old-fashioned.” He paused, “But... yeah. It was different.”

“Guess that’s one thing we have in common,” she said softly. “Figuring out where we fit in a world that’s... moved on without us.”

He looked at her then, somehow the weight of her words made him feel less alone in his own struggle.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess we do.”

Gathering her courage, she nodded toward his vibranium hand, “Can I see it? Properly, I mean.”

His body tensed for a fraction of a second, but he saw genuine interest in her eyes. Slowly, he lifted his arm, extending the sleek prosthetic toward her.

She reached for it with both hands, brushing her fingers trough the cool, polished surface. His gaze widened slightly as she turned it gently in her grasp.

“Wow,” she murmured, running her fingertips along the ridges and smooth joints. “The fingers are less edgy than the old one.” She traced a line along his palm. “How’s the sensory feedback?”

Her question startled him out of his momentary daze, and he cleared his throat. Her touch was making harder to stay composed than he wanted to admit. “neuro-connections are more advanced,” he began, in an almost clinical tone. “So I have better control over it. I can feel pressure and temperature more accurately. But that’s... all.”

Her thumbs brushed over the pads of his fingers, “That’s a lot, though,” she said quietly. “It’s incredible. Do you ever... forget it’s not flesh and bone?”

His lips twitched faintly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Until I catch someone staring at it. Or...” His gaze dropped to her hands, still cradling his. “Until someone touches it. And I remember it’s not real.”

Her grip tightened slightly, an unconscious response. “It is real, Bucky,” she said firmly, lifting her eyes to his. “It’s you.”

“Thanks,” he said after a long pause.

Noticing that she still hadn’t released his hand, she let go quickly, feeling her cheeks warming under his stare. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

He shook his head lightly. “It’s fine,” he muttered.

She grabbed a pastry from the tray and took a bite to occupy herself. The silence lingered before she worked up the courage to ask, tentative but curious. “So... when did you feel ready to date and try the apps and stuff?”

He stiffened almost imperceptibly.

“You asked me,” she deadpanned as she gestured toward him with a half-eaten bun. “Fair if I get to ask you the same.”

He sighed, brushing his fingers over his temple as he scratched it absently. “I don’t think...” He trailed off, then started again. “Last year, my therapist suggested I start stepping out of my comfort zone. Told me it’d help with... things. So... I tried.”

“And?” she prompted, leaning slightly forward, encouraging but not pushing.

His gaze dropped to the table. “I’d be lying if I said it’s been great.”

She remained silent, giving him space to continue.

“It’s just...” He hesitated, his hand curling into a loose fist on the table. “Meeting new people it’s hard. Small talk feels fake, like I’m watching it happen instead of being part of it. There’s this constant voice in my head, reminding me of all the things I can’t tell them. All the stuff I can’t explain. I look at someone across a table, and they’re smiling, talking about their favorite movies or where they want to go on vacation. And all I can think about is how much they don’t know. How much they can’t know.” He paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “That I’ve done things... that I’ve had things done to me. And if they ever found out, they’d run away.”

She set her pastry down quietly, folding her hands in her lap as she listened, letting him talk, suspecting he probably hadn’t spoken this much in years.

“And then there’s the other stuff,” he continued, lower now. “The touch. Sometimes, even a handshake feels wrong. Too close, too much. I can’t control how my brain reacts. Sometimes I flinch, or freeze. And how do you explain that to someone on a second date?”

“Yeah. Touching can be... hard if you’re not familiar enough with the person,” she murmured, dropping her gaze to the table.

They both understood why.

The silence stretched. He didn’t need to ask what she meant, and she didn’t need to elaborate. Hydra had ensured they both carried scars that made even the simplest gestures of connection fraught with hesitation.

She straightened in her seat, trying to shake off the heavy mood. “You know,” she said, with a faint edge of humor creeping into her tone, “for a conversation about dating, this has turned into a pretty depressing therapy session.”

He seemed to hesitate, curling his fingers slightly around his mug before he spoke. “It’s not like that with you.”

Her brow furrowed. “Uh?”

“Touching,” he clarified, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were confessing something. “Those days in Poland... I noticed.”

“Oh,” she said softly, as her fingers brushed the edge of her cup while her gaze flickered to him.

He looked down at his hands, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “I’ve been... thinking about it. And the only reason I can come up with is... because you were the only ‘good’ thing in that hellhole.”

She stared at him, unsure how to respond. Then she shook her head slowly. “After everything Hydra made me do to you, how can you feel-”

His gaze snapped to hers, sharp and unyielding. “I don’t blame you,” he cut her firmly. “I’ve told you that.”

She bit her lip, afraid to ask. “But... how much do you remember about-”

“Everything,” he said quietly.

She inhaled sharply, tightening her fingers around the mug and locked her eyes onto his. “E-even...”

“Everything, doll,” he said again, softer now.

She swallowed hard. “I see. And still...”

“Don’t blame you,” he repeated, resolute, as though daring her to argue.

******

It had been two days since they’d injected him with that burning substance, two days of his body rebelling against him in the most excruciating way. The unrelenting ache of the forced erection was a constant, painful thrum, and despite his silence, the slight tremor in his movements betrayed the toll it was taking.

At first, the staff had dismissed it as a side effect of the experiment. But as the hours stretched into days, and Soldat’s body refused to yield, it became clear that something had to be done.

The traditional methods failed. They’d barked orders for him to “take care of it himself,” but he stood motionless and unresponsive. They had thrown him into freezing water, and his body had trembled violently, but the condition persisted. Even a brutal beating did nothing to break the cycle.

Finally, they summoned her.

She’d entered the sterile room, and her stomach churned. He was shirtless, his skin flushed an unnatural shade, and though his expression remained stoic, she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands curled slightly at his sides.

“You,” the handler barked, gesturing toward him. “Fix the inconvenience.”

Her heart sank. She swallowed thickly, forcing herself to remain composed. “But... he’s not injured, sir. I don’t-”

The sharp crack of a slap cut her off, her head snapping to the side as pain bloomed across her cheek.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, pet,” the handler sneered, his voice dripping with venom.

She bit down on her lip, as she nodded numbly. “Yes, sir.”

Approaching him hesitantly, she reached out and hovered her trembling hand over his overheated skin. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move, just stared ahead, his blue gaze void of anything human.

Tentatively, she placed her hand against his chest, and noticed the heat radiating off his body was almost unbearable. Closing her eyes, she tried to infuse him with her healing surge, willing it to work, to cool the fire that was consuming him.

Nothing.

She retracted her hand, “It’s no use, sir,” she excused herself in a whisper.

“Try harder,” he snarled, sharply.

Before she could react, he grabbed her trembling hand and shoved it between Soldat’s legs. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. He remained still, his lifeless gaze kept fixed on the far wall, as though none of this was happening.

Slowly, reluctantly, she wrapped her hand around him -or tried to-, her fingers barely circling his length. Her heart pounded in her ears as she forced herself to send another wave of her healing surge through her palm.

Nothing.

“S-sir, it’s not...” she stammered, withdrawing slightly.

“Try a different approach,” the handler barked, his patience wearing thin.

Her stomach twisted painfully. “B-but...”

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen a cock in your entire life, slut,” the handler spat with malice. “We both know very well that’s not the case.”

Shame and rage bloomed inside her chest, but she didn’t dare meet his eyes.

The handler’s cruel smile widened, and his next words were laced with venom. “Jerk him off.”

Her body froze. She stared down at her hand, still trembling against the Soldat’s unmoving form.

When she didn’t move, the man stepped closer. “Do you prefer if I order him to fuck your brains out?” he sneered. “I’m pretty sure he’d gladly comply. His fried brain probably can’t even remember the last time he did it.”

The Soldat’s jaw ticked imperceptibly at the words, a flicker of something passing through his otherwise blank expression. A muscle in his temple twitched, so slightly it was almost imperceptible, but she noticed.

“Do it,” the handler barked, his tone icy. “Now.”

Slowly, she shifted her gaze to the side, staring at the far wall to avoid looking at him, at either of them. Her hand trembled as she reached out, brushing against the overheated skin of his abdomen before curling around him again.

The Soldat kept being unresponsive.

Her fingers tightened slightly around him, and she began to move her hand in a clinical and detached way, trying to retreat her mind to a faraway place.

The handler leaned against the counter, and his smug smile made her sick. “See? Was that so hard, pet?”

She didn’t respond, focusing instead on keeping her breathing steady. Soldat remained as a statue, with his gaze fixed straight ahead. But she saw it again, the faintest twitch of his fingers, a subtle clenching of his jaw.

Was it anger? Pleasure? She didn’t know, and she couldn’t afford to dwell on it. She tried to focus on the rhythm of her movements, the hum of the fluorescent lights above, anything to drown out the humiliation.

“Good girl,” the man praised her mockingly.

At some point, the Soldat’s breath hitched slightly, a small, involuntary response. She froze for a fraction of a second, before forcing herself to continue.

The handler’s gaze was fixed on her with sadistic amusement. “See? The horny dog is starting to stir,” he sneered, chuckling darkly. “Keep going, pet. Put some effort into it.”

She kept going, trying to block out the handler’s taunts and the oppressive heat radiating from Soldat’s body.

“I can’t wait to see how this ends,” He stepped closer, and his boots clicked against the sterile floor as his shadow loomed over her. She could feel his cruel satisfaction like a physical weight pressing down on her.

He smirked, tilting his head as if studying a piece of art. “It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? The indomitable Winter Soldier reduced to this.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “And you, pet... always so eager to fix him.

Her hand faltered for the briefest moment, and the handler’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t stop,” he hissed, sharply.

Her fingers resumed their mechanical rhythm, trembling slightly as they moved over the heated skin.

Soldat’s body betrayed him, starting to respond to her ministrations. His chest rose and fell slightly faster, and the faintest sheen of sweat formed along his collarbone. A muscle in his jaw ticked again, and his metal hand twitched at his side, the slightest flex of his fingers betraying the struggle beneath the surface.

She noticed every subtle reaction, every unwilling signal his body sent. It felt like a cruel mockery, this was not a man choosing to respond, but a body manipulated and prodded to betray its instincts.

The handler’s smirk widened as he circled them, amused. “See? The body don’t lie, pet. No matter how much you both fight it, nature always wins.”

Soldat’s breaths were growing more uneven, and his nostrils flared as his chest rose and fell with increasing urgency. For a moment, his steel-blue gaze flicked down to her hand, a fleeting acknowledgment before snapping forward again, returning to the blank void.

The handler leaned against the counter again, crossing his arms, watching with sick satisfaction. “He’s close, isn’t he? Just look at him.”

Soldat’s fingers twitched again, curling slightly into a loose fist. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, a small, involuntary moan escaping his lips. Barely audible but deafening in the oppressive silence of the room.

The handler laughed, cruelly. “There it is,” he sneered, clapping his hands mockingly. “Hydra’s fist reduced to nothing more than a desperate animal. Guess even the strongest aren’t immune to a good touch. Keep going, pet,” he ordered. “We’re almost there.”

Soldat’s gaze flicked down to her hand again, and the faintest flicker of something passed through his otherwise blank expression. Another quiet moan slipped out, broken and involuntary, while his body tensed beneath her touch, and the muscles in his abdomen started to tighten,

The handler licked his lips as his gaze kept glued to the scene before him. “Almost there, loyal pet. Finish it.”

Soldat’s breaths hitched again, and his body betrayed him further as his head tilted back slightly, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin glinted under the sterile light, and every detail etched into her mind despite her desperate attempts to detach herself.

And then it happened.

His body went rigid, his metal hand clenched into a fist, so tight it trembled at his side. His breath hitched, and a low, guttural sound tore from his throat, a mixture of release and anguish that echoed in the sterile room.

She froze, retreating her hand almost immediately as though burned. Her chest heaved with shallow, shaky breaths as she stumbled back a step.

Soldat’s body sagged slightly, and his head dropped forward, while his breathing started to slow down, bleeding the tension out of his system. He didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge the handler either, his gaze fixed again somewhere distant, unreachable.

The handler clapped, grinning wide and cruelly again. “There you go, pet. Good job. I knew you had it in you.”

Her hands clutched at her sides, biting her nails into her palms as she forced herself to stand still, to remain composed even as her world felt like it was shattering.

Sensing her discomfort, he kept his smirk firmly in place. “Now clean yourself up” he said coldly. “You look like cheap whore.”

Then he turned around. “You, take him to cryo,” he lazily ordered to the guards who had been standing silently by the door. “He’s done for now.”

******

“I know what it’s like to not have a choice,” he said simply, “I know what it’s like to be used, controlled, forced into something you’d never choose for yourself.”

Her gaze dropped to the table.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “I’m no saint. I’ve hated a lot of people, doll. Hated myself more than I can say. But you? Not once. You were there, real and raw. And, maybe, is because of that that I trust you.”

She stared at him, and her hands twitched on the table, wanting to reach out, to bridge the gap between them. But instead, she sat there with her heart pounding.

“Bucky, I-” her voice faltered. The weight of his admission was almost too much for her to bear.

The way he looked at her then, open and bare, broke whatever restrain was keeping her still.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up. She stood abruptly, scraping the chair against the floor, and rounded the small table.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He didn’t flinch. Slowly, his arms came up to encircle her waist cautiously, as though afraid he might break her. She pressed her cheek against the crown of his head and put her hands around his broad shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his hair.

She felt him shift slightly, dipping his head lower until his forehead rested lightly against her shoulder. His breath was warm against the side of her neck, and the subtle weight of his body leaning into her made her heart ache.

“For what?” he murmured.

“For not hating me.”

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

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motorsportbarbie13 · 12 hours ago

Text

Aftermath - Chapter 2

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. my sincerest apologies for not putting this in the warnings at first. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. sorry bubs. swearing. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4k

Chapter 1 Master List

“You didn’t have to walk me home, you know. It’s only a few blocks.” You tell Max as you press into his side, shivering against the cold breeze of the Monaco night. It had been warm when you left the apartment earlier that evening but now the air held a chill that had you wishing you had taken Carles up on his offer to drive you back home.

Around you, the city buzzes, a hive of activity on a Friday night but the extent of your world consists of only you and Max.

“Of course I did. It’s late and cold and there was no way you were walking home alone.”

“Max, we live in Monaco, I’m perfectly safe.” You joke but secretly, you’re glad Max had offered to walk you home.

You’d never admit it but you liked being around him, his demeanor had always been calming to you and tonight, your nerves were frayed more than usual. It was probably thanks to the whispers you had heard at the gallery, asking not so quietly where Lando was as you walked around and spoke to the guests. He had never showed up and while you were disappointed he hadn’t showed, you weren’t quite surprised either. There had been something in his tone when you left that evening that had anxiety curling your gut before you even stepped out of the apartment. You hated to even think it, but you somewhat suspected he had never planned on showing up to the show at all that night but you wouldn’t ever put a voice to those thoughts.

“Fine then.” Max huffs, but there’s no venom in his voice. “Maybe I just wanted to spend some extra time with you, okay? I feel like we never see each other anymore.” Max lets the unsaid end of that sentence hang in the air: ‘Because you’re with Lando now.’

Your heart aches at the truth of his words. A lot of your friendships had taken a hit over the last three years. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, but your circle had shrunk significantly since you had started dating Lando and it shocked you how you never had realized it until now. It had started small, with Lando saying he just wanted to spend the weekend only with you while he had a rare weekend off and then slowly morphed into him only wanting to spend time with his friends so if you wanted to see him you had to spend what little time you got with him with his friends as well. Slowly, your friends stopped calling and inviting you places because the answer was always the same: ‘sorry, Lando has plans this weekend and I’m going to tag along with him!’ Or just a straight up ‘no, not this time.’

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, biting your lip as guilt creeps up your neck. “It’s been a rough year.”

Max hates the regret that courses through him. He shouldn’t make you feel like this, shouldn’t voice his opinion of what he sees happening in front of him. He can’t help the frustration that bubbles to the surface when you talk like that though. He knows exactly where it comes from and it kills Max knowing that there is one person solely responsible for dimming that sparkle you’ve always had.

Max stops in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a few tourists to shout in surprise when they have to dodge the Dutchman’s tall frame. A frown finds itself onto his face as he looks down at you. Your heart stutters to a stop, you’ve seen this look before and it has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling.

“I hate when you do that.” He can’t help himself, he’s kept his peace for far too long but the fact that Lando missed tonights show has been burning a hole in his chest all night and the embers were about to flare to life.

Panic squeezes at your chest. Around you, people are shooting glances your way as you both stand in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. You only have a few moments before someone notices it is you and Max Verstappen and start taking pictures. Pictures that will inevitably show up on some gossip instagram account and cause you more trouble than they’re worth.

“Do what?” Despite your desire to not be seen arguing with Max, you can’t help the question that slips out.

“When you apologize for things that aren’t your fault. Anyone with eyes can see who the problem is in your relationship and it’s not you, Dovie.” Max’s words come out more harsher than they intend and he knows he’s approaching a line that probably shouldn’t be crossed tonight.

You can’t bring your eyes up to meet Max’s heated gaze but you can feel him looking at you. Those blue eyes you used to think you could get lost in when you were younger. Before everything changed. Before you met Lando and he swept you right off your feet.

“Charles told me about the apartment.” Max confesses. Maybe if you know you have others supporting your decision to leave, it’ll make it easier. He hopes that his support would mean something to you.

Your stomach plummets to your toes, cheeks burning red with shame. “Charles should keep his big mouth shut.” You bite out, fists working themselves into a ball at your sides.

Max’s eyes narrow at your outburst. There was the fire that you’d been missing. Something in Max heaves a sigh of relief, you’re still in there. You’re on the cusp of getting that fire back and Max can almost see you reach for it deep in the pit of your belly. You’re so close to the edge and Max knows you well enough to know when to back off.

“I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I won’t press. I just wanted you to know that I miss you.”

Max momentarily wonders if he’s gone too far when he sees tears well up in your eyes. His heart squeezes at the thought of being the one to make you cry.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” You sob, no longer caring who sees you or what could possibly make it back to Lando. “I know you’re friends with him and I shouldn’t put you in the middle of our mess.”

Max’s brows knit together in confusion. The fact that you would question his loyalty to you over Lando simply baffles him. “I’ve been in your life longer than I’ve known Lando and you’ll be in my life long after he’s gone.” Max lets that last sentence hang in the air, the prophecy of his words clinging to your skin.

“Max.” You whisper, floored by the fierceness of his tone and the sincerity of his words.

Panic claws at him. He’s gone too far, revealed too much. He can’t do that with you now, not when you’re already so fragile. You don’t need that from him and he knows it. Back off, something in him orders and alarm bells clang to life.

“All I’m saying is,” Max keeps his tone deliberately light. “If you need a friend to talk to, I’m here. Always.”

You nod, appreciating how he backed off when he saw you panicking.

Max takes your elbow before turning you around, pointing you in the direction of your apartment. “Come on, let’s get you home, okay?”

As Max walks you the rest of the way home, Lando is still set up in his gaming room playing Tarkov with Max on his stream. As they begin another raid, Lando notices Max’s stream start to pick up at a much faster pace than it’s been running all evening. He’s been streaming for hours now, since before you left the apartment and while he knows the opening should be wrapping up right about now, he has a hard time caring. Those things are always so boring and he never understands the art, even if it is nice to be photographed out with you and your brothers.

