#figured it would be easier to keep track of

[starry-bi-sky]

i have concept doodles for stately raven!danny its mostly so i could visualize where his burn scars would be, since its easier to keep track of it if i have a visual.

(Jackson Raven is the fake name he'll be going by)

i drew it in a smaller journal than i usually do and its been a few weeks since i drew anything so its a bit messy. I dont quite have burn scars figured out, so it's not as accurate as i have in my head, but it helped get the idea out.

Most of the scarring i was thinking about was around the outside of his arms and is patchier and less-encompassing than what i drew. I think most of it would be second degree scarring, but he does have this odd-looking set of thick, straight third degree burning around his upper left arm from when he was trying to push this large, metal pole out of the way. It's also where the burn line on his neck comes from, he slipped and got himself on the neck by accident. It's less severe but it still ended up scarring.

Just by virtue of how close he was to the explosion I think he might have some flash burn scarring on one side of his face. And only one side because how I imagined it happened was that he was on the phone with his friends or parents cuz he was running late, and he was turned slightly away from the building just as it exploded, so only half of him got flash burned while the other got road rashed.

He wears his Dad's hoodie for typical sentimental reasons, but it has the secondary use of keeping him nondescript. His extensive scarring makes him terribly recognizable and in Gotham that's not a good thing if you're not powerful enough to back it up. And with 'Danny Fenton' being a legally missing kid, it doubles as helping him hide from Vlad.

His hair is long because long hair >>> but also the watsonian reason is that Danny doesn't have the resources to cut it nor the desire to coz hair has memories and the longest parts of his hair is where his family last touched it.

[bravewolfvesperia]

@tenebriism | continued

Okay, maybe that was a bad way to bring it up. In hindsight he really should have thought through that sentence more. Bringing it up like that of course only invited something akin to panic. On a similar note to panic though, Flynn was right that people were looking their way. Not many so far, but enough... and people who had definitely not been present at the bar that night. Or, well, they might have been, but they weren't one of the people around Flynn when... it happened. Word probably started... getting around already.

May he shouldn't have brought it up... but... part of him felt like he had to know. If Flynn remembered anything, if they were just drunken meaningless words, if Yuri should take those words into account and respond accordingly... It was in no way a conversation he would consider himself ready to have, but he knew Flynn would notice before long, if hadn't already, that Yuri was fidgety near him. If Yuri couldn't get it off his mind, eventually Flynn would ask and it would come out anyway. At that time, if Yuri tried to lie, he was mostly certain Flynn would pick up on it.

"Uh- i-it's okay, don't think about it that way. That... people aren't telling you something, I mean." Most likely, people felt it wasn't their business or simply didn't know what to say, but as people do, they couldn't help but notice Flynn after that. "Sorry, I just... worded it pretty poorly. That... probably came across like you said something bad. You didn't."

He had to minute a pause and let out a small sigh. His mind was running a hundred miles a minute about how this conversation could go. Every possible meaning behind Flynn's words and the direction it would go in from there. How afterward, how bad it might look for Flynn as the new Commandant to have said he liked some nobody from the Lower Quarter. How bad it might look for Flynn as the new Commandant to have said those things about someone who had been once deemed a criminal, regardless of how smalltime it was.

"You just, uh... said something about me. In front of some of the soldiers." His thumb was rubbing his index finger, his fidgeting probably noticeably worse. How was he... supposed to say this? Explain what Flynn said? He found himself having paused, and realized if he didn't just spill it that he was going to keep hesitating. Finding dumb ways to dance around it.

"I'd heard you were at the bar and figured that was unusual, so I went looking for you wondering if you'd been pressured to go. I just, um... found you and walked up to you while you were... talking. Well, it was mostly odd words and not really full sentences by that point, but... you-... I-... Do...beautiful, gorgeous, admire and-... l-love sound familiar to you...?" It could just be... him loving his friend, right? It didn't have to be the love Yuri jumped to the conclusion of! But then, why would Flynn answer with that after nosy soldiers were trying to pry into his affections if that were the case...?

Secret is safe with us, his ass. And their asses too, for that matter.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

okay two new sideblogs (probably the only one i'll make after this at all is the one for gravity falls pride headcanons)

@icarusatlast is the new gravity falls organization blog i was talking about

@spookys-tea-party is the personal liomogai archive

nothing in either of them yet but. they're there! and i would quite like to use especially that first one a lot so y'know. unlike the first organization blog maybe. follow it maybe. for lots of gravity falls stuff. with ids. which already makes it way better than the one before it. woohoo

[spiderfaang]

Emery reminded me of how I need more trans hcs for wcs. Especially for cats who have children.

[hellobykittys]

𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ✦ 𝐎𝐏⁸¹

SUMMARY: You are Lando Norris’ twin sister and were completely obsessed with your brother’s teammate, but he was always avoiding you. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x Reader! Lando Norris’ Sister. WARNING: Hot scenes, but not explicit; use of Y/N; Oscar is very shy. WC: 4.7k

MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE

“You need to go a little easier on him,” Lando said as soon as he entered the small room, throwing his backpack onto the chair with a tired sigh. “Oscar’s shy, and you’re scaring the poor guy to death.”

You, leaning against the desk with your legs crossed and your eyes glued to your phone, ignored the first part of the comment. But the last part caught your attention.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning disinterest.

“Oh, come on, don’t act dumb,” Lando shot back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You’re cornering Oscar. I was going to let it slide because, honestly, it’s hilarious. But look, you’re going too far, and he clearly doesn’t know how to handle it.”

You realized denying it would be pointless. Lando knew exactly what you were doing, and probably the whole paddock did too. Maybe it was time to turn the tables in your favor.

“Did he complain about me?” you asked, now genuinely curious, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Because, seriously, I don’t get it. Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t care, but then, in the next minute, he acts like I’m the personification of chaos.”

Your voice carried a touch of frustration. Ever since you met Oscar last season, you had done everything to get his attention. Flirting, glances, little touches. But he always pulled away or acted like he didn’t notice. His shyness, which once seemed charming, was now starting to feel like an impenetrable barrier.

Lando laughed, clearly enjoying himself at your expense. “You know what’s funny? You think you can melt anyone with that smile and some games. But let me tell you, Oscar’s different. He’s more… reserved.”

“I know that,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “And that’s exactly why I’m trying harder. He’s not like the others. It just makes it more interesting.”

Lando shook his head, incredulous. “You’re impossible, you know that? But look, if you keep this up, he’s gonna start running away from you. Like, literally. One day, he’s gonna abandon the car in the middle of the track just to escape.”

You laughed. “He already runs, just in a way less obvious than that. But he’ll get used to it. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Or a restraining order.”

“Funny,” you replied, giving him a sharp look.

After a brief silence, you decided to change tactics. “You could help me out!” you asked, in an exaggeratedly sweet tone.

“No way. Stay out of this, Y/N,” Lando responded quickly, as if he already knew where this was going.

“You’re so heartless!” you retorted, with a theatrical touch. “I come every weekend to support you, and this is how I’m treated? You should, I don’t know, compensate me for always being by your side.”

“Support? You’re kidding, right?” Lando laughed. “The whole team already figured out why you’re always here. And the only person who might not have noticed is Oscar himself.”

“What slander!” you snapped, placing a hand on your chest as if deeply offended. “I come because I like my brother. And I thought he liked me too, but apparently, he doesn’t care enough to help me with something so simple.”

Lando just laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Simple. Find out if he likes me or not. Easy, right?”

Before you could continue the discussion, someone knocked on the door, interrupting the conversation.

“Come in!” Lando replied casually.

The door opened to reveal Oscar. Your excitement was immediate. He, on the other hand… didn’t seem as thrilled to see you.

“I didn’t know your sister was here,” he said to Lando, hesitantly. “I didn’t want to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”

Before he could leave, you rushed to his side and lightly placed your hand on his arm, still covered by his racing suit.

“You don’t have to leave, Osc,” you said softly, your fingers purposely brushing against the fabric of his suit. “Lando and I weren’t talking about anything important. Feel free to stay.”

Oscar hesitated but eventually gave in. “Alright, if you say so…”

Oscar tried to pull away from your touch without being rude, and you, noticing his discomfort, decided to ease the tension and let him slip away.

“Well… I just wanted to ask about the car adjustments for tomorrow. But I guess I interrupted something…” He seemed genuinely uncomfortable, which only made you want to tease him even more.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you replied with a calm smile. “Actually, I’ll just sit here quietly while you two chat.”

With that, you sat down in a chair lost in the room, pretending to fiddle with your phone while you took the opportunity to observe Oscar. The way he spoke, gestured, or even furrowed his brow when something seemed confusing… it was fascinating.

The two of them spent a few minutes discussing technical adjustments for the car when they were interrupted again. This time, it was someone from the PR team, rushing in to inform Lando that they needed him for an urgent photo session.

“I’m on my way,” Lando said, standing up. But before leaving, he gave you a calculated look. “Oscar, can you stay here? Y/N was feeling a bit nauseous earlier, and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was obvious he was making it up, but the feigned concern in his voice was flawless. You knew you owed Lando a big favor now, but it was worth it. For Oscar, everything was worth it.

“Seriously?” Oscar looked visibly surprised, casting a suspicious glance from you to Lando. “Alright, if she needs anything…”

“Thanks a lot, buddy,” Lando replied with a mischievous smile, giving Oscar’s arm a friendly squeeze before walking toward the door. “I’ll be back soon. Wait for me here.”

As soon as the door closed, you jumped up and practically ran to the couch, pulling Oscar down to sit next to you before he could even react.

“Thanks so much for staying, Osc,” you said softly, as if you were truly vulnerable. “I wasn’t feeling too great, you know?”

Oscar tensed next to you, clearly uncomfortable. He looked around, as if searching for an escape route. “Is everything okay now? Do you want me to get some water or something?”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s passed,” you replied, placing your hand on his arm. “I just needed some company. I feel better this way.”

Oscar let out a nervous, short laugh and looked away, clearly trying not to acknowledge the closeness between you two.

“You look cute when you’re nervous, you know?” you remarked, a mischievous smile appearing on your face.

He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to lose his words. Finally, he muttered, “I’m… not nervous.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning in a little closer, until there was almost no space left between you on the small couch. Oscar seemed even more restless, the blush on his face now impossible to hide.

“I think… we don’t need to be this close,” he managed to say, awkwardly trying to pull away. But, poor thing, there was nowhere left to escape.

“Osc,” you started, in a fake hurt tone, looking down at your hands. “I think you don’t like me very much.”

He seemed surprised, the tension in his shoulders easing for a moment. “Why would you think that?”

“Because every time I’m around, you try to get away.” Your voice sounded almost like a lament, and you took the opportunity to glance at him before looking down at your legs. “Did I do something to you?”

When you looked back at him, your face was perfectly molded into a sad expression, your eyes slightly glistening, as if you were truly upset. It was almost impossible not to believe it.

Oscar hesitated, looking genuinely puzzled. “No… of course not. It’s just that…” He stopped, clearly trying to find the right words.

“It’s just that…?” you encouraged, tilting your head.

“You’re… too intense, Y/N,” he finally confessed, his voice low. “I don’t know how to handle you, that’s all.”

A triumphant smile threatened to appear on your lips, but you held it back, keeping up the act. “Intense? I just… like being around you, you know? Is that really so hard?”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s not that. I’m just not used to… attention.”

“So, you’re saying I make you uncomfortable?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, closing the space even more.

Oscar looked away, his ears turning even redder. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Before he could answer, the door suddenly opened, and Lando walked into the room with that typical mischievous smile you knew so well. “Did I interrupt something?”

Oscar practically jumped off the couch, creating visible distance between you two. It was almost comical, but at that moment, you could only curse your brother. He had ruined the perfect moment. You were so close to getting what you wanted!

“No, no,” Oscar quickly denied, the words tumbling out almost in a rush. “Now that you’re here, I… I think I’ll head out. See you before the next practice.”

And without giving anyone a chance to react, he practically bolted out of the room, as if running away from a fire.

You let out a loud sigh, crossing your arms and shooting a deadly glare at Lando, who was still standing in the doorway, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“You did that on purpose!” you accused, frustration clear in your voice.

“Me? No way,” Lando responded, feigning innocence as he closed the door behind him. “But you should’ve seen his face. Poor guy, he looked like he was going to pass out.”

“He wasn’t going to pass out!” you retorted, throwing a pillow toward your brother, who easily dodged it.

“Alright, alright. But seriously, Y/N, you’re being way too hard on the guy.” He threw himself onto the couch, taking the spot Oscar had just vacated. “Don’t you think he’s nervous enough already? Every time you get close, it’s like he forgets how to breathe.”

You huffed, sinking into the couch next to him. “Maybe he just needs to get used to me. It’s not that hard, right?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “For you, maybe. But for him? Oscar is… different. He’s not used to someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” you repeated, intrigued.

“You know,” Lando explained, gesturing vaguely. “Someone who’s not afraid to say what they want and go after it. Oscar’s more… reserved. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t know how to react.”

You were silent for a moment, processing Lando’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe Oscar just needed a little more time. But giving up wasn’t an option. Not now.

“Okay,” you finally said, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips. “I’ll go easy on him. For now.”

Lando laughed, clearly amused by your determination. “Good luck, sis. You’re going to need it.”

The next day, you positioned yourself strategically in the garage, waiting for the right moment to find Oscar. When he finally appeared, talking to one of the engineers, you calmly walked over with a relaxed smile, pretending you had no agenda in mind.

“Hey, Osc,” you greeted, your voice light and carefree. “How’s everything after yesterday? You seemed in a rush.”

Oscar turned to you, and it was almost funny how hard he tried to appear casual, even though he was clearly uncomfortable. “Oh, yeah… I was just running late for something.”

“Of course, of course,” you responded with a soft smile. “Well, I hope things are calmer now. Maybe we can chat after qualifying?”

He hesitated, shooting a near-pleading glance at the engineer beside him, as if he was hoping they could save him. But this time, something different sparkled in Oscar’s eyes. It wasn’t fear or discomfort. It was curiosity, though still shy.

“Yeah… maybe,” he finally replied, his voice softer than usual.

You smiled, already considering that a small victory.

Unfortunately, finding Oscar after qualifying turned out to be impossible. Lando secured pole position, and you stayed to congratulate him, while Oscar, with a disappointing P5, was swept into endless conversations with engineers and mechanics.

By the time it was late, almost time to head back to the hotel, you went to Lando’s room to grab your things while he wrapped up the last commitment of the day. That’s when fate decided to be kind.

The door next to your brother’s room opened, and who stepped out but the exact person you’d been hoping to see.

“Osc!” you called out cheerfully, a bright smile on your face.

“Hey.” His response was much less enthusiastic. The tone of defeat and frustrated expression clearly showed that he was still upset about the qualifying result.

“Bummed about P5?” you asked, trying to start a conversation.

“It wasn’t what I expected,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “But I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” There was a forced confidence in his voice that you didn’t miss.

“I’m sure you will! And look, I’m calling the podium: Lando in first, and you in second. What do you think?”

You stepped a little closer, almost unintentionally, trying to minimize the distance between you. But for Oscar, there was nothing subtle about your approach. He clearly noticed.

“You’re optimistic,” he commented, trying to ignore how you seemed to invade his space without hesitation.

“I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic,” you shot back, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

Oscar looked away, clearly looking for an escape route, but you weren’t about to let him slip away so easily.

“Look, Osc,” you began, your tone softening as you leaned in slightly. “I really think you underestimate how good you are at what you do. You’ve got everything to be at the top. You just need to believe in yourself more.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your change in tone. You saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, and that was enough for you to close the gap just a little more, your smile now sweeter than mischievous.

“You really think so?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I know it,” you replied, sincerity shining through.

Oscar still seemed hesitant, but he didn’t pull away when you placed a light hand on his arm, your fingers resting casually. “You just need to learn to relax more. Maybe I can help with that,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Oscar swallowed, his eyes finally meeting yours. For a moment, you thought he was going to give in. He seemed torn between wanting to escape and something he clearly didn’t want to admit. You leaned in a little closer, feeling you were on the edge of success.

“You’re really hard, you know?” he murmured, the words practically floating between you two.

Oscar opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. And just as you were about to close the distance even more, he took a step back, almost stumbling into the wall behind him.

“I… I need to go,” he said quickly, his voice shaky but firm. “Good night, Y/N.”

Before you could react, he was already halfway down the hallway, walking so fast it was almost a run.

You let out a frustrated sigh, but deep down, you couldn’t help but smile. Little by little, Oscar was starting to give in, even if he still resisted at the last second. It was only a matter of time.

