#this year being back closer to where my people are decided to do a big party instead this weekend

[rowenabean]

.

[retrosabers]

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.

contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance

i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.

also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.

a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.

at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.

excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.

as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.

if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.

what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.

a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.

your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.

bucky barnes.

quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.

to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.

what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.

it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.

the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.

flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.

you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.

when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.

the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.

you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.

please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.

in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.

it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.

you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.

surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.

bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.

“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.

you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.

it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.

here goes nothing.

“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.

a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.

you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.

“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.

for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.

“don’t recall asking for that either.”

you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”

“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.

despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.

“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.

“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”

bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.

“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.

you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.

“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”

he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”

you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””

why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.

that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.

just your luck, he’s right on schedule.

“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”

a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.

before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.

“merry christmas buck.”

your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.

and yet. he enjoyed the burn.

as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.

“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.

you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.

while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.

he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.

that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.

a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.

his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.

i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.

merry christmas ♡

bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.

from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.

you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.

but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.

later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.

bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.

tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.

and to ask you about your record collection.

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[solxamber]

stay w me in this one, kiss cam w the first years 🙂‍↕

Kiss Cam with: The First Years

a/n; anon you brain is so big!! i got so happy??? when i saw this?? i kinda blacked out for a while and ended up writing it

Ace Trappola

The arena was packed, the air buzzing with energy as the Magift team dominated the field. You were sandwiched between Deuce and Ace, the latter chugging a soda while obnoxiously yelling at the players.

“Ace, they can’t hear you,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as he yelled, “PASS THE DISC, YOU IDIOT!”

“I don’t care! They need to know how bad they’re screwing up!” Ace shot back, waving his drink wildly.

Deuce leaned over, clearly mortified. “Can you not embarrass us in front of the whole school?”

Ace just smirked. “What? Embarrassed to be seen with your cooler, more handsome best friend?”

You snorted. “Handsome? In your dreams, Trappola.”

Ace turned to you, feigning offense. “Oh, so I’m not handsome? Guess I’ll have to let the kiss cam settle this one.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

As if the universe decided to spite you, the lights dimmed, and a giant heart frame appeared on the jumbotron.

You froze. “No. No way.”

Ace leaned forward, his grin turning devious. “Oh yes.”

Deuce, ever the supportive friend, burst into laughter, slapping his knee. “This is the best day of my life.”

Meanwhile, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “This has to be a mistake.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Come on, lovebirds! Don’t be shy! Show us some NRC spirit!”

“I’m going to die,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“Not without giving the people what they want,” Ace teased, turning to you with an exaggerated smirk. “Come on, for school pride.”

You glared at him, your cheeks burning. “Ace Trappola, I will—”

Before you could finish, Ace leaned in, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Relax. It’s just a little kiss, right?”

Your breath hitched. The crowd was chanting louder now, and your heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the embarrassment.

“Just a little kiss,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

And then it happened.

When his lips met yours, the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles, and applause. Time seemed to stop as the noise around you faded into a distant hum.

His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, and the faint taste of soda lingered as he pulled back, his face flushed but grinning like an idiot.

“Well,” he said, his voice slightly breathless, “that wasn’t so bad, huh?”

You blinked at him, your brain short-circuiting. “You… You just kissed me!”

“You kissed me back,” he shot back, his grin widening.

Deuce, still laughing like a lunatic, clapped Ace on the back. “Congratulations, Trappola. You finally grew a pair.”

Ace turned to the jumbotron, where your kiss was being replayed in slow motion. “Man, we look good together,” he said smugly, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You shoved him, your face burning hotter than the sun. “Don’t push your luck.”

The rest of the game passed in a blur. Ace was insufferably smug, Deuce wouldn’t stop teasing you, and your heart refused to calm down.

As the crowd filed out of the arena, Ace caught your hand, stopping you just outside the gates.

“Hey,” he said, his usual grin replaced with something softer. “So, uh… about earlier.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I like you. Like, a lot. And this is not just because of the kiss cam thing.”

You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Ace…”

“I mean, no pressure or anything!” he added quickly, his face turning red. “But, you know, if you did want to be more than friends, I wouldn’t mind…”

You smiled, stepping closer and leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re such an idiot.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait—does that mean…?”

“It means yes, Ace,” you said, laughing. “But you better not let this go to your head.”

Ace grinned, grabbing your hand. “Too late.”

Spoiler: Ace tells everyone at school, and now half the campus thinks the kiss cam was staged. You’re stuck with him, but honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Deuce Spade

The stadium buzzed with excitement, the crowd alive with cheers as NRC's Magift team scored another point. You sat beside Deuce, who was yelling encouragement so earnestly you swore the players might actually hear him through sheer determination.

“Come on! You’ve got this! Pass it—yes!” he shouted, punching the air.

You couldn’t help but smile. Deuce’s enthusiasm was contagious, even if he had accidentally knocked over your popcorn in his excitement earlier.

“You’re going to lose your voice,” you teased, nudging his arm.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied with a grin. “This is important!”

What wasn’t important, however, was the dreaded kiss cam that appeared on the giant screen moments later.

The heart-shaped frame zoomed in on various couples, each one receiving cheers as they nervously or enthusiastically complied. You laughed, thinking nothing of it—until your own face appeared on the screen.

You froze. “Oh no.”

Deuce, oblivious, kept clapping until the heart frame zoomed out to reveal him beside you. His face turned crimson so fast you worried he might combust.

“W-What?!” he stammered, pointing at the screen as if denying its existence might make it disappear.

The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers, the announcer’s voice booming. “Come on, lovebirds! Let’s see some NRC spirit!”

“Deuce, say something,” you hissed, your face burning.

“I—uh—I—” he stuttered, looking everywhere but at you. “They—uh—made a mistake! Right?!”

The announcer wasn’t letting up. “Looks like someone’s shy! Don’t leave us hanging!”

Deuce looked at you helplessly, his face a mix of panic and mortification. “I-I’m so sorry about this!”

You sighed, your own heart racing. “It’s fine, Deuce. Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on.”

He nearly choked. “A kiss?!”

“It’s not a marriage proposal!” you shot back, trying to keep your cool despite your own nerves.

He nodded frantically, visibly psyching himself up. “O-Okay! Let’s do this!”

Deuce leaned in slowly, his eyes shut so tightly you thought he might be praying for divine intervention. His lips brushed your cheek in the softest, most hesitant kiss imaginable before he pulled back like he’d just touched a live wire.

The crowd cheered wildly, but Deuce wasn’t done. In his panic, he’d miscalculated the kiss angle, and his forehead accidentally bumped yours as he pulled away.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” he asked, horrified.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nervousness melting away at his sheer awkwardness. “I’m fine, Deuce.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his hands hovering like he wanted to check for injuries.

You smiled and, feeling bold, leaned forward to kiss his cheek in return. The crowd’s cheers doubled, and Deuce looked at you like you’d just announced he’d won the lottery.

“Um,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “That was… uh… nice.”

You laughed. “It’s just a kiss, Deuce.”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a kiss.”

Deuce spent the rest of the game sneaking glances at you, his face perpetually red. By the time the match ended, you were sure he’d worn a hole in the ground with all his nervous foot-tapping.

As the two of you walked back to the dorms, he finally cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I… I really like you.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “Deuce—”

“I mean it!” he said quickly, his words tumbling out like he’d been holding them back for ages. “I’ve liked you for a while, but I didn’t know how to tell you, and the kiss cam just kind of—”

You cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips, effectively silencing his rambling.

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, smiling at his stunned expression.

Deuce nodded, his face practically glowing. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Spoiler: Ace finds out and teases Deuce relentlessly, but Deuce doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class and holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack Howl

The stadium was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd reverberating through the stands as NRC's Magift team dominated the field. You sat beside Jack, who had insisted you attend because "It's good to support our school." Truthfully, you didn’t mind—watching the game with Jack was its own kind of fun.

He sat rigidly in his seat, tail swishing lightly as his sharp eyes tracked every play on the field. You chuckled at how serious he looked.

"Jack, relax. It's just a game," you teased.

"It's not just a game," he replied, his ears flicking. "This is about teamwork, discipline, and—"

He stopped mid-sentence when the crowd erupted in cheers. You both looked up to the big screen, only to see a giant pink heart frame around… you and Jack.

Cue Panic.

“Wait, what?!” you exclaimed, your face instantly heating up.

Jack’s ears flattened against his head as his eyes widened in sheer panic. “Oh no.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Looks like we’ve got a shy couple! Let’s hear it for them, folks!”

The crowd cheered louder, and you groaned. “Oh, come on…”

Jack was frozen in place, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. His tail puffed up slightly as he asked, “They’ll move on, right? They’ll pick someone else?”

You glanced at the screen, seeing your own mortified expression reflected back at you. “Not unless we do something.”

Jack’s face turned impossibly red. “You mean…?”

“Yes, Jack,” you said, trying to suppress your own embarrassment. “A kiss. Just a small one! It’s no big deal.”

Jack looked at you like you’d just asked him to leap off a cliff. “I can’t! What if it’s weird? Or awkward? Or—”

“Jack,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s just a game. Let’s get it over with.”

His ears twitched nervously as he nodded. “Okay. But, uh… where?”

“Where?” you repeated, confused.

“I mean, do I… your cheek? Your forehead? I—I don’t want to—”

“Jack!” you laughed, despite your own nerves. “Cheek is fine.”

He nodded again, his tail wagging nervously behind him as he leaned in. Just as his lips barely brushed your cheek, the crowd erupted in cheers—only for Jack to try to jerk back so fast that his forehead bumped yours.

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your head.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, panicking.

“I’m fine,” you said, trying not to laugh at his flustered expression. “But you might’ve just knocked me into next week.”

The announcer’s voice interrupted. “Let’s hear it for our lovebirds! What a show!”

You both sank further into your seats, faces burning. Jack mumbled an apology, looking like he wanted to crawl under the stadium.

“You know,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “You could’ve just kissed me properly.”

Jack froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “What?”

“Yeah,” you teased, grinning. “You’re already on the big screen. Might as well make it count.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his ears flicking nervously. Then, to your surprise, he leaned in again—this time more confidently—and pressed a quick, warm kiss to your lips.

The crowd lost it, cheering so loudly you could barely hear yourself think.

When Jack pulled back, his face was crimson, but there was a small, shy smile on his lips. “There. Was… was that okay?”

You smiled back, your heart racing. “More than okay.”

Jack spent the rest of the game sitting a little closer to you, his tail wagging uncontrollably. As you left the stadium, he finally cleared his throat.

“So… does this mean we’re—uh… dating?” he asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

You laughed, grabbing his hand. “What do you think?”

Jack’s tail wagged even harder. “I think I’m really lucky.”

Spoiler: Ace, Deuce and Epel find out later and tease Jack mercilessly, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class with his hand in yours.

Epel Felmier

The game was electric, with the crowd roaring as NRC held a narrow lead over RSA. You sat near the bench, cheering loudly for one player in particular. Epel was a blur of determination on the field, his every move brimming with adrenaline and a grit that made your heart race just watching him.

During halftime, the players jogged off the field to hydrate and strategize. Epel wiped the sweat from his brow and spotted you by the bench. You held up an electrolyte drink with a proud smile.

“Here, you earned it!” you said, handing him the bottle.

He accepted it with a quick grin, gulping it down like a man dying of thirst. “Thanks. Didja see that shot I made earlier?”

“I did!” you replied enthusiastically. “You’re playing amazing out there!”

Your encouragement had him standing a little taller, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and affection. “Well, I ain’t done yet. Gotta show those RSA guys what we’re made of.”

But before he could head back to the huddle, the crowd’s noise shifted. You both turned toward the massive screen above the field, where a familiar heart-shaped frame surrounded… the two of you.

Epel froze for a fraction of a second, his flushed face turning an even deeper shade of red. You stared at the screen in surprise, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Is that… the kiss cam?” you muttered.

Epel glanced back at his team’s huddle, where his teammates were laughing and giving him exaggerated thumbs-ups. The crowd began chanting, egging him on.

In that moment, with the adrenaline from the game still coursing through his veins and the giddy rush of your praise in his chest, Epel made a snap decision.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you—hard, fast, and with enough confidence to leave you absolutely stunned.

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles as Epel pulled back, his violet eyes sparkling mischievously. “Thanks for the drink,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just turned your world upside down.

Then, with one last grin, he jogged back to his team, leaving you standing there, breathless and staring after him.

The rest of the game was a blur. Epel was on fire, scoring two more goals and securing the win for NRC. The crowd was ecstatic, the team celebrating wildly, but your mind was stuck on that kiss.

When the post-game frenzy finally settled, Epel approached you by the bleachers. He was still sweaty and flushed, but his usual nervousness was nowhere to be seen. The adrenaline from the game still seemed to fuel him as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Hey,” he started, his accent thick and his voice a little raspy. “About that kiss earlier…”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding. “What about it?”

Epel took a deep breath, his violet eyes locking onto yours. “I ain’t just kissin’ people for fun, ya know? I… I like you. A lot. And I’ve been wantin’ to say somethin’ for ages, but I didn’t know how. Guess the kiss cam kinda forced my hand.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his honesty. “So what are you saying, Epel?”

“I’m sayin’... would ya go out with me?” he asked, his cheeks turning red again.

You pretended to think for a moment, but the truth was, you already knew your answer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Epel’s face lit up, his grin wide and genuine. “Really?!”

“Really,” you said, laughing.

He fist-pumped the air triumphantly before quickly trying to play it cool. “Well, uh, that’s great. I’ll, uh, plan somethin’ nice, alright?”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied, your smile as wide as his.

The kiss cam video was all over campus the next day, much to Epel’s embarrassment and your amusement. Still, neither of you could deny how it sparked something wonderful between you.

And yet, every time someone teased him about it, Epel would just grin and shrug. “What can I say? I go for what I want.”

Sebek Zigvolt

The Magift stadium was loud and lively, the crowd cheering wildly as NRC battled RSA in a fierce match. You sat next to Sebek, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Not for the game, mind you, but for the honor of cheering for his young master.

“Do you see that?!” Sebek shouted, practically jumping out of his seat. “The precision! The sheer grace! Lord Malleus is unmatched on the field!”

You smiled, resting your chin on your hand. “Yeah, Sebek, I see it. You’ve mentioned it about... ten times now.”

“Only ten?!” He gasped, scandalized. “I must rectify this immediately—”

Before he could continue his speech, the crowd erupted into cheers. Confused, you looked up at the massive screen, only to freeze.

There, framed in a gigantic pink heart, were you and Sebek.

“What… what is this madness?!” Sebek’s voice boomed over the crowd noise, his face quickly turning beet red.

“It’s the kiss cam,” you explained, already feeling the heat creeping up your neck.

Sebek blinked at you, utterly baffled. “Kiss cam? What nonsense is this?!”

The announcer chimed in cheerfully. “Looks like we’ve got a lively one, folks! Give the crowd what they want!”

The audience clapped and whistled, clearly entertained by Sebek’s outburst. Meanwhile, you wished you could melt into the ground.

“Sebek, we’re on the big screen,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low. “Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on!”

Sebek recoiled as if you’d suggested dueling Malleus. “What?! A kiss? In public? In front of—of all these people?”

“Yes!” you snapped. “It’s not that big of a deal!”

“But—! But—!” Sebek sputtered, his hands flailing in an uncharacteristically awkward display. “I cannot—this is—HOW DARE THEY IMPOSE SUCH A THING?"

The crowd was relentless, chanting louder as Sebek grew more flustered.

“Sebek,” you sighed, leaning closer to him. “If you don’t just do it, they’ll keep us up there forever.”

His eyes widened, darting between you and the screen. “I—fine! But only to end this nonsense!”

Sebek sat up stiffly, his face as red as his dorm uniform. Slowly, he leaned toward you… only to stop halfway, completely frozen.

“Sebek,” you whispered, trying not to laugh at his deer-in-headlights expression. “You’re overthinking it. Just a little peck.”

He shut his eyes tightly, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “For the honor of the young master.” Then, with the precision of someone about to execute a high-level spell, he leaned in and pressed the briefest kiss imaginable to your cheek.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Sebek immediately pulled back, clutching his chest like he’d just fought a dragon.

“Well, that was…” You paused, trying to find the right word. “Anticlimactic.”

Sebek glared at you, still blushing furiously. “What more do you want?! I have upheld this ridiculous tradition to the best of my ability!”

You smirked, leaning closer. “Oh, come on. You’re supposed to kiss me on the lips.”

“WHAT?!” Sebek practically shouted, earning another wave of laughter from the crowd.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you teased, leaning in just a bit more.

Sebek’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment, but before you could follow through on your teasing threat, he surprised you by leaning in and kissing you properly.

It was quick and clumsy but sincere, and when he pulled back, the people sitting around you erupted into wild cheers.

Sebek, meanwhile, looked like he was about to faint. “There. Are you satisfied now?!”

You laughed, touching your lips. “Actually, yeah. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

For the rest of the game, Sebek sat ramrod straight, refusing to look at you.

When the match ended and you both walked back to campus, he finally broke the silence. “That… that was purely for practical purposes!”

You grinned. “Sure, Sebek. Whatever you say.”

He glanced at you, his blush returning in full force. “It—it meant nothing!”

But the way his hand brushed against yours—and stayed there—told a very different story.

Masterlist

[nilefreemans]

I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus

"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.

"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."

Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-

Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-

Is overthinking.

Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.

He's been caught.

"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.

"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.

"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.

Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.

"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."

"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"

"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"

"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.

Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.

"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."

"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.

"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.

"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.

"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.

"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.

"I do fly-"

"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.

"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.

"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.

"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."

"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.

"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."

"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."

They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.

Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.

"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."

"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.

"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.

"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."

Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.

"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.

"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.

Tommy tries.

He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.

"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.

"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.

Tommy is completely charmed by him.

"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.

That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'

"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.

He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #11 - 6% Mentality : why u are holding urself back ?

✒️..It’s January . You’re all fired up about your New Year’s resolutions, right? “This is my year,” u say. “I’ll lose the weight, make the money, start the business, crush my goals.” But BFR : By the time February rolls around, you’re back to your old habits. Your gym membership is collecting dust, that diet is long gone, and that academic cb idea is still just a thought in your head. You’ve been here before iiikr

🏷️[ inspiration: dr.Michelle Robbins refers to her study of 1,000 people, showing that 94% gave up on their resolutions by February but how the 6% managed to succeed ?]

So 94% of people will abandon their goals before they even get started. Let me repeat that 94%. The odds are stacked against you, but there’s a small group—just 6%—who will do the work, face the grind, and get what they want. What separates them from the rest? They know the truth, and they do it even when they don’t feel like it.