“What is this link everyone’s spamming chat? You all know if you start spamming, we’re going to mute you.” Max asks, frustration evident in his voice.

Lando glances over at the chat screen on his second monitor and sees his name flying by along with what looks like an instagram link. He knows he shouldn’t click on dodgy links but curiosity gets the best of him because at the same time the chat starts to explode, so do his notifications from Instagram. “The fuck?” He mumbles, ignoring Max who is reading the chat as they come in.

“First Verstappen steals your championship, now he’s stealing your girl? Chat, what the fuck are you all on about?”

Lando can feel the heat rising in his face and he’s instantly thankful that he’s got his video off. He mutes himself quickly too before texting Max, who is desperately trying to regain control of the chat. The link finally opens and Lando nearly drops his phone. He’s been tagged in a series of photos that show you and Max walking out of the gallery together, then you two stopped in the middle of the sidewalk embracing with you clearly looking upset, and then a final one showing you two walking away together.

Anger flares bright and sharp in his chest as he looks at the photos. You’re making him look like a fool, galavanting around town with the likes of Max Verstappen late at night, especially after all he went thorough with Max last season. What the fuck were you thinking?

“Alright, chat I think that’s going to be the end of the stream tonight. This is why we can’t have nice things!”

Max ends the stream without a second thought, knowing that Lando is going to be incandescent with rage after seeing those photos and reading all the comments.

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source First he steals the championship, now it looks like Max Verstappen is making a play for @/lando's girl. Uh ooooooh... user9928 I mean, she looked pretty upset in the other pictures I saw leaving the gallery. Lando didn't show to support her so... user298 paddock bunnies gonna bunny >>>user223 she's literally known Max almost her entire life??? user110 this isn't a thing...her and Max have been friends for YEARS. Leave the poor girl alone user1008 lando's loss, she's amazing. user918 idk but if my girl got caught getting a kiss from another guy, I'd go scorched earth >>>user028 SERIOUSLY I am floored by the people defending her??? Like??? >>>user928 maybe if Lando showed up for his girlfriend, Max wouldn't have had to step in and comfort her...?

As Lando struggles to come to grips with what he just saw, you and Max are standing in the lobby of your apartment as you desperately search for your keys. “Fuck, I think I forgot my keys upstairs.”

“Just give Lando a call, I’m sure he’s still up.”

You shrug, cheeks heating. “He sometimes gets tunnel vision when he’s streaming and forgets to check his phone.” You admit, not wanting to go more into detail because you know how bad it’ll sound if you have to tell Max that sometimes Lando will completely ignore you while he’s streaming. What you also don’t tell him is that this has happened to you before and all three times, you’d had to spend the night at either Jade or Charles’ house because he had been on stream so late you had nearly fallen asleep in the hallway.

Max levels a glare at you, unable to believe what you’re saying. “Well, lets both go up then and maybe we can get his attention by knocking.”

Anxiety ripples through you as Max starts off towards the elevators, giving you no other choice but to follow him. It’s a quiet ride up to your floor as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, unable to even attempt to make small talk with Max. You know the facade of your entire relationship is about to be lifted right in front of one of your oldest friends and you don’t quite know how to make it stop.

When you raise your hand to knock, your heart hammers in your chest so wildly you momentarily worry Max is going to be concerned for your health. Much to your surprise, it only takes a few short moments for the door to swing open so fast you nearly stumble back.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Lando spits when his eyes land on Max. The venom in his voice is so shocking you need to take a step away, unintentionally stepping closer to Max, which seems to set Lando off even more. Rage flares in his eyes at your proximity to his on-track rival.

“That’s a wild way to say ‘hey man, thanks for walking my girlfriend home in the dark because I couldn’t be bothered to show up to her art show’ but you’re welcome.” Max grits out, taking one step closer to you as if he might need to get between you and Lando.

Tension hangs thick between the three of you as Lando seethes where he stands in the door.

“Max, it’s okay.” You whisper, shame lighting a painful spark of fire deep in your chest. This was going to get out of control so quickly.

“No, it’s not and you know it.” Max turns back to Lando now, eyes blazing with a level of anger that is miles more intense than the look Lando is giving you. “And why the fuck are you coming at her so hot? All I did was walk her home.”

Lando scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Because this was just posted by almost a dozen gossip accounts and was being spammed all over Fewtrell’s chat while we were streaming.”

You take the phone Lando is brandishing in your face and go pale. The carousel of photos in the new post are pretty damning, you have to admit but you would have thought that your boyfriend of all people would know better than to blindly believe a series of grainy photos above trusting his own girlfriend.

“Lando…” You sooth, arm reaching out to touch his elbow. You wince when he pulls away from you. “You of all people should know how those things are twisted. Max was just walking me home and we were talking, that’s it.”

“But why was he hugging you?” He shows you the third picture of Max hugging you after you had started crying out on the street. You had to admit you were kind of impressed with how fast those photos got out, but it was Monaco after all and you hand’t exactly been discreet when you were upset with Max.

“Because she was upset you didn’t show up for her. Again!” Max shouts and you flinch.

The words slice a fresh wound across your heart. The fact that Max knew that this wasn’t the first time upsets you more than you think it should. You’re not entirely sure why Max’s opinion of you matters so much but you’re not quite willing to examine those feelings yet.

Lando’s glare swings away from you and back onto Max. “Because I’ve been to a million of them and they’re all the same. Same pretentious people pretending they have taste. Once you’ve been to one you’ve been to them all.”

The words that come out of your boyfriend’s mouth have you audibly gasping, hand flying to your throat. “Lando.” You whisper, pain and shock coursing through your voice.

You swear you feel a brush of fingertips on the small of your back but the touch is so light and so quick you think you’ve imagined it.

Something flickers behind your boyfriend’s eyes then and it’s almost like he realizes he’s gone a step too far. His shoulders sag and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry baby.” Lando reaches for you and before you can step away, he pulls you into his chest. He doesn’t miss the way you stiffen in his embrace though and neither does Max. “Please come inside and we can talk about it alone, okay?” He whispers, glaring at Max, clearly dismissing him.

The way his arms used to feel around you was comforting, you’d seek his affection when you were anxious or upset and he would always take care of you but somewhere along the line, the affection you craved stopped being handed out so easily. Now, you craved it but only because if he was touching you it meant he wasn’t mad at you and maybe this time it would be different. Every time he showed you this kind of affection you hoped that this would be the time he would change.

It never was.

“Thank you for walking me home, Max. I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

Worry lines crease the spot between his brows as he frowns. Everything in his body is screaming to put up a fight and not let you go inside with Lando. He knows if Charles were here and had just witnessed what he had, there was no way Lando would be leaving this building in anything other than a body bag but he wasn’t Charles and he didn’t have any entitlement to you. He wanted to fight but you weren’t his to fight for.

“Call me if you need anything, okay Dovie?”

Lando’s arms tighten around you at the nickname. He hates it and Max knows it. “She won’t need to, I’ve got her.”

“You sure about that, mate?” Max asks, one brow tipping up in question.

Without waiting for a reply, Max turns on his heel and walks towards the elevator. In his pocket, his fingers curl around his phone because the moment he gets out of the building he knows exactly who he’s going to be calling: Charles.

As soon as Max leaves and your behind closed doors, the mask slips again.

“What the fuck were you thinking, walking home with Max fucking Verstappen? And hugging him?” Lando is pacing the floor of your living room as you stand there, helpless to say anything against his raging.

It’s usually like this when he gets angry with you and you’ve gotten good at being quiet while he rages. You have to let him work out all the anger and eventually you know he’ll calm down and apologizes for losing his temper. You’ve seen this before and you know exactly what to do, how to humor the angry beast that has surfaced once again.

“Lando, it wasn’t like that and you know it.” You fight to keep the exasperation out of your voice, knowing that would just set him off even more. “I was alone, my brothers were going in the opposite direction, and Max offered. That’s it! It was completely innocent.” Despite yourself, you try to reason with him.

“You should have just gone home with your brothers then instead of putting yourself in that position.” He snaps and you glare at him.

“You would have rather me not slept here at home tonight than take an offer from a friend to walk me home? All because you didn’t follow through with what you said you’d do?”

You know you’re pushing him and Lando doesn’t like to be pushed. Your conversation with Charles two weeks ago flickers through your mind. How you deserve better and it strikes you then that everyone but you can see it. Everyone around you, everyone that loves you can see how bad he is for you, how poorly he treats you and how much you’ve changed since you started dating him.

You supposed that if you had changed for the better, maybe everyone who loved you wouldn’t have anything to say. Don’t people change for the people they love all the time? You were sure they did but you weren’t sure you liked the change you saw in yourself anymore. You couldn’t fight it, this change that felt like you were wearing shoes that were three sizes too small for your feet. Like you had outgrown yourself in a way that wasn’t okay and you somehow needed to find your way back to who you were before Lando. Before he broke you.

“And avoid you causing social media chaos that I’m going to be dealing with for weeks now?” Lando sneers, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down his nose at you. “Yeah, absolutely.”

You laugh, cold and bitter, as you shake your head. “Thats real nice Lan, real nice.”

“I’m just saying. Now the rumor mills are going to start up again. Whenever you’re at a race, people will be watching to see if you’re with Max again. Or maybe next time it’ll be Lewis. Or maybe you want to go a bit younger? Get a ‘friendly escort home’ from one of the rookies? I’m sure Franco would love to try his hand with you. My girlfriend, the paddock bunny being passed around.”

The ache in your chest grows as he chooses his words carefully, barbed and sharp as glass, so they hit their intending target, cutting through you like butter and causing mortal damage.

“You don’t have to be so mean.” You whisper. “I’m sorry that the pictures hurt your feelings and were taken out of context but you don’t have to be so mean.”

Tears threaten to spill and you will them to stop, knowing that will only fuel Lando’s fire. He loves when he upsets you like this, when he gets to tell you what a drama queen you are. Just like your brother, he would say, always whining and crying on the radio about how Carlos wasn’t being a team player and letting him win when he didn’t deserve it.

“If I’m not the one to give you a reality check, then who will? Your entire family has coddled you for your entire life and you think you deserve some level of respect that you haven’t earned. If you deserved that kind of respect, you would have gone home with your brothers or walked home alone. People who deserve respect don’t put their relationships in jeopardy because they’re afraid to be alone at night.”

“Put our relationship in jeopardy?” You laugh again, rolling your eyes at the audacity of what Lando is saying. “Lan, you really are being a bit over dramatic here, don’t you think? I’m sure the PR department at McLaren will take care of this by the next race, no big deal.”

Lando laughs, dark and bitter as he takes a step towards you. You have to fight the urge not to flinch when he gets closer to you. Deep down, you know he’d never raise a hand to you but it’s hard to remember that when he gets in your face like this. “Now you expect McLaren to clean up your mess?” He hisses. “God, you really are a spoiled little girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m just trying to find a solution to the problem that I seem to have caused.” You snap back, courage flaring in your chest as you stand up a little straighter. Max’s words from earlier play back in your head: ‘anyone with eyes can see who the problem is in your relationship’. “What if I come to the next race? If the two of us turn up in the paddock together, that will help quiet the rumors, don’t you think?”

Lando narrows his eyes, “So you can get more attention from Max? Absolutely not. I’ll have McLaren handle this, okay? Just forget about it.”

You want to scream at his solution because it was the same exact thing you had literally just suggested and been laughed at. But that was the way Lando was. If it wasn’t his idea, it was the worst thing you could have suggested. As long as it was his idea though, it was brilliant and the perfect solution to everything that was wrong. You should have anticipated this coming but you knew it was useless to fight with him.

All at once, your body is overcome with this total wash of exhaustion. Total mental and physical exhaustion grips at your throat and you sway on your feet. “I’m going to go to bed.” You choke you. “In the guest room.” You tack on before turning on your heel and walking away from the fight like you do every time. Lando always gets the last word and as he stands there alone in the living room he feels like he’s won this one. He’ll have to call Sophie in the morning to get her to start working on damage control but for now? For now, he’s sure you realize your mistakes and you won’t put a toe out of line like that for a long time.

Little does he know that all he’d done tonight was push you past your breaking point.

(Quick note!!! If you want to be added to the tag list, I absolutely will but when you request that, can you pleeeeease let me know if you want to be on my general tag list or just the specific fic you're commenting on. ❤️)

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wandaslittlebird · 3 days ago

Text

It Was Never Perfect

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After your perfect week alone with Wanda, the rest of your family comes home. You start to wonder if it was the right choice to even come home in the first place.

CW: R is hella jealous of everyone, stepcest, shitty father, possessive sex, body writing, oral sex, overstimulation, risky sex, Freud’s rolling in his grave, R is a little freak

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This one kinda sucks and it’s very angst heavy. It’s kinda a huge fucking downer but in a slightly ✨sexy✨ way. I promise chapter 5 will be well worth it though. Sorry this took so long to come out!

Part 4 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

For what it’s worth, you did get to wake up in Wanda’s arms on Christmas morning. You were gently shaken awake at 6:30 in the morning with light kisses to your face. “Merry Christmas, little love,” she whispered.

You flopped over onto her chest, a sleepy smile plastered across your face. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The two of you spent the whole morning in bed together, tangled in each other's limbs. You didn’t even get up to brush your teeth before your lips were pressed to hers. Neither of you minded, though. You were far too concerned with having your hands and lips all over each other to let something as silly as morning breath stop you.

Around 9 o’clock though, when your lips had just made their way to her navel, you heard the front door open. Wanda groaned, reluctantly pushing you away and rolling out of bed. She put on a pair of Christmas pajamas and threw you a pair onto the bed. You reluctantly pried yourself off her mattress, putting on the pajamas.

You heard the shouts as soon as she left the bedroom. “Mommy!”s suddenly filled the foyer and the staircase as you heard little footsteps scramble their way up the stairs. The sound made your stomach turn with envy. That was your mama.

You walked out of the bedroom to find everyone in the foyer. Billy and Tommy, your stepbrothers and Wanda’s other children, were wrapped tightly around her waist. Wanda’s real children, you reminded yourself.

She had her arms wrapped around them as she kissed both of their heads. “I missed you boys so much! It’s been so lonely around here without you guys.” She knelt down on the ground, kissing all over their faces in the manner she’d kissed yours only hours ago.

Your stomach went sour. Lonely? She’d spent the week feeling lonely? No. She was lying. She was just saying that to make them feel better. She hadn’t been lonely. She had you. You were all she needed, right?

She only twisted the knife further when she stood up straight to greet your father. “I’ve missed you, my love,” she said softly before taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

You thought you were going to be sick. You turned around and ran into the bathroom, bracing yourself against the sink. This couldn’t be happening. You were her love. You were her baby. You were her favorite, her whole world, the only person she’d ever need. She spent the week telling you so. So why were suddenly feeling like the least important person in this entire house?

You turned on the sink and splashed your face with cool water. You watched yourself in the mirror as the cool water ran down your chin. Suddenly, you were 18 all over again…

—--------

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, getting ready for the day, beaming with pride and excitement. You’d been working for two whole years and it finally paid off. You’d spent months studying to get your GED, then even longer studying to get a near perfect score on your ACT, all to get to this moment: getting accepted to college. A full ride to the local university, nonetheless. Wanda was going to be ecstatic.

You’d found out last night, but you wanted to wait until morning to tell Wanda, when the boys had left for school, your dad had left for work, and it was just the two of you alone. You crept into her office, the piece of paper held firmly in your hands.

By the time you knocked on the door though, Wanda looked tired and pissed. “Mama?” you called into the room, hoping this would cheer her up.

You hadn’t noticed Wanda was on the phone. She put her finger to her lips to indicate you needed to be quiet. You dropped your hands to the side, chewing on your lip impatiently.

“Yeah, okay,” she sighed to the person over the phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

She hung up the phone and threw it into her bag. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly cut off. “I’ve gotta go to the school. Tommy apparently thought it would be funny to shove his brother in a locker,” she said with an exasperated sigh. She picked her bag up from under the desk, practically shoving past you to get out the door.

“But, mama…” you said, trying to run down the stairs after her.

“Can you make sure my computer doesn’t shut off before I get back, please? I’ve gotta go,” she interrupted again, walking out the front door and all but slamming it in your face.

You froze for a minute, heart shattering into a million pieces. Time seemed to stand still as the letter fell from your hand and onto the ground of the foyer. You shrunk into yourself, feeling like the tiniest, most insignificant thing on the entire planet. You tucked your knees to your chest, sitting on the bottom step. Tears poured from your eyes, clogging your sinus until you could hardly breathe. Sobs ripped through your chest, echoing through the foyer so loud it shook the glass chandelier.

It was always going to be like this. You shouldn’t have expected anything less, really. Wanda was never yours to begin with. You were stupid for thinking she cared. You were even stupider to think she cared about you over her own kids. Her real kids. Whatever you thought you had with her, whatever you thought she felt, was a fairytale.

You had a mother, a real one, and she didn’t care about you. You were dealt a shitty hand, and you still thought you could somehow win the game. This “having a mother” thing was simply an impossibility for you. You could toil all you wanted. It was futile. You had already lost.

This was reality. You were alone.

You were already tucked up in the furthest corner of your room when Wanda walked through the front door. “You, young man, are gonna spend the rest of the afternoon in your room finishing up all this homework you missed,” She sternly informed Tommy, sending him angrily up the stairs. He slammed his bedroom door, only furthering Wanda’s fury.

She set down her bag and shoes at the door, huffing. She noticed a piece of paper carelessly discarded on the hardwood. She sighed in annoyance. Did anyone know how to pick up after themselves around here?

She picked up the piece of paper, charging up the stairs. She knocked on your bedroom door.. “Honey? You left this in the foyer. I really need you to start picking up after yourself, okay? You can’t just be leaving things all over the house.”

When you didn’t answer, she huffed again. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work.” She folded up the paper and slid it under the crack of your door without reading it. She went back to her office without another word.

You made your way to the door, taking the letter in your hands and ripping it in half. You weren’t going to that stupid fucking university. You weren’t going to stay in this stupid fucking town. You were done playing house with a family that wasn’t yours. You were done savoring the praise of the woman who wasn’t even your real mom.

You were going to go somewhere new. Somewhere better. You were gonna find people who cared about you.

You didn’t need her. You didn’t need anyone. If no one else was going to be happy for you, you were going to be happy for you. And that was going to be enough. That was going to have to be. There was nothing else.

—--------

You shivered, drying your face before heading downstairs.

“Hey, honey! Look boys! It’s your sister!” Wanda cheered, trying to get the boys excited to see you. They shyly hid behind her legs, scared in the way children get when an unfamiliar presence intrudes on their familiarity. You hadn’t seen them in over two years. You were practically a stranger.

“Are you coming to your grandmother’s with us?” your father asked.

You looked at Wanda. She could immediately read more than just confusion. There was something very wrong. “She’s gonna stay here. With me,” she answered for you.

Your father made no comment, turning back to the boys. “Alright fellas, go bring your bags up to your rooms. We gotta get to grandma’s for presents.”

“Presents” seemed to be the magic word, as the boys immediately ran up the stairs, carrying their bags with them and getting ready to leave again. You, Wanda, and your dad were all left in the foyer.

There was a terribly awkward silence, then Wanda spoke up. “Well,” she started, “speaking of presents, we were just finishing the last of the wrapping up in the bedroom. We should get back to it. So it’s done by the time you all get back. Right?” She looked at you, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

You nodded, desperate to get out of this situation. “Right.”