And you knew very well that you had all the patience in the world to wait.

The paddock was a well-organized chaos, with mechanics, engineers, and drivers moving around frantically as the grandstands filled with enthusiastic fans. You, of course, were there, strategically positioned in Oscar’s team’s garage, pretending to be just casually walking around but with a very clear goal in mind.

He was there, adjusting his gloves while listening carefully to an engineer. He seemed so focused, he could have blended in with the rest of the team. Almost. You, however, always managed to spot him in the crowd.

“Hey, Osc!” you called, walking into the space without any hesitation.

Oscar quickly turned, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you there. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I came to wish you good luck, of course,” you answered with a sweet but mischievous smile.

“Good luck?” He seemed suspicious, clearly aware that you rarely did something that simple.

“Of course!” You tilted your head slightly, looking at him as if his question was absurd. “You know I’ll be cheering for you too, right? First Lando, and then you!”

Oscar opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, a blush already creeping up his face. He looked around desperately, almost as if hoping someone would save him from the situation. But, as you’d already noticed, no one was paying attention to you two.

“You’re kind of tense, Osc. It won’t go well like this, you know?” You stepped a little closer, lowering your voice slightly, but still clearly teasing. “Are you nervous because of me?”

“No,” he quickly replied, although his tone and the blush on his face said otherwise.

“Hmm… funny,” you murmured, pretending to think. “Because it seems like every time I get close, you get a little… uneasy.”

“Y/N, we’re in the pit… in public,” he whispered, almost as if trying to make you stop.

“So what? No one’s listening, and we’re not doing anything wrong, are we?” you shot back, a smile mixing sweetness and mischief on your lips. “I’m here to support you, Osc. And, speaking of that, I have a proposition for you.”

He squinted his eyes, clearly suspicious. “What kind of proposition?”

“If you get on the podium today… I’ll give you a special gift,” you said, leaning slightly toward him, your voice low but filled with mystery.

“What gift?” He looked at you, nervousness clear on his face, but at the same time, unable to hide his curiosity.

“It’s a surprise,” you replied, winking conspiratorially.

“Y/N…” He sighed, clearly trying to keep his composure. “You know you didn’t have to come here for that, right?”

“I know,” you answered, your smile growing wider. “But what’s the fun in cheering from a distance? Besides, you might not know, but I’m great at picking out gifts.”

Oscar seemed like he was about to say something, but one of the engineers appeared out of nowhere, calling him for the final pre-race meeting. He sighed in visible relief, almost grabbing the opportunity to escape.

“I have to go,” he said quickly.

“Good luck, Osc,” you replied, not hiding your satisfaction. “I’ll be waiting on the podium. And after the race… the gift is all yours.”

He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before disappearing toward the engineer. You watched as he walked away, even more flushed than before, and let out a soft laugh.

This time, he had no way of backing out of the promise. And, knowing Oscar, the thought of a “special gift” would be enough to keep him thinking about you the whole time—on or off the track.

The end of the race was electrifying. You, as usual, were glued to the screen, following the final minutes with the anticipation of someone on the track. The last lap was a mix of tension and excitement. Lando crossed the finish line in first, and you couldn’t hold back your shout of joy. But what really made you jump out of your seat was when Oscar secured third place, holding off a fierce battle until the final flag.

“Yes! I knew you could do it, Osc!” you murmured to yourself, smiling proudly as you watched the celebration on the screen.

Soon, you were following the team toward the podium. The paddock was a party, with team members rushing to celebrate their drivers. You blended in with Lando’s engineers and mechanics but kept your eyes fixed on Oscar as he got out of the car, exhausted but visibly satisfied.

The celebration on the podium was contagious. Champagne flew from side to side, and Lando’s smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire circuit. But your gaze never left Oscar, who looked more shy than ever as he raised his trophy. Even amid the celebration, he shot furtive glances at you in the crowd, which only made your smile grow.

As soon as the ceremony was over, everyone went back to the garage. The team was euphoric, celebrating the incredible result of the race. You found Lando first, who came running toward you with his trophy in hand.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, still sweaty and covered in champagne.

“You were amazing! Doesn’t even seem like my brother,” you joked, laughing as he hugged you and got champagne on your clothes.

“And Oscar, huh?” Lando commented, winking at you. “Are you proud of your favorite driver?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Don’t start, Lando.”

After the initial excitement, you began preparing to leave. Lando had some team commitments to take care of before heading back to the hotel, so you walked through the paddock, waiting for him. You bumped into Oscar, who seemed more relaxed, still talking to a few engineers.

“Congrats, Osc!” you said, with a genuine smile.

He quickly turned his head, as if he hadn’t expected you to appear there. “Oh, thanks,” he replied, a shy smile forming on his lips.

“I told you’d make it to the podium. Now you know what that means, right?” you teased, leaning slightly forward.

Oscar turned bright red, looking away at anything that wasn’t you. “I… think so?”

“Great.” You winked and walked away before he could respond, knowing exactly the effect you were having.

After a while, Lando finally appeared. “Ready to go?”

“More than ready.” You smiled, following him to the car that would take you back to the hotel.

Back at the hotel, the exhaustion from the race still lingered, but the excitement pulsed even stronger. Lando was sprawled on the couch in his room, talking nonstop about the race and, of course, the party that was about to happen.

“I need to get ready. What, you’ve got about 30 minutes before I drag you to the party?” you teased, grabbing your bag.

“Thirty? You’re being way too optimistic,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be able to get ready in 30 minutes even if Oscar asked you to.”

“Oh, Lando…” You smiled slyly as you walked toward the door. “For Oscar, I’d do it in fifteen.”

Lando’s expression was priceless, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You walked out laughing and went straight to your room, already imagining how you’d make the night unforgettable. After all, a P1 for Lando and a P3 for Oscar was more than enough reason to celebrate in style.

You chose a stunning black Versace dress, fitting just right, and paired it with high heels from the same brand. But the special touch was in the details that no one would see—or rather, that almost no one would see: a papaya-colored lingerie set, matching the team’s colors, chosen especially for the occasion.

The team had reserved a table in the VIP section of a luxurious club. The atmosphere was pure euphoria—champagne, loud music, and laughter filled the air. As soon as they arrived, you made sure to sit strategically next to Oscar, who seemed out of place, unsure of what to do with all the attention around him.

“Osc, relax,” you murmured in his ear, smiling as you noticed he seemed more nervous than he had been during the race.

“I’m relaxed,” he replied, but the hand holding his drink was trembling slightly.

The conversation flowed with the team, but you made sure to provoke Oscar in little moments. You brushed your leg against his, made comments about how well he did in the race, and, of course, mentioned the “special present.”

“If I knew a P3 would make you this happy, I would’ve tried harder earlier,” he joked, trying to appear more confident.

“Oh, Osc, you have no idea,” you replied, smiling with an enigmatic tone.

As time went by, more people started to drift away from the table to dance or talk in other corners. Before long, it was just the two of you. That was your cue.

“So, Osc…” You leaned in a little closer, the loud music muffling the conversation. “About my present… do you want to know what it is?”

Oscar blushed instantly, looking away as he always did when he felt uncomfortable. “I… I don’t think I should ask.”

“Oh, you definitely should.” Your voice dropped low, almost a whisper, as your eyes challenged his. “I did something special to celebrate your P3. And maybe to encourage you to get more podiums in the future.”

He swallowed nervously. “I need… to go to the bathroom,” he said quickly, standing up before you could react.

You smiled to yourself. “So predictable,” you murmured as you followed him with determined steps.

Oscar looked genuinely surprised when you appeared in the hallway, blocking his escape route. “Seriously, Y/N? I just wanted a minute of peace.”

“No chance.” You took a step forward, cornering him against the wall, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “I followed you to show you my present.”

Oscar looked at you, clearly uncomfortable, but his curiosity won out. “I don’t know if I want to see that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

You laughed softly, almost amused, and slid the strap of your dress down, revealing a glimpse of the papaya lingerie, the color of the team. “See? Something special for my favorite driver.”

For a moment, Oscar was speechless, his face turning a deeper red than usual. But something seemed to have shifted in him, as if the provocation had awakened something. He took a step forward, closing the distance between you. The look he had now wasn’t shy, but challenging, almost provocative.

“You like to tease, don’t you?” His voice was low but filled with a newfound confidence that you didn’t expect. “But you know what, Y/N? You can’t last three minutes when the roles are reversed.”

The smile on his face made you hesitate for a second, and he immediately seized the opportunity. Without saying another word, he pulled you closer, his hands firmly gripping your waist. The warmth of his body against yours made your heart race, and before you could say anything, Oscar’s lips found yours.

It was an intense, heated kiss, as if he had been swept away by the wave of provocation you had started. Oscar's hands glided over your skin, as if memorizing every part of you, while you couldn't think clearly anymore.

When he pulled away slightly, his eyes glowing in a way you didn't recognize, you were speechless, your body still burning from his proximity and touch.

He leaned in again, whispering in your ear:

"Lost your voice, baby? Always knew you were just talk."

Your breathing was uneven, but you could only stare at him, completely lost.

He grinned to the side, satisfied with the effect he was having.

It didn't take long for him to attack you with even more intense kisses.

You were getting addicted to the taste, to the feeling of being touched by him.

One of his hands slid up your thigh, slowly rising inside your dress. He squeezed your butt firmly, and you couldn't contain a moan. He played with the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down.

"What are you doing?" you asked, breathless. "Someone might see."

"Now you're afraid of being seen?" he continued, dragging the fabric down your leg. "You never cared before."

He knelt down, completely removing the piece of lingerie.

"But don't worry, baby!" He stood up, pressing his body against yours again.

"I'm not going to do anything here."

He kissed you quickly and pulled away, looking into your eyes while slipping the piece into his pocket.

"If you want it back, find me in my room later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you there, completely speechless and hungry for more.

[trivia-yandere]

That was a mistake 😭. I meant jk as a friend of oc’s elder brother. I know you already have off limits but I kinda crave a non con with manipulating shif

okay so basically a yandere version of "off limits"?? coming right up!!

twisted

jungkook has been getting you out of trouble for as long as he can remember - and he was tired of doing it without anything in return.

word count: 3.944

warning: power imbalance, smut, police officer jungkook, yandere tendencies, blackmail, dubcon/noncon, alcohol intake/intoxication, age difference, unsolicited touching/rubbing/groping, nipple sucking, fingering, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, coercion, manipulation, overstimulation, read the warnings and dont cancel me,

For as long as Jungkook has known you, you were a bit of a trouble maker. 

Jungkook first met you after becoming friends with your older brother. You and him were opposites, yet close. While you would often skip classes sometimes to do God knows what, he never had. He was always on top of his priorities, graduating with honors.

You, however, did enough to get to the next level. Even if your brother didn’t approve of your way of life, he did support you in whatever you did.

In a way.

Your brother despised your friend group. They weren’t good influences on you. They often dragged you down with them - surrounding you with boys older than you that always prompted him to keep an eye out on you. 

Him and his friends - Jungkook mainly. It was a full time job looking for you after you snuck out to go to parties. Prying the filthy hands of college boys off of you, all the while telling them that you were indeed under age and not even in High School. It always made you shove him away, but he wasn’t upset by it.

When Jungkook graduated alongside his friends and your brother, it made things easier on you. You could party without having them look for you because they had their own things to worry about. Your brother was in the works of being a firefighter, Jungkook a police officer.

It wasn’t until your Junior year when you ran into trouble and needed a certain police officer to get you out of trouble. Your heart was pounding and your eyes were blinded by tears when you ended up in the back of a police car and brought to the precinct. 

It was Jungkook who got you out of that, assuring that you were someone he knew and it wouldn’t happen again. The officer who brought you in had dropped you into Jungkook’s care without any worries, claiming he had better things to do.

It wasn’t the last time Jungkook abused his power to get you out of trouble - or wasn’t the last time you abused Jungkook.

Traffic stops ? You gave them Jungkook’s name.

A man got too handsy? Jungkook was on speed dial and he always handled it.

Firefighters were cool - but police officers were better.

Your senior year was when you took your schooling more seriously. Only because your brother promised that you could live with him instead of your parents. He stated he could get you into a college close to his apartment with connections he knew and that was all you needed.

Jungkook had attended your graduation, late and in police gear. Sometimes he’s grateful for the shades he wears outside. He gets the chance to look at your figure as you hug your friends, only sporting the cap and not the gown. Your dress wasn’t tight, nor was it too short. It stops a few inches above your knee. It flows in the light wind, giving his covered eyes a view of your thighs beneath the dress that’s supposed to be hidden.

“Congrats.”

Jungkook removed his shades as he approached you. He offered a short smile to you, one that you return. Your mother is taking pictures, proud of the way she now has two children who're on the right track for once.

You wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck, excited for the next chapter - and  possibly for more freedom that he’ll have to get you out of trouble from. Jungkook’s hands wrap around you slowly, but not too much to raise any alarms from his friend. Your breasts are against his chest and he can feel the way they rub as you hug him tightly.

The thoughts Jungkook has for you aren’t sane. They shouldn’t be there. He was older than you  - not old enough to raise alarms - and he’s known you since childhood. He’s watched you grow from a child to now a woman, your body forming over time. You grew into your womanly figure, one that he oftentimes feels bad about looking at.

As time passed, Jungkook began to ponder if you were teasing him. The amount of times he has gotten a call from you to pick you and your friends up from bars, far too drunk out your minds to fully understand what was happening. The way you wrap your arms around him and have him carry you to the police cruiser. Dealing with drunk women wasn’t fun, but at least he was on the clock doing it.

Jungkook recalls the times he’d drop you off at your brother’s while he was working nights and you’d hold onto him so close. The fruity lemon drops and perfume radiating off of your skin.

You were completely comfortable with Jungkook, not seeing him as any sort of threat. Upon entering your bedroom, you’d tear your clothes off without a care. You hadn’t even bothered to see if he’s left you.

Jungkook recalls the way his mouth salivated as you plop onto your bed, eyes closing and mumbling drunkenly. You had rolled around, your panties and bra both lace and doing little to hide anything from him.

Jungkook shouldn’t have, but your skin looked so smooth and soft. His hand starts at your ankles, slowly making their way up your leg, past your knee and towards your thigh. You’re murmuring so low, not forming words with how intoxicated you were. 

You were teasing him - Jungkook knows this now. Your legs move, thighs widening to give him a glimpse between your legs. He couldn’t help but just have a touch. His soft fingertips ghost past your inner thigh until he’s touching your barely clothed clit. He hums to himself as his fingertips rub ever so gently.

Jungkook knows this is wrong. You were off limits to him. This wasn’t bro code - but he couldn’t help it. Not when you presented yourself to him. A soft moan comes from your lips that tells him how much you actually enjoyed this.

So Jungkook continues. He kneels by your bed. His breathing increases, his fingers continuing to rub circles onto your clit until he feels the damp spot. You were enjoying this more than he anticipated.

It was a matter of seconds, Jungkook had forced your lacy bra down to reveal your breast. His mouth was around your nipple, suckling greedily as his fingers inched inside of you. You’re squelching, pussy squeezing around his fingers.

Jungkook understands fully that you loved this. You loved the way his fingers took you, plunging in and out of you. You couldn’t stop moaning and groaning, your back arching slightly. You were so adorable, he thinks, eyes closed because it was hard to keep them open.

Your nipple pops from Jungkook’s lips. His eyes glances from your squelching pussy to your pretty face. His lips ghost past your lips, wanting to kiss you but pondering if maybe it was too much. But, when your eyes open slowly, not focusing on anything, he decides that you want him to.

So Jungkook does. His lips pressed against yours, tasting the lemon drops you love so much right on your lips. His uniform pants are tight with how hard his cock is and he wants to plunge it right into you.

You’d let him, Jungkook thinks. You want him to.

However, Jungkook doesn’t. He loves you enough for you to be more coherent. Your stomach sinks in and out, more moans coming from your lips. Your thighs are shaking and he knows fully that your pleasure was becoming greater - greater and greater until you cum all over him.

You hadn’t remembered anything of that night - or any other night Jungkook had with you. You had continued to call him every time you needed him after a long night of partying. Like always, your brother wasn’t home and he felt more comfortable to follow you to your room.

Just as Jungkook is recalling the time, a car that is familiar to him flashes right past him. His car is parked on the side of the dark road, his lights off. He had a quota to meet.

And it appeared that today, you of all people, were going to be a part of said quota.

Jungkook turns his lights on, throws his car in drive and begins to drive down the same road. He turns his sirens on and watches the way you stop abruptly to the side.