Let me give u truth. If you want to be part of the 6%, you need to change how you think, act, and approach your goals. u need to stop being weak.

ONE take charge or shut up.

Your brain is not your friend. It’s a coward. Your brain wants comfort, safety, and the easy way out. Every time you try to do something hard—like losing weight, hitting the gym, or getting out of debt—your brain will whisper, “You deserve a break. Skip the gym. You’ll start tomorrow. One donut won’t hurt.”The reality is that tomorrow never comes. And if you keep listening to your brain, you'll never see any change. The 6%? They don’t listen to their excuses. They take charge. They override their feelings. They don’t give a damn about comfort or instant gratification—they’re thinking about where they want to be a year from now.

You need to make a choice: Are you going to let your feelings control you? Or are you going to start controlling your feelings? Take charge. You don’t want it bad enough if you keep letting your brain win.

Two get specific or quit.

Enough with the vague promises. “I’ll work out more.” “I’ll eat healthier.” Bullshit. That’s not a goal—that’s a wish. You might as well wish on a star and hope things magically change.The 6% know that vague goals don’t work. They get specific. Instead of saying, “I’ll lose weight,” they say, “I’ll eat 1,800 calories a day and hit the gym for 30 minutes every morning at 7 AM.” Instead of saying, “I want to be a high achiever,” they say, “I’ll study 2h and rest for 30 min until I get it” ..Your brain loves specifics. It’s easy to stay motivated when you know exactly what to do. But when you’re vague, you have no idea where you’re going, and no one gets anywhere with no direction.

You need to stop with the “I’ll try” and start with “I will.” If you can’t commit to specifics, then stop whining about why things aren’t working. You get what you decide to get, not what you wish for.

Three focus on the 10

You’re busy. I get it. WE ARE IN A SOCIETY WHERE EVERYONE IS BUSY..You’ve got a million things on your to-do list. But guess what? Most of that stuff doesn’t matter. You’re wasting time on things that don’t move the needle. “Check emails. Scroll Instagram. Clean your room.” Sure, they make you feel productive, but they don’t move you closer to your goals.You need to stop being busy and start being effective. The 6% know how to focus. They don’t waste time on trivial shit. They get to work on the 10s—the things that actually matter. If your goal is to get in shape, that means working out. It doesn’t mean cleaning your kitchen or sending one more email. If your goal is for example become an academic weapon is not watching how to study for exam in the last night ..

Get real with yourself pookie Stop pretending you’re busy. Look at your list. What’s the ONE thing that moves you closer to your goal? Do that first. The rest? It can wait. If it’s not a 10, don’t waste your time on it.

Forth small steps big results.

Let’s not sugarcoat this: If you want to succeed, you have to make sacrifices. There’s no shortcut. But the thing most people don’t get that You don’t need to change everything at once. You don’t need to completely overhaul your life. Start small.Take one step at a time. If you’re trying to lose weight, drink one glass of water before every meal. That’s it. But don’t stop there. Once that becomes easy, add something else: Maybe you walk 10 minutes every day. Or swap out soda for water.

The 6% get it: Small actions snowball. They build momentum. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to show up consistently.

The Challenge: 30 Days of Realness.

Pick one goal. ONE. And commit to it for the next 30 days. No excuses. Write it down. Be specific. Take charge. Get rid of all the distractions and focus on what matters. Every single day, make progress—even if it’s just a little.But if you’re not serious about this, don’t bother. If you’re not willing to do what it takes—if you’re too busy making excuses—then stop pretending you want to change. The 6% don’t have time for excuses. They do the work, even when it’s hard, even when they don’t feel like it.believe in urself and be disciplined !!

So, get off your ass, stop whining, and start doing. Because if you keep playing the same game, you’re going to keep getting the same results. But if you’re ready to be part of the 6%? You better bring your A-game. And you better be real with yourself.

@bloomzone 📇

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Overprotective Dad

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)

Warnings: google translate spanish..

Girl Dad Carlos series continues, enjoy!

Carlos, Charles and Pierre participated in the World Stars Football match. It was a charity football match and it was happening tonight so you and your now three year old daughter Bea decided to go with Carlos and cheer for him.

It was no secret that Carlos loved football and is an avid fan of Real Madrid, so the fact that his wife and daughter will be watching him play tonight made him all too excited.

"Están mis niñas listas?" Carlos asks entering Bea's room where the two of you were getting her ready. (Are my girls ready?)

"All done! Go show daddy what you're wearing." You say as you tighten the red ribbon on her tiny curly ponytail and put her down from your lap. Bea excitedly runs towards Carlos and spins around in front of him showing him the small grey Ferrari sweatshirt that had Sainz written in big red letters on the back and number 55 on the front in the right top corner of the sweatshirt.

"Wow, mi amor, eres hermosa." Carlos says picking her up in his arms and kissing her chubby cheek that was blushing. Bea was a truly girly little girl and she loved compliments and attention especially from Carlos. And Carlos being the best girl dad in the world loved spoiling her. "What does it say on your back?" He asks her.

"Sainz" You whisper to remind her.

"Sainz" And she repeats after you.

"Are you gonna cheer for papa tonight?"

"Yes!!" She screams clapping her hands.

"Did you show him you hair?" You ask stepping closer to them and fixing the ribbon on her hair.

"Let me see." She quickly turns her head and reaches for her ponytail for him to see. "Ayy, maravillosa!" (Gorgeous!)

You put on your long trench coat and high heel boots and Carlos took his backpack and Bea into his arms. Soon you were out the door on your way to the stadium. Since it was big event with a lot of famous athletes, there was a ton of reporters impatiently waiting for them to arrive.

As soon as you saw it, mild anxiety washed over you. You got used to it by now, but you didn't like them taking pictures of Bea. So far you have successfully kept your three-year-old out of the media eye. It's not that you were hiding her, but you didn't like them sharing pictures of her all over the internet.

Besides, as much as Bea is an extrovert and loves attention, she's still just a little kid who gets terrified of a crowd of strangers shouting in her face. And that's exactly what happened this time.

As soon as you got out of the car they spotted you and the camera flashes went off like crazy. You took a deep breath opening the back door of the car to get Bea out of her seat. Carlos stood behind you with the backpack in his hand and held the door of the car open.

"Come here, baby" You say unbuckling her belt as she stretched her arms towards you. Bea already noticed from the car that something was happening outside. They were calling for you shouting your names out loud and she was very confused about who these people are and how do they know her name.

You positioned her on your hip and tightly wrapped your arms around her. At first her big brown eyes widened watching all those people standing in your way as you started walking towards the stadium. Carlos had his arm around you as you walked close to him, but you were struggling because it was hard to see clearly from the flashes and in addition to all that, you were wearing high heel boots and holding your child.

"Mama.." You could hear Bea's heart pounding against your chest and it didn't take long for her to burst into tears. It all became too much for her.

"Baby, it's okay shh.." You tried, but it didn't help and you completely understood why. "Oh my God, I'm gonna trip and fall"

"Give me her" Carlos slung his backpack over his shoulder and stopped walking for a second to take her from your arms into his.

"Are you okay? Hold on to me." He asked you and you quickly gave him a nod. She hid her face into his neck and you held on to his arm as you started walking again.

You could feel Carlos slowly starting to fume with anger because they scared and made his little girl cry, and she was so excited to come here and watch her daddy play. You tightened your grip on him trying to calm him down, but once one of them tried to shove their camera into her face, Carlos was about to lose it. He was not having any of that.

"Do that one more time and I'll smash the fucking camera against your head you fucking piece of shit" He stopped in tracks, his brown eyes darkened. If he hadn't been holding Bea, he would have punched him for sure.

"Carlos, no please" You said pulling him away.

When you finally managed to make your way through the crowd and reach the inside of the stadium you ran into Charles.

"The Sainz family!" Charles yelled smiling, but he quickly noticed something was wrong.

"Just give us a second please." Carlos said to him as you two stood to the side to calm Bea down. "Bebe, it's okay, you're safe, daddy wouldn't let anything happen to you" He said softly wiping her tears away and placing a kiss on her cheek. After a few minutes of comforting, the tears dried up and the sweet smile returned to her face.

"Papi no nos dejes" She said quietly playing with the collar of his t-shirt. (Daddy, don't leave us)

"No bebe, tu y mami vendrán conmigo. Vas a apoyar a papá, sí?" Carlos said tickling her tummy making her laugh and nod in agreement. (No baby, you and mommy will come with me. You're going to cheer for dad, okay?)

"We'll be daddy's loudest cheerleaders, okay?" You said gently pinching her cheek.

"Y más hermosas" (and the most beautiful)

[kinnieys]

NSFW CONTENT ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗

˳೫˚∗warnings: toji is called "sir", choking, pet names, protected sex, virginity loss, spitting kink(?), belly bulge.

˳೫1k words~

ᴛᴜᴛᴏʀ !?

you were a fresh university student, new to everything, stressed... it's not like you failed anything! but history. well, if you keep up with those unsatisfying grades your parents could think again about putting you in such a prestige place, so you had to find a solution but instead the solution found you instead.

you sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair, waiting for the older man to come in with books. a week ago you went to a frat party with your friends and you heard the gossip about some "retried proffessor", nobody really knew what happened, the most realistic guess was that he had a romance with one of his students, even if not forbidden it could give a negative light on such uni you went to.

all people you talked with recommended him, he was cheap and good so you decided to go, not like the money was the problem, the mystery around him pulled you towards the idea, so here you were, hearing small cruses in low voice being said and a thud of hard-covered books. then you saw him come inside the kitchen bending his head to not hit the doors. he was fucking big, the apartament he was living in felt too small for him- that's what you thought.

he placed two thick history books on the table and sat next to you putting glasses in meantime, one of the earpiece visibly put together with silver tape. "so my girl, what you don't understand?" he gruffed looking at you, tilting his head a bit down.

you looked at the books stressed, and at him, you didn't think about what you wanted to learn or you didn't know- in your opinion you knew nothing. "well um..can we start from the beginning of the year professor?" you mumbled quietly, expecting him to scold you or grimace, though he only raised any eyebrow and chuckled after. "is it that bad?" he turned around on his chair to face you. "call me toji, i don't feel like a professor for a long time, alright honey?" a shiver went down your spine at his words, you faced him back, just as he did.

you didn't want to think anything of his nicknames, you knew lots of teachers and professors called their students nicknames so you treated it as his old habit, well at least you tried. "alright toji, so where do we start?" you asked, swallowing at how shamelessly he gazed over you. "you didn't come here to study, did you?" he huffed, moving in his chair closer to you, your thighs touching together. "last week i got two girls like you, just wanting for a hook up. you look like it too, not even prepared to study at all."

toji said more confidently, his hand got placed at the back of your back making you shudder. "h..huh.. sir please-" you uttered trying to pull away until he caught you fully in his grasp. "wanna call me like that in bed too honey?"

"ngh~ s..sir" you moaned softly feeling his length against your pussy lips. he was so massive. you tried to move but his hold on your arms stretching them back to him, your head falling in his shoulder.

he smirked looking down at your fucked up face, virgins were so easy to tease and toy with. "so i wasn't wrong. another university slut huh? rich brats."

he laughed breathy positioning himself at your entrance, your back arching. "thinking you will be the one fucking me. but it's me who do it." he leaned close to your face making eye contact. "open your mouth up bunny."

he whispered pushing his tip slowly inside of your tight cunny. you gasped, making a small "o" shape with your lips, letting toji to spit in your mouth. "swallow." he commanded and slid his cock inside of you, making him sigh in delight, from what he felt in this weeks, you were the tightest one, a virgin after all, he wondered if you even touched yourself.

you chiked on his spit swallowing, tears swelling up in your eyes, mascara started to be bit smug around your eyes. you felt the big stretch, his shaft feeling you up so good "no sir, sir si-" you whined loudly panicking and trying to catch your breath.

"shut.the.fuck.up." he groaned, letting go of your arms and putting his arm around your neck in a headlock, flexing biceps. his other hand going to your waist pushing you down on his dick, tip kissing your cervix making you whine loudly in pain, but also pleasure, you almost instantly gushed over his shaft creating a ring over his cock of your juices and his precum.

"so tiny and sensitive i barely got you on my dick." he growled leaning a bit over peeking at your tits, then his gaze shifted on your belly, he saw a light bulge where his cock was. oh how much he enjoyed it. "any last words before i ruin you honey?" he asked in a mockery caring tone, moving his hips minimally, making you gasp. "i guess no.." toji whispered in your ear and started rolling his hips, the fat, red tip hitting your poor cervix every time, when you moved your hands weakly up to hold on his forearm around your neck sobbing from the pleasure.

with every thrust he flexed his bicep so you get knocked out of air. without realizing you were cumming again, your little hole gasping, squeezing him so nice. after few huffs toji pulled out cumming. he sat down back on his chair pulling your weak body on his lap, he took off the used condom and put on another one. he was still hard.

you turned your gaze up to his face panting and then down on his cock. toji held your face with his hand squeezing ur cheek, making you look at him. "we are not done. at least me...

sweetheart."

[shooting-love-arrows]

could you write where darling wakes up and sees 1950s husband in the middle of his morning routine and finds out hes not as neat as they thought?

but instead of taking it badly they love him even more

Dear Anon,

Aww, that's heartwarming!

@shooting-love-arrows

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 and not so perfect morning

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied) Tw. angsty, hurt and comfort. A/N: I decided to take into consideration this question when writing this fic. So it is longer and about our dearest 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Squeeack…

You were awoken by the quiet and familiar sound of the bathroom door being open. It means only one thing: your dear husband was currently in the bathroom. Like every other day during this time around.

“Ugh…” A soundless groan of misery left your mouth. Unluckily you didn't sleep well that night. Your sleep was shallow and you couldn't seem to find a comfortable position. Not to mention you woke up to every sound you could hear. And just when you were slipping into a blissful dreamland, your bathroom doors decided to prevent you from slipping further. For now, you snuggled closer to your fluffy pillow. Your thoughts began to roam freely but at some point focused on something that has been bothering you for a while. 

It was confusing. 

At the very beginning of your marriage, you found it surprising. Not many people were that determined to wake up early in the morning. After a few months, you reasoned that it was just part of his personality. Perhaps a perfectionist problem? Part of his routine he didn’t want to stray from? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to pray. Your logic was that if he wants to share it with you, he’ll do so. But after months turned into years, with you still being left in the dark, you began to feel…doubt. 

“Why does he do that?” You wondered more than once. You had no idea what was the reason why your sweetheart got up before you, shuffled around the bathroom, only to come back to bed right before your alarm clock rang, like nothing ever happened. “What does he do there? Should I ask him? Does he want me to ask him? Maybe I should wait for him to tell me himself?”

So many questions, so little answers…

You sighed heavily. It looks like you won’t be able to catch some zzz’s anymore. You were too awake, especially with your mind running miles an hour.

“What a pity…” You rolled over your back and groggily opened your eyes. You blinked a few times to adjust your eyesight. The familiar white ceiling of your cozy bedroom greeted you like an old friend. Streams of warm sunlight were shyly peaking in the room from behind the gaps of the closed curtains. Everything stood still. It was peaceful. You let yourself sink into the soft bed and strained your ears to hear your husband shuffling in the bathroom. You wanted to say you were content but… “What a pity he isn’t here with me…”

You let your eyes slide over to the other side of the bed. It tugged on your heart that it was cold and empty with a messily thrown blanket and a pillow with a dent the size of your husband's head is what has greeted you. It was a let down. You wished he was there to greet you with his brilliant smile that seemed to light up the room, whisper to you a ‘good morning, my darling’ that always caused your heart to skip a beat and let you kiss his soft lips that perfectly molded with yours. This is what you needed to start a good day. 

Involuntarily you did a big and satisfying stretch. Your body felt heavy and begged you to stay in. Just lay down…under those fluffy blankets. Let yourself relax and wait for your dearest husband to climb back beside you. Wake up to him and cherish those kisses you'll share…

“I’m spoiled fella, aren’t I?”

There was no point in dwelling about such matters this early in the morning.

With a heavy sigh, you bravely fought those demons of laziness and decided to get up. You decided to invest this energy in something productive instead. And there’s so much to do around the house! 

“Hold on a moment…isn’t my husband in the bathroom?” Your mind went blank before you eagerly jumped out of your bed. You wouldn’t miss a chance to spend more time with the love of your life. 

You shuffled towards your bathroom, barely containing your happiness. So high on positive emotions and not expecting anything unusual, you didn’t even hesitate to open the door. 

Squeeack!

There was a beat of silence. Both of you froze for entirely different reasons. 

You stopped mid stride when entering the small space. Your jaw went slack when your eyes took a closer look at your husband. Your shoulder dropped and you took a deeper breath. His face was…bare. His glistening face seemed to be freshly washed since it was glowing in the warm light. He…he was mesmerizing. 

While you were too busy admiring the entirely new side of your husband you didn’t notice how 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 seemed to be feeling the exact opposite of you. His eyes widened till the white was showing around his irises and his stare didn’t dare to stray from you. His breathing quickened and his body began to fold, hoping to make himself smaller. 

This couldn’t be happening…it can’t be! How…why are you awake? Why are you here? You…fuck…you found him out!

“Swee — ”

“This can’t be happening…! You…no…how…?” You were cut off by your husband's quiet and wobbly muttering. Your eyebrows threw together and your body grew still. You were quick to note how your husband hid his face from you and was hunched over the sink. You heard just how heavy his breathing has become. Something was clearly wrong. 

“Sweetheart…?”

The reality around 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 became more vivid. His senses heightened to the point he was sure he could feel his surroundings. He was sinking so deep into his headspace he began to get lost there. Everything was becoming too much. His head, his thoughts and his feelings were ripping him apart. And the reason behind it was very valid. Whatever he has built around his person, whatever worth he had in your eyes and the control were gone with the swing of those blasted doors! 

“Dearest?”

He was falling apart. 

You flinched back (but only because you didn’t expect it) when he started laughing hysterically. Your concern for your husband only grew tenfold when you saw his state worsening by every second. You wanted to help him however you didn’t understand what could be the cause of this. Was it…you?

It turns out you didn’t have more time to analyze the situation, because you had to rush over when you saw your husband crumbling to the floor. Before his body could hit the ground at full force, you caught him safely in your arms. He was hyperventilating and you feared that he would pass out from the lack of air. His body was shaking badly and muttering things under his nose like a madman. Just like you did many times before in different scenarios, you tucked his head into the crook of your neck, laid your chin on top of his head, brought him safely into your arms to hold him tightly. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 closed his eyes, brought his knees close to his chest and circled his arms around them. He curled into a tight ball, slowly rocking back and forth in your arms. 

Sob…sob…sob…

But your heart broke when you heard the first sobs escaping his lips. 