Wanda wasted no time grabbing your hand and whisking you away. When she reached the top of the steps, she called back down to your father. “We’re wrapping things for you, so don’t come up here!”

She pulled you into the bedroom, shutting the door gently behind you. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What’s wrong, little love?”

Your brow furrowed in something between sadness and anger. “You’re my mama. Mine.”

She cocked her head to the side, trying not to look amused as you were very clearly upset. “Aww, sweetheart,” she whispered with a slight chuckle. “Of course I’m your mama, sweet girl.”

You stood in front of her silently, the same angry and sad look on your face.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that face,” she said quietly, cupping your cheek in her hand. “Is it hard for you to share mama after you’ve had her to yourself all week?”

You nodded, face softening ever so slightly. “You kissed dad! And… and you told the boys you had a bad week with me!”

“Honey,” she said, a bit firmer this time. “That isn’t what I said. I told the boys I missed them. And we both know I take no pleasure in kissing your father. Can you tell me what’s really got you so worked up? Talk to mama.”

You rubbed your arm, hesitant to spill your concerns. “Now that your real family is back you're gonna forget all about me like mom did,” you finally said, speaking just above a whisper.

“Oh sweetheart. No no no. Mama’s not gonna forget about you,” she gently pulled you into her arms, tucking your head just under her chin. “I could never forget about you. You’re mama’s special girl, remember?”

“Promise?” You asked weakly.

“I promise,” she assured.

You stood for a moment, trying to find solace in her arms. When you couldn’t find any, you desperately demanded “say it again.”

But before she could respond you heard your dad shout up from the basement. “Come on boys! We’re gonna be late to grandma’s!”

Wanda pulled away. “I should help them get ready,” she explained, turning to leave the room. You winced as she closed the door, leaving you alone in her room.

You were beyond angry. You were seething, practically vibrating with jealousy.

You sulked to the bed, looking to the nightstand and picking up the black sharpie Wanda was using to write on the gifts last night. You uncapped the marker, staring at the black felt tip. Permanent may not actually mean permanent, but it wouldn’t come off for at least a few days.

You were gonna make sure everyone knew who she belonged to.

It was only a few minutes before you heard Wanda shouting out the front door, wishing the boys and your father safe travels. You waited impatiently, counting each step you heard on her way back to the bedroom.

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, you were on her, tearing at her closer, trying to get her closer. She took your hands in hers, stilling them. “Woah woah woah. Slow down. We have plenty of time.”

But when she looked in your eyes, she didn’t see the same seductive, blissful face she’d seen this morning where you’d left off before your dad got home. No. You were angry. Possessive. Jealous.

“So that’s how this is gonna be,” she conceded with a smirk. She didn’t say anything more, but she looked almost excited. You didn’t respond, holding that same dangerous glare. She let go of your hands, giving you silent permission to continue.

You pushed her body backwards until it hit the wall. You lips met hers in a harsh, bruising kiss that would leave both your lips swollen. You only pulled away for a moment to rip her shirt off over her head. She moaned as your hands pawed at her breast, squeezing them hard enough to hurt. You teased her nipples between your pointer finger and thumb, pinching and pulling them until she yelped.

When you were sure her lips were puffy and raw, you made your way down her body, kneeling in front of her until you were face to face with her center. You looked up at her hungrily as you slowly pulled at the waistband of her pajama pants. “Say it again, mama. Tell me I’m special and you love me the most.”

She gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up and stroking your cheekbone with her thumb. Even in your lustful, jealous haze there was a moment of peace when she said “You’re my most special girl, little love. Mama loves you more than anything in the world.”

You made short work of pulling her underwear and pants the rest of the way down. You gently kissed her mound before hungirly diving into her core, sucking her clit into your mouth. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open in a blissful expression. She reached down and grabbed your hair, keeping you pressed tight against her. “Oh… fuck… please… oh my love…”

She threw her leg over your shoulder, pulling you even closer as your tongue circled her entrance. You reached up to stead her waist with your hands, holding her in place. “You’re making mama feel so good baby. Fuck I love you so much,” she panted, her legs starting to shake. She pulled one of your hands from her waist, holding it tight for support.

“You’re gonna make mama cum, baby,” she breathed, arching away from the wall. You could feel her heel digging into your back as her wetness coated your tongue. You were addicted to her taste, and determined to be the only one who ever got the privilege of tasting her again. Your nails dug into the skin of her thigh as her hand tightened in your hair. She came with a silent scream, nearly collapsing to the ground against the wall.

She smiled at you, satisfied. But you had that same hungry look in your eye. A look that told her you were far from done.

“Say it again,” you demanded weakly. As angry as you were, you still just looked so little and desperate. You just wanted to be loved. You just wanted your mama.

“Baby,” she cooed. She was still panting and disheveled. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Say. It. Again.” You commanded, biting down on your own lip.

“You are my most precious angel. My most special girl,” she repeated.

Wordlessly, you laid on your stomach in front of her, your face hovering over her sex. You blew cool air against the sensitive skin. You brought two fingers to her entrance, which, coated with the remains of her orgasm, gave no resistance.

“Ah,” she hummed, “careful baby. Mama’s very sensitive. Oh fuck…”

She bucked into your hand as your fingers curled to meet that special spot inside of her. You lowered your head, pulling her clit back into your mouth and flicking it lightly with the tip of your tongue. She threw her head back, arching herself further into your mouth. She groaned as you added a third finger, pumping yourself in and out of her in rhythm with your tongue.

She grabbed your hair, chanting your name and grinding herself against you. “No one else can do this to me baby. It’s only you. Only you can make mama fall apart like this.” Her words encouraged you and you doubled down, circling her sensitive bud with your tongue.

“Honey… fuck you’re gonna make mama cum again,” she breathed, biting down hard on her lip as she came around your fingers.

This time, you didn’t pull away, continuing your ministrations even after her orgasm subsided.

“Please baby… I can’t…” she panted. She squirmed against your tongue, trying to escape the ceaseless pleasure. You pulled your fingers away, instead wrapping both your arms around her thighs. You held her in place, determined to draw one final orgasm from her.

You alternated between her entrance and her clit, pressing your tongue hard against her. Her legs trembled around your head, unable to handle the sensation. You hummed around her clit, spelling your name with your tongue over and over again.

She came faster this time, forcibly pushing you away as she sprayed a stream of cum onto the carpet. You watched in fascination. You had never seen anyone cum that hard. She went limp against the wall, exhausted.

You helped her up onto the bed, letting her rest against the headboard. You ran to the bathroom quickly to get her a glass of water and a towel, just like she always did for you.

“Thank you,” she smiled, gratefully accepting them both. She had taught you so well.

You knelt down between her legs, laying your head down on her stomach. “I love you, mama,” you said softly, nuzzling into her navel.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she replied, running her fingers gently through your hair. “Are you feeling better now? Do you think you can play nice with your dad and brothers?”

You didn’t respond. You felt better, but swirling thoughts still lingered on your mind. You thought about your father taking your place in her bed. Would she let him touch her like you had? Would he draw the same heavenly sounds from her? Would she tell him she loved the way he touched her too? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You could deal with kisses, the hugs, the words of affection, but you couldn’t deal with that.

You sat up and grabbed the sharpie from the nightstand, uncapping with your teeth. She grabbed your wrist. “Honey. We can’t. You know that.”

“He’s not allowed to see you here!” You screamed in despair, pointing at her lower abdomen.

She looked into your desperate eyes. Sex was a scarcity between her and your father anyway. He almost certainly wouldn’t see it. She would just have to be careful getting in and out of the shower. The risk was high, but, if it could bring you even a little relief, the reward was higher. She sighed. “Alright, sweetheart. Keep it below the waist and above the mid thigh.”

You started with your name, big and bold just below her abdomen. You wrote it smaller in cursive on her inner thighs and then initialled and put a heart right next to each of her nipples before sitting back to admire your creation.

You added a few more hearts along her pelvis before capping the marker and putting it back on the nightstand.

Your dialated eyes and possessive gaze didn’t escape Wanda’s notice. She reached up and rubbed your chin. “I’m all yours baby. Do you like that? Knowing no one else gets to touch mama like you do? Nobody else makes mama feel so good.”

You nodded eagerly. “Not even dad because you love me more than him, right.”

She smiled gently and pulled you down to rest against her bare chest. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart. Not even your father makes me feel like you do.” She tapped the tip of your nose affectionately. “Now let’s get this shirt off so mama can hold you nice and close.”

You put your arms up so she could pull the dense sweater from your body. She discarded it to the side along with the clothes you’d torn off her earlier. You laid flat against her warm skin. Her nails gently scratched up and down your back. “There we go. That’s my sweet girl. Do you feel better now?”

You nodded against her chest, wrapping your arms around her in the tight space between her body and the mattress. She played with your hair, silently at first, but then she started to sing softly. You recognize the tune, but the words were in Wanda’s native language.

You laid like that for a long time, listening to the soft beat of her heart, until the front door opened again and you heard two sets of little feet running through the foyer. Reluctantly, you peeled yourself away and put back on your sweater.

Once you were both dressed, you reached to unlock the door, but Wanda grabbed your hand.

“Wait. One more thing,” she said, turning you around to face her. She knelt down in front of you and lifted your shirt. “Hold this.”

You cocked your brow in confusion, but held your sweater up. It was only when she lifted her hand to touch your stomach that you noticed the sharpie between her fingers. You felt the cool tip glide across your stomach, just above your navel. In her neat cursive penmanship, she had written “Mama’s Special Girl”. She capped the marker and grabbed your hip on either side, pulling you close and kissing your stomach. The kiss left a distinct red lipstick print just under her words. You beamed as you looked down at what she had left.

She climbed to her feet, dropping your sweater to cover the message. “Alright. Let’s go have Christmas.”

—--------

Despite your reservations, Christmas went better than expected. It helped that your father, in his usual shitty mood, left to go take a nap, claiming he was exhausted and it just couldn’t wait. No one protested.

The boys opened their presents with all the excitement expected of 8 year olds. It did actually make you feel better that they warmed up to you quickly. Maybe you couldn’t be the only person in Wanda’s life, but it was nice to least be part of her family. You kept your hand on your stomach, soothing yourself with the thought of the special words that sat just underneath the fabric.

Wanda, as usual, went way overboard with the gifts, despite you not asking for anything. Some of them were marked “From: Dad” or “From: Santa”, but you knew they were all from her. She had gotten you some dorm room decorations, a lego set, and every item off of your amazon wishlist, a list you didn’t even know she still had access to. She must’ve kept the link from years ago when you still lived at home.

Once all the presents were gone, the boys ran happily around the house, playing with their newly acquired toys. Wanda smiled from her spot next to you on the couch, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Did you get everything?”

You smiled and nodded. “And more. What about you?”

She rubbed your chin affectionately. “Well, you’re here. So you tell me.”

You chuckled and looked nervously down at your lap. “There’s actually something else.”

“Oh?” she asked cheekily.

You got up from the couch and grabbed an envelope from the mantle. You fidgeted nervously with the corner as you brought it to Wanda on the couch. “To: Mama” was scrawled in your messy handwriting on the back.

She carefully opened the envelope revealing an acceptance letter. A full ride scholarship to your local university for the spring semester. You were coming home. For good.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes brimmed with tears. “Is this… are you…”

You nodded and she grabbed you, pulling you down on the couch with her in a tight hug. “I love you so much. After my boys, I never thought I could ever be so lucky to get another special blessing in my life. But I found you,” she cradled your head in close. “And I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #mommy!wanda #wanda maximoff x y/n #stepmom wanda #stepmom!wanda

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reikomizuao3 · 3 days ago

Text

I prefer multichapter fics because I read too damn fast, lol

both?

My muse and i scream at each other for hours until a chapter gets written. sometimes hours turns into months

mostly in music but sometimes reading other books/fics

I would appreciate more constructive criticism, I don't get very much of it

I am my own beta and it is an extremely important process to me

I prefer third-person narration so that's how all my stories are written

The climax is the best part

I try to comment on every story I read but sometimes I genuinely can't think of anything to say

Nothing came up!

Mama Bear by ArcticVulpix; She's Mine Then by ArcticVulpix; The Liberating Power of Radical Forgiveness by green_carnation_product

Not getting feedback is EXTREMELY UNMOTIVATING. I want to know why people read my stories, I want to know what my readers like and don't like.

writing an idea as soon as it pops up in my head. I have ADHD and am likely to forget the idea within literal seconds

I put myself into the shoes of the characters, I often end up crying

I uh.....have to get off to write smut, and I'm not very good at it

Right now I'm just trying to finish the fics I currently have posted

I like nature, so I tend to go for long walks when I have the opportunity. Mostly just try to get through life until the inspiration strikes again

It depends on the story. most of the time, I'll write a plot summary before the title

"Bad Grandparent Alma Madrigal" and "Alma Madrigal Bashing" kinda go hand in hand together

I noticed that I use Alma from Encanto to vent my anger and trauma from my mother a LOT

I WOULD LOVE TO!! Where oh where are you dear co-author?!?

Incest, pedophilia, rape. Pretty much my worst triggers.

Don't give up, and don't be afraid. There's someone out there who will LOVE your work

I don't think I've ever actually gotten bad writing advice

Bad Miracle. It's an Encanto horror AU, horror is my favorite genre and it's my first time writing a horror story.

Tres Oruguitas. It's my longest fic and I'm currently struggling to finish the final chapter

The actual writing process, lol

Sometimes a sentence, sometimes 3000 words

Refer back to answer 3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SEE MY ROUGH DRAFTS BUT ME

Depends on the story

TheCuriousCalico (RIP), ArcticVulpix, GamerBearMira

I'm currently working on three different novels

Published and living comfortably

Sometimes people are just fucking evil. Not every villain needs a tragic backstory

Very badly

When it feels right

Sounds fun

I REFUSE

@gamerbearmira has done amazing fanart from my fic Whatever it Takes which really warmed my heart!

I'm ALWAYS rereading fics!

Would You Rather? - With Your Lovely Host, Casita! Yes I would recommend

I don't take joy in it, but it's great for venting

Refer back to answer 6

BOTH!!! MUAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

driven by trauma

it depends, lol

Refer back to answer 6

Block and delete

Tres Orguitas at 87,110 words

Total word count: 170,234

I don't always respond to comments, I'm a low energy potato

50/50 split

finally posting a chapter

I just love Mirabel Madrigal so much, she's my little cinnamon roll

I like using big words, call me pretentious

I edit as I write

Brainstorming

I tell everyone, I'm not ashamed

I was a little starstruck, lol. don't have to be a celebrity to get that out of me XD

cause i like it

I have a love/hate relationship with cliffhangers

When a woman's vagina is referred to as "her sex", I click off IMMEDIATELY

lesbians written correctly

I can't wait to finally write the last chapter of Tres Oruguitas

When people pressure me to update, I remind them that I'm a human being and you cannot force me to write faster. Also I WORK FULL TIME, I barely have time to write fanfic!

I love a good prompt. A couple of my stories are inspired continuations of other fics

listen to music, watch tv, take long walks, read books

I'm not embarrassed of any of my current works, though I do think this fic is the worst: The Accident: Alternate Ending (note: If you've never read 'The Accident' by Diane Hoh, you will not understand the context)

ENTHUSIASTIC AS FAWK

I have several notebooks dedicated to each fic and I will fine comb them before updating my stories (but my ADHD will still scramble things up a bit, lol)

most of the time i write the ending first only for the plot to end up completely different

My love of tormenting the Madrigal family (Encanto has become my vent fic fandom XD)

Does it have the "Alma Madrigal bashing" tag? Do the Madrigals suffer before getting a happy ending?

Currently, this last chapter of Tres Oruguitas is KICKING MAH ASSSSSSS

In Tres Oruguitas, Alma was going to have a brief reunion with the family at Antonio's request, but would have been banished/killed by the miracle

In Tres Oruguitas, Bruno and Alejandro cuddling in the library for the first time. Allow me to sample you a snippet:

Deciding he needed more cuddles by virtue of being adorable, Alejandro lifted Bruno up with ease, causing him to yelp loudly as the floor was suddenly no longer beneath him. Alejandro chuckled, cradling the startled man close to his chest as he settled them down on the couch. Bruno clung to him, face redder than the tomatoes in the garden, and only loosened his grip when he was sure he wasn’t going to fall.

“I-uh—heh. You startled me. Maybe a little warning next time?” Bruno hid his face in the large man’s chest, wondering how they’d gone from discussing books to cuddling on the couch.

“That’s fair. I couldn’t help myself, you’re just so cute, and I wanted to cuddle you forever.” He gave Bruno a gentle squeeze, running a hand through his curls.

“U-um, that’s—wow, you think I’m cute?”

“Yeah, you’re my adorable ratoncito.”

Bruno’s face may as well have been glowing at this point, and he let out an embarrassed squeak. Alejandro cooed at him, giving him another gentle squeeze.

Get to know your fic writer!

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Do you like constructive criticism?

Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?

How do you choose which POV to write from?

Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Do you comment on stories you read?

Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Link your three favorite fics right now

how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

Best writing advice for other writers?

Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

What’s your revision or editing process like?

Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

Do you want to be published some day?

Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

How do you write kissing scenes?

How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Would you ever write commissions?

Share a snippet from a WIP

If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

What do you look for in a beta?

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

How long is your longest fic?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished?

What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

Why do you continue writing fics?

Thoughts on cliffhangers?

Something you hate to see in smut.

Something you love to see in smut.

Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

What work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

What order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

What scene in [Fanfic Name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it?

Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]?

Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter?

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buryhny · 3 days ago

Text

One Night Stand ; 43 ⋆.

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

☆ jungkook x y/n ☆ contains smut, fluff and angst ☆ chapter forty three ; wc | 5.4k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Jungkook is quiet, hasn't said a word, not even a hum, and it's seriously bothering you. He is seated right next to you in the lounge, the silence is unsettling and worrying. This isn't like him, and it frightens you. Turning to him, you ask for what feels like the hundredth time,

"Hey, please tell me what's wrong." he gives you the same answer, "I'm fine y/n, it's nothing." His sudden behavior change is worrying. He was so happy and excited when you two were about to leave for the airport, but something must've happened to make him leave the house with such a gloomy look like something was bothering him.

In Jungkook's mind, there's a storm of thoughts eating away at him. Why would your mom say something like that to him? And even if she did, why did it have to be so hateful? He just can't wrap his head around why she pretended to care about him while feeling so low about him all along. he keeps thinking about what she said and he can't help but feel afraid of everything now. he's hurt, hurt that he thought he could find a mother figure in his life and she ended up pretending?

Jungkook keeps thinking about it over and over again and it only makes him furious. You've explained everything to your parents, what your relationship status is too and even though your mother is aware of all the ups and downs and how you both are starting slow, she spoke to him so rudely? His frown gets even deeper, and it makes you so uneasy you can't even figure out why he might be upset. You don't want to bother him with a bunch of questions, so you just stay quiet and wait for him to talk when he's ready.