You had to be drunk. It was 2 a.m and it made sense why you were outside. Ever since you got yourself a car - at your brother's expense - you hadn’t called him as much. But that's alright because the universe was now looking out for him.

“K-Kookie?”

Your voice cracks, your eyes softening. You thought it was someone else but of course, it was Jungkook. Again. 

“Do you know how fast you were driving?” Jungkook asks. He had since turned off his body-cam.

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel. “No.” you murmur, your body warm with embarrassment.

“Have you been drinking?”

You swallow, sniffling. You take a deep breath.

“Step out the vehicle.” Jungkook takes a step back.

You flinch at Jungkook’s tone. He’s never spoken to you like a police officer before. “W-What? Why?”

“Step. Out. The. Vehicle.” Jungkook repeats slowly, voice serious.

You were tipsy, it’s obvious. Jungkook leaves you leaning against your car as he goes back to his cruiser to get a breathalyzer. When he returns, your eyes are sad watching him. “K-Kookie-”

“Blow.” Jungkook demands, holding out the breathalyzer.

You do, eyes looking up at him with those same sad eyes. Jungkook wants to laugh at how pathetic you looked. Your actions have consequences and finally, you were beginning to realize that. 

You watch as Jungkook looks at the breathalyzer before his eyes flicker up to you. His eyes are so dark, you think, and full of disappointment. It makes you feel small underneath his gaze. In highschool, you remembered the eyebrow piercing he had that you thought was cute. In college, he added a lip piercing - one that had your friends swooning. 

Your eyes trail to his uniform, now fully witnessing just how good Jungkook looked in it. It’s warm out tonight, so he’s not sporting his jacket. You always loved when he wore his sleeves up to his elbows so you can see his tattoos.

Jungkook doesn’t tell you that, though tipsy, you pass the breathalyzer. Instead, his eyes bore into yours so hard that your bottom lip quivers. He’s always gone easy on you - even while your brother wasn’t. He was there to defend you and treat you sweetly because you were just a girl

Now, however, Jungkook was tired of not getting anything in return.

“You could’ve hit someone.” Jungkook speaks. “Do you know how many drunk driving accidents kill innocents a year?”

“I’m not…” you take a deep breath in hopes to calm your beating heart. “...I’m not that drunk, Kookie, I-”

“Officer Jeon.” Jungkook corrects.

Your mouth drops slightly.

“I have the authority to arrest you right now.” Jungkook says. His heart does jolt when you begin to cry, but he doesn’t immediately go to comfort you - not now. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

The waterworks come full force now. You probably looked ridiculous now, crying like a child. But you were a bit tipsy and your heart was beating too fast. You felt dumb for thinking Jungkook was going to continue to give you a pass and take advantage of his authority.

“I-I’m sorry, Kookie!” you hiccup,  immediately crashing into his chest. Your hands tug at his uniform shirt. “Please-”

Jungkook pushes you away, forcing you to turn around. Your chest presses against your car and you yelp, your tears flowing down your cheeks. 

“I think I’ve created a monster in you, Y/N. These are the consequences of my own actions.”

Jungkook doesn’t add the cuffs around your wrist, but you’re crying so much that you’d think he read you your rights and told you that you were being arrested on the spot. He doesn’t laugh like he wants to.

“You use me to your advantage all the time.” Jungkook continues, holding your wrist tighter in his grasp. “I’ve allowed you to get off time and time again. And for what? You never learn your lesson.”

You sniffle, your chest rumbling with pathetic sobs. You want to wipe your tears away, but you can’t. Was Jungkook really going to arrest you? Were you going to sit in jail?

What would your brother think about you driving under the influence? You had to be drunker than you thought if Jungkook was doing this.

“I’m sorry.” you say so softly, full of regret and guilt that it causes Jungkook to almost release your wrists. 

Almost.

“You know I love you, Y/N. I don’t want to do this.” 

You stop sniffling when you hear Jungkook’s tone softening. Your bottle lip continues to tremble, regret flowing through you at how you managed to disappoint your closest friend. How you completely abused his love for you for your own selfish ways.

“I don’t want to put these cuffs on you and put you in the back of my cruiser,” Jungkook continues, stepping closer to you. Just the act alone frightens you - you’ve never been in the back of his cruiser before, always the front. He allowed you to turn his sirens on and off drunkenly one night and you thought it was the next best thing. “and detain you at the precinct. You’ll have a dui on your license and you won’t be able to drive…”

You blink a few tears away. Your brother and parents would kill you if that happened. You were already on thin ice with your brother and you had since promised you’d be better.

You were doing a terrible job.

“...You can do something for me, though, right?” Jungkook’s is even closer now. His knee goes between your thighs and forces them apart. Without warning, you feel him press directly against your ass.

You’re silent, unsure if this was a hallucination or not. You had to be drunker than you thought.

“I’ve let you get away with everything, Y/N, you can give me something in return. To make this go away.”

Jungkook’s breath tickles the skin on your neck, so warm. You smell the caramel on him and you know how he keeps a few of them in his cruiser to munch on during long nights.

“K-Kookie?”

Your voice is so small and startled, afraid to move. It causes Jungkook to press himself further against you, his obvious bulge twitching against your ass. His hands hold onto your wrists tighter.

“I-I can’t.”

Jungkook wants to laugh. You can’t?

You can’t?

Jungkook couldn’t stop his paroles to make sure you got home safety - but he had. He couldn’t keep risking his job to get you out of trouble every time you fucked up, but he had. But here you stand, drunk and crying and you couldn’t do anything for him?

You were selfish.

“I’m s-seeing someone and I-”

Jungkook decides that he doesn’t care. One hand swiftly snatches your dress and pulls it up. “You’re so selfish, Y/N, after everything I do for you.” he spits, his soft tone gone and now replaced with a much harsher tone. “Who are you seeing? What’s his name?”

You gasp when Jungkook’s hand slides past  the thong you’re wearing, fingers hooking beneath it. He snaps it angrily - you were dressed so sluttish for him but claiming to be seeing someone. It didn’t make an ounce of sense. 

Jungkook doesn’t care who the boy is, but he makes sure to remember his name once you utter it - in case he came across him one day. His greedy fingers slide past your clit, rubbing small circles on it. 

“Kook-”

“You’re going to do what I say, Y/N, or I’m going to arrest you.” 

Your eyes widen at how harsh Jungkook speaks. Your thighs want to close, but his knee is blocking it. 

“You love me, don’t you? I’ve protected you for years, Y/N. It’s the least you can do.”

You’re so wet, Jungkook thinks, this excites you just as much as it excites him. The act of doing this late into the night, no one around, but completely in the open. He knows that not many cars come down this road, if any at all - but still, the sheer possibility of someone coming and witnessing him fuck you is highly exciting. 

“I’m doing this because I love you, Y/N. I want you to be better.” Jungkook’s tongue is invasive, licking the rim of your ear. “And I know you want this, too. You’re so wet.”

You’re entirely stiff, afraid to move or do anything. Your thighs shake slowly with the feelings of his fingers upon you. He rubs, speed increasing by the second. Your throbbing clit excites him just as much as your wetness.

Your eyes are wide, your tears slowly drying up and you’re left shocked. The night is so quiet, nothing but the police cruiser engine is heard. There aren't any stars in the sky, nor is the moon shining.

Jungkook’s fingers ease closer to your tight hole, groaning. He wonders if you were ever this wet for someone else like you were for him. If you remembered or not, he does recall just how soaked you were that night in your bedroom. The way your thighs opened wider for him to pleasure you more, your lips parting to form such tired moans.

“Are you afraid?” Jungkook murmurs, inching his fingers inside of you. The way you squeeze around him is so familiar. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Y/N, you know I’ll never hurt you.”

You release a soft sob, heart pounding through your ears. If you were asked this question any other time, you’d respond truthfully; how could you be afraid of someone that’s always made you feel safe. Yet here you two are, in the middle of the night, completely alone. He was like a wolf and you were the lamb, completely vulnerable.

“I love you, Y/N, you know that, right?” Jungkook begins to pump his fingers in you, his body shivering with just how tight and wet you are - so inviting to him that he knows you’re enjoying this more than you’re willing to admit.

“Kook…” you murmur, nearly inaudible. “p-please stop…”

This upsets Jungkook. His fingers indeed stop pumping for a moment to process your words. He closes his eyes for a moment, his anger slowly rising.

You aren’t allowed any time to process. Jungkook was trying to be nice to you because he loved you. He had enough respect for you as his best friend's sister - so much so that he wasn’t going to arrest you for driving under the influence.

But now you were just being selfish and he hated selfish individuals.

Jungkook removes his fingers from you and for a moment, you think it’s all over. Your heart swells and you’re ready to put this all behind you.

Then, you feel cold metal around your wrists. Jungkook cuffs you, both of your wrists bound behind your back. Your chest is still against your car and you’re ready to cry out once more. “Kook-”

You yelp when you feel Jungkook’s bare cock rub between your folds now. His left hand grips your hips to keep you right in place. Your breath hitches when you feel him at your hole, your body warm with intrusive embarrassment.

Jungkook loved you enough to not be rough with you, but you did this to yourself. It was a privilege to get off easy time and time again, and he wants you to know that.

Jungkook’s thrusts are punishing, pumping in and out of you without any mercy. The street lights are dim and yellow, but it does you the right amount of justice. He witnesses the way your pussy glistens with arousal from the cock you pretend not to enjoy.

Your eyes are fluttering in an attempt to stay open, your mouth wide open in shock, gasping breaths released every second due to his cock plunging in and out of you.

“I didn’t want to do this, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts, his hands grasping your cuff wrists. He pulls you back as his hips rut, cock springing in and out of your warm pussy. “But you left me no choice. Isn’t this the least you could do for me?”

You feel as if your body is betraying you in the way your legs shake with pleasure that you didn’t ask for. Your mind screams at you to react, but you don’t. Not in the way you should, at least. This was Jungkook and you trusted him with your life and the naive part of you believed that even now, he couldn’t truly hurt you.

Right?

“Y-Yes,” you moan, unsure of what else to do or say. You were completely and utterly vulnerable. 

You’re squeezing around his cock so tight that Jungkook is positive you love the way his cock feels. He leans forward to press a tender kiss against your neck. One so soft that it goes against his harsh words and punishing hips.

You’re cumming before you know it, arousal leaking down your thighs. Jungkook’s cock hitting your g-spot over and over again. You couldn’t contain the moans any longer as it was becoming too much. 

Your mind is blank and you’re sure when this was all over, you were going to reflect on it and blame yourself for being in this situation to begin with. 

“You came all over yourself, Y/N, I knew you’d love it.” Jungkook chuckles darkly from behind you, sloppy thrusts slamming you against your car. “It’s my turn,” he grunts.

Jungkook’s pounding doesn’t stop until he’s cumming right inside of you, twitching when he does so. It takes a moment for him to pull out of you and regain his breath, but when he does he makes sure to make himself presentable. He pulls your dress down after pulling your panties back up.

The cuffs are off of you within a matter of seconds and Jungkook turns you around to face him. He has to look in your eyes to see if you despise him, an action he hope isn’t true, but he would understand if it was. Jungkook places a gentle hand behind your head when your eyes meet his, so sad and full of despair.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in his chest. He’s rubbing your back so soothingly that you find comfort in his embrace, your mind confused in what is happening and how he could change so fast. “you aren’t in any trouble.”

Jungkook holds you like that until he feels your heart beat against his soften. He leans away, offering you a soft and kind smile that he didn’t display when he pulled you over. You swallow, licking your chapped lips. 

“Let me take you home.” Jungkook murmurs. A hand places itself onto your cheek and his thumb rubs across the tear stains. “We’ll come get your car tomorrow, okay?”

You don’t fight Jungkook as he tugs you towards his police cruiser. He opens the passenger door and allows you in before closing it. He gets into his side and gives you another glance. He takes his job seriously - especially when it comes to you. It was always his responsibility to protect you.

headcannon

@minshookie29 @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @crisle19 @whothefuckisthishoe @mar-lo-pap

[pricegouge]

price x pregnant!f!reader meetcute drabble i whipped up on my lunch dedicated entirely to the girl at work who's too heavily pregnant to fit her scrubs rn. john price would love you, girl, keep your chin up

The worst part wasn't actually the discomfort of the papery material, nor the cheap elastic waistline which dug into your plush sides and itched like a sonofabitch. It wasn't even the embarrassment of having to track down your lead at the start of your shift and shamefacedly admit that you could no longer fit into your designated scrub pants and ask if he could maybe please find some spares somewhere? (He couldn't, because apparently no one on the team before you had ever fallen ill with a baby in the belly or even just gained a little weight.)

No, the worst part was the noise.

It hadn't been something you'd even considered until you were already barging into your first patient's room, swishing away with each step. Mr. Jeffreys had grumbled in his sleep, eye peeking open just as you'd leaned over him to start your morning check. Enough ruckus, woman. You'd thought he was just being irritable, a common enough occurrence, but then it happened again and again, each new room bringing another grumpy occupant, displeased about being woken up so far ahead of breakfast. Still, you almost preferred that to the early risers, the old biddies who would turn to greet you, already alert, take one look at you with your swollen belly overhanging the thin paper pants they'd made you wear over your reliable leggings, and start cackling loud enough to draw attention from the other orderlies. 

You weren't the first pregnant woman to outgrow her pants, but you were perhaps among the first to have done so in a professional setting. 

At least it got easier the more the day dragged on, quippy remarks coming more naturally to you the more you had them levelled at you in kind. You'd even let a little boy doodle on your shin, an attempt to keep his mind of his mother groaning in pain, attempting to work through a kidney stone. You're fairly sure you're rocking an Incredible Hulk there now, but it was a bit hard to tell with the way the magic markers had bled across the tyvek weave. 

"Missed your calling." 

You frown down at the man before you, thick brows only slightly pinched despite the way you knew his shoulder must be killing him. GSW. Didn't get many of them 'round here, but you'd seen enough hunting accidents to figure out the good stuff didn't always cut it. And this didn't seem like your average misfire, or pulled-shot graze. He'd been the talk of the nurses station when the call had come through to prep for him, bullet taken straight on, center mass. He wasn't from here, didn't seem to know anyone from here. No one believed it was a simple hunting accident, but the authorities had come and gone, sent skittering by a rather severe woman yielding a badge no one had gotten a good look at. No arrests, minimal testimonies. Rumors had sprouted roots, grew too tall too quickly to be believable. You'd heard everything from a jilted lover to some sort of military coup, but you hadn't placed much stock in anything other than the three letters which had remained unchanged on his chart since the moment he'd been admitted, and then later the surgeon's notes.

GSW. Successful operation.

That had only been two days ago. You'd been in his room once before, set about the same task. He'd been fast asleep, the handsome man who's been visiting offering charming but ultimately short conversation. It hadn't bothered you as you'd been in a rush, and you'd known full well the stress loved ones usually felt, trying to ensure the best possible rest for their injured loved ones. 

He had no guard dog today, no one to send you packing when your putzing made too much noise. And now you've woken him, poor man.

"Pardon?" 

Blue eyes blink open, cloudy with pain and the influence of strong meds but surprisingly alert. They flick down to your leg, shoulders tensing a bit as he lifts his head to see properly. "Pretty tree you've made there." 

You can't help but laugh. "Seems I'm right where I should be, then, seeing as that's supposed to be the Hulk. I think," you add once you've earned a smirk.

"Can't even remember what it is you've drawn? You the reason I can't find a comfortable position? Been stealing my morphine?"

"I wish," you sigh, pat your belly dramatically. "But they say it's bad for baby."

His brows lift into his hairline, pain momentarily forgotten as he looks you over again, as if seeing you for the first time. You realize pretty quickly that he's one of those people, the crinkling around his eyes revealing him as the type. It's one of the weirdest parts of being pregnant, the strangers who look at you with awe, as if you've hung the moon. You try not to think too much of it, don't like imagining couples who've tried for years when all you've managed to do was slip up your birth control one time, like a fool. This man isn't wearing a ring, but that doesn't mean much. Most women who carry on after you are single, too. At least he's not trying to touch your belly.

"Is that why you're half way to a paper gown? Come wandering from maternity?"

"Har, har," you deadpan, waving your stethoscope at him although you know full well he's seen it - hard to miss, resting atop your swollen tits. "No, I've simply grown too fat for my scrubs. And I think my lead's having too much fun embarrassing me about it."

He frowns, somehow vaguely patronizing even while heavily medicated. "No spares for someone in your condition?"

"Nope! Apparently I'm lucky enough to be the only fertile little heifer ever on the team," you snark, and then squint at his monitor when his pulse spikes unexpectedly. 