You really wished you would know what to say or do in that situation. You wished you were more educated on that matter so you could be useful. You wished you could fulfill your role as his lifetime partner to him. Unfortunately, for now you had to rely on your instinct with a promise to be better and aid your husband in the time of need.

Starting now.

“Let it out love…let it out…” You whispered against his ear and started caressing his head. Sweet nothings began to pour out of your mouth soon after. Half of his curls were freed from the curlers and you carefully carded your fingers through them in a soothing motion. 

“Y…you…u…fo…fou…nd…out…!” He wailed in your neck after a while of intense crying. His voice held nothing but despair, pain and heartbreak. Not to mention he could barely speak with how violent his sobs were. You blinked rapidly, scrambling to understand what he meant by that. 

“What have I found out, dearest husband?” You lowered your voice.

“You…you…w…will…leave…leave…me!” He choked out those words like he didn’t hear your question. 

Your eyes widened when you heard this statement. How could he think you’ll leave him? What’s the reasoning behind this logic? Are you failing as a partner? Apparently so because otherwise, your husband shouldn’t be saying, nor even thinking, about such dark thoughts. 

Some moments passed before you opened your mouth again. 

“For better and for worse…for better, for worse…for richer, for poorer…in sickness and in health…until death do us part.” You whispered those sacred vows, engraved in your mind till the end of your time. You squeezed him tighter so your bodies were melting against each other. Your husband's eyes widened when he heard them, especially when laced with so much love and adoration just like during your wedding. His chest was heaving up and down, violent hiccups jolting his body. His face was flushed, fat tears pouring from his eyes and snot steadily coming down his nose.

He was at his worst, ugly and disgusting. And you…you dared to say those words? Why…?

“Be it whether you’re at your best, at your worst, when we’re young and when we’ll grow old, whether you wear your makeup or not. I am here for you.” You swallowed thickly and fought against your own tears. Your husband needs you and you won’t fail him ever again.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 processed your words before he let out another wail that echoed in the bathroom. You felt your husband latching onto your waist and clutching onto it tightly. He was afraid that if he won’t hold tight enough you’ll get up and leave him for good. He buried his face in your neck and continued to cry harder. He was reduced to a crying mess and shadow of the person he usually portrays himself as. 

“I will never cease to love you, the dearest love of my life.”

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[satxnsupreme666]

I almost lost you: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x fem!reader/ Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Masterlist

Requested by: @midnight-lestrange​

Summary: Agatha´s in love with you and you´re in love with her as well but she doesn’t know that, instead she thinks you have something with Wanda so Agatha stops talking to you, until you get severely injured.

This is a romantic!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader and Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

Words: 6k+

Warnings: Slight angst, minor mentions of blood and reader getting hurt, but happy ending (I love happy endings btw)

Author´s notes: Hi, this was a requested story, I do not know if I should tag the people who requested at the time, I want to be respectful, so I am not sure if I should tag them, I will try and do it since it was their request and their idea and if any of the people who requested back at the time now feel uncomfortable being tagged, please let me know and I will delete the tag.

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you like it! ♥️

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance  (If someone else wants to be added to the Taglist you can send me a message or an ask, it´s alright)

Wanda was around you all the time, she never left your side, there wasn’t a moment when you were alone, it was almost as if Wanda didn’t want Agnes or anyone else to get close to you, whenever you went, no matter where,  Wanda was there by your side, grabbing your hand or holding you closer to her, she was all the time with you and this bothered Agnes a lot.

It was even weird to see you alone for more than one minute, Wanda was always behind you, making sure no one got near you, not even Dottie and she found that really amusing.

However when it came to Wanda not letting her get near you was annoying, Agnes just wanted to talk to you and hold your hand, she didn’t expect to fall for you so quickly, but she couldn’t help it, you were so sweet, your smile could brighten any room and she loved how you used to move your hands when you talked about something you loved.

The first time Agnes met you had been one week after she arrived to Westview you had left Wanda´s house and she was surprised when she saw you, Agnes smiled at the memory.

“Hiya Honey” You heard someone greeting you so you turned yourself to look at the owner of the voice, and behind you was a woman with a bike and her long dark-brown hair was bright, you smiled back at her.

“Hi” You said feeling a little shy

“I´m Agnes darling, lovely to meet you” She said with a big smile and you blushed when she winked at you

“My name´s y/n”

“So, you´re my neighbor too, right? I saw you coming out from Wanda´s house darling, I didn’t know you lived with her” Her tone was cheerful and her happy mood was contagious

“Oh yes I live there with Wanda, have you met her already?” You asked her with a curious tone

“Of course, darling I met her a week ago, she even made a performance at the talent show days ago” You frowned, a week? That couldn’t be possible right? Maybe Wanda had changed the memories of the residents here to make them believe it had already passed a week, you couldn’t just believe it, or could it be true? Of course, Wanda told you everything when you woke up, she didn’t like hiding things from you and you felt happy because she didn’t erase your memories.

Agnes found really strange that she hadn’t seen you since she arrived and she had already entered Wanda´s house many times all this week and this was the first time she saw you, what else was Wanda hiding?

“Oh well that´s great, she´s really cool” You said trying to recall the past days, it was weird you felt like you had arrived here yesterday, you tried to brushed it off, it was really not important.

“Yes, darling she´s really cool” She squinted her eyes a little, as if she was analyzing you carefully

“So, tell me honey, where are you going to?”

“I was going to see the town, I just woke up… from a long nap” You were unsure of what you were saying, you didn’t see the frown on Agnes face, this was interesting for her.

“Well, in that case I can go with you to show you the town, would you like that sweetheart?” You thought about it for a minute, she looked like a good person, so you agreed, it would be alright, and you couldn’t deny, this woman was really charming and pretty.

“I would like that” With a big smile on your face you looked at her again, you were sure you could finally be happy in this town.

“Let me put this on my garden, then we can leave doll” Doll, you said the pet name in your head, no one had called you so many pet names like her, and you liked it, you felt your chest getting warm, it was nice.

She took her bike and she placed it inside her garden and then she winked at you again, of course you laughed, she was really sweet.

“Come on dear, let´s go” Agnes linked her arm with yours and she pulled you closer to her, she brushed your hand with her fingers and you blushed furiously, the only person you felt comfortable being so close to was Wanda but Agnes made you feel just as comfortable if not more. You could smell her perfume it was a mix of vanilla and something else you couldn’t put your finger on, her perfume was really sweet and you found yourself wanting more, would she always spread her perfume all over herself when she got out of her house? Or maybe in the morning she spread it once and the essence just stayed over her all day?

“So darling, how did you arrive here?” You hear her soft voice asking you and you turned your head to have a full view of her features, you felt as if her blue eyes pierced your soul, she looked at you as if she was analyzing your expression, and you tilted you head a little to the other side thinking on what to answer, Agnes looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to answer, she was a very patient woman, and she could wait all the time for you to answer.

“If I recall correctly” You brought your left hand to your mouth, it was something you used to do whenever you tried to focus on something, it was an unconscious thing you did.

“I arrived here with Wanda, she drove us from some offices in her car and the ride was pretty long, I just remember falling asleep and when I woke up I was in my bed” Agnes arched her eyebrow, feeling confused because of your answer, nodding her head she bit her lip, she needed more information to understand what was going on with you.

“That´s alright dear, when you wake up from really long nap, you can feel lost, it has happened to me, especially after a long night of partying” You laughed at the movements she made with her hands as if she was dancing and she moved her shoulder to brush it against yours.

You felt so carefree with her, she made you feel alive, it was a feeling you didn’t get to have, years ago with Wanda you could only pass your nights at the compound watching a movie or cooking, but still you felt trapped, but here with Agnes, you felt that you could do anything and you wouldn’t be judged.

“Oh, hi Dottie, I love your roses!” Looking at the person whom Agnes was talking to, you saw a woman with blonde hair working in her garden.

“Thank you, Agnes,” The woman, Dottie, said back and when Agnes turned her face to look at you, she rolled her eyes and she had a funny expression on her face, she made you giggle, she was really something else.

After ten minutes you finally arrived at what it looked it was the center of the town, there were children playing with each other and some adults were sitting in the lawn, some of them were having picnics with their children and you smiled, it was a really different view from what you had seen in the last years, your memory wandered back for seconds to your old life, you felt yourself getting a little sad, outside of all these amazing things you were enjoying, you didn’t know how everything was. Agnes noticed the change in your mood, she could sense your sadness and it was as if she felt a little of what you were feeling, Agnes wanted to drag your attention from whatever you were thinking, but she didn’t know where the urges to see you smile again came from.

“Hey sweety, do you like Ice cream?” Hearing her talking to you was enough to forget about the negative thoughts, and you felt grateful for that.

“Yes, I like Ice cream, do you like it?” Seeing you smile again made her feel better, she was not sure why, maybe it was because you had a really pretty smile.

“I love it doll, what about if we go to that ice cream shop, we can get to know each other better” Agnes took your hand and dragged you to the shop, you felt her soft touch in your hand and you felt you face heating, this woman made you blush a lot. Also, you really liked the way she grabbed your hand; she did it as gentle as possible as if you were about to break.

When you entered you decided you wanted a milkshake instead of just Ice cream, and Agnes was happy to order for you, after you told her your favorite flavor, she went to tell the girl attending what the two of you wanted and you just waited for Agnes to return in one of the booths there.

You were distracted by the surroundings, everything was really pretty and even though you found strange that some places where exactly as you had imagined sometimes, everything was beautiful, you remembered one day that you were discussing all the things you would love to visit with Wanda, and you remembered telling her about a place like this.

“A penny for your thoughts sweetheart?” She asked you while sitting herself next to you, you felt her leg brushing yours and you tried to hide your blush by resting your chin on your hand.

Agnes looked at you thoroughly, she knew you were hiding something, and she wanted to know what it was, but this was different, she wanted to know Wanda´s secret because of her immense powers, but with you it was different, she felt the necessity to know what was affecting you, she wanted to help you, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.

“Wanda used to rent movies and buy ice cream for movie nights” You muttered and if Agnes hadn’t been paying attention, she wouldn’t have heard you.

The waitress came with your orders and placed them in front of you, you said to her a barely audible thank you and you took a sip of your milkshake, it was really good, you loved it.

“We used to watch our favorite series; she loves old sitcoms you know?  and to be honest I kind of like them too” Agatha was looking your features and how you were playing with the straw, with your free hand you started to play with some strands of your hair, she could say you were talking more to yourself than to her, you were really in deep thought.

“I really liked when we passed time together, she has always been kind towards me but I feel something has changed, I´m not sure if things could go back as how they were” You were not sure what had changed but you felt something off.

Agnes felt bad for you, even if she didn’t know your entire story she felt empathetic, your pretty features looked sad again, and even if she wanted to do something, she didn’t know what to do, so she put her hand on your shoulder to give it a squeeze, unconsciously you leant your head into her hand.

“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice that made you sat straight

“Wanda?” You smiled, what was she doing here? she was supposed to be at home, but here she was, in front of Agnes and you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked and you noticed how Agnes didn’t take her hand off your shoulder

“I was worried, I thought you would come home earlier, you´re never outside more than just one hour” You could see her a little tense, you didn’t understand what was the problem

Agnes found the scene quite weird, why had Wanda come to look for you? She wasn’t your girlfriend to be looking for you just because you hadn’t arrived home yet, or were you?

“Hey Wanda sweetheart, you do not have to worry I took good care of her, right honey?” You saw Wanda relaxing a bit, it looked like Wanda trusted Agnes

“Agnes thank you seriously, I thought she had got lost”

You played with the straw in your milkshake until you decided to just drink it, you didn’t notice Agnes was staring at you. you were so sweet but the sadness in your eyes was the thing that she could see the most.

“Is that good?” Wanda had asked you with a grin on her face, she really liked that you were enjoying yourself, she had created a lot of things according to what she had seen inside your mind.

“Yes, is really good, it reminds me of the same milkshake you bought for me back in-

“New York?” Wanda finished your sentence and you smiled back at her.

“Remember that cafeteria we saw in the pictures of the souvenirs in Germany?” Agnes saw Wanda getting closer to you

“Yes! The one with the retro booths and the tables, even the lights were some kind of retro decorations, I loved it, wait” You gave a quick glance to the ice cream shop, it was exactly as you remembered the cafeteria in the pictures, Wanda saw your excitement and she knew you had discovered she had created this place for you.

Agnes seemed to notice that as well, she had put the pieces together, so Wanda hadn’t just created this place just for her, she had created this for you as well, and what she understood, was that Wanda had even decorated the place according to what you liked, for her Wanda had acted out of love, giving you all these things, she understood how much Wanda loved you, but in what sense? She wanted to know, but this time she didn’t want to act as the nosy neighbor, she really wanted to know what was going on with you two, but she didn’t dare to ask you straightforward.

“Did you have a good time with Agnes “Wanda suddenly asked, you didn’t understand why she asked you that, and Agnes frowned, why would she ask that in front of her?

“Oh yes, totally, she is really funny, I loved being here with her” You turned your head to smile at Agnes and she winked at you and this time Agnes brought her hand to brush a strand off your hair, she couldn’t help herself you looked so cute when you blushed, Wanda raised her eyebrows, surprised because of what Agnes had done and of course Agnes saw her expression.

“Hey Agnes you wouldn’t mind if I take y/n home?” You hastily looked at Wanda and of course Wanda saw your confused expression but decided to ignore your expression.

Agnes squinted her eyes, why would Wanda wanted to take y/n back to their house? You had told her you liked being here with her, but she decided she could let you go this time; you were not going anywhere so she would have the time to speak to you another day.

“Of course, I wouldn’t mind, we can meet up another day, right sweetheart?”

But you didn’t meet up with her again, that happened two weeks ago and since that day Wanda never left your side again, she remembered the day where she bumped into you “by accident” at the supermarket, she felt happy that day because you talked with her for about ten minutes.

“Agnes, what a surprise, are you here to buy some chocolate too?” You asked her biting your lower lip, what a great coincidence.

Of course it hadn’t been any type of coincidence, she had just followed Wanda and you, but she wasn’t going to let you know that, she was happy that you weren’t with Wanda for at least a couple of minutes.

“Oh no sweetheart, I came here to buy this” She pointed to a single bottle of wine that she was holding in her hand

“That’s great, I’m still thinking which type of chocolate I should choose, I really like that one” You pointed at a white chocolate bar, “But I also like that one too” You said while you took a normal chocolate bar, it was so hard to decide,  Agnes could watch you all the time, she could wait for you until you decided, she loved watching your expressions.

“Why not both?” She asked you while looking at the chocolates

Agnes was about to say something else but then Wanda came.

“Have you decided yet which one you want?” Wanda asked coming closer to you, she put her hand on your shoulder and that didn’t pass unnoticed to Agnes.

Seriously why Wanda kept interrupting you? As far as she knew Wanda was with Vision, then why didn´t she let you have a proper conversation with her?

You didn’t understand why Wanda really didn’t want you to talk to Agnes, she knew you liked her a lot.

For her part, Wanda was surprised, how was possible that you felt so comfortable with someone you had met just some weeks ago? She didn’t want you to get attached to someone who wasn’t even real at all, she didn’t want you to be heartbroken, she really hoped no one would ever come here to bother you or her, and she believed her magic was strong enough in order not to let anyone from outside enter without her knowing, but what if, just what if someone else broke into Westview and released all the inhabitants? She couldn’t even stand the thought of Agnes leaving the town and in consequence of that you would be left heartbroken, if that happen, she knew it would be her fault, she just didn’t want you to end up hurt, it would be better if you didn’t get too close to her.

Wanda thought Agnes was under her mind control and she thought Agnes was acting this way towards you because when she created the town she also was thinking that you could finally find someone who would love you and appreciate you, someone whom you could be happy with, but now that she thought about it carefully, if all of this didn’t work out, she didn’t want you to feel hurt because of her, but she couldn’t tell you to stop seeing Agnes, so she had to think of something else to do.

You had already passed through a lot of bad things, she didn’t want to add a heartbreak, years ago Wanda had rescued you from a Hydra base, they had experimented on you and when she looked at you Wanda instantly felt a connection with you, she could see herself in you, alone and with no one to look after her, since that day she decided she would be the one to help you recover, you would never be alone again, she was the closest thing to family, Wanda promised herself to look after you.

To you, Wanda was like a mom, she helped you understand your powers, she taught you how to use them but also, she taught you to trust again, with her help little by little you started to come out of your shell, she was happy that she could help you and of course she saw you as if you were her own daughter, she missed Pietro and she would always miss him, but with you by her side, she thought she could keep going, Wanda just wanted to protect you.

Agnes didn’t know any of this so her only theory was that you and Wanda were secretly dating, she felt hurt of course, Agnes wanted to have something with you but she thought that maybe you didn’t see her as just the friendly nosy neighbor, which to be honest she didn’t even like the role, at this point she wasn’t even interested in Wanda´s magic anymore, she could have left town but she decided to stay for you, but you didn’t even looked for her, she was conflicted, she had thought you had feelings for her, but looking at you here in the park with Wanda´s hand on your back, she realized you weren’t interested in her, so she stopped looking for you, she stopped visiting you at your house to give you little presents, she just focused her mind into getting to understand Wanda´s magic, after that she would just leave Westview.

You notice how Agnes started to ignore you, and you felt hurt, you felt heartbroken, what had happened? You didn’t understand, you thought things were going great between you and Agnes, you were aware that you didn’t talk a lot, but when you did, you felt happy with her and you thought she was happy too, sometimes when you wanted to go look for Agnes, something stopped you from going to look for her, like the time you were at the town center and you saw Agnes leaving the park, you wanted to go after her to greet her, but out of nowhere a bunch of people started to work on the street, you couldn’t leave the place because the men told you, no one was allowed to pass.

Or like that time when you were at the bookstore with Wanda and you saw Agnes walking down the street, you quickly went to the door to reach her but when you grabbed the doorknob you noticed it was stuck, you couldn’t open the door, even two teenagers that were hanging around the bookstore tried to open the door but they couldn’t, when you looked through the window to see if Agnes was still there, you didn’t see her and you pouted, it was as if something was preventing you to talk to her, it was really frustrating.

But now it was as if Agnes acted as if you didn’t exist, when she walked past your house and you were in the garden, she didn’t greet you anymore.

You were heartbroken, you didn’t know what to do, and you were afraid that if you tried to talk to her, she would just ignore you.

Wanda of course noticed the change in your mood, she felt guilty because she had caused this, and now she didn’t know how to fix it, Wanda hated to see you so sad, should she talk to Agnes? Or tell you the truth?

Wanda tried to think of what to do but at the same time she was dealing with the soldiers outside that were trying to enter Westview, she hadn’t told you any of this because she didn’t want you to add more things to your problems, she would have to deal with SWORD first. She had been trying to just ignore them but they kept sending the damned drones, and it was a matter of time for you to notice that there was something wrong.