When you both board the flight and take your seats, Jungkook helps you adjust your seatbelt without saying a word. Then, he puts out his hand for you to hold as the plane takes off. That small gesture is a relief—it's obvious he's not mad at you, at least. Now and then, you peek over to look at him, only to find him asleep. A few times, he caught you staring and asked if you needed anything or had to rush to the bathroom again,

but you just shook your head to reassure him. when you think about it, the reason he must be upset could be that his birthday is coming soon, in just 3 days. after all, he's told you the whole tale of his life and what a nightmare it had been with his ex-girlfriend, on the day of his birthday. You're uncertain, but even the small chance of it being the reason makes your heart. You have already been planning something special for his birthday and now,

you want to make it the best day of this year. this brings you some hope and a smile on your face when you think about all the little surprises you've made, you can't wait to get back home and prepare for it. secretly. the flight was long and Jungkook peeped many times to look over at you, to check if you were doing okay, feeling cold or hungry but you didn't care to ask the air hostess for food. you'll notice him looking so you would remove one side of the headphones and raise your eyebrows to which he shakes his head.

"you okay?" you ask, he nods at you and passes the chocolate he received from the staff to you. he doesn't eat sweets so whatever they offer him, he gives it to you so you can enjoy doubling the treats. "hey..." you murmur when he tries to rest back. "yeah?" he'll come forward. "you want mo-" "i', fine..." you interrupt him from questioning about food again. "I just want you to know that you can tell me anything." you whisper to which he deeply exhales. Jungkook doesn't know how to put this into words.

He doesn't want you to agree with your mother, but he also doesn't want you to resent her. After all, she's not entirely wrong. As a mother—and the mother of her only daughter—she has every right to worry about your future, especially given your traditional background. Her concerns aren't unfounded, no matter how much they might sting.

he gives you a tight smile and puts his hand over so you can hold it. and when you do, he leans in and kisses the back of your palm, leaving butterflies inside your stomach. The baby has been unusually active the past few days, and it fills you with a kind of warmth you can't describe. Every kick, every flutter—

it's like a secret language shared just between the two of you. You want Jungkook to feel it too, not just with his hand on your bump, but with every fiber of his being. You want him to truly connect, to let it sink into his heart and soul, the way it does for you. You know he'll agree when you ask, without hesitation, and his touch will be gentle, reverent even.

But you hope that after his birthday surprises, when he sees all the love and effort you've poured into making him feel special, he'll fully embrace this new chapter. You're certain that in those moments, he'll step into the role of the loving father he's always dreamed of being—the one he's never let himself believe he could be.

;

The ride back home was at 4;30 am and was heavy with silence, the kind that settled deep into your chest. But no matter how much you tried to hold it in, you couldn't resist the sudden urge to stay close to him or to at least feel his warmth so you placed your head on his shoulder. Jungkook flinched slightly but immediately relaxed, he caressed your hair and that made you smile.

You can't wait to be back home and to cuddle the man as you both share the same bed. "Bammie" you call out for the dog as soon as the doors open, you've missed the boy so much, even though it had been just a weekend getaway. Bam comes running to you both, jumping to greet you. "oh my god, he's getting the zoomies!!"

you exclaim and bend slightly to hold his paws. "oh my Bammie, come to mama!!" you walk to the couch so you can pet him because you can't bend down as you did before. His tail wags and his whines get loud as you walk beside him, Jungkook looks at the two of you and chuckles. He can't stay mad when you both look so cute, he wants to frame this moment so bad.

"my bam-bam, come here." he jumps on the couch and begins to lick you, making you a giggling mess. Jungkook places the luggage inside removes his coat and throws it away. He interrupts you two and straight walks into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water and juice for you. "Bammie, Bammie, Bammie!!" you murmur his name a couple of times, placing kisses all around his body like Jungkook does.

"you're the sweetest boy ever, aren't you? You're the cutest, right? Of course, you are!!" Jungkook didn't realize how much you missed bam and even though his mood was completely off, he still smiled at the sight of you two. "go to appa!" you push him to go to Jungkook while you remove your coats. the dog rushes to his owner and jumps near him, so Jungkook grabs his paws and kneels. "bam-ah"

he mutters and giggles at the ticklish licks the dog gives him. "go back to y/n." he gets on his feet and walks towards you. "y/n have this juice." he hands you a bottle of fresh strawberry juice. "thanks.." You glance at him and can't help but notice how exhausted he looks. You're tired too, but Jungkook's tension seems to weigh heavier, making the dark circles under his eyes far more prominent. You want to ease his burden somehow,

but you have no idea what's troubling him, and asking isn't an option since he doesn't respond. The two of you head upstairs to his room—or rather, the room you now share. You feel the need for a warm shower, imagining how much better it would make you feel. But then you see Jungkook pulling a suit from his closet, and that's when you're completely at a loss.

"hey? Where are you going?" you ask him in confusion, he glances over his shoulder and huffs. "work y/n. It's a Monday.." 'yeah of course you know it's a fucking Monday!!' "but you need some rest, you- you can go back to work freshly tomorrow." you tell him, you hear him exhale as he pauses his selection of tie for a minute before resuming. "I don't need rest, I'm fine."

his response says everything, he isn't speaking gently, he isn't looking at you, he isn't touching you and fuck, he doesn't call you by nicknames! "please take some rest, it was a long flight. You're not gonna be well." you murmur out of concern, you don't want him to overwork and he needs sleep, he barely closed his eyes the entire flight, you know he didn't sleep.

"I'm fine y/n! I am." this time his words were slightly louder than he usually is and you know, he's got some issue so you don't say anything anymore. If he is stubborn, then be it. "fine." you leave his room and lock yourself in the shower of your previous washroom. You're kinda frustrated and the way he responds isn't making things better.

You care for him but if he doesn't care for himself then it's not something you can help. You focus on pampering yourself so you walk into the shower and set a nice bubble bath. Until then you look for cake designs so you can plan something special for his birthday. You also have another surprise in mind that you can't do by yourself, so you text Hobi for some help.

y/n; Hey Hoba, how's everything? All well?

You strip your clothes and get comfortable inside the bathtub. Moans leave your lips at how perfectly warm the water is. It's exactly what you need after a 13-hour long flight. "Baby, you need to stop kicking me now. Let Mama relax," you mumble and giggle at the sight of the movement you can see, with your belly popping out of the bubbles.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is utterly frustrated with himself for speaking to you that way. It wasn't your fault for being worried about him. He can't stop replaying everything your mother said in his mind. The rude tone of her words no longer stings—it's what they imply that troubles him now. Does marriage even cross your mind?

He realizes there are still parts of you he doesn't fully understand. He knows you well, but not completely. The two of you haven't discussed the nature of your relationship yet, leaving him uncertain about where you stand. What gnaws at him most is the possibility that you might be feeling conflicted but choose not to tell him, all because he's intent on taking things slow.

He doesn't want to upset you but he also can't change his mood and feelings so fast. It is almost 6;30 am after he showered and took some rest, he decided to go to work and check everything since he left his staff to handle everything while he was away, he plans to come home early and sort things out by then. Jungkook adjusts his tie and walks out of the room, he peeps into your room and sees you freshly dressed in a crop top.

You are sleeping under the blanket and Bam sleeps beside you with his head on your neck. Jungkook knows that you're tired so he didn't want to disturb you, so he left for work after taking a long look at you and informed Maya to take care of you while he was away.

;

You woke up to the delicious smell of Korean food. It's about 1 pm, you had a good sleep since you were fucking tired. Your muscles feel so relaxed and the stretching was mm-hmm. you were about to step out of your room when you felt a striking pain in your back and feet. "fuck.." you slowly walked back inside the room and took a seat on the couch, applying some pressure to the areas that hurt. "dear..."

Maya enters your room with a knock and soon places the food on the glass table. "are you fine?" She asks, and you shake your head. "I'm fine—just some aches here and there." She nods in understanding, lifting your foot onto her lap and gently massaging it, bringing soothing relief to your cramps. "Here, have your lunch,"

she says, handing you a dish of bibimbap and kimchi, her smile warm and knowing. She's aware of how much you adore her cooking—it's always met with your praises. "Mmm, Maya... you're truly a gift from above!" you groan, your mouth full of rice and veggies, head falling back against the couch in bliss. It's not just the delicious food; the soft, comforting massage on your feet makes the moment pure perfection.

The plate sits on your bump, truly useful now that it's all big and round, it can hold much stuff! "how was the trip, dear?" she questions curiously. "oh it was messy, to begin with, but Then it was lovely, my parents were accepting- though it took them some time.." you say, recalling how nervous you both were at the doorstep, just how crazy it was the whole day, you wouldn't ever want to experience that in your life ever again.

it was horrific, way worse than the day you found out you were pregnant. It has to be the pressure and the worry of acceptance. Your parents are kind and open-minded, but also... are they that open-minded to accept your child for a mistake? That was the haunting question but anyway, it all ended pretty well so you're glad that it was all a 2-day thing.

Maya and you engage in a conversation about baby clothing and the other items that will be useful for the future, which you're supposed to shop for now. Your screen lights up with a response from Hobi.

Hoba; hey y/n!!! I'm good. How are you and the little one?

y/n; all good, the little one is being very naughty. Anyway hoseok, I want your help...

Hoba; say right away

You needed his help to surprise Jungkook, only a trustworthy friend could help and of course, it was him. so you shared the plan with him by text and told him all the details that you had.

Hoba; omfg i'm so down!!!!Just wait for it cheesecake, I'm gonna make this plan 100 times better.

You giggle at his response, he's a sweetheart and you're so glad you found a true friend here in Seoul. You plan the rest of the stuff that's needed for Jungkook's birthday because it's just 2 days away and there's quite a bit to do. You also need the staff's help so you tell Maya about what needs to be done and without any doubt she was already getting the items according to your color and taste. You want to do this for him.

Jungkook deserves so much, and if you can do something—just one little thing—that changes how he feels about birthdays, it'll be worth it. His hatred for them comes from so much pain, but love heals everything, right?

And you're going to show him that love wins every time. You'll give him all the love, care, and support to turn this one day into the best one he's had all year. It's not just you in on this, either. It's the two of you now. Your little one is part of the plan, too. This baby is going to change his life, no question, and you'll make sure it's for the better. Together, you're going to make this day unforgettable.

;

You spent the day like usual—binging TV series and playing with Bam. But what surprised you was when the doorbell rang. Glancing down from upstairs, you saw the staff answering it, and soon after, a couple of workers entered the house. Confusion set in as they started decorating the room you were staying in and moving your belongings to another one.

Maya caught your deepening frown and chuckled before explaining, "Sir wants to turn this room into a nursery! for the little one." That's when everything clicked. Of course, it made sense now. Your belongings were being moved to Jungkook's room, while the room you'd been staying in was being transformed into a nursery.

After all, it's the closest room to his—and now, yours too. You could not hold back the large smile that grew on your face. There's no way Jungkook was doing this. A nursery?!! So what- is everything set? Are you gonna be living with him? The baby too? You could not contain the happiness you felt, you could vomit sparkles, sprinkles and glitter. "Ma'am, we were told to ask your preferences for the decoration—the colors you'd like."

You didn't even think about it at first, your brain kind of lagging for a second. "Uh..." You're not the type to stick to the typical pink-for-girls, blue-for-boys thing. It doesn't make sense to you. You want your kid to love any color they want, no matter what. "Purple would be nice... I like purple." the workers had come to clear the area up so you can decide on which items go where and do the painting according to the colors you want.

Your stuff was arranged in the closet. It had been divided between Jungkook and you and honestly, that makes your stomach clench at how crazy that is. You're now sharing a room with him, entirely. Not just the bed but his closet and everything else.

It's becoming your room as much as it is his. Your plushies sleep on the bed because you didn't want them to be seated on the frame, plushies are meant to sleep with you and you can't sleep without your avocado. You wanted to be helpful too but Maya wouldn't allow you to take a step so you had to watch her arrange them with the other maids.

The closet seems full now and it's so lovely to see it becoming yours. Even though Jungkook had unknowingly brightened your day, a lingering worry still gnawed at you. He hadn't texted you all day, and that's just so not like him. You can't help but feel uneasy, but you try to push those thoughts aside. Instead, you focus on the nursery.

You're determined to make it lively, full of energy, and as colorful as possible. You start brainstorming, imagining bright shades of every color filling the space. But at the heart of it all, purple will take the lead. It's your favorite color, and it's soothing and comforting—something about it just calms you.

You picture soft purple walls and Jungkook and you stand beside the cot, cradling the little one to sleep while you two watch your newborn. It sounds like a dream, like a movie's ending and you can't wait for that day to come. Your hands caress your bump as you imagine lovely beginnings.

;

The night comes by and Jungkook returns home in exhaustion. He's drained out mentally and physically. he wants to talk to you about what your mother said to him but when he sees you walking fast towards him with utmost difficulty with that big bump of yours, he can't help but smile at that sight. "Jungkook!!! oh my god."

you hug his waist while he is removing his coat, and he giggles at your excitement, he knows exactly why you are all giddy and excited. "calm down, calm down there." "How can I?!! I forgot about a nursery until they knocked on the door. I- am so excited. so I think we; 're gonna do this with purple but I'll also like a splash of the other colors but- we make it pastel and-"

You keep on and on and Jungkook can't help but raise his eyebrows at the speed you talking. You're so excited, he sees it all over your face, your glowing and beaming and he loves this so much, he loves the look of happiness and excitement in you. it's crazy how his thoughts and anxiety just vanished into thin air when you ran towards him and hugged him.

he couldn't find the words to describe you but then he knew... you're light to his darkness, the energy to his lifeless body and heart and he can't tell how much you mean to him. he keeps looking at you go on and on about something he doesn't even know. what were you talking about again? Was it food? oh no no, you were talking about some colored pasta?

"shhh y/n...hey... take a breath." he says with a chuckle and you laugh too, taking some breaths because that was a train speed of talk. "we can talk about everything later... i- I need to freshen up." he murmurs and you nod. "yes- yes, please. god, you need to rest- did you have dinner? I think maybe ha-" "I'm okay... I'm okay....did you have dinner?"

he asks and you look around the room. "I was hungry-" "That's okay, I'm glad you had early dinner." he says with a smile. "I'll shower and then we can talk." you nod as you watch him walk upstairs while you grab yourself some water. you feel relieved that Jungkook came home with a smile and was also speaking much better than he was before.

you get some water for him too and walk upstairs after giving Bam some good night kisses and pats. "Jungkook I got you a glass of wa-" You enter the room to be met with a sleepy Jungkook. There he was, sprawled across the bed in exhaustion, One arm dangled off the edge of the mattress, while the other rested limply over his stomach.

The sheets were barely covering him, bunched up and crumpled around his legs as if he had tossed them aside in his sleep and the faint scent of his shampoo lingered in the air, still fresh from his shower. you melt at the sight of him, he was tired and in need of sleep. you have no idea why he was so grumpy and quiet but you think he might be better tomorrow once he'd gotten his hours of sleep. you place the glass on the bedside table,

remove the towel from his hand place it inside the washroom bar and turn off the main light. gently without disturbing him, you pulled the sheets from his feet to drape them over his body. Switching on the lamp, the room filled with a soft, warm glow. You slipped onto the bed beside him, careful not to disturb the peaceful rhythm of his breathing.

He looked so beautiful like this, lost in sleep. His lips were slightly parted, his face relaxed, and his hair, now free from the gel was an untamed mess, damp strands curling naturally against his skin. You couldn't help but reach out, letting your fingers gently brush his forehead. You smoothed his hair back, feeling the soft texture beneath your fingertips as you combed through the damp locks.

He stirred just slightly, leaning into your touch like it was second nature, but didn't wake. your fingers continue to caress his hair while you admire him, Jungkook stirred, shifting to his side, his movements slow and hazy, like his body wasn't entirely his yet. His eyes fluttered open, heavy-lidded and unfocused, blinking a few times as if testing the waking world.

He smacked his lips softly, the faint taste of sleep lingering on his tongue before his eyelids drooped again. you chuckle at that before turning to your opposite side so you can drift to sleep too. Jungkook shifts closer, nuzzling into your neck as his arm drapes over your waist in a lazy, possessive hold. A soft, contented sound escapes his lips, almost a moan, as he melts into the faint warmth your body offers.

You've always been the cooler half; his perfect contrast. Even with the air conditioner making your skin cold, your neck somehow retains a subtle warmth that he craves. He doesn't like warmth meeting warmth; as the naturally warmer one, he seeks the chill that balances him out.

Your body does it effortlessly, the coolness soothing him, grounding him, making him press closer like he's found the perfect spot in a restless world. Jungkook relaxes as he drifts to sleep immediately.

;

Jungkook was already gone to work by the time you woke up, he did leave you a message that having a couple of meets would keep him busy the entire day so you wished him luck on that and chose to keep yourself busy too with the birthday preparations.

as you give it s thought you kind of feel like Jungkook is intentionally keeping himself busy, could be because it's his birthday or another reason which you aren't aware of. Whatever it is, you hope he comes back home early. Or even if he does come late, you hope he won't sleep like he did yesterday, that would ruin all your plans that you've saved for midnight to surprise him on his 30th birthday.

Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn't even realize what day it is. He's completely unaware that tomorrow's September 1st, his birthday. He's too caught up in work, using it as a way to keep busy and avoid thinking about anything relationship-related.

Honestly, he's not ready to talk about that yet. He knows there's stuff to discuss, but he's still trying to wrap his head around it all. But even with everything going on, he can't help but look forward to the weekend. He wants to get through all the work so he can spend the days with you, doing something he's never done before, baby shopping.

He wants to shop for baby clothing, the cot, the toys and so much more, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to get but he wants to get it all. He also wants to discuss the whole nursery situation with you, the detailing and colors. There's just about a month left and there's so much to do. He wants to be in every step now, so he doesn't miss out on the last few weeks of your first pregnancy and his first fatherhood experience.

;

It's about 7 pm when the doorbell rings with your phone's ringtone at the same time. It hooks and you rush downstairs carefully to take the items from him and of course to see the man himself. "Hey Hoba!!" oh my goodness, y/n!"

he walks inside fast and places the cake and other bags inside the room that you told him to and then he jumps on you and gives you the biggest- yet mist gentle hug he could ever manage. "I'm so so so excited for you!!! Congratulations!!" you giggle at his words as he continues to give you one of the longest hugs he has given anyone in a long time.

"thanks hoba, thanks for everything-" "Oh shut up!! I'm so fucking happy you chose me to do all this arrangement for you." he pulls away and holds your hands. has got the brightest smile on his face, beaming with joy and happiness which radiates to you and makes you happy too. "and I'm forever grateful, no one could do all this except you. Thank you so much Hoseok!!"

you say and he nods at your words, his eyes lighting up but with so much love that you fail to see. "please call me in the morning!" "Oh I will!!!" you both laugh. "Mr. Jeon's house is beautiful, I mean what else can you expect from the CEO of jeon industries, I'm so not surprised." he mutters as his eyes look around the details and effort of the mansion his CEO built with his own money. "and- to have you. Jackpot." "Stop it."

you hit his arm, cracking in laughter again but a hue on your cheeks as a sign of blushing. "I think whatever Jungkook has now, he deserves it so much. I'm not talking about me, because to be deserving of him, I have to work harder-" "You don't have to," Hoseok murmurs, his voice softer than usual. You glance at his face and catch a glimpse of something in his eyes, sadness, maybe? You don't know why, but it's there, hidden behind a fleeting expression.

Then, he smiles, the warmth returning to his face as he looks at you. "He loves you for a reason," he continues, his words steady now, "and that's because you are you." He pauses, almost like he's reassuring himself too, before adding, "He deserves you, and you deserve him. That's all I know." His eyes shift to your belly, and his smile widens.