"Sorry," he mumbles - odd - and when you check, you notice some color to his ears. He clears his throat to distract you from fretting, though the softness is gone from his eyes again, replaced by an implacable type of tension. "Perhaps they're simply not used to expectant mothers working so late into their term?" 

Ah. At last, the well-meaning concern. It grates at you worse than usual, the ease and simplicity (albeit annoyance) of your silly morning falling apart in seconds. Perhaps it's that, the whiplash, that has you huffing irritably, mood plummeting. "Well. Someone's got a pay my bills," you gripe, snapping the claw of his clipboard just to work out some aggression. Maybe it's the hormones.

There's a huff of breath, almost as animated as yours. When you look to make sure he's not aspirating or something, your new friend's absurd mustache is twitching. "Well. That's what Mr. Pretty Nurse is for, no?" 

The phrasing makes you smile, hands gentling as you busy yourself with his monitor. This is familiar ground, at least, a path well-tread which you'd like navigating with a conversational partner who would call you Ms. Pretty Nurse. "Sure," you concede, tapping away at his station to check the trend of his vitals. Steady, even. All night. Like he was practiced at taking bullets. "You ever see him, you tell him he owes me a back log of bills, alright?" In truth, your 'mister' never was a mister, just some guy you'd been trying to blow off steam with. He'd cut and run the second you'd brought up the pregnancy, but you'd decided to keep it after some thought and had never followed up with him, deciding it ultimately was no longer his concern. You harbored no ill will, really, but the dead beat dad was a common schtick, an easy conversational piece when simply shooting the shit with talkative patients. If the worst part about pregnancy was the noisy pants (and the morning sickness, and the belly hair, and the leaky nipples and the -) then the best part was surely the built-in small talk.

"Be sure to let him know," chops murmurs, voice tight. You check his file again, correct your mental dub with his real name, John Price. Traditional, like the neat beard hiding the growing color in his cheeks. When he speaks again, his voice is slightly rougher. "Who did that, then?" 

You think he's pointing to your belly, far too forward, but when you check you see his finger aims lower, towards the art that started this conversation. "Kid over in pre-op. Was upset watching his mom writhing around. Passing a stone," you supply with an exaggerated whisper, as if telling him some scandalous secret.

John grins, soft again. "You'll be good at it, then."

"Pardon?" you ask absently, watching as his heartbeat seems to flutter weakly. 

"Said 'too round for scrubs,'" he chuckles. "Good job, mama."

You scoff, scandalized, but when you turn to him you find he's got that far off look in his eye, a sharp contrast to the lucidity of his speech. That does it. You tut, leaning over him to check his forehead with the back of your hand. And outdated practice, sure, but still useful in a pinch. He doesn't feel overly warm, but his focus has slipped back into that slight haziness, blissed out and vaguely absent, staring a good half a foot below your eyes.

"Mr. Price -," you start but he interjects.

"Just John, love."

"Sure. John. Are you feeling okay?" 

Eyes crinkling again, he gives you an unbearably soft smile, at odds with everything you've managed to glean from his chart. "Never better, doll."

banner by @/cafekitsune

[whetstonefires]

Thinking about the parallels set up between Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu, and how actually most of them are oddly specious.

The sketch of the backstory lines up, but on close examination they're mirror images.

Wei Wuxian wasn't kicked out of his sect, he left it. Wei Wuxian didn't hate the house he grew up in, he loved it, and getting the people there killed was the absolute last purpose for which his dark powers were ever intended.

Jiang Cheng was no Mo Ziyuan--his jealousy was a complicated thing all twisted up with love, and while he would lash out at Wei Wuxian both as a casual means of shit communication and more damagingly in moments of high tension, he had neither the desire nor the ability to bully him, and in general respected his boundaries almost too well.

When Wei Wuxian destroyed himself about Jiang Cheng, it was to give him cultivation, and protect his life and happiness. He would never have killed him.

Madam Yu was a domineering aunt-like figure, who hated Wei Wuxian for reasons of reputation, and because she had resented his dead mother, but she crucially did not have the power to actually disrupt his lifestyle to any significant extent.

Mo Xuanyu was shut up in a small room to rot; Wei Wuxian didn't even attend classes unless he wanted to. Mo Xuanyu was weak and disliked; Wei Wuxian was brilliant and popular.

Mo Xuanyu's uncle is a cipher of a figure, without character or agency, a nonentity who is resented to death apparently mostly for what he didn't do; in theory he is the master of the house, but he certainly never protected his wife and son's punching bag from them.

And this is what got me thinking along this track: because people keep interpreting Jiang Fengmian as this, as exactly like Mo Xuanyu's nameless uncle, a nonentity who lets his wife make all the decisions, and is contemptible therefore.

He shows up in fic characterized this way all the time, handled narratively as a gap rather than a person, an absence where there should have been a parent, and it's...totally inaccurate? The man only has a few scenes but the things that are most firmly established about him are:

he regularly goes out of his way to protect Wei Wuxian

he's extremely fond of Wei Wuxian

he cares a lot about ethical behavior

he's conflict-avoidant and gentle

he can and will overrule Yu Ziyuan when he's made up his mind, and there's nothing she can do about it

his communication skills are mediocre at best

he doesn't understand jiang cheng

he has a dumb sense of humor

Now almost none of this made it into cql besides point 4 and maybe 6, 5 is technically there but buried by the cinematic framing, so I totally get why the fandom on the whole struggles to characterize him well, and it's easier to write him off.

But it keeps bugging me to see him and Yu Ziyuan squashed into the mold of the Mo, because not only is that boring and reductive and kind-of-missing-the-point, it's like. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's characterization suffers a lot when you alter the environment and take away the influence exerted by their shared father figure.

Jiang Fengmian was Wei Wuxian's primary adult role model and it shows.

Jiang Cheng's relationship to his own sense of ethics is fraught because 'teaching him good ethics' was his dad's number one parenting goal, but they misunderstood each other so badly (partly because Yu Ziyuan kept loudly misinterpreting them to each other, which is so realistic I can't get over it, that's exactly how it works good lord) that Jiang Cheng has a direct association between the concept of 'doing the right thing even when it's hard' and a feeling of personal inadequacy.

The fact that Wei Wuxian got their dad-person's approval for being exactly himself and Jiang Cheng not only couldn't do that, he couldn't even get that same level of approval when he really pushed himself to rise to expectations, because Jiang Fengmian did not intend that warmth as a 'reward,' and so never realized he was withholding it, and therefore misunderstood Jiang Cheng's visible jealousy as a dangerous sense of personal entitlement that had to be carefully restrained, which reinforced his distrust of Jiang-Cheng-the-person and fed into a shitty loop where they were less and less able to relate to one another--that's fantastic. That's so human! I love it so much.

Both their failures are their own but at the same time it would never have gotten so bad if Yu Ziyuan hadn't been interjecting herself in there, in the middle of their relationship, fucking it up. That's family, baby.

I would ofc like if there was more fic engaging with the subtleties of all this because it's so good, mxtx did such elegant work here and it is not sufficiently appreciated. But it's the kind of thing that's hard to write good fic about; I am struggling with it myself.

So mostly I wish there was just more fic that didn't impose Mo Xuanyu's cliche angst backstory on Wei Wuxian, who has a whole different thing going on.

[sparkling-moonbeam]

No Innuendo (Ray x Reader)

(ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡʜɪᴍ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜɪᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴅᴇᴅɪᴄᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.)

DETAILS

Genre: ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ (ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ)

Gender: ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ

Warnings: ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ, ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ

Word Count: 3135 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

Drained. If he were asked how he felt years ago, that would be his answer. It was draining to keep up appearances for the sake of being the shining bright hero. He felt tired and drained. At one point, he was having a dilemma with who he was. The dread of being in a constant battle against himself was slowly eating him. 

A star should shine, they say. But he felt like he was drowning. Amidst the popularity and persona he's portraying, something 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 was stirring within him. It's not like the public knows what his power is. Who knows what would happen if it ever got leaked? Would they still stare at him in awe? Or are they going to all turn away and look for another star?

Those were his thoughts years ago when he slowly accepted his fate as a hero. But who could've thought? Not him. He thought he would always be that "hero" then. A shining star in the sky, being stared upon by millions of people and being idolized like he's a god. Shining but alone.

Then you came along. No, you were just passing by. Wrong term again. You were robbing a house years ago. He just happened to be there. He was confused. Seeing a thief playing with the housecat they're supposed to be stealing from was never a sight he expected.

And shit.

How dare his lips crack a smile. How dare his body stay frozen and only watch you from afar. 

Yes, he won't lie.

What he did after that is...stalkerish. Tracking you down, trying to find an opportunity to get closer to you. He could easily do that as a hero. Finding you and using his fame to track you is easier but no, that would be too intimidating for you.

A lot of things have happened since then. Fighting aliens was never what he expected to be doing in the future but here he is. And then there's another one, a big change he welcomed wholly, you.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

He took off his cape, then glanced at your figure on the bed. You probably fell asleep for a few hours now. He can't blame you, he was gone for a while. He had rescued some people from another alien attack, coming home at midnight just now.

"...Star?"

He calls out just to confirm. When he didn't hear any shift or answer, he walked into the bathroom. After a long day, a warm shower might do him good. Especially after fighting aliens for who knows how long since they attacked suddenly. 

He turns on the shower. The fog blurs the mirror cover as the warm water cascades down his body. It felt...nice. He's not that physically hurt much, but a nice long shower is his go-to after hero work. 

His mind rewinds to that encounter just a few weeks ago. He was testing you and for a moment, he had thought he failed you. If it wasn't for your explanation, he would've...well, made shining the brightest a reality. For you to look for Ray instead of his persona, you know what words to say. 

His mind was cut off when he heard a creak. He looks slightly over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow as he catches your familiar figure in the doorway. 

"Star, I'll finish soon."

He spoke softly, seeing you peeking inside. His eyes met yours and..there was a long moment of staring before you spoke. You just woke up, and your voice is a bit groggy still as you speak.

"Take your time."

You coughed, clearing your throat more clearly before asking.

"Did you just come home?'

He tilts his head back, thinking for a moment before answering. He's not sure whether to face you or if you can see all of him through the shower mirror.

"Yes, a few minutes ago. Sorry, it took longer than expected."

He replied, running a hand over his damp hair. He turns off the shower and you perk up.

"You're leaving?"

He stops in his tracks with your question.

"The shower? Yes."

He answered.

"You usually take long ones."

"Yes, but you're awake."

"You didn't wake me though."

"..."

He turns slightly, glancing at your foggy figure through the shower mirror.

"What do you suggest, star?"

He heard you hum and you stepped closer to the shower mirror door.

"You should take your usual showers. I think I could use one too."

He tilts his head to the left, a small smirk forming his lips but before he could say something suggestive, you spoke again.

"No innuendos."

𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙝, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙨.

He bit his lip to stifle a chuckle before responding.

"Okay, no innuendos for today. Come on then."

He slides the door open and meets you face to face. He leans back against the cold tile.

"Don't tell me you're going in with your clothes on."

"I'm working on it. Patience, hero."

He chuckles as you roll your eyes while he watches you discard your clothes aside. He never thought he would feel so...domestic one day. Once again, you're making him feel things he thought he would never feel.

"I'll hop in now."

You spoke and he nodded. He held a hand to help you in, making sure you wouldn't slip as you stepped inside.

"Comfortable?"

"Hm."

You hum, sliding the door closed. He met your gaze and saw how it dropped to his body.

"...Eyes up here. No innuendos, you say."

He commented and you hit his arm. He laughed a bit while you found an excuse.

"It's an involuntary thing!"

"Right. You checked out people involuntarily, star?"

"I mean..."

He raised a brow when you pursed your lips as if thinking about it. Then you grin and look up at him.

"Only if it's you." 

You spoke so teasingly. He took a discreetly deep breath when you smiled so flirtatiously afterward.

"You like playing dangerous games, star."

"Hey, I said no innuendos."

You spoke and he shook his head, turning on the shower again. He sighs as the water flows down his body, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again to glance at you.

The cap of the shampoo bottle clicks as you open it up. He watches as you squeeze some amount on your palm then looks up at him.

"Come on, duck down a bit."

He smiles in amusement but follows anyway. He turns the shower off again.

"Wait here."

He opens the sliding door and looks beneath the sink where he keeps a shower chair. He steps out for a moment, turning his back to you while he retrieves it.

"𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙚."

He heard your thoughts and he already knew where you were looking. Somehow, your thoughts get louder when you're thinking of risqué things. It amuses him.

"No innuendos, y/n."

He spoke while he was getting the shower chair, using your own words again. He heard you gasp for a moment.

"Don't read my mind."

"I was not, you're thinking too loud, star."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Sure it doesn't."

He walks back and places the shower chair down before closing the door. 

"Do you still have the shampoo on your palm?"

"Hm." 

You hummed and gestured for him to sit down quickly. He follows anyway by sitting down and tilting his head back. He sighs as you massage his hair.

"...Did you insist on joining me just to do this?"

"What? No."

He chuckles.

"You're a very good liar."

You rolled your eyes and continued lathering his hair with shampoo.

"Your hairstyle is very different when you're in your hero outfit."

He sighs.

"Yeah, my makeup artist does that."

"You have makeup artists? Plural?"

He chuckles. His eyes are closed as he answers.

"I do. Appearance and all that."

"Hm. I do like your hair better when it's down though.."

𝙊𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙖𝙨 𝙍𝙖𝙮

He opens his eyes.

"Star."

"Hm?"

He pauses for a moment. His lips parted as he thought of how to say it.

"Remember when we met..not exactly the first time but.. when I asked you about your opinion of Binary Star Hero? Back when you didn't know yet it was..me too."

He watches you blink. Your hands slow down in massaging his hair as you think about it.

"Yeah, I do remember."

"You don't like his eyes and smile."

"I don't."

You confirmed. 

"Why is that again?"

You pursed your lips as you thought about your answer before trying to remember how you said it again. Your hands gently run through his shampooed hair.

"Like there was something strange or unsettling with his bright smile and red eyes..?"

He hums, nodding.

"Something like that."

He thinks for a moment before continuing.

"It's like you saw right through me, even on the television screen."

He watches as you chuckle and shake your head.

"I mean, I think I wasn't the only human thinking about it, you know?"

"Maybe."

He reaches for your hand, putting it against his cheek while looking up at you.

"How about mine?"

"Yours?"

"Yeah, mine's. You said you like my hair better when it's down. How about my eyes or my smile?"

He caught sight of how your lips quirked up.

"I like it better too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, your sleepy eyes."

"Sleepy eyes?"

He watches you chuckle as you continue.

"You always have these tired eyes and a smirk. Oh, and the moles too.”

“The moles?”

“Yeah, those moles. It fits you naturally.”

You spoke, remembering when he first stepped into that cafe.

"You were cold by the way, at first."

He chuckles.

"Ah, that."

"Yeah, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩."

"Don't you like cold guys?"

"What? No."

"You found me good-looking though."

"I---Did you read my mind that time?"

You confronted and he hums, closing his eyes.

"Wash my hair, please. I'm going to turn blind and you won't see my tired eyes again."

He evades the question although you already knew the answer. You sighed and turned the small shower head on to use. The water felt nice as it rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. 

Warm.

Comfortable.

Contentment.

He opens his eyes again once you turn it off. He sat up straight.

"Your turn."

"My turn?"

"Yes, star. Your turn.”

He replied as he reached for the shampoo bottle again. He watches you sit down on the shower chair now.

"The chair is comfortable."

"I got it as a gift."

"A gift?"

You ask and he nods, washing your hair gently before lathering it with shampoo.

"I think it was a fan gift or something."

"A fan gave you...this?"

"...You'll be surprised by what kind of gifts they sent me."

"I don't know if I should be creeped out."

He stifled a chuckle.

"Fans are...fans."

You nod. He watches your eyes close as he gently washes your hair. His fingers prevent the water from pouring down your face. His eyes take note of each of your features, etching them into his mind.

"Done."

He spoke, turning the water off and helping you up. He smiles at you after putting away the shower chair.

"Come here. Soap next."

He watches as you raise an eyebrow.

"No innuendos?"

"You should be the one asking yourself that."

He replied as you pursed your lips slightly. 

"Your hands tend to wander, star."

He continued, seeing the slight flush of your face. 

"That makes me sound like a pervert."

"Are you not?"

"I am not!"

He laughs. His shoulders shake as he covers his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fine, soap up my back then?"

"Your back?"

"Yeah, no wandering."

You grinned and he shook his head, pointing a finger at you.

"Bad star."

"I wasn't even saying anything."