It was late at night and you and Wanda were in your garden, you were watching the stars, how could this be something Wanda had created, it was really beautiful and even though you felt sad because of Agnes at the same time you felt at home, Wanda had told you that you would finally would have a place to call home.

The memory came to your mind and you smiled

“Listen, we will go home, alright? We will finally have a place to call home, but first I need you to go somewhere with me, and I need you to stay with me all the time alright?” You nodded at her and she dropped a kiss to your hair, she hugged you and you just leant into her, you trusted her with your heart.

“You won´t have to worry again, we will be a family” When she told you that she brought her hand to stroke your hair but when her fingers brushed your temple, you suddenly felt sleepy and you just fell asleep.

You felt tears at the corner of your eyes, Wanda had made sure to create all of this for you and for her, but still you felt something was missing, and that thing was Agnes, you really missed her a lot, she made you laugh, you felt safe with her and now she just ignored you.

You heard a sound as if something was coming towards you and when you looked in front of you, you saw there was a little airplane in the air, Wanda noticed it too and you saw her hands glowing red, you were not sure what was happening but you sensed that she was angry, really angry and with a movement of her hand the little airplane fell to the ground with a thud, the sound made you jump a little, what had just happened?

“I need you to stay here” Wanda´s voice was harsh, she was really angry but you didn’t know why

She took the airplane with one hand and lifted herself from the ground, leaving you there in the middle of the street, however you didn’t listen to her and followed her, since you had arrived here Wanda hadn’t used her ability to fly, so this was important, lucky for you, you could fly too, so you followed her from a good distance.

You saw her landing on Ellis avenue, she had told you not to come here many times, so it was weird, so you landed a few meters away from her

Wanda kept walking but you didn’t understand where she was going until you saw her passing through something, it was a magical field, you didn’t even know there was a field around town; Wanda easily passed through it and of course you followed her.

Now you were really close to the magical field and being this close was enough for you to see the small lines that looked like the screen of an old tv you were afraid because you didn’t know what was outside Westview, what had angered Wanda so much?

Taking a deep breath, you built the courage to pass through the field, you closed your eyes and when you were sure you were not inside Westview anymore you opened your eyes again.

You were not expecting hundreds of soldiers to be looking at you, it had been a complete mistake to walk through the magical field after all.

“I told you to stay inside!” Wanda´s accent was thicker and you could tell she was beyond pissed, so you just bit your lip, you could deal with her later.

“y/n?” Someone said your name and you lifted your head to see a woman with glasses, you had seen her before but you were not sure where.

“So, your little protégé has been here with you all this time? Do you know how many times we have been looking for you? Did you help her to trap all these people here?” This time it was an old man who held a smirk on his face

“Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this, leave her out of this, you came for me, not for her” The man laughed and he moved his hand it was a sign for all the soldiers to point their guns at you, now you were afraid, this had been a huge mistake.

Wanda used her powers to make them point their guns towards the man

“Wanda no! He´s just trying to provoke you, you´re not the villain” A woman walked towards Wanda a little, she was brave enough to do that, you were impressed.

You heard a sound, it was the sound of someone chambering a gun, you hastily looked where was the sound coming from and when you saw a soldier from far away pointing his gun to Wanda ready to pull the trigger you instantly used your powers, blue glowing from your eyes and hands, you lifted him In the air and threw him into some trees, the sudden sound distracted Wanda and she looked at you but that was enough for the man to grab the gun of the nearest soldier and he pulled the trigger, the bullet was going to hit Wanda right In her chest, you used your powers to push her to the ground and luckily the bullet didn’t hit her but this time you didn’t see him pointing at you, he pulled the trigger and you felt a sharp pain in your chest, everything happened so fast, the pain was unbearable, you felt like you were about to faint but Wanda grabbed you and with her free hand she threw the soldiers to the ground.

She lifted you in her arms and took you inside Westview again, she couldn’t believe you had just been hit by a bullet, she had wanted to kill the soldiers but she had to act quickly.

Agnes heard a lot of noise so she left her house and what she saw, horrified her, Wanda left you on the grass of your garden you had blood in your clothes and Wanda had blood in her hands.

“What happened?” Agnes was so worried, she couldn’t believe Wanda had let you get hurt, at the sound of her voice you lifted your head a little and you smiled, she had come to see you

“Agnes?” You said between coughs, the pain was awful.

Wanda tried to use her powers to take the bullet out of your body but it was hard, she couldn’t do it, her hands were shaking and she couldn’t think straight, you were bleeding and her powers were not working, she cursed and yelled, she couldn’t heal you.

Agnes was desperate she had to try something.

“Move Wanda” Wanda looked at her with a confused look what was she thinking? Wanda was about to say something but Agnes moved her hands and purple smoke emanated from her, the red haired woman was shocked, she was a witch?

Agnes knelt beside you and she covered your chest with her hands, Wanda saw her fingers moving and heard Agnes chanting something in a strange language, by this point Agnes was crying, tears were streaming from her eyes and Wanda was trying to process everything.

Suddenly the blood stopped coming from the wound you had and when Agnes moved her hands off you, there was no trace of any wound, any scar, you had fainted but at least you were alive.

“She´s alright now, she will need some time to rest” Wanda heard the woman and she nodded

“Who are you?”

“My name´s Agatha Harkness and we have a lot to talk, but not now” Wanda felt grateful, she had saved your life, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

 When you woke up two days later, you gasped, what had happened? You weren’t dead?

“Be careful dear” It was Agnes´ voice and you quickly turned your head to look at her, she was sitting in a chair beside your bed.

“Am I dead?” Agnes laughed a little and she shook her head.

“What happened?” You remembered feeling a sharp pain and you touched your chest, there was nothing there

“You were shot sweetheart” Agnes ‘voice broke, she was trembling and you couldn’t understand why, Agnes brough her hands to your face and she stroked your cheek, you loved her touch

“I thought you were going to die, I almost lost you, I thought I would never see you again, I was scared, I couldn’t stand the thought of you dying, I love you so much” Your eyes widened and you felt genuine happiness, she loved you the same, you couldn’t stand it anymore and you kissed her.

You felt one of her hands hugging your waist, she had a strong grip around you and her free hand touched your face, she brushed her fingers softly against the skin of your cheek.

You broke the kiss and smiled at her, finally you felt you were complete, she was what you needed the most.

“I love you too Agnes” She bit her lip, she had to tell you the truth, she closed her eyes, she didn’t know how you were going to react

“Doll, listen, my name´s not Agnes, my real name is Agatha Harkness and I´m a witch, I stopped the bleeding thanks to my dark magic, but I really love you, and I´m sorry I started to ignore you, I thought you were with Wanda and-” A laughed made her open her eyes again, you were laughing at her, but how could she have thought you were with Wanda?

“Why did you think I was with Wanda? She´s like a mom to me” You gave her a soft peck on her lips and she happily received it.

“It doesn’t matter now, because now I know you love me just as much as I do, also you do not have to worry, I really like your real name, and thank you so much for saving me, I´m pretty sure Wanda is grateful too” You hugged her again and you rested your head in her shoulder, she already had talked to Wanda, Agatha explained everything to her and Wanda did the same, Wanda was really grateful, she didn’t know what would have happened if she had lost you, and Agatha felt the same, you were her entire world, she wouldn’t lose you, and she wouldn’t ignore you again.

“I promise you, I won´t leave your side, I will protect you too and I won´t ever ignore you again, I feel so bad for that doll”

“It´s alright, you don´t have to blame yourself, now we can start again, this time we will make sure to avoid misunderstandings, ok?” Agatha sighed and nodded she looked at you with so much love in her eyes

“I love your eyes they´re so pretty you know?” She leant to kiss you again and when she pressed her lips to yours, the door of you room was opened, again Wanda had interrupted you but this time Wanda smiled, she knew Agatha was the right person for you, she was sure of it.

“I just came here to see if you were already awake, we still have to talk y/n, but for now I will just let you enjoy your time with Agatha” With that said she left your room, with the door opened, of course she did that.

You tilted your head to look at Agatha´s face, you were really in love with her.

“I love you so much y/n, I won´t leave you” You were sure she wouldn’t do it; you could feel the love she felt for you.

“Do you want to go downstair for something to eat? I´m hungry, I could make something for the two of us” Agatha nodded and stood from her chair she stretched her hand out for you to take it and you eagerly took it, this was good, now you were starting a new chapter and she was the missing piece, finally you felt happy, this was the family you had wanted.

[firelilyfox]

Choose Your Next Words Carefully

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment (assault) / cursing / angst / blood

Words: 2k

Summary: Paul & you were childhood friends but suddenly he distanced from you. On a night full of celebration you get into trouble & Paul protects you … but what happened two years ago?

______________________

Caladan looked even more beautiful at night. 

You are watching the peaceful waves collapsing under the balcony you are standing on. Behind the whole castle is celebrating another victory against the Harkonnen. A soft breeze lets the fabric of your dress flow in the wind and you take a deep breath of the salty air. 

It wasn’t your wish to be here tonight, but your father insisted that you would watch him getting honored for his work for Duke Leto. And you did. But when the duke’s son joined the celebration, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. 

You and Paul Atreides had a very … complicated past. 

As long as you could remember you had a crush on him and he knew it all along. When the two of you were younger, you would play everyday and make mischief all around the castle. But suddenly you barley saw him once a week and Paul acted kinda cold around you. Once you wanted to talk to him about his weird behavior, he just laughed at you and made fun of you for having a crush on him. Everybody around could hear him laughing and began to pity you for being so naive. 

The daughter of a soldier would never be good enough for a future Duke. 

You never spoke to Paul again. This was two years ago, but every time you see him at big events, your heart tightens and you become overwhelmed with sadness and anger. How could he do something like that to you? Even if he never had felt the same for you as you did for him … friends don’t hurt each other like that. 

„What are you doing out here?“, a voice asked behind you. When you turned around you saw a man standing there, looking at you with a drunk smile. It was a friend of your father. A soldier, just like him. 

„Just catching some fresh air“, you said. 

The man comes closer to you, stumbling over his own feet. His wrinkly face showed many scars from battle in the past. „It is dangerous … for a young Lady … out here.“ 

He leans towards you, but you duck away from him. „Uh.. thanks for the heads up. I will go inside … where its safer.“ 

As you turn your back again, you can hear him mumbling something about find me later, but you don’t want to keep listening to this creepy guy.  

Quickly your feet carrying you inside the great hall, where most of the people are dancing and drinking. You couldn’t see your father anywhere because you are shorter than most of the men and women here. So you decide to get on one of the stone benches to get a better view from up there. 

„These things are meant to sit on, you know?“ 

Green eyes. A crooked grin. Freckles. 

„What do you know, Atreides? Shouldn’t your royal ass be sitting on a throne or something?“

Paul chuckles. „Sassy as always. Some things never change, hm?“ 

You rolled your eyes and went back to keep on looking for your father, so you could finally leave this goddamn party. That’s when Paul joined you on the bench. 

„What are we looking for?“, he asked amused. 

You’re frowning at him. „WE are not looking for anything. I am looking for my father. And YOU should leave me alone, Atreides.“ 

Paul looks confused. „Have you forgotten my first name? It’s Paul, you know?“ He smiled again and you catch yourself almost smiling at his dumb joke. But you manage to pull yourself together before that happens. It almost felt like when you were kids. 

„Fuck off, Paul.“ You jump from the bench and trying to make a way through the crowd of drunk, dancing people. Paul follows you. 

„You tell your future Duke to fuck off? Hah! You are as brave as I remember“, he says laughing. Before you could respond anything, Paul grabs your wrist and turns you around. His other hand holding your waist and you find yourself pressed against him. The high difference forces you to look up at him. 

„What are you doing?“, you stutter. 

A smirk appears on his face, as if he know how much impact his presence has on you. „I’m dancing with you. I mean we are on the dance floor.“ 

For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. The pressure of his hand on your lower back, his chest moving against yours. Your fingers on his bicep. Hands holding each other. This was something you always dreamed about. Your heart begins to pound like crazy. His smile faded and his gaze softened. Now he looks at you like you are the only thing that is existent. Time moves slower. Noise faded. Only you and him. 

Paul leans his forehead against yours, closings his eyes and he takes a deep breath. The moment was intimate and all you wished for at some point … but it felt wrong. 

„What has gotten into you tonight?“ You pushed him away. A hurt expression crossed his face and you almost felt bad. „Two years, Paul. Two years and now this?“ 

Without waiting for a stupid response you took off and managed to find a way through the crowd out in the hallways. Tears filled your eyes, but you are to stubborn to let them run down your face, exposing your hurt feelings. 

Desperate for some privacy you opened a small door and find an empty room with sofas. The perfect hiding spot until you’ll be able to shove down your feelings again. 

„I see. The Lady found me.“ 

A high pinched scream escaped your throat as you were grabbed roughly by the shoulders and got pushed down on one of the sofas. Your head slammed against something hard and you feel warm blood running down your cheek. 

The man from the balcony holds you down with a big smile on his face. His gaze is hidden in shadows but you recognize him. 

„Let me go! My father will behead you with his own hands!“ You scream at him, trying to get away but against his heavy body you have no chance. 

He was not listening and even if he was, he seemed not to care. The man took one hand of your shoulder to grab you by the neck to choke you and the other hand loosened up his pants. 

„No. No please. No“, you beg for him to stop. 

„Not so bratty anymore, hm? I shall teach you a lesson you little slut! I will…“ 

But his words came to stop. Slowly you opened your eyes again, as his grip around your neck got loose again. You could see a knife at his throat, forcing him to stop and not move a muscle. The hand, that was holding the knife belonged to … Paul. 

He was standing behind the man. His eyes dark and full of rage. The knife scratching the skin and making the old man bleed a little bit. 

The old guy shouted in anger. „Whoever dares to interrupt me will be punished!“ 

Paul chuckled dangerously silent and forced the man to turn around to look at him. His eyes widened in shock. „My Lord“, he whispered. „I didn’t know that you own this whore … I mean I …“ 

„If I were you“, Paul interrupted him with a deadly glance. „I would choose my next words very carefully.“ 

Paul lays more pressure on the knife and it’s cutting deeper into his skin. The man began to whimper. Before the damage would be irreversible, Paul pushed him to the ground. 

„I won’t wash my hands in your blood.“ As if he had given a silent sign, two guards came in to drag the man outside. „These guys will handle that.“ 

You look at Pauls back. He was standing there like a true leader. Like the man he became. He was not a child anymore … and neither were you. 

As the door closes again he dropped the knife and turned around to you. Faster than lighting he got down on one knee to met your eyes at the same hight. His hands cupping your face and he wipes your tears away that mixed up with the blood. 

„Does it hurt badly?“, he asked with a soft voice. The contrast to his fearless and deadly side couldn’t be any bigger. 

You shake your head. „No it’s fine.“ 

„He will be beheaded in the morning. You don’t have to worry about seeing him ever again.“ Paul tries to calm you down. His eyes holding your own captured and you weren’t able to look away. 

„Thanks. I mean …“, you shake your head again getting rid of his hands. „I should go now.“ 

You stand up and opening the door. Paul is standing right behind you, pushing the door shut again. His hand were right next to your head but you refuse tu turn around right away. 

„Please let me explain“, he whispered. Paul was so close, that you could feel his breath on your skin. You sigh but still refuse to turn around to look at him. 

„There is nothing to explain. I know everything that I need to know.“ 

„You asked me what has gotten into me tonight.“ 

You stay silent. 

Paul sighted. „My father told me that I don’t have to be married to be the next Duke.“

Confusion brings you to look over your shoulder and met his sad green eyes. The honesty in them lets you turn around. „What does that have to do with me?“ 

He smiled but it looked so sad and broken. „Everything. I … i stayed away from you on purpose, y/n.“ 

„What do you mean?“ 

„The day you told me, that you … you had feelings for me, was the same day my father told me to that I have to marry Princess Irulan in the future. I was so mad at him because I already lost my heart to someone and I … but he said that it had to be this way.“ 

„So you let out your anger about your father out on me?“, you asked angrily. 

Paul shakes his head. „No. I just thought … if you would hate me … then it would be easier for me to stay away from you.“ 

Suddenly all fell right into place. His behavior on that day two years ago made much more sense … he was cold and distant but… 

You punched him on the arm. „That still don’t give you the permission to act like an asshole!“ 

Paul smiled and nodded apologetically. „You are right but I was young and not so smart like I thought I wished to be.“ 

A moment of silence fell over the two of you. Just the eyes spoke louder than a voice could ever manage to do. 

„So … you lost your heart to someone else than your reflection in the mirror?“, you joked. 

„God I missed your sassy mouth so much!“ Paul laughed and it was the first real laughter you heard from him for such a long time. „Yeah i did. Even if my reflection is pretty stunning … nothing compares to the girl that I lost my heart and soul to.“ 

Paul gently laid his hand on your cheek making sure you keep on looking into his eyes before  he kept on talking. „I always loved you, y/n. Of course I did! How could I not love you?“ 

Tears start to fill your eyes again … but this time for a good reason. 

„You are still an asshole for behaving like that, Atreides.“ 

His smile melted your heart away. „Will you forgive me?“ 

You nod. 

Paul slowly leans towards you and when his lips met yours, there where nothing else to say. 

[rubyvhs]

remedy (i) — sam winchester

series masterlist

summary: you meet jessica’s friend group that she’s talked so much about and one person who’s she’s never talked about — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!reader, smoking, cursing.

You’re a lot of things but weak isn’t one of them. Okay maybe just a little. You’re only slightly weak when it comes to Jess’s pout, her ‘please, c’mon’ and those green eyes— okay so only a little corruptible, but it means nothing.

It means nothing that you’re now standing alone at a party where you hardly know anyone and you feel like sleeping outside on the open road might be more entertaining. Not just any party too— one of the biggest parties, Lily Carson’s birthday. 

Basically anyone who looked her way was invited, birthday presents were plethora but not required and you wish you could say that she’s a bitch to everyone, but really, she’s one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. Which is why you started gaping at Jess when she suggested (begged) for you both to go. You don’t know Lily personally but she’s popular, obviously, and she invited Jess so why shouldn’t you come?

“C’mon, girl,” Jess starts as she comes back from a round of beer pong, “you can’t stay rooted in the same place the whole time, that’s not why I made you come.” 

Why she brought you at all was the question. What were you doing here other than being awkward? You haven’t even seen Lily the whole night and she’s the birthday girl. Jess is way more of a party girl than you are, she’ll attend each one and somehow keep her grades up but it isn’t even that. You don’t hate coming, you just don’t prefer it. Too many people more often than not cause overstimulation, crying and too many emotions. You’d rather steer clear.