"And this little one? The luckiest baby in the world." You can feel the sincerity in his words, and you both smile at his words as you get to the kitchen to offer him some juice. "oh no no, I'm fine y/n please don't trouble yourself-" "just one juice-" "I need to leave y/n, I must go, I've got some work on the way." he insists so you nod and hug him bye at the doorstep.

Here you are, all alone in this massive mansion, feeling so pumped about everything you've got in the works. Jungkook texted to say he'll be late, and honestly, you're kind of glad. It means you don't have to rush or stress about hiding the surprise just yet. The orders are here, the deco is done and you're ready too. The enthusiasm everyone showed for Jungkook's birthday celebrations really highlights how much they all care about him.

They were so eager to help in any way they could and managed to make you feel even more excited about everything. It's a testament to how Jungkook treats them, they may be staff, but they truly admire and respect him as their boss. Their genuine love for him is evident in their words, actions, and the respect they show.

the genuine support and care they show you, proves that they don't just work here, they've built a wonderful relationship with you and the baby too. they're ever so excited to know the gender and you cant wait for the big reveal tonight and the morning when everyone is present.

you keep looking at the time, the clock strikes 9pm and its still ticking but there's no sign of Jungkook. you're well aware that he's busy but he should've been home way earlier. you try not to worry about it and look at the deco all over again, just in case there's any mistake even though you've already checked it for the 15th time of the hour.

The entire scene playing out in your mind feels so magical—him walking home after a long day, and you casually forcing him to shower downstairs because apparently something's wrong with the washroom you both share now.

He doesn't question it, changes into his casuals, and spends time with you like it's any ordinary evening, unaware of what you've planned. When the clock strikes midnight, you excitedly cover his eyes, wish him a heartfelt happy birthday, and guide him upstairs to the room you both share, where everything you've prepared is waiting.

The thought of his reaction and the little details of the moment make you giggle just thinking about it. And then, right on cue, you hear the main door open—and he walks in, just as you imagined. or maybe not....

next chapter ⇢

hope you enjoyed this chap, let me know how you feel about this chap in the comments! i have to give credits to @lovieku because you inspired me alot with my editing and i really love you so much, you're so so talented and good at what you do!!

#one night stand #bts #bts fanfic #btswritersclub #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #buryhny

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sofiatarot · 2 days ago

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Pick a card: How will you meet your future spouse?

In this reading, we’ll uncover how your fated meeting with your future spouse will unfold and gain insight into their thoughts following this significant moment.

Leave a tip🌙

1->2

3->4

In this reading, we’ll uncover how your fated meeting with your future spouse will unfold and gain insight into their thoughts following this significant moment.

Group 1:

The meeting:

Your meeting will happen when both of you are at a crossroads in life. You might meet in a space that promotes balance and harmony, such as a creative workshop, a community project, or even a social event centered around healing or growth. The energy of the encounter will be magnetic—your confidence and warmth will draw them in, even if they initially come across as reserved or caught up in their responsibilities.

Before this moment, you will have been stepping into your power, reclaiming your individuality after a challenging period. This meeting will feel like divine timing; you’ll notice how easily the conversation flows, as if you’ve known each other for ages. Their guarded nature will soften in your presence, and they will feel a sense of safety they haven’t experienced in a long time.

The environment will have a warm and inviting energy, allowing you both to let your guards down. The two of you might bond over shared interests or a similar perspective on life. There will be an immediate sense of mutual respect and understanding. Even though this meeting will feel serendipitous, it will also feel practical and grounded, as if the universe is setting the foundation for something enduring.

As you part ways, your future spouse will feel a deep sense of relief, as though a burden they’ve carried for years has lifted. They will reflect on how you made them feel understood and valued. They’ll likely begin re-evaluating aspects of their life, such as their priorities and emotional availability, realizing they are ready for something deeper.

Their initial thoughts will center on how you’ve brought clarity to their life. They’ll feel inspired to move forward, letting go of self-doubt and old wounds. This connection will feel like a new chapter—one where they can finally see the possibility of lasting love. Their curiosity about you will grow, and they’ll feel drawn to discover more about who you are.

Astrologically, this encounter may feel influenced by venus in libra or taurus, emphasizing themes of balance and partnership. Saturn could be prominent, showing how this meeting comes after a period of personal growth and maturity. The 7th house (partnerships) or the 5th house (romance and creativity) might play a role in your connection, with jupiter blessing the meeting with luck and expansion.

Group 2:

The meeting:

This encounter will feel like a chaotic collision of energies, happening when both of you are going through periods of change or emotional transition. You might meet in a busy environment, such as an event, a competitive space, or even while traveling. At first, the energy between you may feel conflicted or overwhelming, as though neither of you is entirely ready to open up.

Leading up to this meeting, both of you will have experienced a sense of disconnection—feeling out of alignment with your dreams and unsure of where you’re headed. Yet, this very state of confusion will create the perfect conditions for your paths to cross. When you meet, their energy will feel both intriguing and frustrating. You’ll sense their potential but also notice the walls they’ve built around themselves.

Despite the initial tension, there will be a spark that neither of you can deny. This meeting will challenge you both to confront your fears and rethink your ideas about love and connection. You may feel as though the universe is testing your patience, but the seeds of something significant will be planted.

After the meeting, your future spouse will feel a mix of curiosity and hesitation. They’ll replay the encounter in their mind, trying to make sense of the impact you’ve had on them. Their emotions will be conflicted—they’ll want to pursue the connection but might feel unprepared to handle the depth it requires.

Ultimately, they’ll begin to see the encounter as a wake-up call, pushing them to heal and grow. Your presence will inspire them to break free from self-imposed limitations and step into their power. They’ll come to realize that meeting you was no accident—it was a nudge from the universe toward a path of emotional fulfillment.

Astrologically, this meeting may carry the influence of mars in aries, emphasizing tension and passion, or neptune in pisces, highlighting confusion and spiritual growth. The 12th house (karma and hidden feelings) and the 8th house (transformation) may play significant roles. The energy of uranus could bring sudden changes and unexpected encounters.

Group 3:

The meeting:

Your first meeting will feel quiet and intimate, almost unassuming at first glance. It might take place during an ordinary day, such as at work, in a café, or while running errands. The energy will be grounding yet mysterious, with a subtle magnetism that neither of you can ignore.

Before this moment, both of you will have been working on letting go of past wounds and rediscovering what truly matters. They will be at a stage in their life where they’re reevaluating their priorities and seeking stability. The interaction will feel natural, as though the universe is gently nudging you toward one another.

The conversation will flow effortlessly, with shared values and mutual understanding becoming evident early on. There will be a feeling of familiarity, like two souls who have known each other in a different time or space. Even though the meeting itself might seem mundane, the emotional depth will be undeniable.

After the encounter, your future spouse will feel a mix of hope and vulnerability. They’ll sense that this connection has the potential to transform their life, but they might also wrestle with insecurities about whether they’re ready for such a deep bond. They’ll find themselves thinking about you more than they expected, drawn to the sense of calm and clarity you bring.

This meeting will mark the beginning of a slow, steady connection built on trust and shared growth. Your presence will inspire them to confront their fears and open up to the possibility of love. Over time, they’ll come to see you as a source of light in their life, someone who pushes them to be their best self.

Astrologically, this encounter may be influenced by the sun in virgo or capricorn, emphasizing practicality and stability. The 6th house (daily routines) and the 4th house (home and emotional foundations) might be significant. The influence of pluto could highlight transformation, while jupiter may bless the connection with expansion and abundance.

Group 4:

The meeting:

Your first encounter will feel like a twist of fate, happening during a time when neither of you is actively seeking a connection. You may meet in a setting tied to learning, travel, or personal growth—possibly during a class, workshop, or unexpected detour. The moment will feel like the universe orchestrating a perfect, albeit unconventional, alignment.

Both of you will bring guarded energy to this meeting, but the interaction will challenge your walls. They’ll be drawn to your intellect and the quiet confidence you exude, even if they don’t fully understand the impact you’ve had on them. The encounter might feel fleeting or incomplete, yet it will leave a lasting impression.

This meeting will act as a catalyst for both of you, pushing you to reevaluate what you want from life and love. It will feel like the universe is asking you both to take a leap of faith. Even though the connection might not fully take root right away, the seed of something profound will have been planted.

Afterward, your future spouse will feel introspective and curious. They’ll sense that this meeting was no coincidence and feel drawn to explore the potential of what you’ve sparked together. While their logical mind may try to dismiss it, their heart will whisper that this connection is worth pursuing.

Your presence will inspire them to embrace vulnerability and let go of past fears. Over time, they’ll recognize you as someone who challenges them to grow while offering a sense of stability they’ve never known. The connection will feel like a journey of discovery, both individually and together.

Astrologically, this meeting may be influenced by mercury in gemini, emphasizing curiosity and communication, or jupiter in sagittarius, highlighting serendipity and growth. The 9th house (higher learning) and the 11th house (friendships and unexpected connections) might play key roles. The influence of the moon could highlight intuition, while venus adds an undercurrent of attraction and harmony.

xoxo💗

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fictionalsweethearts · 2 days ago

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THE COMMISSION - EPILOGUE | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

'The Commission' series: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, epilogue.

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn BURNING

If you're underage, be responsible and don't consume smut content. GO AWAY AND BUILD A MOTHERFUCKING SAND CASTLE, THANK YOU.

Word count: 5,217 (yeah, things ALSO happen in this chapter)

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

Sevika has always been a woman who foresees situations, analyzes people, studies patterns, assumes decisions, all as a mechanism of defense to the unpredictable of her childhood and the constant reproaches of her father for not having "been ahead of the facts." However, and as much as she thought she knew everything about you, Sevika never thought she would end the year with her lying in her bed, watching you fix her mechanical arm in with only your panties on after an entire afternoon of naps and cuddles.

The room smelled of tobacco and candle oil, which formed warm shadows on the wall while Zaun's nocturnal murmur sneaked through the window, giving a cozy and certainly sensual touch to the room. Sevika found a shelter between the sheets of her bed and between your legs, on your vast chest and your fingers interlaced on her hair. As soon as she set foot at home, she allowed herself to detach herself from the impenetrable facade and stop pretending that the whole world depended on her, because soon enough she would look for you in the living room and strip off of her cape and surround you with her arms and nuzzle in your neck.

"Bad day?"

"Shitty." She would mumble. "Silco's testing my patience again."

"What do you need?"

"Silence..." she said. "And a hot bad."

"I'll get it ready." you whispered, knowing Sevika would pull you back if you dared to leave her arms right now.

She tightened her grip around you, letting out a grunt. "Not yet." She whispered.

"You always keep up with too much, Sev." You said, pulling back just enough to catch a glimpse of her gloomy expression.

"Someone has to," she muttered, her voice muffled. "The idiots down in the fissures would be lost without me."

"You have to stop taking responsibility for everybody's mistakes." You insisted. "It's burning you out."

"It's my position."

"Then your position is unfair." You insisted, letting out a sigh. "Alright, enough. You're at home now."

No business talk at home. It was a rule you'd set up early on, an agreement that when she was with you, she needed to let go of the stress and responsibilities of her role in order to not disturb the only place she felt safe in.

"...fine."

"Good." You said, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Long day, you need to unwind a bit." You added, before Sevika pulled you for a well deserved kiss.

You closed your eyes, tasting the kiss as your hands ran over her vast back, the leather of her vest and the metal of her left arm, daring to disable Shimmer's passage with a small button you placed at shoulder height.

"What are you…?

"You don't need to use it at home." you whispered.

She wanted to protest, but soon her expression softened, the tension in her muscles lessening. "No business at home," she repeated your earlier words. "And no Shimmer."

"You remembered." you smiled, leaning to kiss her again as Sevika trapped your waist with her flesh arm. Slowly her kiss intensified, shedding the stress of the day and focusing on what you had to offer her. Then, you began to push her towards the desk until the back of her thighs met the edge and you settled between her legs.

"I've never seen you like this..." she whispered, her voice filled with a note of awe. "What's gotten into you, pretty girl?"

Her grip on the desk tightened as your hands caressed her thighs, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her trousers. You leaned down to pepper kisses along her neck and jaw, your hand moving down her chest and squeezing one of her breasts between your fingers. "I'm doing my job."

It didn't take you more than ten seconds to make it clear to her that you weren't playing around. You had already unbuttoned her vest, one hand firmly on her tit as you kissed her mouth and pushed yourself between her legs. Only then, and with some impatience, you stepped back to begin unbuckling her belt.

"Baby-"

"Shh... It'll feel good, I promise." you whispered against her lips, which Sevika grunted.

Sevika frowned, studying this unexpectedly direct and assertive side of you. The first few times you slept together, you allowed Sevika to take control, knowing she was far more experienced in bed than you, allowing yourself to be explored and tasted as much as she wanted. But tonight Sevika deserved to be the one explored and you were willing to use as many tricks as she had been able to teach you in those endless nights on bed and quickies in the kitchen.

Sevika caressed the back of your neck, lifting her hips as you slid her pants and underwear off, letting you take over. Her heart was pounding in her throat, watching you kneel before her and place kisses on the inside of her thighs.

"Uh, fuck." she breathed out when you dive into her pussy with a long and gentle lap. Her head fell back, her flesh hand burying on your hair as she couldn't control such natural reaction.

Sevika liked giving better, rather than receiving. She loved the idea of giving someone else those thrills of pleasure, of hearing them moan and sigh, their legs closing around her head in search of more contact. But being the one on the receiving end felt a world of difference.

Her legs on your shoulders, you were dipping into the wetness of her pussy as you kissed and licked her folds, sucking her clit softly, just to glance at her briefly from time to time. You could see her abdomen tightening, her chest rising with each breath, and the chiseled line of her neck and jaw. You moaned, not just from feeling in control, but from finally allowing yourself to explore her. She tasted so good. Her wetness smearing your chin, the curls of her pubic hair against your nose, her musky smell filling your nostrils and making you hiss.

She was the whole damn meal.

Sevika growled, gripping the edge of the desk with her flesh hand, her fingers clenching and loosening in time with each lap and kiss. You were shamelessly slurping, sucking and kissing, and if you had just bit more of boldness, you would've spit on it just to piss her off.

"Yeah, good..." she growled, looking down at you. "Feast on it, pretty girl."

Her legs trembled, you caught a hint of a whimper coming out her mouth as you dug just a bit more into her pussy, gripping her thights apart. You didn't realize she came, an orgasm almost imperceptible until a guttural moan escaped her throat and she suddenly pulled your hair and brought you for a kiss.

"You're getting too bold." she said in a ragged whisper.

Your breath trembled, your act of daring ended as soon as Sevika claimed her position back with that phrase. Then she sighed, cupping your cheek.

"You..." she whispered, her voice hoarse. "You never cease to surprise me." She leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "You did good, pretty girl. Really good."

The taste of recognition filled your mouth and made your stomach flutter. Nothing tasted as good as Sevika's praises. Absolutely nothing. "You said something about a bath...?" she asked then, as you stepped back.

"Yeah, yeah." You nodded. "I'll get it ready right away."

Sevika leaned back against the desk, her breath still coming in soft pants as she watched you move away. Her body was boneless, relaxed from the release you had given her, and there was a hint of a smile on her lips. Just when you left the room, she admitted how damn weak she ended up. Her legs were fucking limp.

"This goddamn girl." She muttered.

"How did this happen?" you asked, focused on the mechanical arm's malfunctions. "The joints are broken, the shimmer compartment burnt. Did you get into a fight with a damn lion or what?"

Sevika sighed, tucking an arm under her head as she watched you fix the piece from the bed. For the past ten minutes she was unable to think of anything other than your slim back and the softness of your ass. Repairing her arm half naked was quite the way to end the day.

"A fight with a lion would have been less troublesome," she finally replied, her voice a bit strained.

"So...?"

Sevika shifted, propping herself up on her elbow to watch you work. "So," she began, a bit reluctantly. "There was a bit of a disagreement with Jinx."

She grimaced, remembering the encounter. "She rigged one of her bombs to explode when I wasn't looking. Caught me by surprise, blew up my goddamn arm."

You suddenly threw down your tools, turning around with anger showing on your face. "She what?" you spat.

"Easy, easy." she said, her voice gentle yet firm. She held up her flesh arm, as if trying to placate you. "It's not as bad as it sounds. I've had my arm blown off before, remember?"

"She could've killed you!" you barked.

"I'm tougher than I look," she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. "And I doubt Jinx was actively trying to kill me. She just enjoys causing chaos."

"I don't give a damn if she's into causing chaos and shit, she'll end up killing someone." you stated, standing up. "What caused her a fit of madness this time? Silco didn't comply to one of her stupid whims?"

She groaned. "It's Jinx," she said, as if that explained everything. "The little gremlin's always been unpredictable. And Silco... Well, he's learned not to get in her way when she's in the middle of one of her episodes."

She leaned back. "I can handle her, baby, don't sweat it."

"She's a goddamn lose cannon." you hissed. "And you're fine with it? Don't be stupid."

Sevika's expression darkened at your harsh words. "I'm not stupid." she snapped, her own temper flaring momentarily. "And I have my reasons for tolerating Jinx's antics."

She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "The undercity is a chaotic place, and the people here aren't exactly peaceful. Jinx... She's one of our own. She's a loose cannon, yes, but she's also a weapon we can use."

"An unpredictable weapon, you could say." you crossed your arms. "It's your mechanic arm today, but tomorrow could be the flesh one. You've lost your arm for the cause, there's no need to lose another, Sevika."

"I don't need you hovering over me like a mother hen," she snapped. "I can handle myself. I've been doing this long before you came along, and I'll be doing it long after you're gone."

You flinched over her distant tone, but you stood your ground again. "That's where you're wrong." you stated. "Cause I won't be gone, ever."

Sevika tilted her head, the bedsprings creaking under her weight as she sat up. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said finally.

"And don't promise Jinx won't blow on your face if you can't keep it." you stated.

Sevika sighed, reaching out for the glass of liquor on her bedside table. "Always using my words against me."

"I'm being frank." you said, your eyes flickering to the arm on the desk. "Your arm is ruined, I need to take it to the workshop. So don't expect to have it back soon."

“You—.” she started to protest, her temper flaring once more. “You’re not taking my arm. I need it.”

"You want a piece of junk for arm, then?" You inquired.

God, she was nearly losing it tonight.

“Fine,” she grumbled, reluctantly admitting defeat. “Take it to the workshop, then. But I better get it back in perfect condition, you hear me?”

"So you're threatening me now?"

Sevika slammed the glass on the table.

"I’m not threatening you.” she grumbled. "I’m just making it clear that I expect my arm back in pristine condition. I don’t have time to deal with any subpar repairs."

"When have I ever done it wrong, Sevika?" you said, turning to look for your shirt somewhere in the room. Being naked in an argument was not pleasant and Sevika let out a huff after your breasts weren't on sight anymore.

"Never." She admitted gruffly. "Your work is impeccable."

"Then don't doubt me," you stated, pulling on your pants before borrowing one of Sevika's cigarettes. You searched for your jacket on the coat rack.

Sevika sighed, realizing you were getting ready to leave. She wasn't stopping you, though, you no longer needed vigilance since your recovery developed smoothly. "Where are you going?" She asked.