"I could hear the gears turning in your head."

"I won't wander!"

You promised and he cocks an eyebrow.

"Promise?"

"...promise."

He bites his lip to stop laughing at the hesitation in your voice.

"Here."

He gave the soap to you, entrusting it to your hands before turning around. He could hear how giddy you were deep inside your mind as you soap up his back. Your hands lingered on his shoulder and traced the lines on his back down his waist then up again. At least, you haven't wandered yet.

"...Can I soap up the front too?"

He turns to you with an amused smile. 

"Since you didn't wander off, I could trust you just a little bit."

He watches you smile up to him with sparkles in your eyes. He shakes his head and reaches for your hand, placing it against his chest.

"Careful, okay?"

"I won't stray from the top. I promise."

"Good star."

He lets go of your hand and lets you begin. Watching you soap his chest and then up his shoulder, he sighs. He pushes stray hair behind your ear.

"You're soaping my chest too much."

He pointed out, which you just shrugged at before lowering your hands to his abdomen. He could practically hear your thoughts again. Your 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙 thoughts. 

He clears his throat.

"Remember your promise?"

"Hm? Oh, I do."

You replied, glancing up at him as if innocent from what you were thinking just now.

"...I think I'm full of soap now."

"You are?"

He covers a laugh, gently stealing the soap away from your hand while you sulk a bit.

"Yes, you’ve done enough.”

“I’m not soap up yet.”

Your response made him quirk an eyebrow, a bit caught off guard. He saw the satisfaction in your eyes while watching the slight tint of red on his cheeks.

“Is that an invitation?”

He questioned to which you responded with an innocent smile once again.

“I was just saying. Why? Are you offering?”

𝘿𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧.

You give him a smirk and he turns the shower on. The sudden spray of warm water surprises you as it hits your direction.

“Wha—Hey!”

You protested. He laughs before turning it off.

“There, I can soap you up now.”

“A little warning is much appreciated.”

“Well, your thoughts need some cleansing.”

“Don’t intrude my thoughts now!”

He laughs, guiding you softly to turn around. His hands massage your shoulder, attempting to calm you down and apologize. 

“Okay, okay, that was my bad.”

He spoke with a chuckle, pressing a quick kiss between the juncture of your shoulder and neck. 

“You’re a bad hero.”

You commented and he laughed more against your now wet skin from the shower. He placed one final kiss against the same spot before spreading the soap on his hands. He gently lathers up from your shoulder.

“Feels good?”

“Hm. I’m still deciding.”

He shakes his head in mirth at your hard-to-get attitude but continues to massage your muscles while lathering your back with soap.

“You feel tense here.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

He pressed further just below your lower back. He smirks up as he hears a satisfied moan leave your lips. 

“So?

“Y...Yeah, that felt good.”

He hums in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he hugs you from behind.

“We should get you a better bed. That might help these muscles.”

“We don’t need to. I’m just getting older.”

“You speak like you’re sixty.”

You roll your eyes. He felt you leaning back against his chest. He catches your eyes when you tilt your head up slightly to look at him.

“You don’t get back aches?”

“Normally? No. Only if I hit the wall hard during a fight.”

“A wall? Are you sure your spine is still in proper shape?”

“I am. I go to check-ups for a reason.”

You hum. He watches as you close your eyes as if savoring the peacefulness surrounding the both of you in the shower. The only sound is their breathing and the water droplets from the faucet.

His thumbs put firm pressure on the spots on either side of your lower back again. He savors your soft moan as he gently massages the area in circles, relieving the tension stored in it.

“..Ray?”

“Hm?”

There was silence for a moment although he already knew what you were trying to say. He can read how your mind goes that way and he had to stifle a chuckle until you finally voice it out.

“You’re poking me.”

“Your mind described it as throbbing.”

“Ray!”

“You were making sweet sounds.”

He replied and pulled away. He leans back against the cold tiled walls and crosses his arms. He watches as you turn around to glance at him. Such a curious cat to even take a peek down his body. Shameless. 

He chuckles and turns on the shower, spraying the both of you underneath.

“Come, let’s wash up before you break your promise.”

The shower routine felt more domestic than he expected. Although there were some teasing moments and how he tried ignoring your thoughts, he managed to finish up. He dries his hair with a towel while you're dressing yourself into your usual pajamas. He's on his sweaters now as well.

"It's so early.."

He heard your comment. He glances at the clock. It is early, only two hours past midnight.

"Sleepy again?"

He asks and you shake your head.

"I can't sleep now."

He hums. That's what you always say when asking to cuddle with him.

"Ray, cuddle with me."

𝙃𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙞𝙩.

He glances at your figure on the bed through the mirror. He's getting used to this more and more, and looking forward to you asking him like this every night.

"Move a bit to the side."

He walks closer and settles down beside you on the bed. His arm propped up while resting his cheek on his hand.

"Alright, scoot closer."

And you did. He sighs and cups your cheek with one hand, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"Are you gonna kiss me goodnight?"

You asked.

𝙉𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧.

He chuckles, his cheeks tinting a bit. You could be bold in one minute.

"You want me to?"

"I think it would make me sleep easier."

"You always say that."

"And I always fall asleep after."

He can't say anything against that. You do fall asleep quickly afterward. His kiss somehow feels like a magic kiss at this point. 

"Ray?"

He shifted, leaning closer. His thumb is still caressing your cheek before his hand slides down your chin. He tilts your head slightly.

"Goodnight kiss it is then."

He replied and pressed a kiss to your forehead, then down to your nose, and finally, captured your lips with his. You welcomed him, even pulling him close. His lips move sweetly and gently against yours, deepening the kiss. 

It felt...nice being accepted like this. Just a few years ago, he let you get away with robbing the house of a legislator. Now, he's letting you steal his heart away.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || You're Friends With Benefits and you're Pregnant

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

‧₊˚ �� ⋅MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN:

You were sitting across from Jin, your hands trembling slightly as you muster the courage to tell him the news. it was something you'd been meaning to do for a few weeks now but every time you'd tried to do it you'd lost all of your courage. 

"Jin..." You whisper a little. His warm smile faded as soon as he saw the seriousness in your expression. The two of you had been friends for years and he knew how to read you like a book.

"I need to tell you something important." You started a little and he leaned in slightly, concern etched on his face.

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything." You take a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. You knew you could tell him anything but that didn't make what you needed to tell him any easier to say.

"I'm pregnant." For a moment, Jin is silent, his eyes widening as he processes your words. You can see the surprise flash across his face, but it quickly gives way to a calm, thoughtful expression. He inhales deeply, letting the news settle before responding.

"Okay," he says, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

"Okay? T-That's all you have to say?!" Your voice cracked as you let out some of your own panic but Jin took your hand in his and gently soothed your skin a little.

"Let me finish," He laughs softly as he looks at you,

"This is unexpected, but we're going to get through this." he squeezed your hand a little as he looked at you.

"I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll figure this out together, step by step." You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was already thinking ahead, trying to be strong for you. 

"We need to talk about what you want," he continues softly. He didn't want to force you into keeping the baby or force you into not keeping them. He was going to be there for you no matter what you wanted.

"Whatever you decide, I'll support you 100%. We don’t have to rush into anything right now. We can take our time to figure out what’s best for you, for us, and for the baby." Jin’s calmness made you feel better as you nodded at him.

"I want this...I-I want the baby." You whipped as he nodded, bringing you into his arms.

"We’ll get through this together. A mini me or you would be cute to have around," he promises you as you giggle a little.

YOONGI:

You and Yoongi are sitting in his studio, the soft hum of music playing in the background as he tinkers with some tracks. The atmosphere is relaxed, but your growing anxiety makes it hard for you to stay calm. Yoongi knew it wasn't like you to be quiet, and he frowned, glancing over at you with a concerned look.

"You’re quiet," he observes, as he looks at his computer. The two of you had planned to go to dinner but he was working late. You take a deep breath, your heart pounding as you try to find the right words. This was something that wasn't expected, the two of you were just supposed to have sex and nothing more and yet now everything was going to be changing.

"Yoongi, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s... important." He turns his chair to face you fully, sensing the seriousness in your voice. His usual laid-back expression shifts slightly as concern creeps in. 

"What is it?" he asks, his tone calm but tinged with a subtle tension. 

"You know you can tell me anything." He finished,

"I’m pregnant," you say, the words coming out in a rush before you lose your nerve.

For a moment, the room falls into a heavy silence. Yoongi just stares at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes widen slightly, but his face remains largely impassive, his usual calm exterior giving little away. He blinks a few times, his mind clearly working to process the unexpected news.

"Pregnant?" he finally repeats, his voice quiet, almost as if he’s speaking to himself. He leans back in his chair, his gaze drifting away from you as he tries to make sense of what you’ve just told him.

You watch as his expression darkens, his usual calmness giving way to a troubled look.

"This… this wasn’t supposed to happen," he mutters, his voice low and strained. 

"We were just… It wasn’t meant to get this complicated." There’s a coldness in his tone that you’ve never heard before, a detachment that makes your heart sink. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh as he stares at the floor, his thoughts clearly racing.

"I don’t know if I’m ready for this," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"I don’t even know where to begin." He whispered. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s struggling to keep his emotions in check. Yoongi was always been someone who values control, and this news has clearly thrown him off balance. He’s retreating into himself, his mind turning over the implications of what you’ve just told him.

"Yoongi, I’m scared too," you say softly, hoping to reach him through the wall he’s starting to build. You weren't going to let him shut down.

"But we need to figure this out together. I can’t do this alone." His gaze finally shifts back to you, and you can see the turmoil in his eyes. There’s a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or guilt—but it’s quickly swallowed up by the storm of emotions he’s trying to suppress.

"I know," he says after a long pause, his voice rough around the edges. 

"I just… I need time to think. This is a lot to take in." He stands up, pacing the small space as he tries to wrap his head around the situation. His usual confidence is shaken, replaced by a deep uncertainty that weighs heavily on him. But despite his inner turmoil, there’s still a part of him that cares about you, that wants to do the right thing, even if he’s not sure what that is yet.

"I need time." He repeated and you could hear the distance in his tone, a hesitation that lingers, but there’s also a flicker of determination in his eyes. Your eyes teared up as you realised you were probably going to have to do this all alone.

"But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll talk more, figure out what’s next… together." He whispered as he sat back down, 

"We're doing this together, no matter what." He promises, kissing your hand softly.

HOSEOK:

You and Hoseok were sitting at your apartment, you'd invited him around like you did most weekends and he'd been ready for it. What he hadn't been ready for was the serious look on your face as you sat across from him,

"Hoseok, I need to tell you something… It’s big." His smile fades as he focuses entirely on you, worry now evident in his eyes. "

What is it? You sick? I know you've been off for a while, did you finally go to the doctor?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with anxiety.

"I’m pregnant." You rushed out. The words hang in the air for a moment as he processes what you just said. His eyes widen in surprise, and you can see a mix of emotions flashing across his face—shock, concern, and something else, something softer.

"Pregnant?" he repeats, almost as if testing the word out. He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. 

"Wow, okay… this is... a lot to take in." He whispered as you nodded a little. You knew it was going to be a lot for him.

He falls silent for a moment, his mind clearly racing. But then he looks at you with that familiar warmth in his eyes, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his lips as he reaches for your hand.

"I won’t lie, I’m a little scared," he admits, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. 

"But… we’ll get through this, okay? It might not be what we planned, but that doesn’t mean it can’t work out. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time." You can see the concern still lingering in his eyes, but he’s trying his best to stay positive, and to be your source of strength in this unexpected situation.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.

"Are you okay? This must be really overwhelming for you." You nod, a small smile breaking through your nervousness as you see how hard he’s trying to stay optimistic for you. 

"I’m okay, just… scared, I guess."

"Me too," he admits, his smile widening just a bit. 

"But you know what? We’re a team, right? And teams stick together, no matter what." He smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you into a warm hug,

"We’ll take it one day at a time," he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with determination. 

"We're gonna have a baby," you whisper as he runs his hand down to your stomach, touching it softly and smiling brightly. 

"I'm gonna be a dad." He grins down at you, kissing you softly.

NAMJOON:

When you'd invited Namjoon around he thought it was for the same reason he'd been needing to talk to you,

"We'll go at the same time," he chuckles as you nod a little. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before speaking. 

"I’m pregnant."

"I love you-" Your heart launched into your throat as you stared at Namjoon. For a moment, Namjoon is silent, his mind clearly working at a million miles an hour. His initial reaction is one of shock, his eyes widening as he absorbs the news. He quickly pulls himself together, though, and his expression shifts to one of focused determination.

"Wow... okay, this changes everything," he says, his voice calm but thoughtful. He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. 

"First, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" You nod, relieved that he’s handling the situation so thoughtfully. 

"I’m… I’m okay, just really overwhelmed." He leans back, exhaling slowly as he runs a hand through his hair. 

"I get that. This is a lot to take in, for both of us." His tone is measured, as if he’s already planning the next steps in his mind. 

"We need to talk about all our options. I want to make sure you feel supported, whatever you decide. This isn’t just about us anymore—it’s about what’s best for you and the baby." Namjoon’s mind is clearly in overdrive, but he’s making a conscious effort to remain calm and focused for your sake. He leans forward, his gaze serious yet caring.

"Joonie..." You trail off, remembering what he had said to you, he looked at you, forgetting for a moment he'd confessed that he loved you.

"I love you too." you smile, kissing him softly as you touch his hand on your stomach and relax a little. Knowing that you weren't alone was going to help a lot with all of this.

JIMIN:

You and Jimin are sitting in your living room, the atmosphere a mix of nervous excitement and underlying tension. You’ve just told him that you’re pregnant, and while you’re were still trying to process the news, Jimin’s reaction was… intense.

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at you in shock. Then, almost as if a switch flips, he jumps up from the couch, his mind racing a mile a minute. 

"Oh my god, you’re pregnant!" he exclaims, running a hand through his hair. 

"We need to get everything ready. You have to start taking vitamins, right? And what about your diet? Are you getting enough nutrients? Oh god, we need to make sure you’re eating all the right things!"

He starts pacing back and forth, his face a mixture of concern and sheer panic.

"Do we have a plan? What about the doctor? You need to see a doctor, like, right now. And we don’t even have a nursery set up! How are we going to do this? I don’t even know the first thing about babies! Should I be reading books? I need to read books, don’t I?" You watch him, trying to keep a straight face, but the sight of him spiralling into a full-blown panic is both endearing and amusing. A giggle escapes your lips, and soon you’re laughing, the sound light and infectious. Jimin stops mid-pace, turning to look at you with wide eyes.

"Why are you laughing?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. 

"This is serious! We have so much to do!" He panicked at you and you couldn't help but laugh harder. You shake your head, still giggling as you reach out to take his hand, pulling him back down to the couch beside you. 

"Jimin, calm down," you say, trying to suppress another laugh.

"We don’t have to do everything all at once. We’ll figure it out together." You smiled at him, out of the two of you, you thought you would be the one to react like this. He looks at you, his expression softening as he realizes how worked up he’s gotten. 

"I’m just… I don’t want to mess this up," he admits, his voice small and vulnerable. "I want to make sure you’re okay, that the baby’s okay. I’m freaking out because… I care so much." You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. 

"I know you do. But you don’t have to do it all by yourself. We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?" He nods, taking a deep breath as he tries to calm himself down. But as he looks at you, something shifts in his expression—something deeper, more serious. He hesitates for a moment as if weighing his words, before finally speaking.

"I need to tell you something," he says quietly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. 

"I’ve been freaking out, not just because of the baby, but because… this is so much more to me than just being friends." Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, his voice trembling slightly. Your heart raced as you stared at him,

"I love you," he confesses, his eyes shining with emotion. "Not just as a friend, but as something more. I think I’ve loved you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to say it. And now, with this… I can’t keep it to myself anymore." For a moment, the room is silent, the weight of his words hanging between you. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face as you reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin.

"I love you too, Jimin," you whisper, your voice full of warmth.

"I think I’ve felt this way for a long time too." Relief floods his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His eyes soften as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. 

"We’re going to be okay," he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with newfound confidence. "We’ll figure this out together. And I promise, I’ll be there for you and our baby every step of the way." He runs his hands over your stomach.

TAEHYUNG:

You and Taehyung are sitting on the bathroom floor, your knees pulled up to your chest as you wait for the pregnancy test results. The silence between you is thick with tension, the air heavy with the gravity of the situation. Taehyung, usually so calm and collected, fidgets beside you, his fingers tapping nervously against the tiles. He glances over at you, his eyes filled with concern. 