“I didn’t want to come.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” You knew all her friends, who would be new? Oh, probably people who aren’t majoring in med school. You met Jessica at lunch in your first year, she asked if you had company, you shook your head, she sat down, and the rest is history. 

You had plenty of friends from your major but none from outside so someone from law was quite thrilling since you’re not usually one to make friends easily unless you connect through school first. 

But throughout the past two years you’ve known her she’d usually hang out with your friends, she knew them all anyways, than you would go see hers. Now it’s different though, you don’t know of many people in your class that would go to a party on a Tuesday night so you’re sure you don’t know anyone here— well, until now.

Jess drags you to a different room. Fifteen, if not more, people are sitting in a circle— or something resembling it. Some of them on the floor, the couch, the tables with the booze. “Guys, here she is!” She introduces you with a big smile and most of them look up to wave at you. 

You want to say what catches your attention are the cute guys (there’s quite a lot) but it’s how freaking pretty these girls look. Like Jess. God, everytime you decide to leave your house your insecurities grow double their size. 

She starts pointing at her friends for you, “This is Emmy, Mary, Gen—” And it’s a damn long list. Longer than it should be, but you try to keep the ones you care about in the back of your head: Gen, Brady, Stella. No one really caught your attention the way those three have, they look like they’re more your style, laid back, on their phones, talking to Jess like they’re closer to her than the rest of the group. 

You sit between Gen and Jess on the beige couch, Brady and his girlfriend (?) at the foot of it, his hand around her shoulders. “Spin the bottle?” Someone from somewhere in the room says and you sigh. Yeah, this is why you don’t go to parties. The alcohol (which you don’t drink), the games (that you don’t play) and the making out everywhere. 

You grew up pretty reserved before you came to Stanford so you haven’t even had your first kiss, you haven’t smelled alcohol and you most definitely haven’t seen parties this big. 

“Brady?” Someone from the doorway shouts which makes most of us look up at— this person. Who isn’t real. I’m imagining him. “Hey, Jess, Gen,” he acknowledges both people I’m sitting between. Does that mean he’s real? No, no, just a figment of my imagination. He says my name next. A small nod. 

Kill me. Kill me now. How does he know who you am? You want to smile and greet him back but you feel like your body is just gone. Thankfully, he leaves your direct vision after slapping Brady’s shoulder, sitting opposite you on the couch next to a couple on another one. You look over at Jess with wide eyes.

“What just happened?”

“I should be asking,” she sighs, “you see one cute guy and turn mute.” Another thing about reserved upbringings? Never even had a boyfriend. Or seen cute guys.

“Cute?” You exhilarate aggressively, “Jess I would kill myself if I was him. He’s too beautiful for other people to see.” Her eyes widen and she leans forward. You’re already talking into each other’s ear at this point since everyone abandoned the ‘spin the bottle comment’ ever since this guy came in. “What’s his name?”

“I literally just said it when he said hi to you, which by the way, you’re so freaking rude! You didn’t even nod when I introduced you.”

“His name, whore.”

“Sam, slut.” You nod once and lean your back completely against the couch. You try so so hard not to look at him, he’s right in front of you at this angle, if you could just— he’s looking at you. In you. 

He smiles when you hold eye contact and you, like the dumb bitch Jess argues you are, look away quickly. Gen tells some stupid story about something that doesn’t matter to you no matter how hard you try but she’s so cute that you try your best to focus. His green eyes. Were they green? Not as green as Jess’s but they were green under this low light. His Long hair. Those shoulders.

Someone (the same guys who said ‘spin the bottle’?) suggests that you dip and almost everyone in the room agrees. You leave the party with about nine people, which, woah, too many human beings in one place. You see Lily on the way out, wish her a happy birthday, then run back to the group who’s getting two cars. 

You ubered here, not really sure what to expect or if you would be able to park somewhere safe, so you look at Jess with a frown. “What’s happening?”

“We’re going to McDonald’s. You wanna get in Sam’s or in Brady’s car?” 

“Neither, I could uber.” And even as you say it you feel a presence behind you, hovering. Jess is looking at him, but you’re sure if you look anywhere near his face you won’t be able to process the words out of his mouth.

“C’mon,” he draws out your name a little and you’re forced to look up when he stands next to the both of you, getting a cloud of his perfect cologne, “it’s safer this way, since we’re all together. Jess is coming with me, you should too.”

You nod once. Like before, nothing is going on in your head. God, screw this. How can you be so bad at talking to human beings when you're supposed to treat them for a living? 

“By the way, I haven’t seen you around, you’re law?”

You shake your head, taking a small step back that’s barely noticeable but allows you to breathe a little better. His eyes are brown and green. Is that possible? 

“Med. you’re pre-law?” He nods with a smile, putting a hand on Jess’s shoulder to drag her to the car and you follow along.

It isn’t even a tight fit since unlike half of the student population, Sam drives an SUV. You’re in the back with Jess and Gen, some guy who’s name you forgot is with Sam. He’s about to plug his phone in when Jess snatches it from him, “Nuh-uh, Sammy. You promised I can have it next time.” Next time? How many times has Jess been in Sam’s car? Are they together? No, can’t be, you two were just talking about him. 

But she did roll her eyes. Is it because they’re together? “Jess, I swear if I hear any Taylor Swift—”

Jess? And Taylor swift? What kind of joke is that?

“Shut up and drive, Sammy, nearest Mac is still ten minutes away.” But she says it like she’s glad. You and Gen look over her shoulder to choose songs with her, you decide on casual playlists everyone will like and both girls are calm enough to carpool all the way, meanwhile you’re texting your little sister that you’re out with friends so she can know where you are.

Okay, so maybe you listen to murder mystery podcasts too much— sue you for wanting to stay safe. You’ve occasionally gone out where boys were involved and so getting in their car was inevitable but most were nice enough to get into your own if you asked, just helped calm you down way more if you’re the one driving. 

You arrive and everyone’s out of the car, you’re the last one out when you notice Sam's not moving. The car’s parked, isn’t he coming inside?

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re speaking to him. “Sam, you coming?”

He looks back at you with that smile of his, that seemingly never leaves his face. “Yeah, just—” and he seems a little hesitant before he opens his armrest. This is it. You pissed off the wrong serial killer who looks nothing above twenty two. 

He takes out a pack of cigarettes and you let out a breath of relief. “I don’t like encouraging them and all that. I’ll finish up quickly and come inside.” You agree but don’t make a move out of the car, even if you do look away from him. “Do you? Smoke?” You nod a little but shrug right after so you confuse him more than yourself. 

You haven’t in a while, a few months, maybe. They’re expensive and money’s tight more often than not. Your parents send over as much as they can, which means you’re doing better than most of the people in school, but you try to be responsible so you’d only do it if someone offers one. A disposable, a cigarette, whatever they had.

“Come up.” It makes a smile stretch on your face as you get out of the car to get in the passenger's seat. “Pull it back. The seat.” You do and it puts you in a way more comfortable position. 

“Chad was just makin’ sure Gen was comfortable,” because she was sitting behind him, “how come I’ve never seen you with Jess before?”

“Oh, we don’t— or I don’t go out often. I don't go to parties and stuff like that ‘cause it’s,” God curse whoever invented oversharing, “yeah, anyways, I don’t do parties. I came ‘cause Jess promised brunch tomorrow if I come.”

“Brunch?” He asks with a small laugh, like it’s a ridiculous offer. 

You shrug, watch him take a cigarette out of the pack and pats himself down for a lighter then— “oh shit.”

Life is in your favor today because you’re grinning as you take out your own lighter. You usually keep it on you for aesthetic purposes, but times like these, they’re really handy. “Lighter?”

He looks over and nods, puts the cigarette between his teeth, his eyes meeting yours intensely. You could’ve lighted it up while it was between his fingers, you’re in the car, there’s no wind. But that doesn’t seem to be his point of view because he leans in and you do too, lining the lighter up, checking hastily so you can get back to staring into those oh so gorgeous eyes. With so many colors. 

The cigarette lights and he takes a pornaghraphic drag, arching his back a little to get comfortable and it almost makes you pass out. He repeats his earlier ridicule.

“Yeah, brunch,” You shrug a little, moving to face him more. You notice his phone is connected and playing music though it’s very low, “She’s paying so it’s basically a free meal for the week.” He chuckles through another drag and shakes his head.

“That’s true.” He offers the cigarette and you take a beat. Okay maybe a little more because he checks in, “It’s blueberry.” And it’s a ridiculous thing to say, he notices and shrugs. “Jess was the  one who bought it for me, my birthday was a week ago.”

“Oh, happy birthday, then.” He acknowledges your words as you take the cigarette between your own fingers to bring to your lips. You’ve shared smoking with other people, a whole car of people smoking the same thing— nothing new— but just the two of you? Sitting in the car with the low music… something is different. “How are exams— LSAT mocks are soon, right?” And if it’s the dumbest thing you could’ve said, he doesn’t mention it.

“Yeah, next week. They’re just mocks but I think they’re counting them as the finals.” You nod, not really understanding. Med school was way different than… this. Way way different. But you tried to be mindful of all the majors just so you could be able to open conversations with other people.

“That’s nice, must be stressful.” You wish you could say you’re usually better at conversations with strangers but unfortunately you’ve always found comfort in speaking about school whenever you don’t know the person in front of you. Really really lame when you’re talking to a guy you like.

You hand the cigarette back, “Shouldn’t we go back inside?” You ask quickly, wanting to leave.

He takes a breath, “I— uh, I gotta finish this first.”

“Why?”

“Emmy’s trying to quit. ‘S why she rode with Brady, he doesn’t smoke and she’s having a hard time.” Oh. That’s generous.

“You’re close with Emmy?” You take a beat before asking the real question that’s been on your mind, “and jess?”

He taps the cigarette out the window then look over at you with a small line between his brows. Just as you were about to backtrack. Not your business, you’re sorry, anything— “Not really. But I’ve known everyone since freshmen year and they're my friends so I try to be considerate. And I think what Emmy’s doing is good.”

For a second you think that’s that and are about to tell him that’s nice, maybe compliment him and then run out of the car but he smiles a little then adds, “Me and Jess are just friends too. Dated in my sophomore year for a few months, that’s it.” 

Oh. That’s good to know, you suppose. Not that it matters or whatever. He hands you the cigarette again and you steal at his eyes, trained on yours, before you take it from between his fingers, your hand slipping against his. You mutter a slow apology. He responds with a warm smile. “What about you? Boyfriend?”

That’s the question of the year. “No, no boyfriend.”

“And this group?” He nods over to the Mac you’re parked in front of. “You know any of them?”

“Except Jess, no. Just met everyone today, a lot of people.”

“So most of the people you know are from Med?” You nod. “You know Lana?” 

“Yeah, do you?” 

“Yeah, Lana’s an old friend, she got me into Stanford,” that earns a frown from you and he explains further, “helped me choose where I wanted to go since I didn’t have lots of options. I needed to get somewhere on a full scholarship. Said Stanford offers the most scholarships so I applied.”

“Woah, you’re here on a full scholarship? Really?” You see his proud nod, and it’s too damn cute. “That’s incredible, Sam.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Your phone pings and you thank god because opening a new conversation would be the end of you. You want to talk with him, and he obviously doesn’t mind your company if he’s opening topics but— it’s scary. And awkward. Though the latter is because of you. 

You see a text from Jess asking where you are, another from your sister to ask who you’re with, and a last one from one of the PA’s for your anatomy class. 

“You okay?” You nod quickly and open the one from your PA to make sure nothing was wrong but— hey, give me a call when you’re free, we need to discuss your last exam.

“Fucking anatomy.” You groan, shutting your phone off. You look up and notice Sam’s raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Anatomy 108?”

“Yeah?” In Med you take the same course four times throughout the school year. The first time you take it it’s called 101, then 102, then 104 and 108. It’s something you wouldn’t know unless you take Med or are interested enough to ask because it’s hard to explain in detail. 

“You’re— you’re taking anatomy? You’re a sophomore?” Oh. Oh shit. Yeah you’re a sophomore, shit shit. 

You can’t lie here, one, because he’d know, two, because you only take anatomy in your second and last year, and you damn well don’t look like you’re in your last. “That makes you, what, eighteen?”

God you wish, at least it wouldn’t kill you. You quickly hand him his cigarette before you break the news, “I’m seventeen.” His face drops and he sits up a little straighter, no longer as playful as he was before. 

So what if Sam’s possibly twenty-two? You’re only a few years younger, and he’s so gorgeous it wouldn’t really be that wrong to do something. Couldn’t you have pretended to be eighteen? Who said honesty is the best policy? Fuck them, man.

“Sam?” You ask when he’s been quiet for too long, even if only a couple of seconds that the music fills. “You okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He shuts the car’s engine off and raises the windows, “let’s go,” once you’re out of the car he throws his cigarette onto the ground and takes out a packet of gum, then hands you one too. You take it with a smile.

You spot everyone pretty quickly, Gen, Jess and Emmy, the only girls you remember, are sitting on a booth so you head there and the whole way you’re getting looks from jess that you try to ignore. 

You wish it could be like that. And maybe it would’ve been. Maybe he would’ve kissed you or asked for your number or something if you’d kept quiet. 

part two; and all my life, I’ve been wanting this forever.

title from: static by alice shone.

main masterlist

if u wanna be tagged comment + hope u enjoyed!

[420days]

Can you make a story on the hall of fame jey uso story but can you make to how they met if that makes sense

HOW THEY MET | JEY USO

If you read my “Hall of Fame” imagine this is the backstory of how they met. I actually liked this idea a lot and might do a mini series on Jey and Brianna… excuse any errors or mistakes and enjoyyyyy

-

“I plan on making this course easy for everyone as long as you show up." Brianna listened to her new professor lecture in the front of the classroom. It was the first day of her sophomore year in college and she was just getting adjusted into her classes..

"Now, I know everyone hates doing this but let's just go around the room say your name, major, and a fun fact about yourself." The professor spoke, earning a round of sighs from the students.

"Yeah yeah, let's start in the front." He pointed towards a random student.

The students went around the room and introduced themselves. Brianna felt herself become nervous as it got closer to being her turn. As she went to speak a student busted into the classroom, out of breath, and made his way to the back row where she was sitting.

"My bad professor, you know your damn class is all the way up here. It took me a good ten minutes to get to this side of the school." The brown eyed boy smiled as he took the seat between Brianna and another boy in the class.

"Jey, I except nothing less than for you to get lost on the first day despite this being your fourth time in one of my classes." The professor shook his head, marking everyone laugh.

“Nah, you need to talk to them about that cause why is your class all the way up here?” He scrunched his face up only to be interrupted.

"Sit down and let the girl talk!” Kenya, the girl that sat in front of Brianna mugged him.

"My bad." He turned his attention towards Brianna as she began to speak.

"That’s okay, my name is Brianna. I'm a sports management major and I play on the volleyball team here." She spoke, earning a big smile from Keyna.

"Me too! Were you on the team last year?" Kenya turns around to face her.

"Oh no, I just transferred here this year." Brianna shook her head as she leaned back in her chair to look at her.

"Ohhh okay, cause I didnt remember seeing you last year but my ass don't be paying attention." Kenya nodded her head.

As the two spoke Jey took the time to take in Brianna's appearance. She was dressed velour baby pink sweat suit and a pair of white forces. Her sweater was unzipped just enough to show the white tank top and layered gold necklaces.

Brianna was a beautiful petite girl with round hips, golden skin, thick thighs, and a flat stomach. Her face was rounded and complimented with her glossy pouted lips, wide almond shaped eyes, and splattered beauty marks.

"No, this is my first year on the team." Brianna shook her head and then stop talking so the next person could share.

The professor spent the next thirty minutes going over the syllabus before he decided to let the class go early. It was the first day of classes and he would wait until next week to jump into the course material.

When the class was dismissed Brianna grabbed her white crossbody purse and made her way towards the door only for her name to be called.

"Oh hey, Kenya." She turned around with a small smile on her face once she saw it was the girl sitting in front of her.

"Hey, I was wondering if you wanna exchange numbers and stuff so I can show you around!”

“Sure, I would appreciate that.” Brianna nodded, pulling out her phone so she could beige Kenya her number.

"Cool, I'll see you at practice next week?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then!”

-

1 WEEK LATER

"Bri! Hey boo!" Kenya smiled at Brianna as she walked into the gym making a few people stare at her, including a few of the basketball players.

She waved and quickly made her way over to where Kenya was sitting on the other side of the gym with the rest of her teammates.

"Why didn't y'all tell me all the basketball players practice in here. I would've came earlier so I didn't have to walk past them." Brianna whispered to them as she sat on the bench.

"Girl, I forgot! We’re used to their overgrown asses at this point. They just come in here early and walk around. They don't even practice in here." Kenya mugged the basketball players as she tied up her sneakers.

"I don't mind cause they're fine as fuck. I like looking at them while we practice." Chloe jumped into the conversation, bitting her lip as she watched a player walked past them.

"I can't lie a couple of them are cute but it's still awkward because they're staring at me." Brianna shook her head making them laugh.

When coach came in they got started with practice. Brianna immediately got into her zone and was doing an excellent job with the team. She could tell all of the girls were dedicated to doing well and that was exactly the type of people she wanted to work with.

"You did good today, newbie." Her coach tapped her shoulder as she took a large sip of water after they wrapped up the practice.

"Thanks Coach." She nodded her head in her direction with a small smile on my face.

She was gelling very well with everyone so far and it was making her feel more confident. In a matter of a week she was making friends, bonding with her teammates, and enjoying the college experience.

"Y'all got extra towels over here?" She looked up to see Jey, the same boy who interrupted her in their sports introduction class.

"No, we don't have no towels for you boy. Where's the towels Coach Towns has?" Keyna scrunched her face at him. She knew he was just coming over there to bother them considering it was his second year on the team and he knew exactly where the towels were.

"Man, we don't have no more clearly. That's why I'm over here rude ass." He sucked his teeth and took a seat on the bench next to Brianna.

She briefly looked over at him and smiled when the two of them made eye contact with each other.

It was no secret Jey was a fine looking man. His warm honey colored skin, deep brown eyes, and plump pink lips would have any woman ready to jump his bones. Everything about him made him Brianna’s type of man from his looks to his personality but she would never act on her feelings

"Are you just gonna stare?" She asked him once she realized he wasn't going to look away.

Taken back by her words he slightly tilted his head back and squinted his eyes at her. He was used to being the blunt one but the fact that she beat him to it made him like her even more.

"You didn't give me a chance to speak to your pretty self. I was tryna look at you first." He spoke while glancing over her again taking in her appearance.

His eyes glanced over her beautiful face that was on full display due to her natural brown hair being pulled into a messy bun. He remembered seeing her with a twist out a few days ago and could tell from the wide curls she quickly styled it with some baby hairs. She always kept her hair laid but the natural look was something different.