"I have work to do at the workshop." you mumbled, picking your toolbox and Sevika's prostetic arm. "Don't wait for me, you need to sleep."

She hummed. "Be back before sunrise, got it? I don't want you out and late at night."

"Sure, ma'am."

"Don't 'ma'am' me." She spat. "Just… be careful, alright? This city isn’t safe at night. Even the shadows have teeth."

"And you're the teeth." You smirked, before Sevika groaned and reached out to pull you by the arm.

"One more funny reply and you're not leaving the apartment." She snapped at you.

You raised an eyebrow, like an insolent teenager who was beginning to question the authority of her parents. Sevika didn't scare you, she stopped doing so a long time ago, and certainly after having her trembling with your head between her legs, she didn't manage to intimidate you. "I hear." you nodded.

Sevika watched you leave, her eyes trailing after you with a mixture of frustration and desire. She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to strangle you or kiss you. As the door shut behind you, she let out a low grumble and took a deep drag from her cigarette. "Stubborn little shit…" she muttered, a small smirk playing at her lips.

Rumors flew as fast through the streets of Zaun as the Shimmer. It took no more than four hours to hear that Silco's daughter had appeared in the Last Drop like a scolded puppy, strangely docile without knowing when or who caused it. But the truth is that Jinx showed up at Sevika's office and apologized to Sevika for the bomb accident, placing a new, optimized mechanical arm on the table, wrapped in a gift ribbon.

Sevika could only attribute it to you.

What the hell did you do?

Sevika walked through the dimly lit corridors of The Last Drop, her eyes watchful and searching. She was looking for only one person - you.

When she finally found you in the repair shop, her footsteps halted. “Have a moment?” she asked, her voice gruff.

You dragged on your cigarette, turning around as you removed your goggles from your eyes and raised an eyebrow. You didn’t even bother to get up from the stool, your expression impassive, almost disinterested. "I'm busy."

Sevika's jaw tightened at your dismissive tone. It was infuriating how you could look so utterly disinterested, when you had her wrapped around your little finger. She stalked closer, her muscles tensing in irritation. "I didn’t ask if you were busy. I said I need to speak with you."

You placed the cauterizer on the table and Sevika leaned against a nearby workbench, arms crossed underneath her poncho. "Care to tell me what you did to Jinx?" she asked.

"Uh... nothing?" you asked. "Why would I have anything to do with her?"

"Don't play coy with me." she growled. "The girl suddenly shows up, apologizing and dropping off a new arm? That’s not her style. You’ve been meddling again, haven’t you?"

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Did she apologize?" you inquired.

"Yes, she did apologize. She even wrapped the damn arm in a gift ribbon. It's the most polite I've ever seen her be."

You dragged out your cigarette, making the ash flutter into the ashtray, a cup. “Jinx is so much more than a crazy girl, she’s talented,” you said. “I thought she could make up for her damn mistake by making you a new arm.”

"And you thought that by... what? Whispering a few pretty words in her ear, you could get her to make me a new arm?" she questioned, disbelief coloring her tone.

"Nothing a couple of threats and some good rhetoric can't fix," you said smugly, before Sevika slammed her fist on the table.

"You threatened Jinx?" she demanded, her eyes burning with anger. "Are you out of your damn mind? She's unpredictable, dangerous and—"

"She messed with you," you interrupted her. "And since you're not going to fight back, do you think I'm going to sit back and watch that, Sevika?"

"It's not your place to handle Jinx, that's my business. Stay out of it."

You sighed, taking a look at this colorful and flashy new arm of Sevika Jinx knew how to add her touch to the piece, from the colors, the slot machine aesthetic, and the claw where the hand should be. "Did you like it?" you asked, more softly this time.

She reached out slowly, her fingers tracing over the metal and the claw. "It's… adequate." she grunted.

"Good." you smiled. "I'm glad I trusted her that."

As soon as the problem seemed to be fixed, you turned your attention to the piece you were currently working on. Sevika let out a groan, realizing you got away with it again.

Why on Earth I fell for this woman? I have enough trouble on my own.

Sevika leaned against the workbench, her eyes glued to you as you hummed a soft tune, completely absorbed in your work. It was infuriating. As soon as Sevika started looking around, her eyes fell on Shimmer's strap-on resting on the table. She had to look at it twice to realize it was the one she asked you to make four months ago. Sevika thought she had lost it; in the brothel, people tend to take things that aren't theirs.

"I thought I lost that thing," she grumbled, picking it up to examine it.

"That?" you asked, your eyes flickering to the strap. "Hell no, I spent fifty-six hours on that thing."

"What on earth took so damn long?"

"The Shimmer system; quite a challenge." you said.

At that moment, you couldn't help but look at her. A question had been floating around in your head ever since the day you handed Sevika her commission. "Did you like it?" you asked. "Did it feel good to wear?"

Sevika huffed, toying with the strap on her hand before she smirked. "Honestly, girl? It's been the best thing I've ever wore."

You smiled subtly, your attention shifting to your tools even though the tingle of satisfaction remained in your stomach. “How are the commissions going?” asked Sevika.

“Too many for so few hands and hours of sleep.” you pointed out, smiling as Sevika’s expression hardened. “I won’t use Shimmer, calm down.”

"Good," she said gruffly, leaning against the table closer to you. "You better not, or I'll kick your ass."

Despite having arrived angry, your proximity had weakened her temper. Your scent, the heat of your body, it was driving her mad. She had a strong desire to grab you, pull you close, and kiss you senselessly.

"So..." you said. "You came here to call me out for messing with Jinx or just to check how am I doing?"

"Both," she grumbled, her arms still crossed, her eyes flickering down to your lips. “You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn't belong... again.”

"Where should I stick it in, then?" you teased her.

"Not in my business, to start." she grumbled, uncrossing her arms as she stepped closer.

Before you could even respond, Sevika grabbed you by the waist and roughly pulled you into a searing kiss. Her pent-up frustration and need for you had finally boiled over, and she couldn't deny herself any longer. You whimpered, barely adjusting to the kiss before Sevika dragged whatever you had onto the workbench and pinned you against the surface. “Hey, watch my stuff!”

"Shut up," she growled against your mouth. "I’ll buy you more tools."

Shit, she's mad.

"Sev... the door..." you panted between kisses, already spreading your legs so she could settle between them. Her intensity did not give rise to protests.

"Anyone who dares to enter will lose their eyes," she grunted, bringing your leg around her waist.

Sevika didn't let you process every kiss and bite she placed on your skin, she was unleashed by frustration and desire. You cupped her neck and sighed, her lips on your neck, her right hand wandering over your breasts and abdomen. You reached for her vest, unbuttoning it as you kissed her vehemently. The sound of her vest hitting the floor echoed through the room, as did your gasps and sighs.

You just hoped that no one had to lose their eyes that night.

You sat up, catching one of her breasts between your lips as Sevika hissed, her hand playing with your bare thighs before she felt the urge to pull that denim skirt off you. Sevika was in no mood for foreplay, her patience already exhausted and she had no intention of saving any more for you after you had challenged her authority by messing with Jinx. She growled, undoing the clasp of your skirt and sliding it down your legs until it ended up on the workshop floor.

"One of these days, you won't get a kiss but your ass whipped instead." she grumbled.

And then, you moaned over her hand sneaking into your panties, rubbing your wet pussy with unexpectly gentle fingers. Her weight pressed against you, her mouth hovering over yours accompanied by soft pants.

"A kiss or two and you're all wet for me."

"I was jerking off before you came in." you lied with that insolent smile of yours.

"Thinking about me, I suppose."

Her fingers continued to rub you, her mouth stealing any protests you might have had. She loved how you came undone under her touch, how she could make you moan and gasp.

You couldn't help but chuckle, Sevika looked fed up with your crude humor, but she didn't complain either. You watched her spread kisses down your stomach, your hip, the inside of your thighs, like a lioness coming closer to its prey, before pulling aside the fabric of your panties and giving you a shameless lick.

"Mhm... shit..." you gasped.

You covered your mouth, your gasps coming out of your nose as you tried to silence Sevika’s slurping by turning on the milling machine, which was particularly loud when it first started. By then, Sevika was having a feast between your legs, her lips sucking and kissing, licking at the wetness that was pouring out of you like a waterfall.

“Fuck.” you hissed, your hand reaching for her hair.

You still hadn't gotten used to Sevika's rhythm, she ate you out like you were her last meal, not caring about getting your slick all over her nose and chin, or the way you rubbed against her mouth to get more contact. A good dish is best enjoyed with all the senses, regardless of getting dirty in the process.

She enjoyed knowing that you liked it, that she was able to draw whimpers from your throat and break your insolent demeanor. After a while, your legs seemed to tremble and Sevika pulled away with a loud inhale, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Why did you...?" you managed to gasp before noticing that Sevika was staring at the strap-on sitting on the next workbench.

Oh, shit.

"Turn around." she commanded, her voice low and husky with desire.

"Sev-"

"Baby, trust me." she whispered, her hand cupping your cheek. "I'll be gentle."

"If someone enters..." you panted.

"No one will enter. They're all too goddamn scared of me." she replied, her hand gently grabbing your hips and guiding you to face away from her.

You could barely handle the adrenaline, your whole body seemed to be electrified, your chest against the table as soon as you bent over, raising your hips. It was happening and you were absolutely thrilled. You felt a kiss on your shoulder, you trembled when you perceived Sevika's figure behind you before a wave of anxiety crossed your body.

You've made plenty of them, but you never had tried a strap-on.

Sevika gasped then, the Shimmer compartment connecting to the matrix in her arm and thus to her system. That current of Shimmer through her veins tickled her and tinted her eyes slightly purple. Sevika saw how tense you were, and it was making her heart ache. She wanted you to enjoy this, to experience the same pleasure she had felt when she used it on Robin. So, she let her lips wander over your shoulder, down your back, as she moved her body closer to yours. Her chest pressed against you, her fingers caressing your hips.

"Don't be nervous," she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. "I've got you."

You held on to the table, Sevika giving you kisses on the back of your neck while sliding the strap between your folds, back and forward, gently stimulating you. "You made it, remember? Don't you trust your work?"

You moaned softly. "I didn't think you were going to use it on me."

Sevika held your hip. "I trust your work. Trust me too."

Suddenly you felt her slide inside you, inch by inch your lips parted and you let out a muffled moan, silenced by Sevika's kisses on your neck. Your insides opened for her, contracting around the phallus with ease, ready to take her whole. "Breathe…" she whispered.

You gasped, holding onto the edge of the table as Sevika began to thrust gently, methodically and deeply, feeling her tits press against your back, your own against the surface of the workbench. The weight of both of you made the wood creak.

Frankly, if the table broke, Sevika wouldn't give a damn.

"You're doing so well…" she whispered. "I knew you would."

You straightened up, Sevika wrapping an arm around your chest as she increased the speed of her thrusts, allowing yourself to moan louder, showing her that deep inside your body was tickling with her presence, your core had a pulse of its own. "It feels... good..."

"It'll feel better, baby, keep up with me." she growled, wrapping her bicep around your throat as she dared to slam her hips harder this time. And you whimpered.

You created that strap, you spent hours sitting at that very same workbench, trial and error to achieve a unique piece capable of pleasing Sevika and her exquisite requirements. You designed it, you took the mold in her presence, you spent sleepless nights and woke up to continue working on it. And now Sevika was allowing you to try the fruit of your labor for yourself, and damn… it was wonderful.

Sevika fucked you without pause or hesitation, methodically as if it were a task that must be done conscientiously. She squeezed your breasts, licked your ear and rubbed your clitoris with her flesh hand, making you tremble and shudder. By then, you were dizzy and extremely sensitive, Sevika could not bear to fuck you without seeing your expression twist in pleasure.

So, she quickly pulled out and turned you over, her hands grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the table, sitting you down on the edge.

"Look at me." she gasped, kissing you at the same time she slide into you. You moaned into her mouth, an arm around her neck as you caught a glimpse of her purple eyes. "Fuck, you're so pretty."

"You're so high..." you panted.

"This is the closest you'll ever be to Shimmer again." she smiled, fucking you relentlessly.

Each thrust was a dose of Shimmer, each thrust shook her entire body and sent shivers down to her core. It was addictive and mesmerizing at the same time, she couldn't get enough of how good it felt. "Oh fuck… you feel so good." she whimpered.

"Mhm, Sev..." you moaned sweetly. "Harder."

The Shimmer didn't just heighten the sensations, it inhibited the shame and brought the emotions to the surface. That's why you weren't impressed when Sevika began to pour her heart out on the act.

"I don't deserve you..." she muttered, her tone weaker than she intended to. You cupped her cheek.

"Bullshit."

"If you dare to leave me, there will be nothing left of me," she confessed, a hand on your cheek and your foreheads met. Your breaths mingled together.

"I ain't leaving."

Sevika whimpered, the scars on her left cheek glistening, her eyes seeming to sparkle and then you realized the Shimmer was taking its toll on her. "Sev, take it off." you begged, but she lunged at you, her hips never stopping. "Sev!" you insisted, even though you were reaching your peak yourself.

"I can't..." she gasped, before she placed a weak kiss on your lips. "I love you."

"You lo- Ah, ah fuck...!" you couldn't contain yourself, the sudden orgasm knocking you down like a wave before you fell back on the workbench.

And your body went numb, the sound of the machine accompanying your and Sevika's gasps, until you heard her curse and throw the strap on the table. Sevika's voice was hoarse, almost like she was choking back tears, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The adrenaline, the Shimmer, the revelation of her feelings - it was all coursing through her, leaving her vulnerable and unsure of how to react.

You took a deep breath, rolling over to look at Sevika and notice the way she was shaking. You propped yourself on your elbow, reaching out to her. "I told you not to overuse it."

"I know..." she sighed, sitting on the edge of the table as you wrapped your arms around her. Your stomach fluttered, you inhaled her scent as if it were a fragrance you were trying to decipher, when in reality what you wanted to decipher were the words she said earlier.

All these years, this insolence and boldness just to get here. You had no regets.

"I love you too, Sev." you said softly then, every word rolling on your tongue.

She was quiet, her eyes fixed on yours as she took in what you had just said. "I know," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "And that terrifies me."

"I should be terrified of you." you smiled, noticing the way Sevika's eyes softened. You've never seen her like that. "But ever since I met you, I knew fear won't lead me nowhere."

"Most people are smart enough to stay away from me," she pointed out, her gaze dropping to the floor, before she grabbed your hand with her flesh one. "You're not smart."

You chuckled. "No, I'm not."

But Sevika knew well that no fool could get under her skin like you did; even if you had been a street rat, a Shimmer junkie and her personal mechanic.

She just hoped to call you wife one day.

The end.

taglist: @lez-zuha @amoraeu @nikaachuuuu @furrytaesss @elliecoochieeater @n-noctiss @emmanetalias @sevikashairbrush @lipglosskxsses @chaosfieldflower @kairuvhen @moodient @izzy120 @bonemarrowstew @abbysunderwear @batman-2 @karmalovessimonriley @fandomsinthegalaxies @fudosl @femme-historian @poprostuhybryda-blog @kifuqe @xblinkx2 @tamikahoshiko @lia-winther @https-mika @armeenix @bambishaven @xblinkx2 @luvg1s3l1e @dopemusiccowboy @imheadintothemountains @lilithyys @soullessbody @lavendersgirl @lovesickdreamer @makaylaislovely @demonofpuns @celestialst4r @ilovehotd @emmanetalias @bethany-l87 @marah280 @srtuna @jannesyjane @victoriaanne9 @rottngrl3 @depressedqueersocialists @slut4sevika @fragilsnoopy @stmvivs @sillystarv @vyvvycg @sapphicsontop @mixtape003 @blackqueengold @thesameoldboo

So, yeah, this fic is done. Do you know how much I enjoyed writing it? I really had a great time, even more so seeing your comments.

Girls, it's been an honor to have entertained you, I'll keep cooking up as many more as my delusional brain can come up with. THANK YOU ALL <3

#arcane #arcane fanfic #league of legends #arcane s2 #arcane sevika #arcane smut #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #slow burn BURNING #love cofessions yass baby #some delusional shit #sapphic #wlw #sevika my woman #sevika the butch you are #some shit

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silent-hill-2-official · 17 hours ago

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Hi, you summoned me, the big gorgeous linux fairy, and this is the Jack Joy's Guide to Linux. This is going to be a long read, so be prepared.

Chapter 0: What do we want? The first thing I would recommend is asking what you want from linux. Linux is open source, has 30 years of dedicated nerds working on it, and is driven by giving people choice and control over their computer. You got options, but with that decisions to make. Is it simplicity? Is it Stability? Do we wanna game, or is this basically just a fancy browser machine with some word processors attached? It all depends on knowin what you want, because there is going to be something that will cater to your needs. Chapter 0.5: Making the tough call The second thing to know about linux is that you are going to be giving up some stuff to gain a LOT of control over your computer. Linux has done a wonderful job getting easier about what it offers, but ultimately you are going to run into some jank. You are going to have to be prepared to touch the scary obelisk that is the terminal. And you are going to have to say goodbye to some programs that just don't work on linux. If you use Adobe Products you are SOOL for example. There are replacements, but you will inevitably end up having to learn something new. Personally, I found the task to be refreshing to get myself acquainted with stuff, but that isn't what everyone wants. Hopefully this is not a dealbreaker.

Chapter 1: Go Oynon, I need to collect my tools.

To Install Linux, you are going to need a few things, and before you begin to just follow this guide as you are doing it, read this entire chapter as there are going to be some things that are gonna be important to know before you get into things.

A flash drive (preferably just a big USB stick, messing around with USB to SD card readers got me a fucked install of mint once)

Balena Etcher

Your preferred Flavor of linux

Some knowledge on the bios of your machine

And preferably a secondary boot device in your machine (IE a second SSD)

First grab the ISO file of the OS you want to install on your PC, which maybe you have already had a potential distro of linux in mind. If not, let me recommend some potential good candidates for someone first messing around with linux.

Side Tangent 1.1: Jack Joy's Pixie Picks for easy Linux Distros

Linux Mint is the gold standard for stupid simple linux distro. It just works*, it comes with a DE(desktop Enviroment) that is reminiscent of windows 7 so adjustment should be minimal and overall, is very uncomplicated. Is a bit bland tho. *(things still break sometimes)

Ubuntu meanwhile you probably already heard of. Think of it as the MacOS of Linux. It has the most company support, it's DE called GNOME is very MacOS like in it's design language, incredibly stable, but also very poor in customization. If something says tested on linux, a lot of the time, it means tested on Ubuntu.

EndeavourOS is my linux distribution of choice. It's based off of Arch Linux, which is what powers the Steamdeck with SteamOS, and as such has a lot of nifty Arch linux niceties, like the Arch User Repository, and KDE Plasma as it's DE. It tries to combine being user friendly while letting you tinker with everything, it is on the cutting edge of linux, but that also means that stuff CAN break more often.

With this side tangent over, install balena etcher and flash your ISO on your USB stick.

Reboot your PC, and as it boots enter into your BIOS. Most systems use the F12 function key, but it might also be any of the other F keys because no one can agree on anything in the fucking tech space. From the BIOS your going to want to look into your boot order and if your USB stick is available, pull it up in the order. If it isn't there, your gonna have to wrestle with your BIOS as there might be some secure boot shenanigans going on. BIOS' vary so much that you'll have to look into your system in particular (which could be a good time to learn more about your PC in general).