The two of you had been worried for a while since you'd been sick lately and he was the one that thought of the pregnancy test first.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks softly, breaking the silence.  You nod, trying to muster a small smile despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. 

"I’m okay, just… scared." You admitted. If you were pregnant everything was going to change. It wasn't just going to be sex without strings anymore, There would be A LOT of strings.

Taehyung shifts closer to you, his hand gently finding yours. He squeezes it, his touch warm and reassuring. 

"I know this is scary," he says, his voice steady despite the fear you can see lurking in his eyes. 

"But whatever happens, I’m here for you. I mean it." You look at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you see is sincerity. 

"Taehyung, this… this wasn’t part of the plan. We were just… you know." He nods, his expression serious but tender. 

"I know. We started this as friends with benefits, and I thought I could keep it casual, but… it’s never been just that for me." His voice softens, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. 

"I’ve cared about you more than I ever let on. And now, with this… it just makes me realize how much I want to be there for you. For us." His words hang in the air, their weight settling into the pit of your stomach alongside the anxiety. 

"You really mean that?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly as tears begin to run down your cheeks.

"I do," he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with a determination that leaves no room for doubt. 

"No matter what happens—whether the test is positive or negative—I’m in this for the long run. You’re not just someone I’ve been seeing; you’re someone I care about deeply. We’ll figure this out together, okay?"

The timer on your phone buzzes, signalling that the test is ready. Your heart races, but Taehyung’s grip on your hand tightens, grounding you in the moment.

"Whatever that test says," he whispers, his voice calm and soothing, 

"We’re going to be okay. We’ll face it together." He nodded at you.  Taking a deep breath, you both lean forward to look at the result. As your eyes scan the test, your emotions swell, but before anything else, you feel Taehyung’s arms wrapping around you, pulling you close.

"We’ll be okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere." He promised you as you nodded. His words fill you with a sense of security you hadn’t realized you needed, a promise that no matter what the future holds, you won’t face it alone. 

JUNGKOOK:

As soon as the words "I'm Pregnant" left your lips it had left Jungkook in a state of shock. You almost worried he'd had a heart attack and you weren't sure what you were meant to be doing.

"Jungkook?" You touched his hand softly and he looked down at your hands that were intertwined together. This whole thing had never meant to end this way and yet here you were. One drunken night, one broken condom later and Jungkook felt his whole world changing. Jungkook’s heart races as the words hit him again and again, he slowly looks up at you. 

"Pregnant?" he whispers, almost to himself. His expression shifts from shock to anxiety, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The two of you agreed that this was meant to be something that was only stress relief. Friends with benefits. That was it. 

"This wasn’t supposed to happen… I didn’t mean for this to get so complicated." He looks at you with conflicted eyes, struggling between his feelings for you and the fear of what this means for both of your futures. 

"What do we do now?" He took your hand in his and squeezed softly, while it might not be what he had planned for you there was no way he was going to let you go through any of this alone. It was the two of you that had created the baby and it was going to be the two of you raising them.

"I wanted to talk to you first, and see what you thought I-I should do." your voice shook a little and he smiled weakly, while it might not have been the best scenario he was happy he was going to be a father.

"Well, we get you booked in with a doctor, we get you all the medications you're gonna need and then we go to every single scan together. Do you wanna know the gender? Do you wanna have a baby shower-" Your hand slowly covered his mouth as you let out a small giggle.

"You want to go through with it then?" You asked him before he nodded behind your hand, a giant smile taking over his face.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[baji-side-sideblog]

Clipped Bird Chapter 2

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

Alfred looks to his side seeing Damian storm into the dinning room. The others aren’t far behind him, and before they can speak Alfred holds his hand up.

“I know what you all are going to ask, I didn’t tell you out of their own request,” Alfred’s voice was clear and firm leaving no room for doubt, “They wanted it to just be between us, so their move to their college dorms can go unbothered.”

“So you’re just saying they left us without any word at all, even after they got into a fight!” Damian huffs.

“Yes, they didn’t wish to stay any longer. They are in good health, and weren’t harmed in the fight, luckily.”

Bruce steps up putting his hand on Damian to remind him to calm down, “What college are they going to?”

“Gentlebrook University, they thought it was the best seeing as it has more options for their interest,” Alfred adjusts his tie, “Though you all better not rush them at once. They will only react negatively to it seeing as they’re not used to your attention.”

Bruce sighs, putting his hand to his chin as he thinks of a plan to get to you. He doesn’t need you running off and hiding from them more just by seeing all of them. Looking over to his sons he tries to think of who has the best relationship with you, so they can be the one to talk to you. But no one pops up right away for him, making the man grumble. They’ll all have to step up once they get you back and make up for everything they missed. A pit of guilt grows in his stomach thinking about how they all failed you so horribly.

“Tim, you're just a bit older than them. I think it’s best if you go and talk to them. Remember to be slow about it, we just want them back in our lives. No forcing them back into the house, it will only upset them more,” his voice is stern, “The rest of you all will be getting things ready just in case the worse situation happens.”

Jason, Dick, and Damian try to speak up, each wanting to be the one to go get you, but Bruce shakes his head. The trio sigh but reluctantly agrees.

"I'll track them down, so I have an easier time finding them on campus," Time speaks up, "I'll keep all of you updated when I go to talk to them.

Alfred looks at the group, “I shall not be helping you all, seeing as I don’t wish to make them feel isolated if anything goes amiss.”

Bruce turns to the butler wanting to bring him onto their side, but seeing the determination in Alfred’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t change his mind. He just nods having to respect his choice, plus they can use it to their benefit in case they have to force you back to the house. You’ll be more compliant hopefully with Alfred here and your two’s relationship stays secure.

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

Here you are in your first in person class! Your nerves are going crazy from all the excitement and anxiety. The class was just a simple math class even with your major they still require the general classes to be done first. Hopefully you can make some friends, but first you got to unhide your presence. It’s just a bit scary the idea of being not hidden, you’re not sure how your classmates will react to you. But if you want friends you have to be willing to be out there. So taking a deep breath you let your presence be known, spooking the lady sitting next to you.

“Oh goodness! I didn’t realize you were right next to me.”

“It’s ok, sorry about spooking you,” you hold out your hand introducing yourself but using Pennyworth as your last name, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too! I’m Jenny. Um, so would you mind if we hang out? I mean, well, sorry. I stumble over my words when I’m nervous,” she fidgets with her ginger hair, “I’m new here and I figure you are too, so would you want to be new together?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you nod excitedly, your first friend! This is it! Your heart pounds so fast, you hope you don’t scare her off. Jenny smiles and shakes your hand very fast, scooting closer to you to work together. Before you know it, class is over, and Jenny is leading you all around campus to hang out. This is the most fun ever, even though nothing is really happening besides talking. For the first time ever with someone who isn’t your dad, you feel like you belong. The campus is wonderful too since it was more colorful than the usual Gotham buildings.

Jenny is a rather fast talker, rambling about all sorts of things that pops into her head. But she makes sure to leave space for you to chime up, and when you do her focus is all on you. Happily listening to everything you have to say, as if it's the most important thing ever. And luckily enough Jenny doesn't listen to the news since it makes her sad, so she has no idea who you are. You never felt so lucky before to have a fresh start with someone.

A week later you’re walking over to the local breakfast place with Jenny like usual just chatting. Everything is perfect like nothing could go wrong, till Jenny’s squeal catches you off guard.

“What is it?”

“It’s Tim Drake!” Jenny pulls you closer, pointing over to Tim who was standing by the campus entrance, a crowd starts to form, “Isn’t he dreamy. I wonder what he’s doing here.”

You stand there in shock. What is he doing here?! There’s no way this guy just came to look around, you know it. On instinct your presence disappears as you hide behind Jenny. Are you in trouble? Is he just here to mess with you? Why? Why? WHY?! Bang, bang, bang, your heart is beating so loud you swear everyone could hear it. Your breathing goes crazy as you grip onto yourself trying to calm down, you can’t though, you try and try but nothing is working. You’re hoping he doesn’t see you or recognize you if you’re lucky enough.

“Huh? Where did you go?” Jenny looks around confused till she turns and bumps into you, “Huh when did you..what’s wrong?”

“I can’t breathe,” the words are hard to get out.

“It’s ok, I got you,” Jenny’s usual playful tone turns serious, “Look at me ok, focus on me”

You nod looking into her green eyes, she tells you to follow her breathing. And you do, in the out, in then out, in then out. Your breathing slowly steadies, but your body still shakes. Once you’re calm enough, she looks over you. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close into her. Before moving your head onto her chest to focus on the sound of her heartbeat.

“It’s ok, I’m here. I’m here for you, I’m not leaving,” hearing your sigh of relief she says, “What’s wrong?”

“I uh well…can we go to the breakfast place. I’ll explain there, I don’t feel comfortable being out here in the open.”

Jenny nods with determination, pulling you with her quickly. The last thing she wants you to feel is in danger. You stumble a bit surprised at how fast she can go, it takes you a bit to catch up with her pace. Once you two sit down at the restaurant you quietly explain a bit about why you’re uncomfortable. Her concern face turns red with anger as her nose scrunches up.

“Why those jerks! How dare they ignore you, oh why I outta wallop them! I don’t care how dreamie they are, no one ignores my best friend!” she stands up determined to go out and beat the hell out of Tim.

“Jenny please calm down, I don’t want anyone looking at us,” you grab her hand, “And I don’t want to be left alone.”

“Of course, I’m sorry,” Jenny takes a deep breath, “It just makes me so mad, they did that to you, it's not fair.”

“Yeah...I,” you stumble over your words a bit sniffling.

“Hey, it’s ok,” she pulls you in for a hug, “It’s ok to cry.”

You touch your cheek feeling how wet they are, you’re crying quite a bit. Damn, her words got to you, hearing her say it’s not fair, it feels good. It feels good that others see it the same way as you. She really cares about you so much and you just ugh this day is already filled with so many emotions and it barely even started. You feel like an other mess right now. You know she won't think you're weird, but your anxiety was telling you otherwise. Seeing you all scrunch up she rubs your back to comfort you, before gently nuzzling into you to make you laugh.

“Thanks, you’re the first person that’s not my dad who understands.”

“You don’t have to thank me at all. I’m just happy to be by your side,” she takes a breath, “So what do you want to do about your dumb brother Tim.”

“Nothing, hopefully he’ll tire himself out.”

“I would, but the coffee I drink is starting to hit,” a voice chimes up.

The two of you turn looking over and see Tim walking over to you two.

“How?” you gasp out

“You’re still on dad’s plan, so it was pretty easy to track your phone from there,” Tim tries to give you a reassuring smile, "I was actually hoping we can talk. Everyone misses you at home.

Jenny moves quickly to stand in front of you, “I can't speak for them if they want to talk with you, I'll never judge them for it. But if you touch my bestie or make them sad, I will bite you.”

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

Tag list- @cherryblossomfox @feral-childs-word @mindscape123 @halfacupofcoffee @luckeclover @lovermaybabe @pieceartsworld @humanerror-24 @notso-redhairedwitch @purplecowboygarden @galaxypurplerose @pang-stuff @spiderofgotham @leftwonderlandpatrol @lakari01 @red-phantom-0 @ghost3029 @telila96114229-blog @red-phantom-0 @jellystar-star @thelovelymoonlightofthemidnight @yandereforme

[elleaitch22]

Terms of Endearment

Chapter 10: Tender as a Bruise

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: I was supposed to have this finished a few hours ago, but today has been a day. Please disregard any errors! I hope you love it!! Notes and live reactions are always appreciated! xx Elle

Warnings: PTSD, nightmares, mentions of panic attacks, brief mention of SA, murder, discussions of mental health

Word Count: 4.0k

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige didn’t sleep well. She couldn’t. The day had shaken her more than she realized.

Hearing and reading about the abuse Azzi had experienced reminded her too much of her marriage with Manny. He was more for fists and kicks than emotional and psychological abuse, but Paige felt that may have been easier. Bruises heal in a week, but words? The soak into the brain and never really fade.

Sure, men made Paige uncomfortable, and sometimes she braced herself when people moved towards her too quickly. But Azzi had been free of Grant for two years, and she still carried those words and wounds with her daily.

Azzi’s monster was still alive. And was resourceful enough to find her again.

Emmanuel Martinez would never harm Paige again. She made sure of it.

He liked fast cars, so she rented an F1 track and car for his birthday, she just made sure he wouldn’t be able to stop. He slammed into a crash barrier going 170 miles per hour. It was fast. Final. There was no way he survived it.

The tears Paige shed at the track, and later at his funeral, were tears of relief. Tears of joy for her freedom. No one knew that but Nika. A few weeks later, she bought Aurelia. Three months after, she brought Soleil home to their penthouse. Paige hadn’t been haunted by nightmares since then.

But now? Knowing Azzi couldn’t get that same relief? It made her furious.

She couldn’t keep walking around this angry, so she pulled her phone out and messaged her therapist, not caring it was only 6 a.m.

Paige: Sorry about the time. Can you fit me in today. I can’t control it.

It took a few minutes, but he replied.

Kyrie: Do you want to come in at 7?

She hesitated. Azzi might wake up confused, disoriented. Paige needed to be here.

Paige: I don’t think I can leave right now. Can you come over?

Kyrie: Will be there in 15.

Paige let out a breath. Just talking with Kyrie would help. Even if he couldn’t offer a solution, maybe he could help her think clearly. Breathe again.

She went back into her bedroom and did what she had been doing all night – sitting in one of the accent chairs, watching Azzi sleep.

Azzi looked like she belonged there. Curled on the left side of the bed, her curls spread across the lavender sheets like ink. She didn’t know that Paige always slept on the right, always closest to the door. But somehow, Azzi had left it open for her.

Paige started the night trying to sleep. But every time she drifted off, a nightmare played behind her eyelids. Manny, again and again.

Azzi started to whimper softly, her brow pinched. Then the restlessness began — a leg kicking out, her body twisting under the covers. Paige crossed the room and gently touched her face, smoothing her eyebrows with her thumb, brushing her knuckles against her cheek. To her surprise it worked. Azzi melted into the sheets.

So, Paige stayed close. All night, she sat by the bed, chasing away the nightmares Azzi couldn’t fight off herself. And when she wasn’t soothing her, she was planning. Trying to figure out what the hell she could do to help Azzi feel whole again.

The elevator dinged. Kyrie was here.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Kyrie Irving was one of Paige’s favorite people. He was steady, dependable, and the best therapist Paige could have hoped for. He helped her untangle trauma she didn’t even know she was carrying. Paige wanted to be fine by the time she had Soleil, and Kyrie made sure she was.

Even now, mostly healed, Paige had a session with him twice a month.

“If it isn’t my favorite client.” He greeted with a crooked smile and a side hug.

Paige smiled, leaning into his embrace. “We can go to my office.”

Kyrie looked at her with a raised brow. “You got company or something?”

She hesitated. “That’s part of what I need to talk about.”

His smirk dropped quickly, following Paige into the office.

She closed the door and motioned to the two armchairs. They sat.

“I’m sure you saw the papers over the weekend?” She began. Kyrie nodded and gestured for her to continue. “It’s not a real relationship.”

Kyrie interjected. “I mean I figured. You hadn’t mentioned anybody in any of our sessions.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “She was Soleil’s teacher, and she worked at the club. I offered her… a different option.” Her gaze dropped. “Anyway, she lost her job when the photos of us came out. And her abusive ass ex found out where she was. She’d been hiding from him for two years.”

Kyrie’s voice was calm. “An abusive ex, how is that landing on you?”

Paige shrugged. “I had a couple nightmares. Didn’t go back to sleep. Got really angry. Destroyed one of the model apartments.”

“It’s good that you were able to release your anger without hurting anyone, Paige.”

“Yeah, I get that. But Azzi had a breakdown yesterday. Didn’t want her to see me like that and get scared.” She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “It feels like this was all my fault.”

Kyrie nodded. “Can you tell me why?”

“She wouldn’t have lost her job if I hadn’t taken her to the gala. If the photos didn’t come out. And her ex found her because of them. Everyone knows where I live. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out.”

“Did you force her into this relationship?” Kyrie’s head tilted to the side.

Paige rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going. “No, but if I didn’t offer, she’d still have her job and she’d be safe.”

“Do you think she didn’t think the photos of you would be publicized?”

She scoffed. “She’s not an idiot, but I don’t think she knew what all would happen because of it. She only accepted because she’s in so much debt.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No, I had someone look into it.” Paige muttered ashamed. “Her fuck ass ex-boyfriend put credit cards, their apartment, his car, all of it was in her name. He stopped paying when she left, probably to get her to come back, and it wrecked her credit. She’s paying it all off now. It’s why she was working at the club.”