"Hmm okay, I just didn't know why you were staring at me." She blushed at his compliment.

"You shouldn't take it personally when you have a pretty ass face. I know you're used to people in your face all the time." He reasoned with her.

"Not really."

"Your boyfriend doesn't tell you you're pretty?" He raised an eyebrow at her as Kenya listened to the two of them converse with each other. She knew immediately that Jey was feeling Brianna but she was too innocent to even notice.

"I don't have one of those."

"What you doing after this?" He leaned forward and looked over at her. Even in her volleyball uniform she looked good to him and he found himself glancing over at her more than he should've as she stared at him through her long lashes and innocent eyes.

"Probably going to grab something to eat with my friend." She shrugged her shoulders. "Why?"

"The team's are going to grab something to eat at Waffle House once we wrap up practice. You and Kenya should come through."

"I'll ask her if she wanted to do anything. If not we might come." She told him as she stared back at Kenya who quickly turned her head.

"Ight, I'll see you around Bri." He stood up from the bench and made his way back to the locker room.

After she finished talking to Jey she mentioned to Kenya that he invited them to Waffle House to grab something to eat. Chloe decided to join them since she was becoming closer with Brianna and wasn’t ready to go back to her dorm.

"I don't think we were flirting." Brianna turned her face up at Kenya as they sat in the booth.

"Chlo, she was like 'how you know I got a man’ and you know how he's all flirty and shit. So he was like 'I'm just assuming you got one'. In his deep ass voice. She explained the situation dramatically making the three of them laugh.

"Ohh gurl, it sounds like y'all were flirting just a lil bit." Chloe pinched her fingers together and squinted her eyes.

"He was flirting with me! Asking if I had a man." She shrugged her shoulders before taking a sip of her water.

"Sounds like he’s feeling you." Chloe sipped her drink and Keyna nodded her head quickly in agreement because she peeped that too.

Before she could respond the front door of the diner opened and in walked a mixture of football and basketball players. Her eyes immediately caught eye contact with Jey who gave her a smile before winking at her.

He's so fine. She thought to herself.

"There go her man right there. We done talked him up and they're already starting with the eyes." Keyna sipped her iced tea

"Now, all I did was look up." Brianna giggled.

"You might as well move over because he's gonna come sit by his boo." Kenya said to Chloe as she shifted in the booth.

"Why do y'all keep calling this man my boo?" Brianna asked with a laugh.

"I know Jey sis and he's on you bad. He be cool on bitches for real. Like, I have witnessed this man tell hoes to back the fuck up."

"Aye, yall finna sit over here?" Kenya waved them down making Chloe smack her arm.

"Girl, no! I don't want him to sit over here." Chloe rolled her eyes at the sight of Maurice.

"Wait, that's not your boyfriend?" Brianna raised her eyebrows because the two of them were caked up in the gym a couple days ago.

"Not at the moment. He pissed me the fuck off." Chloe rolled her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Damn, y'all are still beefing? I thought he apologized?" Kenya asked with confusion on her face.

"No, he ate some cat and thought shit was cool." She mumbled making them bust out laughing.

"Not you standing on business." Kenya laughed as the guys walked over to their booth and sat down.

As Kenya said Jey slid into the booth and sat right next to Brianna who was smiling at him. The smell of his cologne instantly filled her nose.

He smelled so so good

“What you getting?” He asked Brianna once everyone got settled.

"I don’t know. Everything smells so good." She shrugged as she picked up the menu.

"Shit, everything is good. I'm not gonna lie." Jey nodded his head as she looked over the menu. He already knew what he wanted since he came here so often.

“You know what you’re getting?” She looked over at him.

“Yeah, the same thing I get every time. This is my favorite spot.” He told her.

Nodding her head she looked over the menu a bit before deciding what she wanted to get. In the meantime Jey talked her ear off but she didn’t mind. She liked his personality and how he had her laughing the whole time they talked.

Everyone was pretty much in their own world as Maurice tried to butter up Chloe and Kenya talked to one of Jey’s teammates. When the group was ready to go Jey took it upon himself to pay for Brianna’s meal which she greatly appreciated.

“My hair is about to get ruined.” Brianna whined looking at the rain the was coming down.

Jey glanced over at her before taking off his favorite hooded letterman jacket and giving it to her so she could protect her hair.

“No, you don’t have to do that. You already paid for my food and stuff.” She shook her head innocently but Jey wasn’t having it.

“Hmm, I’ll be fine. I got another one in my car.” He spoke nonchalantly as he held the jacket out.

“Okay, thank you.” She smiled, pulling the large jacket on. The smell of his cologne immediately filled her nose as the jacket bascially swallowed her.

“Jey! You wanna give her a ride back to the dorm? I was gonna ride back with Brandon but not if she has to walk back by herself.” Kenya called out to him.

As much as Kenya wanted to hang out with Brandon she wasn’t going to leave her friend to walk back on her own. Nor would she let her get in the car with Jey if she wasn’t comfortable doing so.

“I got her if she’s cool with that.” Jey nodded his head at Kenya who turned her attention towards Brianna.

“Are you comfortable riding with him? If not I can walk back with you, no pressure.” Kenya reassured her.

“Yeah, that’s fine. If you don’t mind dropping me off.” She smiled at him.

“I got you, come on.” He nodded his head.

tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @chloeijuana @tian-monique

[rosenclaws]

Superstars || Pro Wrestler!Logan x Pro Wrestler!reader

Summary: It's your first day on XMN television since being called up to Evolution. With new friends and possible new rivals your career is filled with the unknown. Especially when it seems like one of the veteran superstars has his eyes on you.

Warnings: some description of wrestling violence.

a/n: OKAY SO. I decided to treat this universe as like sort of series? But it's not like a cohesive story just a lot of short stories in the same universe that can be read separately kind of. This is like the introduction thing though so I will be following up but it can still be read solo. ALSO, I'm gonna add some like wrestling terminology at the end of the fic in case you aren't familiar with certain slang but if that's annoying plz let me know. plz feel free to ask me any clarifying questions too! This is just me combining my two interests lmao.

This was it. Your debut on Evolution since being moved from Origins. You paced back and forth backstage as you rehearsed your lines over and over again. You were supposed to go and interrupt the current Woman's champion Storm. She's the babyface of the Woman's division and you're the egotistical heel.

She has been undefeated for a year now and you were her next challenger. You feel someone tap your shoulder and you turn to see Storm and Rogue.

"You ready?" Storm asks, the belt resting on her shoulder.

"I guess," You were already dressed up with hair and makeup but it didn't feel real yet. Evolution was XMN's main show. That's where the superstars were, the ones they saw as true star power.

"You're going to do great, promise I'll go easy on you." Storm teases. Despite her goddess character, she's nothing but sweet and down to earth.

"First promo on a new show, don't forget your lines sugar." Rogue jokes.

"I'll try." You say nervously. She notices the deep anxiety written all over your face and gently places her arms on your shoulders.

"You got this, take a deep breath and when you get out there take it all in because you're never going to forget it." Rogue says warmly.

The two of them are called by a production manager leaving you alone once again. The clock was ticking ever closer to your call time. As you head closer to where you need to be you're stopped once again but this time by two men you've never met but heard a lot about.

The Wolverine and Deadpool were XMN's top tag team. Somehow the two of them work. Logan or Wolverine was always going to be a star.

Founded on the indie circuit going by just Logan at the time he was big, brooding, and strong. But his mic work was lacking as he wasn't a big talker. Still his raw talent and clear wrestler figure made it a no brainer to sign the man. That's where he met Wade Wilson. Or Deadpool.

He was a comedy character with a big mouth and the ability to get the crowd wrapped around his finger. He was vulgar and unserious as hell but people loved him. So imagine the shock when the two of them became a tag team. It was strange at first, I mean the two were nothing alike but for some reason the fans gravitated to them. The buddy cop duo charmed their way into viewers hearts.

It made sense, Wade was funny but he never quite reached the status to win any gold. Logan had the chance to win gold but fans hadn't really seemed to connect with him as a possible champion. Put them together and you had an odd couple tag team that people just wanted to root for. Wade did the talking while Logan was the muscle. But the banter the two of them electric.

Not to mention the chemistry in their wrestling, pulling off tag team moves flawlessly. Now they're the world tag team champions. And they're standing right in front of you. You were a massive fan of them and had been before you even joined XMN.

"Logan look! A new ducky has joined the pond." Wade pulled you into a hug immediately.

"Oh, uh hi!" You say as you hug him back.

"Get off her idiot." Logan says with a roll of his eyes.

Man Logan was even hotter in person. They had a match tonight and you just thank whoever decided he should wear those low rise trunks. Everything is on display for sure.

"Hi, I'm a huge fan of both of you." You say excitedly.

"Of course you are, who isn't a fan of us." Wade says jokingly.

"Shut up." Logan says before turning to you.

"Thanks sweetheart. Glad to see you here." You notice his eyes scanning you up and down and you silently thank yourself for wearing your good shorts.

"I've seen you on Origins, you're amazing!" Wade compliments and you thank him.

"You really think so? I'm really nervous about tonight." You say shyly. You've done this before but for some reason tonight just felt different.

"Look, you've got no reason to be nervous sweetheart. You got the look, the talent, the athleticism. Everything. Plus a pretty face never hurts." Logan says with a smirk.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies at his compliment. Logan isn't the guy to say something he doesn't mean. In fact it's a shock he's even talking to you. You were warned before about how little he talks and to not take it personally. But here he is smiling and giving you advice.

"Thank you, it means a lot coming from you." You say with a smile.

"Good luck tonight by the way, I'm kind of surprised you aren't main eventing. I mean everyone loves you guys." Logan just shrugs and throws the belt over his shoulder.

"I don't mind too much, we'll get the crowd going for you." He says with a wink. Wade eyes the two of you suspiciously, head turning back and forth.

"Oh my god you are so-" Logan slaps his hand over Wade's mouth before he can say anything else.

"We have to go, see you around real soon sweetheart." Logan drags Wade away towards the main stage.

"So rude!" Wade huffs as he shoves Logan's hand off his mouth. Your eyes drift down as they walk away, shamelessly watching Logan's ass.

Despite only talking to him for a couple minutes he's managed to calm all your nerves.

You watch Logan and Wade's match from gorilla. You can't tear your eyes from the screen as Logan clotheslines . He lets out a roar and the crowd cheers. The intensity in his eyes send shivers down your spine. But fuck does he look good.

His massive arms are on full display as he lifts Beast over his head and slams him onto his knee. He turns his back to the camera and you get to see those muscles in all their fucking glory.

"Careful, you might catch flies." You turn to see Jean standing next to you. She's smiling but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Oh I wasn't...I was just watching-"

"It's okay, he's a handsome man. Trust me I know." She hums.

You laugh nervously but there's a strange air between the two of you. Jean was the top star. She may not hold a belt but she was a massive draw and everyone knew it.

"If I can offer you a word of advice, I'd stay away from him if I were you. A lot of history there." She flashes a smile and leaves.

You start to fiddle with your sleeve as you let Jeans words sink in. Looking at Logan doesn't mean anything. He's handsome anyone could see that. That's all it is. You don't think about him that way, at least you don't think you do. You barely know the guy. Storm notices your mini spiral and comes over to snap you out of it.

"Don't let her get to you," Storm says.

"Whatever she said, just block it out." You nod and try and push that away. This is your moment and you got this. This is no different than being on Origins. You know how to do this, you're good at this. The bell rings and Logan and Wade stand victorious.

As they walk back into gorilla you clap along with everyone else. Logan runs his fingers through his hair, his once perfectly styled tuffs are now flattened from sweat. His whole body is sweaty and fuck is it hot.

"Nice match Logan," Storm hums.

"Thanks 'Ro. By the way, be nice tonight alright, It's her first day." He says gesturing towards you. Storm raises an eyebrow at his request.

"She's not brand new Logan, just new to this show."

"I know. Just saying she might be nervous is all." Storm smirks. Logan has never cared this much about a new superstar before.

Interesting.

"Logan! That match was amazing." You praise. You move to hug him but stop yourself. Feeling a pair of eyes drilling themselves in the back of your head.

"Thanks sweetheart, I had hoped you were watching." Storms music hits and you watch her walk out to the crowd. The nerves coming back in full force as you realize it was almost time to go out there.

"Hey, stop that." Logan nudges your shoulder and you sigh.

"I don't know why I'm so nervous. I've been doing this for years but this just feels so much bigger." You say.

"Look Chuck wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't think you were ready. I've followed your career since you joined this place. Like I said earlier you have everything it takes. So don't let some nerves get in your way got it?" Your eyes widen at his words.

He's really watched you all this time? Logan is a star and you've just got called up from developmental. It's like a surge of confidence. He's right. You can do this.

"Thank you Logan." You take a few deep breaths and wait by the curtain. In and out.

You focus on what you have to say and wait. A calmness washes over your mind and body as your music hits. Like a switch is flipped inside of you. You grab the mic and walk out that curtain, ready to show the world what you had.

The whole segment went flawlessly. You interrupt Storm, pushing yourself as the soon to be new woman's champion. You feel right at home as exchanged a war of words with her. Everything ending in a brawl that leaves Storm on the mat with you standing above her. Holding the belt and pointing right at the camera.

The fans fell right into your hand. Booing your shameless attack on their champ. You try and hide your smile as you walk out. The fans love you, they want this match and you couldn't be happier. The moment you step back through the curtain you let yourself breathe. Jumping in happiness.

"You did great sugar! It was electrifyin'" Rogue says while pulling you into a hug.

A few other people congratulate and welcome you to the show. After a small debrief about next week you're free to go. Walking through the halls of the arena you can barely contain your excitement for next week. As you change back into normal clothes you find a familiar face waiting outside of the locker room.

"Logan, I thought you would have gone back to the hotel by now." You say, slightly shocked he's still her. He's leaning against the wall with his backpack. Dressed in a very cozy looking gray sweater.

"Decided to stick around to watch. I told you you'd kill it." He joins you as you walk to the exit.

"Well I had to make sure we were worth following your match." You tease. The conversation flows easy as he walks you to the car waiting to take you both back. Luckily the lobby is practically empty by the time you're dropped off with no one joining you in the elevator.

"Hey, I'm going to train tomorrow if you want to join me. I could show you a few things. See what you've got too." Logan offers.

"Yes!" You blurt out. The chance to train with Logan, you'd be a fool to pass that up.

"I mean, yes that would be great." You try and cover any embarrassment by staring at the ground, wishing it would swallow you up. Logan chuckles leans against his hotel door.

"Okay, it's a date then. See you tomorrow sweetheart." He scans his keycard and goes into his room, leaving you standing there in shock.

A warm fuzzy feeling growing in your stomach as you repeat his words in your head. Date. You hear someone clear their throat and you turn to see Jean watching with an unimpressed look on her face.

You duck your head and hurry to your room. Getting in as fast as you can. You throw your bag on the table and fall onto the hotel bed. Today was not like anything you were expecting. Debuting on a new show, meeting Logan, Jean, setting up a championship feud. It's a lot in one day but you couldn't be happier. This was everything you had dreamed of since you decided to become a wrestler and now it was coming true.

Who knows what's going to happen next.

Gorilla - backstage area where the show is run and the area right before the entrance curtain

Promo -  promotional interview, a dialogue or monologue used to advance a storyline.

Babyface/Face - The "Good guy", "Hero" character. Wants to be cheered by fans

Heel - "The bad guy" or "Villian" that is meant to be boo'd by fans

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Love and War III

Summary: Trapped within the Illyrian War Camp, Reader must decide the best course of action to get home, even if it means trying to seduce the enemy

Content Warnings: Mentions of Past Abuse, Descriptions of Scars/Blood, Canon Typical Violence; NSFW (a little bit of SMUT, just a tease 😈) at the end.

Previous Chapter/Masterlist

__________________

I can’t sleep.

It’s not because my enemy sleeps with his back to me, inches away, only a couple of furs and pelts between us, though it certainly doesn’t help. All night, staring at the tent wall, the strange patterns etched into the dark leather, the images of my parents, my brother, my people, flash behind my eyes every time I close them. I can hear Tamlin calling me a traitor; hear my parents final, dying screams. They are gone and the male that killed them sleeps inches from me. 

My dagger is next to my boots near the edge of the bed. Several times over the last couple of hours I’ve debated on crawling for it, imagining the heavy feel of it in my palm before I drive it between Rhysand’s shoulder blades and pierce his heart. I have never killed anything but game before, it’s the specifics and all their complications that stop me. What if I miss and he wakes up? What if I manage it but can’t get past the ward, condemning me to the mercy of his entire camp? And worse yet, what if it is not enough for Tamlin to take me back?

I chew my lower lip as I roll over onto my back. I know he would do just about anything to have Rhysand’s head delivered to him on a platter, or at the very least, those great wings to keep as a trophy. But killing a warlord doesn’t remove the threat of his camp, shy of slaughtering every last male, women, and child here, there would always be a chance of retaliation. A new lord would take his place if there was so much as a single survivor, and the bloodshed would start all over again, even if it took a few decades to get to that point.

No, my people deserve peace, to not have to look over their shoulder every day expecting an ambush. I would not live to see any children I might have, grown and subject to the cruelty of this war band. I would not birth anything into a world where my pain could be their own. So killing him is out of the question, at least for now. 

So what can I bring in lew of that? Camp movements? Numbers? Do I try to steal some horses or resort to outright sabotage so that someone else is always to blame when things go wrong? 

My head hurts from all the questions. 

My chest hurts from all the things I know I might have to do. My mother would be ashamed of me. And yet, I hear my father’s voice, telling me to stop being so useless and do something. He tells me I am selfish for hesitating, stupid for not seeing the opportunities in front of me.

I roll over onto my side so I can get another look at the male who claims to be my mate, the male who ruined my life. He’d brought me more food than I’d seen in years last night, had stumbled through the most awkward conversation of my life before offering the whole bed to myself if I was uncomfortable having him near by. An insane notion really, the bed was big enough for us to sleep in without being in arm’s length of each other. Even then, he’d wrapped his wings around himself and slept on the opposite edge, never once rolling any closer, even in sleep. It was an awkward kindness, but a kindness I had not prepared to face. I had spent the better part of the evening with him wondering how I’d deter him from trying to sleep with me, since he’d been so casual with touching me earlier in the day, but it had never come up. Maybe today it would, but for now, he had not entirely made himself as bad as I remembered him to be.

Again, it is my father’s voice in my head, “He’s a male, there’s a clear way to get him to reveal his secrets.” 