Once done, exit out of the BIOS and things should hopefully be happening. Depending on the Linux Distro you used this might look more or less scary, but if it looks like it is doing some WEIRD SHIT instead of booting windows, it's going good. At some point you'll enter a "live enviroment" of your OS (a version of the OS that exists entirely from the USB that will be gone once you reboot) and an installer will be on the desktop or have popped up automatically (at least, for all three of the beginner friendly Distro's I recommended. Please don't try to install raw Arch Linux on your first Linux Install.)

Once the installer gets to formatting drives is where we have to do a hard pause, because formatting drives is SCARY and DANGEROUS if you aren't doing it to an extra drive that has nothing in it. In general it is always scary and dangerous. The installer is going to give you a bunch of options on where it wants to be put, and what it is going to do to the drive where it makes itself at home. If you are putting this on an extra SSD, tell it to do what it wants with that extra SSD and bob is your uncle. If you are putting this on the same drive as your windows install, you are going to have to be real careful and tell it to make a partition, give it however much space you can give it, and voila. Or, if you just want to ensure you never go to windows ever again, nuke the entire drive, in which case you might want to invest in another USB drive to keep a clean copy of a non shit windows OS. Think of that USB drive as an "In case of emergency, Break glass" type safety precaution.

The Installer will finish, either asking you to reboot the PC or doing so by itself, and once it is done it will now do the standard linux boot sequence. Congratulations. You have transitioned your PC from widows to whatever flavor of Linux picked your fancy. From here on out, what you do with your PC is up to you and you alone. Fuck around. Look at all the software that came with your linux install, especially the actual software store where you can get even more stuff.

Hope this guide helped.

im sure someone already made a post about it but i came across a ublock origin add-on that blacklists around 950 AI websites and disables AI overview ☝️ so u can be free from seeing AI in your search

#linux #linuxposting #I am sorry this is such a long guide #i wanted to make it shorter but it always felt like i forgot something that might be messed up by someone #i wanted to be as thourough as possible

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retiredteabag · 2 days ago

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Dog-sitter!Toji - chapter 9

last chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

Synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.

read along as Toji learns that you don't need to lose yourself in order to love and be loved.

Toji has never been the type to hold back.

He's honest and dislikes waiting to express his thoughts, even so, he had been holding in these feelings for a long time now.

How could it be that it took working together with you under extreme stress for him to realize that no one had seen him as a human quite like you had.

And for you, in the midst of your anxiety and strain, you consider him, in the small things he does such as ordering food, and in the large, working by your side to fight this battle day and night.

Dark evening nights bled into fresh mornings, unearthing the man who had threatened you had been the both of your main goals but along the way Toji grew more and more comfortable thinking of you as a friend.

In the past, when you had asked him to consider you as a friend, he would mentally roll his eyes. You were his employer, it was out of the question. But now? He found himself wondering why "friendship" seemed too gentle a term. Why is it he was wanting more?

You on the other hand, you had learned long ago to be honest with yourself. Even before, when you felt giddiness at his appearance or when you noticed yourself fixing your hair in the car, you were able to recognize your attraction to the man.

This attraction was not just physical though, he was dedicated and kind, humble and brave. You wouldn't say it, no matter how much your heart melted when you saw his nature.

Especially not now, when you needed to prioritize your dog.

Your hands shook as the attorney described the process of what defending you in court would look like. As it had turned out, despite there being a real case against your dog, there was still but a little evidence to suggest that your dog had initiated anything.

You also learned that the plaintiff not coming to you for months after the event was not a good look for them. Each passing hour, the ache in your heart would lessen. The beginnings of your chest easing helped you prepare yourself for the proceedings.

What you had not expected was how the dog that had attacked Toji was an unregistered working animal.

This would suggest that the work the dog was trained for was illegal or nefarious in some other nature.

In all honesty, you had expected the man who had shown up at your door to have been running a puppy mill of some sort.

Far from your realm of possibility was how dark the world could truly be. Toji had taken it upon himself to "do some digging", only to find that the Tosa Inu that had put your dog in the animal hospital over night had been an underground fighting dog.

The more you listened to what that could possibly mean, the sicker you felt. You were even more grateful to Toji though. He insisted that he hadn't hired a PI or anything, simply stating that he "knew a guy" who could uncover whatever had been happening behind the scenes.

Gambling was illegal in all areas of Japan but even worse was dog fighting. Several prefectures, including Tokyo had the act banned and on the level that this ring was operating, it was fair to assume other crimes were occurring behind the scenes. Betting on dog fights merely scratched the surface it seemed.

Even knowing all this, it wasn't until animal welfare organizations got involved, promising to back you in any way, that you began to rest easier at night.

You had spent what felt like an eternity yet somehow a blink of time making legal arguments in your office. You worked until your brain hurt and your eyes strained from the light of the computer screen.

During working hours, your attorney would occasionally be at your residence, working with yourself and Toji. Witnesses to Toji's injury, and your dog's behavior needed to be called forth, receipts and bills from the veterinary hospital needed to be located and confirmed for court proceedings, photographs of the scene in which the dog fighting ring was located needed to be confirmed. It all took far longer than you were expecting.

After working hours you would find yourself writing down your thoughts, hoping your lawyer was right to presume a positive fate. With the only companion you had known for years on the line however, it was a challenge to remain calm.

With his constant and unwarranted vigilance, you insisted Toji stay with you at the house. He had stayed in the guest room before and if he was so determined to help, the least you could do is offer him a place to stay.

It didn't take much convincing on your part, he stood by you through the whole ordeal.

One night, after a particularly grueling day of unburying evidence of animal abuse, you sat on your couch, tenderly stroking your dogs neck as tension built within your own.

It was funny to think that not even a month ago taking off this much work would be unthinkable to you. For the first time in your life, you had burned through all of your PTO, vacation, and sick leave. You were lucky enough to have an employer, though unperturbed by your usual overworking nature, was willing to be lenient with your schedule due to the nature of the issue at hand.

You had been mindlessly playing with the dogs ears, staring at the noiseless television before you when the gentle steps of the man you had come to appreciate so much found their way into the living room.

"Care if I join you?" He spoke softly, perhaps worried to startle you.

Attempting a carefree manner, you tried for a grin, "Of course, come, sit down."

He shuffled closer and sat to the other end of the dog, the beast, who had all his life (to your knowledge) been inconsolably frightened by men, did not hesitate to lay his head atop Toji's thigh.

The man laced his fingers through the dogs fur, smiling softly. "How are you feeling?"

Your shoulders jitter slightly as his hand brushes your own. Your dog lifts his head a moment to look at you. Huffing he plops his head back, returning to rest on the man's leg. Your heart races like a silly schoolgirl. "Good, good, everything is really looking up, you know?" You swallow a bit, "Toji, really, I know I said it before but I just wanted to make it clear how grateful I am to you. You really don't have any obligation to be here, helping me-"

The man by your side seems to straighten a bit where he sat. His hand as stopped moving and he just looks at you.

"-ever since that day at the animal hospital, when you put the needs of my boy here over your own, before that really, I have been in your debt. I hope it was never a burden... I hope you know what a comfort your presence has been."

"No." Toji's spine is taught and he takes a gulp of air before continuing on quickly, "no- no its not a burden at all. And...owe me? How could you owe me?" He laughs a bit at the notion.

Before you interject to make some painfully sweet comment, he pushes on, "You must not know-" he stares at you now, only a few breaths away, "how...lucky I am to be able to do this job, to be of some help...to...have even met you."

He's stumbling over his words, he never does that, but you make him weak somehow. You make him want to take care with his words. You make him feel so very human, so very alive.

"Well..." You fiddle with your hands, having long since moved them to your lap to avoid the strange thumping that occurs when your fingers cross. "I feel like the lucky one."

After weeks of scouring information, preparing documents, and developing exposé's, the result you could have only prayed for arrived.

The very next morning your attorney practically bounded in through the front door. She was laughing and flinging around a written notice as if it was a ticket straight to the pearly gates of heaven. Upon the address line, in bold letters, was a miracale in ink.

"COURT FILING: DISSMISSAL "

"W-what does this mean?" You smile up at your lawyer, her hoots and hollers were contagious.

"What does it mean? It means that coward of a litigant has withdrawn the charges!"

It took a moment for the elation to fill you, you repeated her words over and over, you gave her one clear look as if to ask, 'does that mean what I think it means?"

She just nodded.

You broke down in laughs. The dog wove in between your legs sensing your joy, Toji came rushing into the foyer, words of 'what's going on?' left him before he saw you grinning on the floor, scratching the dog's neck.

He smirks as if he had been counting on this the whole time, steadily walking your way until he is within arms reach. He displays one arm stretched out to you.

Under the assumption he was going to pull you up from your spot on the ground, you reach a hand to take his own and gasp when he dips to pull you into his arms. Lifting you with a steady grip.

"Toji!" You laugh, oh how it felt good to laugh once more.

The dog circled you, panting and wiggling his butt. The other person present was talking about how you had every means to come after the man with your own counterclaim, having found so much on his name. But it was all background noise. You were too caught up in the grasp Toji had on your waist. His smile. His laugh. All of it.

It wasn't until you were placed carefully back on your own two feet that you noticed the woman awkwardly grinning at the two of you.

You knew that you might still have a fight ahead of you, and it was one you would willingly take. But at this very moment, you felt incandescently happy. Nobody was taking your baby from you, and in all these efforts, it seemed you had made a close friend.

And perhaps even a connection verging dangerously close to something more.

Some cheap barbecue spot was not what you had expected when you told Toji you would get him whatever he liked in celebration.

"Honestly, I only started eating well when I began looking after your place." Toji takes a piece of beef that he grilled and placed it onto your plate, taking a spoonful of broth for himself.

"That's funny, I kind feel the same, I got so nervous that you wouldn't have anything to eat that I started planning for my groceries." You look down at the bite he prepared for you and smile.

The man before you narrows his eyes, "Well... I'm glad you started eating better." He spins his chopsticks around and flips some meat over on the grill.

"You know...you never asked for anything-" You start, recalling how you had left a note in the early days asking if there was something he wanted from the store.

"You never had to get me anything." Toji grins, "You've been more than generous."

There's a long pause occupied by the both of you taking bites of your dinner and smiling. You'd been doing that an awful, you realize and compose yourself, slightly embarrassed, "I don't think you know how much I appreciate you, Toji." You point an accusing finger at him.

And you don't know how much I love hearing you say my name he thought but kept it to himself.

"Nahhhh, I think I do. You kinda wear your heart on your sleeve."

You roll your eyes, recalling how he had seen you in so many positions, the awkward early phase, angry, teary, even sick, he had seen it all. Once again, you cringe at how much of you he knows.

"If you knew you wouldn't be calling me generous. Before I had someone I could trust with the house and dog, I was so stressed all the time. Work was piling up and I hated leaving home, knowing he would be anxious."

You recall all the nights before Toji when you tearfully considered rehoming your most loyal partner.

"Well now you're free to overwork yourself from the comfort of your office." He teases.

The two of you went on eating and poking fun at each other. Every little instance of connection between you two drew you both closer. Dark times bring out the true nature of individuals and identify exactly who someone is.

And who you were was everything he desired.

Dedicated, hardworking, kind.

Even Toji was surprised by his own unquestioning nature when it came to helping you. He would do whatever it took to see you happy.

Toji had insisted on driving you to dinner. He told you he was taking you to his favorite spot. For a time, he was embarrassed by his car, seeing you sitting in the passenger seat almost felt like a sin but you just grinned at him, and conversed easily.

He felt like a student again, driving as carefully as ever to ensure the safety of such precious cargo.

At the end of the night, when he pulled up your drive way, he told you to stay seated.

Confused, you couldn't help laughing when he came around to get the door for you.

A part of you, however small, hoped he wasn't just teasing. Hoped he might see you as more than his employer. Hoped this connection between you two would not end with the resurgence of the sun.

You tell him he didn't have to walk you to the door but he just scoffs and bares the cold by your side. The celebration was still fresh between you.

You didn't even have your hand on the door yet, everything of the day was weighing on you, the way he had lifted you up and held you, all the smiles you shared, all the easy conversation. You knew it had to stop, or you might end up deluding yourself further than you already had.

"I think it's fair to say you've gone above and beyond dog sitter status, Toji. I'm sure you'll enjoy staying at your place for once."

You had meant it lightheartedly. You really had felt bad these nights when he worked into the evening, staying in your guest room to support you. Pulling out his reading glasses for the first time in years. Despite your blithe attitude, he seemed to get all serious.

He looks at his shoes for a moment, the wind chilled you to the bone but Toji doesn't flinch.

Everything in Toji's mind was telling him to keep his mouth shut.

He was nothing special to you, no matter how kindly you told him otherwise. He had nothing to offer you. He was an ally cat of a man to your show cat of a women. He was never going to be any more than the dog sitter. Why risk the best position he had ever been granted? Why put an end to this dream he had been living?

But Toji has never been the type to hold back.

"I don't think I can keep on like this."

He doesn't look at you, still too occupied by the pavement.

"What?" Barely a beat had passed before you try to bend and catch his eye but he lifts his face to the heavens.

At one point, money was all Toji cared for, he was willing to do anything for it, but now, he was feeling things he hadn't felt since he was a boy, maybe things he never had before.

"This..." He sighs and finally gives you a resolute look, "this is my job."

You're taken aback. Replaying the words a hundred times within a millisecond. Trying to see his meaning. The words hurt, yes, you knew you paid him. Of course none of his actions meant anything more than job security. But as much as you had told yourself to be realistic, his kind and selfless attitude had started to leak into your brain, making you feel special.

You step back, still not opening the door. Wanting now to see him leave. To solidify this moment. "Right. Yes, Toji, of course."

He's still looking at you, pupils blown wide but he doesn't hesitate. "I'm afraid you’re gonna have to find someone else." in stark contrast to before, he never strays from your vision. He shakes his head as if to say, 'no'.

"What?" You repeat. Suddenly afraid of his meaning you try to take a step down to meet him at the landing but he holds up a hand. "What do you mean?"

Had it been too much? The court case? The working together? Had it only been pleasant for you? All those nights chatting on the couch, all those sweet "goodnight's"?

He pulls back his hand, one quick inhalation of the night's air was all the courage he could summon and coincidentally, all he required, "I've got these feelings that aren't exactly appropriate for the workplace."

All to be heard are the whistles of wind on the trees.

"So I think it might be best-" He's shaking his head again, not believing a word, "for you to find someone...less...attached."

It makes him chuckle, as broken as this moment makes him feel. How long has it been since he has been attached, since he has felt like this at all. How silly.

"Toji...Toji what are you saying?"

"All of this" his makes a show of his hands, "all of you, who you are, how you behave, what you do for others. I never want to lose it. It's my job, but deep down...I know it's more than that." He keeps heaving in breath, making wild motions with his hand, begging you to understand, "I want to be there to take care of the dog, I want to stay and take care of you when work is too much, I want to go for walks and eat dinner together, I don't even want to be paid anymore-GOD I cannot believe I just said that-"

He's laughing but your mind is morphing back into the dreamlike notion you had been shoving away. No words escape your lips as you grab hold of his hand, "I thought...I thought you wouldn't think of me like that..."

Now he's looking at you like you've made some ridiculous joke.

"I thought you just... liked taking care of the dog..."

He guffaws. "I do..." he inhales shakily, "believe me. I do. But... I definitely like you more."

You don't even know when his hand went to graze over your cheek but suddenly, your face is feeling warm in spite of the chill.

"I-I just can't believe- I feel...Toji I was talking myself out of this just a moment ago."

His eyes go all soft, you wonder if you had ever missed this look of his, "Is it too good to be true if I guess you feel the same?" "Gosh, Toji, No! I-" You pull his hand from your cheek and use it to cover your eyes.

Not too long ago, you felt like floating, thinking the day could not possibly become greater in importance, but life has a funny way of proving us wrong.

For a moment there on the porch, you had thought that he might kiss you. Right there on your doorstep in the cold, with your dog rolling his eyes inside. But Toji didn't, in fact, he pulled himself back. Holding your hand, murmuring that he wanted to "do this right" as he played with your fingers.

And for the second time that day, you have the overwhelming desire to dance around your house. To spin and clutch your heart as impossible hope filled your senses. Only this time, as the door closes and you watch out the window, a hand clutched to your chest. You grant yourself the privilege.

A moment to yourself of pure delight.

Hidden from your view, Toji was experiencing a very similar sensation, palm displayed across his pounding heart, he settles his head against the steering wheel and wonders if this all is a dream.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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tabiito · 3 days ago

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DEBÍ TIRAR MÁS FOTOS — hard launching with the blue lock boys after a rumour includes: sae, karasu, rin + bonus: shidou note: i've tried to keep fcs ambigious but unfortunately i was to only find fem bodied ones, ima work and make the next part more gender neutral

Sae Itoshi, who reads the rumour and straight up announces your engagement

Sae squints over your shoulder as your lips part in disbelief over the brazen lies the gossip account has been posting. You feel his hot breath on your bare shoulder, stretching your arm further, knowing he's not wearing his reading glasses which he's left in the villa.

It's a lovely summer evening in Mallorca, miles away from Ibiza, and by some eerie circumstance the beach at your resort is empty, save for the two of you. Your day of sunbathing and reading had been pleasant, however, this preposterous rumour poked through your sanctuary of peace as a friend forwarded it to you.

This was one of many you'd had to endure in your three years of dating Sae (longer, if you'd count the long-distance pining), so it doesn't bother you as much. You know what you were getting into when you set your sights on a football prodigy as successful and good looking as Sae, though he hates how you placidly accept this news with a purse of your lips and a sigh.

He feels offence on your behalf as he spies the hotel staff setting up the candlelight dinner he plans on proposing to you at at the edge of the shore, the Cartier ring you've been eyeing for the longest time tucked into his bag.

Pressing a kiss to the juncture of skin between your neck and shoulder, he ignores the guilt that's creeping up his spine when he tells you to "pay the paparazzi no mind."

He can't help himself to slip his phone out and snap a picture of the scenery before him, you basking in the twilight in your bikini top, a copy of My Year of Rest and Relaxation over your eyes as the blazing Sun sinks into the sea.

The decision to keep your relationship private was a mutual one; in the initial stages Sae didn't want you to be harassed by his legions of loyal fans, and you didn't want Sae, known for his private image to be harangued by reporters when they should be focusing on his performance. You never really talked about reverting this decision, and as time with him flew by, you became an expert at dealing with the baggage that comes with being involved with a celebrity.

However, when Sae feels your incadescent smile against his lips, the band on your finger glinting in the moonlight, the images of the beginning of a shared life flashing at the back of his head, he thinks that you shouldn't have to deal with his baggage any longer; not when the two of you were starting a chapter together.

Later that night, inhaling the scent of the ocean and strawberry margaritas in your hair as you sleep peacefully in his arms, Sae hits "post."

Oliver Aiku, who needs to be defended by you, the only person who he's ever posted

"Ooh, you're getting clocked," you giggle, carding your free hand through his hair and swiping through your Twitter feed with the other. Cracking one emerald eye open, Oliver lets out a weary sigh.

"What now?", he grumbles. "If they've finally traced back all those Barou dating rumours to me just know I've included you in my will."