“Hmm.” Kyrie rubbed his beard. “So it’s the ex-boyfriend’s fault?”

Paige couldn’t answer that. Yes, Paige is partially the reason why Azzi got involved in this mess, but she wasn’t the reason Azzi was struggling enough to accept her offer. Grant was.

“I want to murder him. Make it take time so he can feel at least a little bit of the pain she’s in right now.”

Kyrie shrugged. “You can find out where he is. You have people for that. You could find him and do whatever you think is necessary. Why won’t you?”

“I don’t know what Azzi would do if I did. Her mind is so fractured right now. I don’t know if she’d feel like it was her fault.” She paused. “Her situation was different than mine.”

“How so?” Kyrie questioned.

Paige leaned towards her therapist. “Manny wasn’t manipulative like that; I mean he manipulated his way into marriage. But after he just wanted to drink, play his game, and abuse me.” Her brow furrowed. “I mean it was bad, but he never came back and told me he loved me or that it was my fault. When I got rid of him, he didn’t linger in my mind.”

“But Azzi’s abuse was different?”

“Yeah. He drugged her and assaulted her. That’s how their relationship started. He isolated her, so she could feel like he was the only person who loved her. The only person who could love her.” Paige sighed. “She’s just – she’s so good. She’s kind. She sees everyone as a person deserving of love. She’s just perfect. But he said so much shit to her that she blames herself. She thinks she deserved it. She can’t even trust herself to make simple decisions.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t just want to kill him. I want to make him suffer, at least half as much as she’s suffering now.”

The office was quiet for a little bit. “So, what were you wanting from today’s session?” He asked.

“I don’t know what to do to help her.”

Kyrie stood, “Are there feelings involved?”

Paige stiffened, then nodded. “I want her, but I would rather have her be happy and healthy. I need you to help me with that.”

“I think you have to ask her. It seems like she needs structure and for people to show her she doesn’t need to earn love.”

Paige nodded.

“It’s 7:45. I gotta get to the office so I can prep for my first client.”

The two walked out together, “Imma text you and make an appointment for Thursday or Friday.” Paige said.

A figure on the couch made her stop short.

Azzi sat rigidly, curls messy, eyes wide. She glanced from Paige to Kyrie and back again.

“Oh, hey Az.” Paige offered a smile. “Didn’t know you were up already.”

Azzi nodded slowly. Her shoulders were tight. Her lips pressed in a line. Eyes flickered between Paige and Kyrie.

“This is my therapist, Kyrie. He’s the best.” Paige turned to the man. “Kyrie, this is Azzi.”

Kyrie gave her a gentle smile. “Nice to meet you, Azzi. I’ll see myself out, P.”

He didn’t linger. Paige watched him go, then turned back to Azzi.

And for the first time all morning, she wasn’t sure what to say.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi didn’t know what to do. Paige smiled, but she’d just met with her therapist, so there was obviously something wrong. Azzi didn’t know if she was angry at her and not wanting her to know or what. Azzi knew what to do when people were angry at her, but she couldn’t get a good enough read on Paige to know.

Paige looked calm — too calm. Azzi had seen that kind of calm before. The kind that came after a decision. The kind Grant wore, right before everything fell apart.

She stared at her hands, nervously cracking her knuckles. “Are you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry, Azzi?” The brunette scoffed quietly. “I’m not mad at you at all. Are you mad at me?”

“No!” Azzi’s head shot up, only to see a smirk.

“There you are,” smirk turned to a warm smile. “What do you want for breakfast today?”

Azzi was even more confused than before. Was Paige asking her these questions, waiting for her to answer one incorrectly?

Her hands were trembling. Her heart wouldn’t slow. She felt a mix of agitation and anxiety; she was aware of her inability to make a decision, but there were too many options that Paige could have thought were wrong.

“What are you feeling?” She questioned, looking at Paige. That usually worked with Grant, even when he was already annoyed with her.

“I’ll eat anything, as long as it doesn’t have vegetables.” Paige’s head tilted. “Why won’t you answer me?”

Azzi’s ears started ringing. Her vision tunneled. Her head felt light. Eyes blurred with tears. “I– I– I’m sorry. I just – I’m okay with whatever you want. I’m sorry.” She felt her hands shaking and her body tense.

She’d fucked up again. Paige wasn’t going to want her in her life, in her family anymore.

She was going to get rid of her.

She wouldn’t even have a home once Paige kicked her out; she broke her lease when she moved in here.

Grant was right. She fucked up everything.

She was so stupid. Such a fuck up.

“–zi! Azzi! Fuck. Azzi!” She blinked quickly, feeling warm hands on her face.

When had she started breathing so fast?

Blue eyes and pale skin were the only things she could see.

Azzi blinked hard.

“Azzi. You’re having a panic attack. You need to slow down your breathing. Can you do that for me?”

The woman took Azzi’s hand and pressed it to her chest. “Match your breathing to mine, Az.”

Warmth filled Azzi’s chest.

“In,” chest expanded. “Out.” Cool air against her face.

Slowly but surely, Azzi was able to breathe on her own. When she recognized where she was, she broke.

This is so embarrassing. Fuck. What kind of person has panic attacks in front of their boss? Of course Paige wouldn’t want her now.

Heart wrenching sobs came out as fast as her tears. She was pulled forward, head burrowing in Paige’s chest. Paige just let her get it out. Didn’t rush her. Didn’t sigh impatiently. Didn’t do anything. Just held her and let her cry.

After a while, Azzi calmed down.

“Do you want some water? Or tea?” The blonde offered kindly.

“Can you tell me what happened? What set you off?” Paige asked quietly.

Azzi pulled away a little, wrapping her arms around herself. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“Why?” Paige tilted her chin up until Azzi’s eyes were on her.

“I couldn’t make up my mind. Couldn’t answer.” Her voice was small. “I thought… I thought you wanted the right answer. I don’t even know what you like yet.”

Paige nodded. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t asking for a certain answer.” She paused. “Does that make you anxious?”

“I don’t like to be wrong. I don’t like getting yelled at.” Azzi’s eyes dropped again.

“Thank you for telling me that, Azzi. I won’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best to remember that. Was there anything else that you were worried about?”

Paige’s hand dropped to Azzi’s knee, stopping the bouncing she wasn’t even aware of. Azzi’s eyes locked on hers. Paige’s thumb brushed gently over her knee, anchoring her.

“Making choices makes me nervous sometimes. Grant didn’t let me, and when I did, he always said something mean.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry for kicking you out of your bed. I didn’t mean to sleep over.” She finished, cheeks pink.

Paige’s smile bloomed — real and full. It knocked the breath from Azzi’s chest. It was perfect. “That’s okay! I wanted you to rest. And if it’ll help, I can give you suggestions? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you think it’ll help, I don’t mind.”

Azzi felt her brows crease as she thought about Paige’s proposition. There was an appeal to not having to think through every choice she made, but she wasn’t sure she could completely trust Paige to lead her. Sure, she’d been great so far, but she could change.

She eyed Paige warily before the blonde added, “We could try it out today, and tonight, you can let me know how it felt. If you like it, we can keep doing it, but if you don’t, we can think of something else.”

Azzi felt herself nodding. Her brain hadn’t even finished processing the information.

Her body felt safe before her mind allowed it. Maybe, just maybe, she could believe it was real.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi nervously followed Paige into the kitchen. “So, what now? Are you just gonna control me, but be nicer than Grant?”

Paige had to take a deep grounding breath to keep her temper. “I know that’s what it felt like with him, but that’s not what I want. I don’t want to control you. I want to care for you. But I need your help to figure out what that looks like.”

Her eyes tracked the slim body moving around the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand.” She swallowed, “I– it’s just that this really scares me. And I feel bad because you haven’t done anything to me, but I’m terrified I’m making the wrong choices.”

“That’s why we’re trying this out today, Azzi.” She smiled. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but I’ll keep trying things until we find something that helps you.”

Warmth bloomed in Azzi’s chest. Paige was still being kind — still not shaming her, still patient. Maybe she really could trust her.

“I hated hearing how you talked about yourself yesterday.” Paige’s voice was quiet, hands steady as she chopped strawberries. “You didn’t deserve that. You’re worth so much more than the things he made you believe, and I’ll remind you until it starts to feel true.”

Paige moved to the fridge, “I am gonna make smoothies, eggs, and bacon. Do you like all of those?”

“Yes,” Azzi said, with a nod.

“Good. Thank you for telling me.” She moved around the kitchen, collecting bananas, yogurt, and chia seeds. “Do you want spinach in your smoothie?”

Azzi nodded, eye catching the clock on the Echo Show. “It’s getting pretty late. Can I go get Soleil up?”

“Yes, thank you.” While Azzi was sliding off the bar stool, Paige continued. “After breakfast, I want to speak with you. I want you to think about things you do well and things you struggle with.”

Azzi’s pulse picked up, head bobbing.

“There aren’t any right or wrong answers, as long as you try your best, it’ll be perfect.” Paige finished with a bright smile.

Azzi nodded, trying to carry Paige’s steadiness with her as she walked toward the room with the yellow door. The curly headed girl was sprawled across her bed, mouth wide open. She walked up to the bed, kneeling near Soleil’s head.

“Good morning, Sunny Girl.” Azzi whispered, rubbing circles onto Soleil’s back. “It’s time to wake up, baby.”

A pout formed on Soleil’s lips and a grunt fell from her mouth.

“Mommy’s making breakfast.” Azzi continued, brushing wild hair for her little face.

Blue eyes peeked open and widened quickly. “Azzi, you’we hewe again!” Soleil exclaimed, throwing her arms around the woman’s neck.

“Yes, I’m still here, Sunny Girl.” She said, wrapping her arms around the girl and lifting her to her hip.

“You staying all day?” Soleil’s big blue eyes inquisitive.

She nodded back at the girl. “Mhmm. Let’s go have breakfast.” She finished with a light tap to Soleil’s button nose.

The duo moved back into the kitchen, giggling about nothing as Paige poured smoothies into three glasses.

“Good morning, Pretty Girl,” Soleil wiggled from Azzi’s arms, running to her mom.

“Hi, Mommy. Can I pray for breakfast?” Soleil asked, adorable smile on her face.

Soleil prayed, allowing all three ladies to eat breakfast. The girl bounced questions off both women. How do wainbows wowk? Can we have chicken for lunch? When do I go back to school? But I want Azzi to be my teachew. Can she teach me? So, I only have to go to school in the mownings? Can I go make a bwacelet for Azzi?

After Paige gave an affirmative answer to the last question, Soleil shot off to her art corner in a blur of pink and white.

“She’s the best,” Azzi smiled, watching her run away.

There was a comfortable silence, well, until Paige ruined it. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Azzi. But have you thought about what I asked you earlier?”

“I know what I’m bad at. It’s always in the back of my mind, but it’s gotten louder since I saw him.” Azzi looked at her hands, shame flooding her body.

Paige’s hand came to the back of Azzi’s neck, quieting her thoughts a bit. “That’s okay; that’s what we’re working on. Does it bother you when I do this?” Paige questioned, squeezing a little.

“No,” Azzi said, shaking her head. “It makes my head go quiet. It helped when you did it in the meeting, and it helps now.”

“Okay. So, you like physical touch?” A nod. “Good. So that’s one thing you like. What’s something you like about yourself?”

“I’m kinda – I think I’m good at seeing people? What they feel. What they like. The little things. Like Soleil likes to eat in someone’s lap; it makes her feel bigger. I think I’m good at seeing stuff like that.”

Paige smiled again. “You are really good at that, Azzi. You see everyone, and you care enough to notice and remember things about all people.”

Azzi followed the blonde’s figure as she walked to one of the cabinets, grabbing two mugs and the electric kettle. “Your hands are shaking, which I understand. This is a hard conversation, but you’re doing a good job. Do you think tea will help? It may give you more time to think if you want.”

“Yes, thank you. Do you have chamomile or lavender?” Azzi asked, relaxing a little.

Paige made the tea quietly, letting thoughts race through Azzi’s mind.

She set down two mugs of tea on the island gently.

Paige didn’t push. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”

Azzi stared at her tea, swirling the spoon inside like it could stir up an answer. “I don’t think I’m good at a lot of things,” she started, voice thin. “I mean, I try to be. But I mess things up. Or I get overwhelmed. Or I freeze.”

Paige said nothing, only waited.

“I used to think I was good at teaching. Or at least good with kids.” Her brow furrowed. “But now, I don’t know if I was good or just lucky.”

Paige interjected, voice calm. “They fired you because you are gay. Don’t let them erase all the good you’ve done. You’re amazing with Soleil. That’s not luck.”

Azzi’s shoulders lifted and fell. She looked so unsure, so close to retreating.

“I think I’m good at comforting people. Or at least I want to be.” She muttered.

Paige smiled, not wide, but full of pride. “You are. You’re so good at that, Azzi. You’re gentle, and you listen. I know all your students feel safe with you. Especially Soleil.”

Azzi flushed, blinking hard.

Paige reached out again, this time placing her hand over Azzi’s fidgeting ones. She stilled them with a soft squeeze.

“Now tell me what you struggle with.” A quiet, but firm expectation.

Azzi froze, then slowly unraveled.

“I struggle with making decisions. I second guess everything, and Grant didn’t really let me make choices. And now I always think I’ll mess it up or disappoint someone.”

“Okay, we can work on that. Go on.” Paige encouraged, thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“I get scared of being wrong. And being alone. And of people getting mad at me. Even if they’re not. I try to fix it before it happens. I – I want people to be happy with me. I think they will stay if I can make them happy.” Her breath hitched. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what I want. I don’t know what’s really me and what’s just me trying to be good enough.”

Paige’s hand moved to Azzi’s cheek, grounding her.

“You don’t have to know everything yet,” she said quietly. “But if you want, I can help you learn what feels right for you. And if you get overwhelmed, I’ll be right here. I’ll give you choices, not tests.”

Azzi’s eyes were glassy, lip quivering. “But what if I get it wrong?”

Paige leaned forward, voice low and steady. “Then I’ll help you try again. That’s all this is, Az. Trying.” She tucked a curl behind Azzi’s ear. “And if you want structure, I can give it to you. Gently. Just enough to make the day easier. You’ll always have the final say.”

Azzi nodded, tears slipping freely now. Paige let her feel it, all of it.

“Can you tell me one more thing you like about yourself?” Paige asked.

Azzi thought for a long time. “I’m loyal,” she finally said. “Even when people don’t deserve it. And I keep secrets. I don’t talk about people behind their backs. I – I really try to be kind.”

Paige nodded. “You are kind. You’re thoughtful, and brave even when you don’t feel it. You don’t give up, even when it’s hard.” She paused, gently tilting her chin up. Once blue met brown, she added, “I’m proud of you for telling me all of this. You did such a good job, Azzi. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Azzi nods shakily, voice small. “I’m scared. But I want to learn. If you’ll help me.”

[theonottsbxtch]

THE PRINCESS AND THE DRIVER PT.2| MV1

an: ahh i'm really enjoying writing this dynamic, although this isn't set in the victorian era. i am a SUCKER for historial romance so this feels very similiar.

wc: 5.5k

part one

Two nights later, under the cover of darkness, the princess found herself slipping through the quiet halls of the palace again. She knew Lukas had warned her not to sneak out, but the pull to return to the track was stronger than the caution in her mind. She missed the feeling of freedom, the wind against her face, and—though she hadn’t admitted it to herself fully yet—Max’s easy company. The memory of the last race, of his smile, of the way she’d felt like a completely different person, made her restless.

She had to go back.

The stable yard was silent, the smell of hay and leather heavy in the air. The familiar path to the hidden exit was just ahead, tucked behind the horses’ stalls. Her heart raced with excitement, and she moved quickly, eager to feel that surge of adrenaline again.

But as she reached the spot, her steps faltered.

The small gap in the stable wall—her secret exit—was blocked. Heavy wooden planks had been nailed across the opening, crisscrossing over the stones, sealing it shut.

Her stomach dropped. She stared at it in disbelief, her pulse quickening for all the wrong reasons now. She hadn’t been gone long—only two days—but someone had found out. Someone had noticed.

No... not someone.

As if summoned by her very thoughts, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her.

“Princess,” came a familiar, deep voice.

She turned slowly, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. The head of the royal guard, Commander Alfred, stood just a few feet away. His tall, imposing figure seemed to fill the space around them, his grey uniform stark against the soft, moonlit stable. His expression was calm, but there was a hardness in his eyes that made her stomach twist.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t try this again,” Alfred said, his voice low but firm.