He is a dangerously attractive male. I have to admit I’m surprised he has not taken after many of the other warlords and formed a harem of captive brides. Between his power and his looks, he could have had dozens of wives already, yet this tent is void of any feminine objects to imply he’s anything other than single. He would not be hard to seduce, he is already so eager to have me nearby.

I roll over onto my stomach, trying not to huff my annoyance. It is not as if I’m some blushing virgin, I wouldn’t be giving anything over to him that I hadn’t already offered, in secret, to other males. He’d be the most attractive male I’d ever bedded, at that. I shouldn’t need that much convincing, or alcohol, to tumble into the sheets with him. Especially if it means he lets his guard down and tells me something useful. Especially if the distraction keeps him from thinking about asking me to take his mark again. What need for it would there truly be if I’d already surrendered myself to him?

Yet, my stomach rolls at the mere thought of it. Those hands had shed my peoples’, my parents’, blood! In a matter of minutes, those hands had stolen the only security and safety I had ever known, and I haven’t felt a shred of it since, and I was going to let them touch me?

A shiver runs down my spine. No, there has to be another way to get information out of him without trying to seduce him.

I lay there, mind spinning, as soft gray light starts to filter in through the small gap underneath the tent. Rhysand will have to leave me alone in here eventually, I will just have to wait for the right opportunity to start snooping through his stuff and then maybe a better plan will come to me. Perhaps something in one of those stacks of untouched chests in the corner will reveal a weakness I can exploit, some hidden secret I can use to my advantage. I have to hope they hold something, I have little options otherwise.

With that plan in place, I finally close my eyes, and try to let sleep fill the void. No amount of worrying will make him up and leave this early in the morning, there is little else I can do at this moment other than sleep. But it’s not even a full minute after I close my eyes that the tent flap is tossed open, the stiff leather slapping so hard against the wall Rhysand springs up with a dagger in hand, wings flaring behind him, so large they nearly span the expanse of the tent.

“We have a…” I feel eyes on me, over Rhysand’s shoulder, as I sit up, “situation.”

Rhysand lowers the dagger to his side, hand shaking, knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping it. Strange, did he often expect to be attacked in his own tent?

“Ready the men,” he orders and the intruders withdraw before I can get a good look at them.

He smooths a hand through his hair, loose now from the knot it had been tied on, the braided strands drifting over his sharp cheekbones. His wings droop until they’re dusting the floor, like a giant leather cape. “You’ll stay in here,” he says, voice still thick with sleep. Dark circles rim his eyes and I can’t help but wonder if I was the only one drowning in my thoughts last night.

I nod, biting down on my cheek to keep the grin pulling at my lips away. Perhaps the Mother is looking out for me after all! This is just the opportunity I need! “You…” I need to play it safe, sounding too submissive too early might get suspicious. I don’t want him to think I’ve so readily accepted this arrangement, but I don’t want him thinking I’m going to try and run off either. I let the words come out slowly, like I’m unsure to say them. “You don’t want me to come with you, like you said yesterday?”

He rubs a hand over his face as he goes to a chest at the edge of the bed and starts pulling out his fighting leathers. “Not yet, not until you’ve taken my mark and I can guarantee it’ll protect you.”

Shit! I need him to stop thinking so much about that stupid mark.

He peels off his shirt, the early morning light coming through the open door illuminating the swirl of dark ink tattooed across his bare chest. I’d been too panicked about our sleeping arrangements to get a good look at him when he’d changed last night, or else I also would have seen the scar across his side, the four lines like claw marks across his bronze skin. There are other, smaller marks, a burn on his hip, a jagged slash across his collarbone, but none are so pronounced as the claw marks. 

My hand goes instinctively to my own side. I know those claw marks. I know how they scar, because I have the same ones on my side. “Stupid, useless girl!” I know them, because like the voice that keeps ringing in my ears, they came from my father.

I don’t know if that’s a sign of what I need to do, as if, even in death my father’s will is still forcing itself on my life, or some cruel twist, like the matching stars on the back of our hands.

“Are you all right?” Rhysand asks.

By the time I’m able to focus on him again, he’s already laced up his leathers and sheathed that massive sword between his wings. I give myself a little shake, let my hand fall back down into my lap. “Yeah.”

Like last night, he looks like he might say more, but then thinks better of it as he tightens a belt of knives around his waist. “Stay here, you’ll be safe. I’ll be back soon.” And then he’s gone. 

I stare out the empty door long after his large form is no longer visible, sunlight slowly creeping further and further into the tent’s cave-like darkness. No guards. I eventually crawl out from under the mountain of pelts, the lack of heat obvious as a draft of icy wind blows through the open door. I wrap one around my shoulders as I pad, barefoot, over the rug covered floor to the door. The encampment around me still slumbers, no drum beats to be heard this early. Some of the other tents nearby have their doors open, I glimpse a body or two still sleeping in their own fur covered beds. No guards. No horses. Beyond the camp, the mountain walls of this secluded haven are dusted with early morning mist, the path the men had taken out invisible from this angle.

I do not want to trek through those mountains on foot and see just how well the shield holds up, not yet anyway. Holding the fur a little tighter around my shoulders, I turn back to the tent and decide the best place to start snooping is here. The outside world can wait a few more minutes. 

I go to the chest at the end of the bed first. It’s full of more fighting leathers, some worn and battle scarred, some shiny and new; an old pair of boots, some mismatched socks, another cloak and two, pitted daggers, the wyvern carving in the handle worn down from years and years of use. Nothing interesting or useful. I close the lid and head to the table to assess the piles of random collections Rhysand has made. It’s a lot of books on strategy and star-charting, I flip through a couple of them, looking for things written in the margins or scraps of paper tucked within the worn pages, but there is nothing but dust. 

“Come on,” I whisper to myself as I move to the next stack. There’s a book of poetry and things written in Illyrian I can’t read, the only thing in the margins of the old paper is some random swirls and markings that match the tattoos on his chest. If I have to learn Illyrian just to find useful information, I am going to be here for years, and there’s no way I’d make it that long without being forced to take Rhysand’s mark.

The remaining scattered items on the table are trinkets and gloves and a couple scarves with stains that look suspiciously like blood. Not a map or log book among them. Does he not keep records of his fighting men? Does he not chart supply lines and keep tabs on his merchants? 

I rub my temples as I go to the stack of dust covered chests in the corner. This might make it obvious that I was snooping, considering the dust is thick enough to be drawn in, but if he asks, I can lie and say I was looking for extra clothes, considering I’m still wearing the clothes I came in. 

The top chest is filled to the brim with swords and knives, a couple of bows and arrows, and a wicked looking mace. All well polished and cared for, the blades carefully wrapped as not to be damaged in transit. I pull a knife out to examine it, the ruby in the top casting rays of light over the tent walls. It’s an expensive weapon… if I start collecting enough things, could I find a place to barter them and bring the money back to Tam? Mother knows we could use the extra cash for supplies!

I put the blade back. If I start stashing things now, I’ll have nowhere to hide them and nowhere to take them until I can be sure that I can get out of these mountains, but it is comforting to feel like I have options here. The more things I can bring back, the better my chances at appeasing Tamlin are.

I’ve just closed the lid when someone clears their throat behind me and I all but throw the pelt around my shoulders at them in surprise.

“Snooping are we?” Laughs a feminine voice.

I keep a hand pressed to my racing heart, even as I inch over to where I’d left my hunting dagger. “Mother’s tits!”

In the doorway, stands a blonde female, her hair braided and tossed over one, bare shoulder. The strapless red top she wears, made of lace, baring just a strip of midriff and a swirl of ink, disappearing over the hem of a flowing skirt stitched in gold thread, must be expensive. I’ve never seen anything like it in our markets; I’d never dare touch it even if we had. I hate the spike of envy that bubbles up in my chest. I’ve never particularly cared about such things, not when the comparison wasn’t so in my face every moment. How was it fair? These people took so much from us, and yet they faced no punishment, it was starting to feel like they’d been rewarded for it even.

“Don’t worry, I’d snoop too,” she says as she steps in, holding a tray of something steaming that smells divine. “I’m Mor, by the way.”

“Hi,” I’m not totally beyond pleasantries, even if I do feel like biting the next stranger to come marching into my life as if they have free reign. “I’m Y/N.”

“My cousin says you’re his mate, is that true?” She sets the tray down then sits and puts her feet up on the corner of the table, sprinkling mud everywhere. 

“I don’t know,” I admit. I don’t want it to be true, but this is a chance to do something for my people, and I’ll play that part best I can, but it would feel fake if I just suddenly pretended to believe it after my comments on the way here. Better to play it safe.

Mor pats an empty seat next to her in invitation, or perhaps demand, there is a regality to her that doesn’t make me feel I have room to tell her no. I am used to people moving me wherever they see fit, my feet start moving as directed before I can decide that I actually want to. “Show me this scar of yours.”

I sit and offer my hand. Hers are soft as she inspects the eight point scar atop my hand, not a callus to be felt. Definitely some form of royalty. 

“How did you get this?” She asks, turning my hand this way and that to get a better look, as if I’m a piece of meat at the market in need of inspecting. 

I bite my cheek to keep from yanking my hand out of her grip. “I was young and stupid, and my father had sent me out to hunt as a punishment, I stumbled into the Middle, and came across the Weaver. When I tried to escape, she threw a hot poker at me, the end was shaped like a star, I guess. She basically branded me.”

“You fought the Weaver?” A mythical monster, no one really knows where she came from, all we know is she lives in the Middle, in a place where other monsters hunt, in a cottage dripping in dark magic known to lewer in weary travelers, as I had been.

“Fought? Goddess no! Played a very terrifying game of cat and mouse, yes.”

“I’m sure your father was proud of such an accomplishment,” she says as she finally releases my hand and pushes a tray of steaming buns, meats and cheeses, and what looks like tea my way. 

My hand drifts over my scarred side subconsciously, and I do not miss the way her blue eyes track the movement, even as I blurt, “Yeah the beating I got when I got home was a little shorter than usual.”

She drops her legs off the table so she can turn and look at me fully and I wince as I realize my mistake. “My father is like that too,” Mor confesses with startling gentleness.

I’m even more surprised when she reaches out to take my hand, not to inspect this time but to comfort me over our shared past. My chest tightens; a lump forming in my throat. My father was not the worst male in the Grasslands by any means, he kept us all fed and alive, and sheltered for the most part, but he was never kind. 

Mor gives my hand a squeeze. “You are safe here, Y/N. I promise. Rhys won’t give you any trouble.”

I’m supposed to hate her. She is a part of this warband, she answers to Rhysand, she bears his mark--a swirl of stars across her right arm--she is my enemy. I aim to steal all her secrets and use them against her, to take from her all the luxuries my people were never afforded, a life we were never blessed to live. We have nothing! They had everything because they took it. And I wanted to take it from them, from her. So why, when I looked into her eyes did I suddenly feel so godsdamned guilty?

When I don’t say anything, Mor pushes my plate towards me again. “Eat. You’re thin as a board. Then maybe later, I can show you around camp? I’m sure my cousin will give you his tour or whatever, but it’s never the same without a girls’ perspective, right?”

I snag the tea, hoping the heat will burn away the lump still lodged in my throat. Why is she being so nice to me? These people are not supposed to be nice! They’re supposed to be cruel! They’re supposed to be evil, ruthless monsters! 

“That sounds like fun,” I say, the words as bitter as acid. I am a terrible person. She is genuine and kind and going out of her way to be nice to me and I intend to manipulate all of that.

Mor grins as she walks back to the door. “Holler if you need anything, ok? My tent is just down the way.”

“Thanks,” I say as I reach for a warm, sticky bun. It’s so sweet and gooey in the center and I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so good in my life, yet, when I swallow, it might as well be sand. What have I gotten myself into? What kind of monster am I if I do this?

I set the bun back down on the tray and put my head in my hands. If I do this, am I just as bad as Rhysand?

------

Rhysand doesn’t come back until nightfall. Mor had come by hours ago with a tray for dinner, and had stayed for over an hour, talking about a lot of nothing, just to keep me company. I found out that she’s married to someone named Cassian, though she confessed after a bit of wine that Rhysand had orchestrated the union to get her away from her father, and that neither of them cared for each other in that way. It served the both of them to have the title, and while they shared a tent, there was little more than friendship between them. She’s very talkative, even with the smallest bit of wine, not that I minded, after several hours alone with my thoughts, it was nice to have something else to think about other than how I might sell my soul to get out of here. By the time she’d left and I’d made myself comfortable in the massive bed, I could only faintly make out the sounds of hoofbeats in the distance.

I’d be a liar if I said my heart rate doesn’t spike at the sound.

It isn’t like I was still snooping through his stuff--truth be told I’d forgotten there was still stuff to look through--but I sit up in a panic all the same, trying to figure out where I need to be to look the most innocent. Had I left anything out of place? 

I’m about to jump out of bed and double check the locks on the chests when Rhysand stalks back into the tent, completely covered in blood.

I can’t do anything other than stare, unsure if the blood dripping from his hair and down his face is from the gash across his temple or the gore that looks like it had been hurled at the left side of his head, chunks of something clinging to his ear.

There’s a small area behind the bed with a basin of water and some clean towels and he goes right to it, tearing off the leather gauntlets at his wrists and then his very damaged chest piece. Both make a heavy thwack as they hit the rug, a puddle forming beneath them. 

“Are-are you ok?” There are too many questions in my head, this one slips out first as I twist to look at him over the headboard of the bed. 

He winces as he pokes at the cut on his temple, “Fine,” is all I get before he cups water in his hands and does his best to clean the gore off his face. He’s making a mess. I’m tempted to crawl out of bed and throw a towel on the floor to spare the rug from damage, but the shadows that drift from his skin make me think better of it. 

Powers aren’t rare, especially among warlords, most of the fae need them to survive this barbaric society we live in, but I’ve never met anyone with such an obvious manifestation of them. Shadows trail off his shoulders, over his wings, twining around his powerful thighs. I can almost taste the darkness that leaks from him, even with the space between us. It is palpable and tangible and tied to his anger. A button I don’t want to push in any way. I sink a little lower into the mattress, using the headboard as a shield, just in case. 

“What happened?” I ask softly. 

He yanks a towel off the little drying rack next to the basin so hard it snaps like a whip and I flinch a little involuntarily. “We got ambushed.” He wets the towel and starts running it over his hair. When he unties the braids in the back, clumps of gore fall to the floor. “My sentinels spotted some enemy scouts this morning, when we followed them back, they led us right into a trap.”

Please don’t be Tamlin. Please don’t be Tamlin. “Did you find out who it was?”

“I have my suspicions,” he tosses the ruined towel on a floor and reaches for another to wipe off his arms and chest. “But none of them were marked.”

Not typically my brother’s style, but I can’t be totally sure. My anxiety sits like a weight in my stomach. “Any casualties?” 

“None of mine,” he growls. “Just some scrapes. Even unprepared, my men are lethal.”

Not as reassuring as I assume he thinks it is.

“We brought a few survivors back, I’ll know who sent them by morning at the latest.”

If I can get a good look at them, I can know for sure they’re not Tam’s men… “What will you do with them?”

He starts untying the laces of his pants and I hurriedly turn away, a blush creeping up my cheeks. I know he thinks we’re mates, but Cauldron have a little decency!

“Azriel will get the information I need out of them,” he says and I hear the sound of his boots and pants hitting the floor. “And then I will make an example out of them.”

It’s suddenly colder in here than it was a moment ago. I grab a pelt and pull it up to my chin as I draw my knees up to my chest.

There’s a beat, the only sound the scraping of a towel over his skin, and then I’m suddenly very aware of his presence at my back, his shadow looming over me. I sink a little deeper into the mattress, heart in my throat.

“This bothers you?” He asks quietly.

I’m glad there’s a thick layer of wood between us, it means I still have time to reach for my knife. “I-” Mother’s Tits what am I supposed to say?! It’s not like it matters, and maybe I could spin it to fit the narrative I need him to see in me, but the words escape me. No one has ever asked me what I think of the senseless violence that has plagued us since Hybern destroyed the world. Regardless of our boundary lines and markings, we all kill and maim each other to survive; we bleed and die and force others to do the same all for the slightest chance that we might escape that fate one more day. And I hate it! I’ve always hated it. I clung to my parents’ stories of better worlds because I’d wanted so desperately to be in one. 

“I don’t like violence,” I whisper. The first unaltered truth I’ve given him; the only unaltered truth I’ll give him.

He leans against the headboard, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “I don’t either,” Rhysand confesses.

I almost laugh. Death Incarnate hates violence? But when I tilt my head back to look at him, I see the weight of that burden in his eyes. He places his forehead atop his hands, sighing heavily and it’s like I can feel that weight in my chest. 

“I didn’t…” another breath, “I will do what is necessary for my people, no matter what it costs me, but… but it is heavy.”

I know the burden of leading a people is heavy, I have watched it tear Tam apart for decades. My brother had been kind once, had loved and laughed and had stayed up for hours teaching me how to play the fiddle when we were kids. Becoming the leader of our people had taken all those good and kind things and hardened them. The brother I had grown up with and the one I now answered to wouldn’t recognize each other. I hated myself for it, but the empathetic part of me can’t help but wonder if Rhysand had been like that too? Had he been kind and happy before he took over this position? Had becoming a lord stripped him of the things that had made him loveable and turned him into the monster that I knew?

Would being here turn me into a monster I didn’t recognize?

“It must be hard, to carry it alone,” I say slowly, weighing each word like it could be my last. This is a very vulnerable and volatile position to be in. I’m still very aware of the power that drifts off, his still bare, skin. I cannot upset it. But, can I find something useful here?

I’m playing with fire and I can feel it.

“I am used to it,” he replies.

Another beat and then he softly adds, “It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

His response simultaneously makes my heart ache and my mind spin. I hadn’t found anything of use in this tent, despite the hours I’d spent searching, and maybe that was a sign. Maybe there was nothing in this tent, because the information was all contained to one thing: The male standing behind me. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a coincidence that this morning I had been wondering if I should try and seduce him. My assessment about it being easy to do was already confirmed with this conversation, he was vulnerable, now more than ever, all it would take was a push in the right direction…

I push myself back up onto my knees and turn so I can face him. He looks small here, the wet strands of his hair clinging to his face. 

His violet eyes watch my every move like a snake tracking a mouse. 

There’s still a headboard between us. Still time to change my mind. Still time to keep my soul intact. What kind of person am I if I do this? 

I swallow the lump in my throat as I tentatively reach out to take his hand. At least there is no more blood on them. Touching him doesn’t immediately make fire rain down from the heavens so maybe that’s a sign the world won’t totally end if I do this. This male took everything from me, and yet, under his own admission, he’d damn his soul for his people. If a monster could do that, couldn’t I do it for the sake of my people?