"'Included'? Am I not getting your entire estate, you stingy old man?", you tease, tugging at his roots. He groans in response, mimicking a ruffled cat who'd just been rudely interrupted from its afternoon nap.

"And no, apparently, your exes have grouped together to do a confessional on you in some tabloid," you chuckle, passing him his phone. You, better than anyone else, know Oliver's complicated romantic past, womanising behaviour and hookup culture fuelled coping tendencies while the two of you pined for each other from the sidelines for years, hoping to erase thoughts of the other by pursuing half-assed relationships.

Not that it worked particularly well, considering you're spending summer break in his apartment in Stockholm simulating level of domesticity you'd taken to a little scarily fast.

Reading out some of the downright malicious things his exes have said ("Really? You'd place sports bets based on their recommendations? No wonder you lost so much cash."), he hears the tinkle of your laughter through his sun-dappled room at some of these quotes, happy at how you were secure enough with him to dismiss these silly one liners as figments of his unscrupulous past.

The truth is that he's really been trying. You've always been too important to him to fuck things up with — the source of his exes' despair of always being "obsessed with texting someone else at late hours of the night", courtesy of different timezones, or being the only person he'd pick up drunk when you'd be in Tokyo. For once, he was nervous about a relationship, treating you with unexpected gentleness.

You've taken many of his firsts, he realises: first proper date he actually planned out, first time sending flowers at two and three month anniversaries, all that corny stuff he never saw himself doing.

He only supposes you take this first and last from him, too.

Swiping off Twitter, Oliver begins poring through your Photos to find a suitable snap from last night when you'd met his friends at the club. Settling on one where he's wearing cufflinks with the initials of your name, he accesses his Instagram from your phone (a safety measure), calmly adding one more post to his limited feed.

Rin Itoshi, who's honestly been itching to do this for a while now

"For fuck's sake," Rin grouses, sipping the water you just handed him. Drenched in sweat, jersey sticking to his back, he'd been grateful when you showed up to give him company as he trained, saying something about "studying anatomy" while pencilling in your sketchbook as he took shot after shot.

Instead, he's subjected to you quizzically raising an eyebrow in the direction of his over-enthusiastic physiotherapist who had a thing for announcing to the public whenever her and Rin were together.

Peeved at the sheer idiocy of the rumour, and irritated at her complete disrespect for Rin's boundaries, with his dislike of publicity well-documented, you were rightfully going to march over and give her a piece of your mind. It wasn't like you'd spend your afternoons in the bleachers of the Parc Des Princes to soak in the sweat, or that Rin would saunter over to you in every free minute to critique your latest doodle — since the day you'd preached at him in the Louvre, everyone from the coaching analysts to substitutes on PXG knew you were a couple.

Rin can practically feel the annoyance radiating off you in an aura unlike the ones that possessed footballers during heated matches. A little pleased with the jealousy something as petty as a gossip column elicited from you, he appreciatively hands you the bottle back and gives your hand a squeeze.

"I've got this."

Though he has to wrangle out the passwords for his social media accounts from his management since he rarely uses them, Rin makes it a point to carefully vet and select photos of you and him during his break. Though he looks comical in some, and downright unflattering in others, he couldn't give a damn less seeing the excitement in your eyes as you lean over the barrier, Airdropping photos to him.

After curating the perfect post, Rin calls for his physio, who practically skips along the grass to the bleachers, but blanches when she sees your unimpressed expression.

"Take a picture of us," he brusquely asks, shoving his phone into her hands, downturned in a sneer. Before she can react, he catches you completely off guard, crashing his lips against yours. Your eyes are shut, but you know him well enough to sense that he's smirking right now. He kisses you a lot longer than necessary for one shot, snaking his hand along your waist for good measure, practically pulling you over the blue barriers on your tiptoes.

You squeak when he lets go, licking his lips ever so slightly as the mortified PT squirms while handing him his phone. "Huh. So you are half-competent at something after all."

Tabito Karasu, who's three months in and knows you're the one

Karasu's a perfect gentleman. Even before you started dating, back in highschool, he'd be one of those quietly chivalric guys who'd hold doors open or jackets above your head if it rained. The kind of guy who'd snatch grocery bags out of your hand despite making a quip about "weak arms." Now, you think that he's a little too perfect.

Things that would be a dealbreaker in other relationships, such as both of your packed schedules, the invasiveness of the internet and the fact that time was not on your side most of the time almost spurred Karasu on to make an extra effort. Your research is going late into the night? He's there to pick you up. You're craving takeout after being absolutely decimated by a physics seminar? He's already wearing his baseball cap and sunglasses, one foot out of the door.

Truth be told, Karasu's a little over-awed by you and your brain He thinks he could spent hours immersed in your world as you ramble on about the paradoxes and theories you're learning, or the cutting-edge research you're contributing to. Though it makes him acutely aware that he has much to learn outside of football, you satiate his curiosity in ways that make him feel that he's the only person you've deigned worth talking to.

Otoya makes fun of him for how whipped he is, and though he hasn't had much experience prior to you other than people just throwing themselves at him, he knows this is more than a fleeting crush. So he goes the extra mile in every little thing, sparing no expense.

The day your finals were over he ringed in the celebrations with you in your dorm, blasting songs he was surprised you even knew the lyrics to. Scaring him with your ability to recite Future bar for bar with him on "Low Life", Karasu feels overcome with an urge hold onto you for dear life. The need to make it exclusively clear to everyone around him that you're the one for him becomes much clearer when a shopping trip turns to an absurd coincidence in the rumour mill, one that's got you all nervous in front of him.

He can't help but feel the dull stab of anger as you, clearly overwhelmed by the opinion of the Internet, spend the day upset. If it's one thing he dislikes, it's when things don't go his way. Instead of complaining about it, though, the words leave his mouth before he can even process what they mean, a rarity for someone like him.

"Come with me to the JFA dinner this weekend."

BONUS: Shidou Ryusei, who never even thought it was a secret

a/n yall im not freaky enough yet to write for shidou but i think the scenario is a really funny one in my head i had sm fun doing this though we got barou n isagi down for pt 2 who else?

#blue lock x reader #[ tracklisted ]#shidou ryusei x reader #blue lock fluff #tabito karasu x reader #karasu x reader #shidou x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #oliver aiku x reader #oliver x reader

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fairytaleendingss · 1 day ago

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Room for One More?

Chapter 10

Summary: You finally end up spending some time alone with Remus.

CW: Coughing, Fever, Fainting, Description of sickness, Nightmares, Sirius being emotionally stunted.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay on this one. I've been trying to branch out a bit with my writing over the last little bit to keep the inspiration going.

To be honest, I'm feeling a little lost with this story. I'm going to continue writing it, don't worry! But I really only properly planned up until the Christmas chapter, so if anyone has any ideas of what they'd like to see happen, feel free to send me a request!

The door closed behind you with a loud thump. You leaned your head on it for a moment, panting to catch you breath.

It had been a particularly long day at work. Most of the staff were off sick due to a flu outbreak and it meant that all the more responsibility fell on you. On top of that, you'd felt extremely exhausted all day. You weren't sure if it was from being overworked or a lack of sleep or some twisted combination of the two but your limbs felt like lead and your eyes had kept falling shut from where they were fixated on the screen of your computer.

The walk up the stairs had been torture paired with the fatigue that was consuming your bones and you felt your legs ache as you entered the hall of your apartment.

"Are you alright?"

You jumped as a voice emerged from behind you and you swung around to see Remus seated on the couch with a book in hand.

"Jesus!" you shouted, clutching a hand to your chest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

You shook your head, sniffling slightly. "No it's fine. I just... didn't expect you to be sitting there."

He chuckled dryly. "Right, well no one is home so I thought I'd make use of the living room for a bit."

"Right..."

James had left two days ago for some sort of 'team building' trip with his workmates and you supposed Sirius had a gig tonight with the band, leaving only you and Remus in the apartment. As happy as you were that you didn't have to interact with Sirius tonight (you were still upset with him and really didn't have the energy right now to put on a happy face), you sort of wished James was there to ease the tension. Things had been more amicable with Remus lately. His Christmas gift had helped to ease some of the animosity between you, but you were still far from friends. You barely talked outside of necessary pleasantries and you definitely never spent time alone together.

You cleared your throat awkwardly but it quickly morphed into a loud cough. Remus looked up from his book once more, his brows furrowed as he assessed you from across the room.

"That doesn't sound good. Are you feeling okay?"

You huffed out a breath, throwing your bag down on the kitchen counter and running a hand over your face.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired," you murmured awkwardly. "I think I'll have an early night."

Swiftly, you began moving across the room towards the bathroom.

"Okay but-"

You shut the door with a sigh before Remus was able to continue.

You leaned back against the bathroom door, feeling a drop of sweat trail from your hairline and down the side of your face. If you were being completely honest, you felt like shit. You were just too embarrassed to admit you felt like shit in front of Remus.

You took a deep breath and straightened up, hoping a shower would help you feel a little more like yourself.

You stripped off, shivering in the cool air of the bathroom and turned the shower nob. Then you stepped under the spray, letting the warm water wash over you as the room began to fill with steam.

You didn't know how long you stood under the water, letting it sooth your aching bones but once you stepped out, you noticed that the sky outside the bathroom window had grown dark.

Slowly you trudged from the bathroom to your bedroom at the end of the hallway, pulling on your comfiest pajamas. With the little energy you had left, you shuffled out into the living area in the hopes of finding some leftovers in the fridge to at eat for dinner before you went to bed and inevitably slept for the next 48 hours.

As you emerged from the hallway, you noticed that you had begun to feel substantially worse. You were shivering despite wearing your thickest woolen pajamas, but somehow you were sweating at the same time.

You were glad to see that Remus had retired to his bedroom for the evening, not wanting him to see you in such a pathetic state. Your legs felt like they had cinderblocks tied to them, every step taking an immense amount of your dwindling energy.

As you made your way through the room, you suddenly began to feel... odd. You're head felt heavy, your vision darkening around the edges.

You came to a halt beside the couch, blinking absently and taking a second to catch your breath but it didn't seem to help all that much. Then, without warning, everything went black.

"Y/n?..."

"...hey, can you hear me?"

There was a voice coming from somewhere above you but you couldn't quite place who's it was.

You blinked slowly, awareness returning to your foggy mind. As you vision cleared, the first thing you saw were Remus' concerned chocolate eyes boring down on you.

"Hey, are you okay? You with me now?"

It was then his full face came into frame. Looking around, you realised that you were lying on the floor beside the coffee table, your feet resting on a pile of couch cushions. Remus was on his knees beside you, leaning down with a hand resting gently on top of your head.

You mustered a nod, a wave of embarrassment rippling through you.

"Okay, that's good," he murmured kindly. "Did you hit your head?"

"I- um," you took stock of how you were feeling. You were uncomfortable and still vaguely dizzy. Your elbow was throbbing from where you must've hit it on the corner of the coffee table as you fell but other than that, you didn't seem to have injured yourself too badly.

"N-no. I don't think so."

Remus nodded, his brows pinching in thought as he scanned through the next steps in his head.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

He flashed a peace sign in your direction.

"Two."

"Good, that's good. Do you think you feel ready to sit up?"

"Y-yeah... I think so," you mumbled unsurely.

"Okay, I'll help you. Take your time," he responded in a voice more gentle than you'd ever heard him speak in - to you at least.

He shuffled around a little bit so he was rested at your hip and then with steady hands placed under your back, he helped you sit up. The room tilted as you came upright but not nearly as violently as it had before.

Then, Remus guided you so that you were leaning back against the edge of the couch. He sat back on his knees, observing your form and you let out a heavy sigh, shaking with embarrassment - or maybe that was from the fever.

"Sorry about all this," you mumbled, shutting your eyes in the hopes of blocking out Remus' devastatingly concerned facial expression.

"It's not your fault," he was quick to reassure. "Besides, I'm a med student. You've given me an opportunity to test my knowledge on something practical."

You knew he was joking but your cheeks flushed nonetheless.

"It's really fine," he stated sincerely, upon noticing the mortification written across your face. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Your fever is pretty high."

"It is?"

He chuckled half-heartedly. "Yes. I would recommend that next time you don't take a scorching hot shower when your temperature is already at 39 degrees."

You cringed. "So this whole fainting ordeal could've been avoided then?"

"In theory, yes."

You groaned and covered your face with your hand. "Well on that note, I think I'm just going to go to bed."

You moved to pull yourself up but Remus rushed to grasp your arms on the way.

"Woah, hey, let me help you. You shouldn't be moving around too much yet."

"Right, sorry," you uttered awkwardly.

"It's okay. Here," with gentle precision, Remus got to his feet and lifted your arm around his shoulders. With so little energy remaining, you weren't bothered to be self-conscious as you leaned your weight against him and the two of you hobbled down the hall into your room.

When he deposited you into your bed, you immediately curled up in the sheets, shutting your eyes.

However, they popped open once again when you felt something cool press against your forehead only moments later.

You looked up to see Remus retreating from your room after laying a cool towel across your feverish forehead. As you drifted off into a fitful sleep, your last thought was about how he'd never been in your room before. You wondered if you'd remembered to tidy it.

You were running through a dark dense forest. Something was chasing you. You couldn't quite make out what it was but you knew it was angry.

You tried to move faster but as you ran, the forest grew wider and longer and darker. The branches were becoming thicker, they scratched your arms as you waded through the trees. You could hear the creature growling behind you. It was getting closer. You were panting and sweating, pushing yourself as fast as you could go but it felt as though the forest floor was covered in sand, your feet sinking into it every time they hit the ground.

You pushed on, carrying yourself forward, willing yourself to pick up the pace.

Then the ground dropped away completely. A cliff ledge had emerged in front of you and before you could stop yourself, you'd reached it.

Then you were falling.

You awoke with a start, gasping and panting for air. You were drenched in sweat, tangled up in your crumpled bed sheets. It was too hot, almost unbearably so. You thrashed around frantically for some semblance of relief.

It was at that moment, your door creaked open and a tentative Remus entered your room. He froze when he noticed you were awake and gaping at him with wide eyes.

"I just came in to check on you. How are you feeling?"

You went to respond but were overtaken with a slew of coughing that wracked through your body. Remus was at your side in an instant, a gentle hand placed on your back as you rode out the fit.

"I think it's time for some medicine," he mumbled under his breath, likely directed more towards himself than you.

It was then that you noticed the tray of items he'd placed on the table beside your bed. There was a bottle of water and an assortment of medicines as well as a thermometer which he picked up and proceeded to press into your ear.

You were so out of it, practically delirious with fever, that it took you a moment to realise how unusual this situation was. Remus - the same roommate who had been consistently cold and abrasive towards you in the months since you moved in - was now sitting at your bedside taking care of you while you were ill. It was completely unexpected, although you had to admit, not unwelcome. Something inside you stirred at the care he was showing you.

The pulled away, humming disapprovingly at the reading. You watched him with wide eyes as he busied himself reading medicine labels.

"Here, take these," he told you and dropped an assortment of pills into your hand. Then he uncapped the water bottle and handed it to you.

After you'd taken the medicine he gave you, he encouraged you to nestle back down under your covers and he pulled your duvet up to your chin.

"Try to get some sleep. Hopefully you'll feel better with a bit of rest," he told you.

He then turned, beginning to walk towards the doorway but you grabbed a hold of his wrist before he was able to leave.

"Remus," you muttered weakly, looking up at him with big, imploring eyes. Maybe it was the medicine or the fever, you weren't really sure, but an unwarranted confidence had begun to possess you.

He turned to look at you, his eyebrow raised in concern.

"Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?"

He paused for a moment, clearly surprised as he pondered the request. Then he looked back at you, taking in your pathetic form and he sighed, his shoulders relaxing.

"Okay. I can do that."

You wriggled over a little, patting the left side of your bed. Remus hesitantly took a seat on top of the covers, looking very out of place in your bedroom.

Subconsciously, you edged towards him, drawn into his body heat as you moved to a comfortable position.

Your eyes grew heavier as the effects of the medicine began to take hold. However, as sleep claimed you, a few last words rolled off your tongue before you could stop them.

"Why don't you like me Remus?"

He turned to you, raising an eyebrow as his gaze cast over your form.

"I mean, I try really hard to be your friend and I want us to be closer but you always treat me like you don't care. I don't know what I've done wrong."

Remus sighed heavily. "That's not true, Y/n. I do care about you. I just... I was worried that when you moved in, the dynamic with my friend group was going to change and I didn't know how to deal with it. But I'm sorry that I took it out on you. It was my issue, not yours and I should've been kinder. The truth is, I-"

He was cut short when you let out a congested snore beside him. He looked down to notice that your breathing had evened out and you'd drifted off into a semi-peaceful sleep, your warm head pressed up against his hip.

He couldn't suppress the fond smile that crossed his features at the sight. With a feather-light touch, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

It was just past one in the morning when Sirius returned from a gig with his band at a Pub down the road.

It had been a good night. The crowd was energetic and they didn't mess up any of their set-list. It was a great show and he'd hung around afterwards for a couple of drinks and a bit of flirting with a few of the girls who'd been in the front of the crowd. However, despite the success of the evening, something felt like it was... missing somehow.

Even sitting across from an eager and curvaceous ginger, with a free beer in hand, his mind couldn't help but linger on... you. This was something that had happened more times then he cared to admit over the past few weeks.

To his own surprise, he'd turned down her advances in favour of heading home to your company. He hoped you'd still be awake as you sometimes were at this time on a Friday night. He expected to find you binge-watching Modern Family in the living room with a glass of wine in hand.

However, when he arrived back at the house, he was disappointed to find the space void of human life.

He took off his leather jacket and hung it on the rack by the door as his eyes scanned the empty living room. When he walked down the hallway, he was happy to see that there was a faint light coming from under your door.

He carefully pushed it open, not wanting to disturb you if you were writing. To his surprise, the sight he was met with was far from the one he expected.

There was Remus, sitting on your bed, reading a book in the soft glow of your bedside lamp while you were practically curled up in his lap, your breathing ragged as you slept.

Remus looked up to meet his friend's wide eyes as he observed the scene before him.

"Oh, hi. You're back earlier than expected."

Sirius blinked at him for a moment, trying to act nonchalant as he regained his bearings.

"Ah yeah. I guess I just wasn't feeling it tonight," then he gestured towards you. "Is she okay?"

Remus just nodded, sending his friend a soft smile. "Yeah. She's a little under the weather but seems to be a little better now."

He brushed a few fingers over your forehead, stroking some hair away from you eyes in the process as he got a gage of your temperature.

Sirius' heart clenched in a way he couldn't quite make sense of as he watched the moment unfold.

"She had a pretty high fever earlier," Remus explained. "But we managed to get it down."

"Ah, right," Sirius muttered, leaning against the doorframe. "Is... um, is there anything I can do? or..."

Remus gently shook his head. "Thanks for the offer but I think we'll be fine."

"Okay, well... I'll leave you to it then," Sirius stated with a tight-lipped smile.

"Okay, goodnight. Sleep well, Sirius."

"You too, Rem," He responded, closing the door behind him.

He let out a huff of air once he was out of earshot. There were a bunch of unexplainable feelings swirling inside of him. Was he jealous? No that wasn't it. It was something else. An odd sort of ache that lingered inside of him, a yearning for something that he couldn't quite place.

All he knew was that he didn't like it.

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