“How can I help you?” I ask softly. I hope it sounds convincing, that the shakiness in my voice sounds like a lack of confidence and not because I’m trying not to throw up. This was not the plan this morning! But I’ve gotten nowhere all day and suddenly there’s an opening before me and I have to try and take it, don’t I? It might be my only chance, especially if there is fighting on the horizon. If I can distract him, or figure out who Tam needs to join forces with to finally be rid of Rhysand once and for all, I have to take it. 

His violet eyes widen as they settle on the placement of my hand on top of his, as if he hadn’t thought it possible that I would willingly comfort him. 

Am I doing this too fast?

“If… if this thing between us is real, I want to be useful. I want to be a good mate.” Kill me. Please, put me out of my misery, what in the Seven Hells am I doing?! “Please, show me how I can be a good mate?”

My parents are rolling in their graves.

He moves faster than most fae should be able to, hand sliding out from under mine to reach out and thread into my hair, pulling my body flush against the headboard as his lips meet mine. Cauldron, for a male who looked so awful seconds ago, his lips are sinfully soft. It takes a second for me to even register what I’m doing, and by the time that my brain catches up, he’s sliding his tongue past my teeth and I’m letting him, lips parting, head tilting to give him more access. Having the headboard still between us is both an uncomfortable angle to be at and a relief, because at least I have a little time to accept the fact that I just told Death he could bed me if that would make him feel better.

Tamlin can never find out this is how I saved our people. 

But this is for my people. I can play with fire for them.

There are worse ways to do it, I suppose. He’s certainly not a bad kisser. 

Hell, he’s actually a really, really good kisser, if I let myself stop thinking for two seconds and just relax, I might actually enjoy it.

He pulls away by a mere fraction, forehead resting on mine, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Distract me?” He asks, voice so low and husky I think he might actually be begging.

I hate to admit it, but I do get a thrill of seeing such a powerful male so desperate in my hands. Of course, I can’t let him know that. “Show me?”

It’s all the prompting he needs to release me long enough to climb into bed. I’d forgotten he was already undressed until he was pulling the blanket off and climbing on top of me, all warm skin and damp hair and more desperate kisses. Large hands slide under my sweater, exploring every inch of me as he continues to kiss me like a man starved.

My reservations begin to slip with each new brush of his callused hands over my skin, trailing higher and higher. It’s been awhile since I’ve taken anyone to bed, even longer since I’d had the time to let anybody explore my body so meticulously. It’s good. My eyes drifting shut, body arching into his touch. I don’t know which of us comes up for air first, or which pulls the other back for more. As easy as it is to end up in this position, I’m surprised how readily I want it, him. Something tugs at the skin beneath my breastbone, like there’s a thread being yanked on, warmth flaring down that little spot, hotter and hotter with each passing second. I don’t have enough time to consider what that is, what it means, before his lips trail down to my neck, teeth scraping my tender flesh.

I instinctively drag a hand through his hair as he nips and bites at my throat, surely leaving marks. If I ever had any intention to push him away, I lose it as his large hand kneads my breast, slender fingers moving to tweak my nipple. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter as a moan slips out of me. 

Aren’t I supposed to be distracting him?

Before I can ask, he’s yanking my worn sweater over my head and tossing it over his shoulder. Those intense violet eyes run over me,  a grin stretching across his handsome features as he gives my breast another squeeze, but the teasing stops when he spots the scar across my abdomen. Or maybe the fact that you can count my ribs. Maybe both. His hands drift lower, methodically, not teasing but studying, like he might crack open my rib cage and dissect whatever is beneath my skin. 

“Who did this to you?” He growls, hand trailing over the scar.

My whole body trembles under his touch, mind reeling as I try to make sense of the sudden shift in tone. I don’t want to talk about this. Not with him. I’d already admitted too much to Mor earlier. We need to get back to the distraction. “Hunting accident,” I lie.

His hand remains over the scar, “Don’t lie.”

This is too intense, I’m too vulnerable in this position, I’ve lost all my power. My head spins, trying to think of something clever, trying to get myself back on track. Why did I think I could do this? Seduction is not my skill set. Outright anything is beyond me. I move behind the scenes, quietly with my head down, I am not anyone’s first line of defense. I’m not even sure I’m the last line of defense.

My heart’s pounding in my chest and I know he can feel it beneath his hand, because his face softens. His free hand comes to brush my cheek, pushing a few wild strands of hair from my face. Now I’m really shaking. This is far, far too intimate. 

“You’re my mate,” he says gently. “I will kill anyone who hurts you.”

I don’t want that kind of power looming over me the rest of my life. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You wanted a distraction. This-”

The tent flap bursts open without warning, a flurry of shadows rushing in. Rhysand barely has time to grab a blanket to cover the both of us before a male steps out of those shadows.

“Azriel!” Rhysand snarls. “This better be fucking important!”

The male stands at the edge of the bed, fighting leathers splattered in blood, his dark hair falling over a set of deep hazel eyes. He spins a bloody dagger between hands scarred beyond repair. “They’ve talked.”

Shit.

Rhysand is still leaning over me, body and wings shielding me from Azriel’s view. “And?”

Hazel eyes flick to me before returning to his lord. “Amarantha.”

I don’t know if I should sigh with relief or not. Tamlin is still safe. My people are still safe. But having Amarantha knocking at the door while I’m trapped inside here is not on my to do list. My whole life we’ve avoided her and Hybern’s forces by not making too big a fuss. If they want some of our territory, we push into another lord’s to make sure there’s space for us without any direct confrontation with her. We keep our heads down. We don’t make deals or bargain with the other more tolerable lord’s for aid. We stay within our own borders and we stay out of her way. But the Illyrians? They pick fights with her. They apparently have no qualms with torturing her men. 

“I’ll be right there,” Rhysand says in dismissal and his shadowy companion disappears as quickly as he came. 

“I have to deal with this,” he sighs, leaning back on his knees.

I’m relieved, I really am. I tried to do this way too quickly. I am relieved.

So why do I feel a knot in my stomach?

Rhysand leans in long enough to press a kiss to my forehead, the move tender and gentle, and nothing like the male that had entered this tent covered in blood just moments ago. It makes my head hurt. I know the kind of male he is. I know the monster that lies behind this pretty package. So why is he pretending to be anything else? Why act like this with me? What game is he playing?

“Maybe we can finish this later?” There’s a hint of teasing there, but it feels more like an apology.

I want a later. I want to feel those full lips on my skin again.

I absolutely don’t want a later. This whole thing is a mistake.

“Yeah,” I saw anyway.

He’s dressed and gone before I can ask myself why I agreed to it again. I put my head in my hands, palms pressed into my eyes. What am I doing here? And why is it starting to feel more complicated than it should be?

---------------------------------

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[sexyslut033]

Student Teaching

Callie had transferred to the school I taught at for her senior year. As soon as she arrived there were rumors swirling about why she'd had to change schools. I tried to avoid that kind of stuff, though. It wouldn't be the first time a pretty girl who was confident in her self got tarred with a sexually explicit brush. Still, there was no avoiding the fact that she didn't act like any of the students I'd had before. There was really no better way to say it than that she was seductive. She seemed almost to want to be sexualized; being the object of public desire and resentment, having people whispering behind her back. It all seemed to make her more powerful. Soon she started amassing her little band of followers. Girls started blowing off lessons like she did, sitting in the back of the class gossiping. Makeup got heavier, outfits got skimpier. The atmosphere in the halls seemed to get more sexual. Soon the boys started changing to meet the girls new desires. The school jocks had always been a tame bunch, more known for being friendly if not enormously bright. As they fell under this new energy, however, they started to feel more like alpha males. Muscles swelled for purely aesthetic reasons. Aggressiveness levels rose. They acted possessive in the halls, arguing and even fighting each other for the attention of one barely legal tart or another.

It was hard to deny that these changes seemed to stem from Callie's arrival. Our school was becoming two, with super foxy girls and alpha male boys gliding above the forgotten rest, who faced increasing scorn. The whole atmosphere felt increasingly toxic, and Callie was right at home in this new world. She manipulated like a master, encouraging girls to worship her and pursue shallow, bitchy femininity, and pushing boys to compete for her attention by clashing with other alphas or bullying betas. Those betas she determined below her notice became the carriers of homework loads for popular students more interested in their own looks. I finally decided to speak to Callie. I knew it was slightly crazy to suspect a student of having so much influence on their peers, and definitely crazy to assume it to be nefarious rather than just a result of popular dynamics amplified by a girl so in control of herself.

Nevertheless, I found myself nervously approaching the clique of slutty brats that surrounded her at all times after a particularly disruptive class where only the first row could even hear me over their loud, bitchy gossiping and giggling. When Callie met my eye, the girls shifted away, reacting subconsciously to the desires of their leader. I could have sworn I even saw the spark of triumph in the girl's eyes. After I started dancing around the subject of changing behaviors at school she just smirked.

"Well I'm glad someone has noticed." My shock at her admission was immediately overtaken by the sudden realization of how sexy this girl was. Her looks had become even more dramatic since her arrival had upended the school culture. Her plump, pouty lips turned every comment into a provocation.

"You mean you admit there's been a change?"

"Well duh. When I got here everyone was totally lame. Now this place is fitting for a queen bee like me."

"What did you do?"

"I just brought out everyone's true selves. It turns out most people enjoy giving in to temptation if you let them." As she said this she came closer to me. I couldn't stop focusing on the curve of her breasts. I knew they would feel so good in my hands. I didn't even really notice stepping forward myself as she continued to talk, lowering her voice to a seductive whisper. "I think you're just jealous, aren't you sir? You think I'm a hot little piece of ass, and you're tired of not being able to say it. I know you're only in teaching for the easy access to hot, easy sluts. A big strong man like you, teaching math? It's a joke. You just use your position to encourage girls to become increasingly vapid, bitchy bimbos, and boys to become alpha studs like you. Anyone who can't measure up doesn't deserve the attention of people like us." As she spoke I felt her acrylic nails caressing my cock through my pants. I could have sworn my cock wasn't that big the last time it got hard, if I could still remember anything before this moment totally clearly. Everything she said made perfect sense though, and totally jelled with the fact that I was about to fuck this girl into oblivion. I love this school.

[callsign-rogueone]

the south star

sawyer henrick x reader part two of sawyer and peach's story words: 1.9k 🏷: no book spoilers (yet) and no warnings. just these cuties figuring out how to make this fake-dating thing work. it's totally definitely fake, right? falling in love with your childhood best friend would be crazy.

It’s easy to spot Sawyer on this side of the school — he’s the only one dressed in head-to-toe black, and by far the tallest student around.

Not that there’s many people here at this hour. You’ve both already had dinner, and a few of your classmates who have early morning shifts tomorrow have already gone to bed. 

He settles into the seat across from you, offering you a warm smile that turns into a frown when he sees the book you have open in front of you. “Did I keep you waiting? I’m sorry.”

You finish a sentence and set aside your notebook. “Not at all. I was just getting some studying in — this botany course is harder than I thought it would be. What did you want to talk about?”

He takes a breath, deciding to jump straight into it. “Boundaries. We need to decide — you need to decide, really — how far you want to go with this. I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable— that’s why I’m here, because he’s making you uncomfortable.”

Easier said than done. Where do you draw the line? Where does he want to draw the line? What if you make him uncomfortable by crossing it? You don’t want to ruin your closest, longest-standing friendship. Closest if you don’t count that big gap of the last two years when you’d only spoken to each other once — but before that, he had been your best friend — and at times your only friend — since childhood. He still knows you better than any of your healer friends.

He can see the gears turning. “Hey,” he says softly, reaching across the table. His hand stops an inch from yours, because you still haven’t said anything. “If you don’t want to do this, I get it. My friends meant well, but they can be…” he trails off, looking for the right word.

“No, it’s okay,” you say after a moment. “I’m fine with whatever you are. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You move your hand closer, setting it on top of his. He cradles your fingers in his palm, his thumb brushing over your knuckles gently. It takes everything in you not to shiver at the gentle touch. 

He smiles, shaking his head. “I knew you’d say that. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Ridoc, it’s how to commit to a bit. I’m locked in. I’ll take this as far as you think it needs to go.”

That’s all this is, a bit, an act. You know that, but why does the reminder sting?

He’s still holding your hand, thumb still idly stroking your knuckles. His eyes catch on your nails, lingering there a moment, admiring them. “You’re really good at that. The paint is so neat.”

You feel a little squeeze of pride at the compliment, but you don’t admit that you’d spent extra time on them this week, to make sure they were perfect — filing the tips into perfect ovals and cleaning up the edges with a tiny brush, putting an extra coat of gloss on top. 

“Polish, not paint,” you say with a soft laugh. “And healers need steady hands, don’t we?”

“I didn’t think about that. I guess so.” He realizes that you still haven’t answered his question, still haven’t drawn a specific line in the sand. “Just think about it, okay? And if I ever do anything that crosses a line or makes you uncomfortable, even if it’s something we agreed was okay earlier, you let me know, okay?”

You nod, taking a moment to find the words to respond — you’re lost in his eyes, in the soft concern there.

Has he always been this beautiful? 

“Okay,” you finally answer, more quietly than you’d intended. “I’ll think about it. And thank you. For agreeing to do this, and for being so nice about it.”

He offers you a shy smile. “Of course. Now, my first official act as your totally real boyfriend.” He lets go of your hand, laying it back down on the table gently. 

There’s that stinging feeling again. You push it away, looking up at him. 

“I won this in my first challenge fight, my first year,” he says, unsheathing one of the knives from his hip, “and now I’m giving it to you.”

You raise your eyebrows, amused. “Is this some rider’s tradition I don’t know about? Giving people knives as a romantic declaration?”

“Not that I’m aware,” he answers, “I just want you to have something to defend yourself with.” 

Your joking smile immediately falls. “I don’t know, Sy…”

He flips it around with ease, extending the hilt to you. “Just hold it for a second.”

You take it carefully, weighing it in your hand. It feels entirely different from the small knives you’d use to prepare ingredients; this isn’t made to chop up leaves, but to cut skin, and not in the precise and delicate way that a scalpel would, but with the intent to cause damage.

He reaches out to adjust your hold on it, gently moving your fingers into the proper grip and wrapping his hand over yours. 

You feel the metal warm up under your palm, your breath catching as it moves — molding itself to the shape of your hand, making four groves the perfect size and shape for your fingers. Your eyes snap up to his. “Did you just…”

He realizes he never told you about his signet. “Yeah,” he says shyly, letting go of your hand. “How’s that feel?”

“Better, but still… wrong.”

“I know it feels weird. It’ll take some getting used to. And I hope you won’t ever need it, but you should still have something. Just in case.”

“Okay,” you agree, setting it down on the table and reaching into your bag. “But then I want you to carry this around.” You set a length of stretchy cord down beside it, along with a roll of bandages.

It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Bandages, and… rope.”

“A tourniquet,” you correct. “If someone’s losing a lot of blood—”

“Wrap it around as tightly as you can and tie it in a knot,” he finishes for you, pocketing them. “Got it.”

“On the side of the wound that’s closer to the heart,” you add, and he nods in understanding. “Good.”

“Now, if I want to teach you how to use that, I’m going to have to learn how to do stitches, aren’t I?” He asks, nodding toward the dagger.

“Stitches might be a bit advanced. But I’ll think of something.”

He gives you that sly smile you’ve missed so much. “Are all of our dates going to be educational?”

You flush, realizing that this is technically a date, even if you’re just sitting here talking. “Not all of them. We need a break sometimes. Which leads me to our next order of business. We both have the day off tomorrow, so we can stay up a little longer. C’mon.”

You stand, shouldering your bag and leading him down the hall and through a door he hadn’t noticed, onto a small patio.

“I like to come out here sometimes and just look at them,” you say quietly.

It takes him a second to realize what you’re referring to — but then he follows your gaze up to the sky. The August evenings are finally darkening at a reasonable hour, hundreds of tiny twinkling stars visible overhead. 

You sit down on the sun-warmed stone, Sawyer settling beside you. 

He’s the first to speak, starting the conversation quietly. “After that whole mess at the land-nav exercise, I did some more reading about celestial navigation. You see that one really bright one, over there on its own? That’s the south star. It doesn’t move with the seasons like the rest. The others come and go, but it always stays in the same spot.”

“Do you think it gets lonely?” you ask softly, lying down to look at it better. “Always staying in one place?”

“Only you can make a star millions of miles away have feelings,” he says with a soft laugh. “Maybe. But its friends come to visit every year, and it has the moons for company.” He looks over at you. “But this isn’t about the stars, is it?”

You sigh, shaking your head no. “I want to be here, I really do, but sometimes I feel terrible for leaving them. Especially this time of year.”

He doesn’t need to ask who ‘they’ are; your distant upward gaze at the moon is enough to clue him in. You’re talking about your family, feeling guilty for heading off to school and missing the harvest.

You continue in a whisper. “I know they all encouraged us to go, but… I worry about them, how they’re doing, if the harvest was enough to pay the bills. I know they wouldn’t tell me if it wasn’t, because they know I’d drop out and go back the moment I heard they were in trouble.”

“I think about that a lot. And now that I don’t have that option, and I’ll be gone for four years, not three…” he sighs. “I never told them I had to repeat. I just don’t want them to be ashamed of me.”

You turn your head to look at him. “They could never be ashamed of you, Sy.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you answer, rolling onto your side to face him properly. “Their son is a dragon rider, not to mention the executive officer of his squad, and he can literally bend metal without even touching it. I know you’re around a bunch of badasses with magic powers every day, but to us normal people, that’s really damn cool. So what if it took you a little longer than your friends? You’re the real deal. You’ve got the relic to prove it.”

You realize that he’s never really shown it to you, and that you definitely just admitted to checking him out that day in the infirmary, but you brush past it quickly. “But all that aside, you’re kind, empathetic, funny, strong… you’re a great guy, Sawyer, and an amazing fake boyfriend.”

He flushes even redder.

You smile. “I could go on, but you look like you’re gonna catch a fever, so I’ll stop for now. Just know it’s the truth, every word.”

He looks back up at the stars. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Of course, Sy.” You reach out across the stone, brushing your hand against his. Your heart races as he intertwines your fingers.

“For what it’s worth, you’re an amazing fake girlfriend too.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. That was a world-class pep talk. And I feel very safe with my new rope.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Hey! I was serious about that. You guys are always showing up and getting blood all over the floor. It would be nice if you could keep it in. Especially now that Nolon’s out all the time and it’s just us normal folk around to help.”

He laughs, squeezing your hand gently. “I promise I will keep as much of my blood inside my body as I can.”

“Good.”

You pull your gaze away from the constellations on his cheeks, looking back to the ones lighting the dark, just in time to see a streak of light cross the sky.

“Make a wish,” you instruct, closing your eyes.

Neither of you say your wishes aloud, but you both hope they’re the same.