Her mouth went dry. Her mind scrambled for something to say, an excuse, anything, but nothing came. Instead, she just stood there, frozen, caught like a child sneaking out past curfew. The thrill of the night evaporated, replaced by a cold dread settling into her bones.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on this exit for a few days now,” Alfred continued, stepping forward with measured, deliberate steps. “I saw you the other night. I didn’t say anything, hoping you wouldn’t make it a habit. But here you are.”

Her throat tightened. “I just... I needed some air,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Alfred studied her for a moment, his stern gaze softening ever so slightly. He let out a slow breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a princess,” he said, his tone gentler now, but still unyielding. “The world outside these walls isn’t safe for you. There are risks you can’t see—people who would take advantage of you, who wouldn’t think twice about using your title against you. You can’t just... sneak out and pretend none of that matters.”

The weight of his words pressed down on her, heavier than her own guilt. She knew he was right. But that didn’t make it easier to swallow. All she had wanted was a few moments where she didn’t have to be the princess, where she could just be... herself. Not the heir, not the symbol of royal duty. Just a girl who liked racing karts and laughing with a stranger who didn’t know her name.

But now, even that small slice of freedom was being taken away.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly.

Alfred nodded once, his face unreadable. “Go back to your room, Your Highness,” he said, his tone final. “It’s late.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. There was no arguing with Alfred, not when he was right. Slowly, defeated, she turned and walked back toward the palace, her heart heavy with disappointment.

As she crossed the yard and disappeared into the dim halls of the palace, she felt the sting of tears building behind her eyes. She blinked them back, forcing herself to hold it together until she reached her room.

Once inside, the silence of her chambers was deafening. The weight of everything—the closed exit, Alfred’s disapproving words, the suffocating sense of responsibility—pressed down on her all at once.

She sank onto the edge of her bed, burying her face in her hands as the tears finally came.

She hadn’t realised just how much she needed that escape until it was taken away from her. The walls of the palace suddenly felt smaller, closing in on her, trapping her in a life she wasn’t sure she could keep living. The image of the boarded-up exit flashed in her mind, a cruel reminder that her freedom, however small, had been ripped away.

She curled up on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest as the sobs wracked through her. The palace, her family, the expectations—it all felt too heavy, too impossible to carry. She thought about Max, the thrill of the track, the brief joy she’d found in being someone else, and how, for a few short hours, it had made her feel alive again.

But now, that world seemed farther away than ever. Untouchable.

The tears kept coming, long after the moon had risen high in the sky. And when she finally stopped crying, the exhaustion weighed her down like a blanket, pulling her into a restless sleep.

For the next few days, she didn’t leave her room. She couldn’t bring herself to face anyone, not even Lukas, who she knew had done everything he could to protect her secret. She felt numb, lost in the overwhelming sense of disappointment that she couldn’t shake.

No one came to question her absence from meals or the usual royal duties. Maybe they thought she was unwell—sick with some quiet illness that kept her hidden away. In a way, she was.

Because now, more than ever, she felt like a prisoner in her own life.

Days had turned into a week, and she still hadn't left her room.

At first, her absence had gone unnoticed. It wasn’t uncommon for her to retreat after the long banquets, charity events, and royal meetings that often took up her time. The palace staff had simply assumed she was taking a break, maybe indulging in some much-needed rest.

But as the days dragged on, it became clear that something wasn’t right.

She barely ate. Meals delivered to her chambers sat untouched on the tray by her door. The curtains remained drawn tight, shutting out the warm autumn sunlight, and her once neat and orderly space had become a mess of discarded clothes and rumpled sheets. The sparkle that usually lit up her presence had dimmed, buried under a weight that no one could see but everyone felt.

Her ladies-in-waiting whispered among themselves, their voices low as they passed in the corridors. They traded worried glances, unsure of what to do. Should they call the Queen? Inform the King? She had never stayed hidden away like this before—not like this. Even when she needed space, she always re-emerged, ready to face her responsibilities. But now, the princess seemed... lost.

Her mother was the first to express concern openly.

One afternoon, as the palace staff hurried about preparing for a royal dinner, the Queen stopped one of her ladies-in-waiting in the hall. The Queen had always been poised and composed, but there was an unmistakable hint of worry in her sharp green eyes.

“How is she?” she asked, her voice tight, betraying more emotion than she intended.

The young woman fidgeted under the Queen’s gaze, lowering her head. “She’s been... resting, Your Majesty. But she hasn’t left her room in days. I don’t think she’s well.”

The Queen’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Has she spoken to anyone?”

“No, Your Majesty. She’s refused visitors.”

The Queen’s worry deepened. She had always been headstrong, independent. But this felt different. Something was wrong. And it wasn’t just the physical withdrawal—it was the silence. She had never shut herself off like this before, and the Queen couldn’t shake the sense that her daughter was sinking into something far deeper than exhaustion.

The next day the King himself stepped into her chambers, expecting to find his daughter reading or quietly working through whatever troubled her. But when he saw her lying on the bed, her back turned to the door, still wearing the same clothes from days ago, the sight struck him harder than he’d expected.

“Darling,” he said gently, stepping into the room.

She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge his presence.

The King’s brow furrowed. His daughter had always been the stronger one, the one who pushed through no matter the burden placed on her. But the stillness in the room, the absence of life in her usually vibrant eyes—it unsettled him.

He walked to her side, sitting down on the edge of her bed. For a long moment, he simply watched her, unsure of what to say. As King, he was used to fixing things, solving problems, and making decisions. But this... this felt like something he couldn’t fix with words or power.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he asked softly. “Talk to me.”

She remained silent, her gaze fixed on the wall, eyes red-rimmed and empty. She didn’t trust herself to speak. If she opened her mouth, she was afraid she might fall apart completely, and that scared her more than anything.

The King sighed, reaching out to gently touch her hand. “You don’t have to do this alone, darling. Whatever it is, you can tell us. We’ll help.”

But she didn’t respond, her body tense under his touch. She didn’t know how to explain what she was feeling—the pressure, the emptiness, the suffocating weight of her title, her future, and everything in between. And the only escape she had found—the one place where she could breathe—had been taken from her.

The King remained by her side for a few more minutes, but eventually, he rose, his expression more worried than when he’d entered. He had hoped she would open up, give him some clue as to what was going on, but her silence spoke louder than any words could.

As he left the room, he quietly summoned Commander Alfred. The head of the royal guard appeared swiftly, his usual stoic expression in place. But even he couldn’t hide the concern that flickered in his eyes when the King spoke.

“Have you noticed anything unusual about the princess lately?” The King asked, his tone quiet but filled with authority.

Alfred’s jaw tightened. He knew precisely what was troubling her. He had been the one to stop her the night she tried to sneak out again. And though he had done his duty, he regretted the way it had crushed her. But now, standing before the King, he couldn’t very well admit he had allowed her escapades to go on unnoticed for so long.

“Your Majesty,” Alfred began carefully, “I believe the princess has been under a great deal of stress. It’s possible she’s... struggling with the weight of her responsibilities.”

The King frowned, frustration creeping into his expression. “We all have responsibilities, Alfred. But she has never shut down like this before. This is different.”

Alfred hesitated, his mind racing. Should he tell the King about the racing, about the brief moments of rebellion that had clearly meant so much to her? It wasn’t his place to reveal such things, especially when the princess had already been punished for it in her own way.

Instead, he simply nodded. “I will keep an eye on her, Your Majesty. But I believe she needs time.”

The King gave a short nod, though his unease was palpable. “Time. Yes. But not too much time. If this goes on any longer, we’ll have to intervene.”

That night the moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the palace grounds. Inside her room, the shadows loomed larger than life, stretching across the walls like silent sentinels. She lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling like the dust motes dancing in the moonlight. She had tried to find solace in sleep, but each time she closed her eyes, her mind spiralled back to the karting track—the laughter, the thrill, the fleeting moments of freedom that now felt like a distant memory.

As the clock struck midnight, a soft creak broke the stillness of her room. She turned her head, heart racing. The door slowly opened, and Lukas slipped inside, his silhouette cutting through the darkness.

“Your Highness,” he whispered, urgency lacing his tone. “I know you’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” she gasped, sitting up quickly. “You can’t be in here!”

Lukas held a finger to his lips, a mischievous grin breaking through the concern etched on his face. “Shhh! Just trust me. I need you to change. I brought something for you.”

He reached into the bag slung over his shoulder, pulling out a pair of dark jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and a lightweight jacket. “You need to get out of here.”

Her heart pounded as she processed his words. “What? But Lukas, I can’t just—”

“Please, princess. You’ve been stuck in this room for too long. You need to breathe. Change quickly!” He urged, his tone more serious now.

Despite her hesitation, a flicker of hope ignited in her chest. She nodded, her resolve strengthening. “Alright,” she murmured, taking the clothes from him. “But you have to promise this is safe.”

“I promise,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with determination. “I’ll be right here.”

She hurried to the bathroom to change, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. The soft fabric felt foreign against her skin after days of wearing nothing but the same loungewear. She took a deep breath, catching her reflection in the mirror—her eyes still heavy with sleepless nights, but the spark of rebellion ignited within her once more.

When she emerged, Lukas was waiting, a grin on his face as he took in her new look. “You look ready for an adventure.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she breathed, feeling exhilarated yet terrified.

“Don’t worry. Just follow me.” He took her hand, leading her through the darkened corridors of the palace, down the stairs and into the depths of the guard quarters.

After what felt like an eternity of cautious footsteps and whispered exchanges, they reached a door that she had never noticed before. It was tucked away at the far end of the guard barracks, partially concealed by a thick tapestry.

Lukas turned to her, his expression serious. “This is a guard exit. It’ll take you out to the stables, but you need to move quickly. Once you’re outside, make your way to the track.”

Her heart raced at the thought of being outside the palace walls, free once again. “And you?”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on things from a distance. If you need anything, just call. But you have to promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t afford to let anyone know you’re gone.”

As he spoke, he reached into his bag and pulled out the helmet she had been gifted the last time she was at the track. “Here. Take this. It’s yours now.”

She stared at the helmet, a mixture of gratitude and exhilaration washing over her. “Thank you, Lukas. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

He smiled softly, but there was an intensity in his gaze. “You deserve to feel free, princess. You deserve more than what this palace offers. Now go. Run.”

She stepped forward, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace was warm and reassuring, a promise of friendship and loyalty in a world where she often felt so alone.

Lukas held her for a moment longer, then gently pulled away. “I’ll be right here, watching you,” he promised.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and nodded. The door creaked open, revealing the moonlit stables beyond. She could feel the cool night air beckoning her, the thrill of adventure coursing through her veins.

With a final glance back at Lukas, she stepped through the door and into the night. The world outside felt alive, electric with possibilities. She sprinted toward the stables, adrenaline surging as she imagined the karting track waiting for her, the laughter of her new friends echoing in her mind.

As she reached the edge of the stables, she turned to look back one last time, seeing Lukas standing by the door, watching her with a proud smile.

Then she turned and ran, feeling like she was breaking free for the first time in ages. The track awaited, and with it, the promise of freedom.

Her heart raced as she sprinted down the familiar path leading to the karting track. The thrill of freedom surged through her with each stride, the cool night air whipping around her. She had longed for this moment, to feel the exhilaration of the track beneath her feet, the adrenaline that coursed through her veins as she raced.

But as she burst through the gates, her excitement faltered. The track felt eerily quiet, devoid of the laughter and energy that had once filled the air. The karts sat silently in their spots, the pit area dark and still, the bleachers looming like forgotten memories. Disappointment washed over her as she realised she might have come back to an empty space, a place that had felt so alive just days ago.

“Pity” she muttered, her voice echoing into the void.

Feeling the weight of solitude, she hesitated at the edge of the track. She had envisioned this moment—the thrill of the race, the rush of speed—but now it felt as though the universe had conspired to leave her alone once again.

Just as she turned to leave, something caught her eye. A figure sat cross-legged on the ground near the barrier, partially obscured by shadows. Curiosity piqued, she squinted, and her heart leapt when she recognized the silhouette.

“Max?” she called, the name tumbling from her lips as a rush of hope surged within her.

He looked up, surprise washing over his face, and in an instant, he stood up, a wide smile spreading across his features. “Angel!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Without thinking, she rushed toward him, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footsteps. The distance between them vanished in an instant as she barreled into him, relief and joy overwhelming her senses.

Max caught her in a warm embrace, and the world around them faded. “I can’t believe you came back! I thought maybe you weren’t going to,” he said, his voice warm and sincere as he held her tight.

“I missed it too much,” she admitted, pulling back to look into his eyes. “And I missed you.”

He stepped back slightly, his gaze searching hers, and there was a moment of stillness between them. The excitement of their connection lingered in the air, an unspoken understanding that made her heart flutter.

“I was here the whole time, waiting for you to show up again,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You really know how to make an entrance.”

She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. “I almost didn’t make it. I was worried I’d be the only one here.”

Max shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, I couldn’t stay away either. This place is too good to abandon. Plus, I was hoping you’d come back. I wanted to see how you were doing after our last race.”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” she replied, her heart swelling at the thought of their last adventure together. “It was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Same here,” he said, his expression softening. “It felt real, you know? Just us, no pressures, no expectations. I’ve missed having that, it’s been a long time.”

She felt her cheeks warm at his words. “I’ve missed that too. It’s hard to explain why. Everything in my life feels… complicated.”

He nodded, understanding glimmering in his eyes. “I get it. Sometimes you just want to escape from everything. That’s why I love coming here. It’s my little slice of freedom. I came here once a year with my mother and I come back each year.”

“It feels like no one cares who you are or what you’re supposed to be here.”

Max stepped back, his eyes playful. “So, you ready for another round? I’ve been practising, and I’m pretty sure I can beat you this time.”

“Is that a challenge?” she teased, feeling her competitive spirit ignite.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his smile wide. “But you’d better keep up.”

As they walked toward the karts, she couldn’t shake the feeling of exhilaration that buzzed through her. The emptiness she had felt moments ago faded, replaced by the warmth of their connection. Here, with Max, she was just a girl—not a princess, not a royal burdened by expectations.

They reached the karts, and Max gestured for her to take the lead. “You go first. I’ll watch you and see if I can learn a thing or two.”

Shr grinned, her nerves dissipating as she settled into the familiar seat of the kart. “Okay, but don’t blame me if I leave you in the dust!”

As she tightened the helmet over her head, Max’s laughter filled the air, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she felt free. The night stretched ahead of them, full of possibilities, and with a deep breath, she fired up the engine.

The engines fell silent as she and Max brought their karts to a stop, both panting from the thrill of the race. The air was thick with the scent of gasoline and the excitement that still hummed between them. As they climbed out of their karts, a shared laughter lingered in the air, buoyed by the adrenaline that coursed through their veins.

Max leaned against his kart, catching his breath, his eyes sparkling with exhilaration. “You really held your own out there,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I thought I was going to lose for a moment.”

She smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Well, don’t get too used to it. I’ll get better every time,” she replied playfully, wiping the sweat from her brow.

But as their laughter faded, the atmosphere shifted. The thrill of competition transformed into something deeper. Max’s gaze lingered on her, his expression softening as the playful banter shifted into a moment filled with unspoken understanding. They stepped closer, the warmth between them drawing them together, filling the space with a tension that felt electric.

Max brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek, and her breath hitched in her throat. In that moment, the world around them faded away—the empty track, the quiet night—everything became a distant blur. The only thing that mattered was the connection they shared, the desire that surged like wildfire between them.

“Schjate,” Max said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Her heart raced at his words, and she felt a rush of emotions bubbling to the surface. “Me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about our last race.”

As their eyes locked, the air around them crackled with intensity. Without thinking, they moved closer together, their breaths mingling as Max leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that ignited the night.

It started softly, a gentle brush of lips that deepened as the world melted away around them. Her heart soared as she kissed him back, savouring the sweetness of the moment. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, as if he were afraid she might slip away. She melted against him, losing herself in the warmth of his embrace.

Their kiss was filled with a mix of exhilaration and longing, each moment stretching into eternity. Time seemed to pause as they lost themselves in each other, the warmth of his body grounding her in a way she had never experienced before. Every doubt, every fear faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in that electrifying moment.

But as they finally broke apart, a rush of reality crashed down on her. She stepped back, her heart racing, panic rising in her chest. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Why?” Max asked, confusion clouding his eyes as he searched her face. “It felt right, didn’t it?”

She turned away, trying to catch her breath as her thoughts raced. “I can’t offer you anything,” she admitted, the weight of the words heavy on her tongue.

“Why not?” he pressed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “What do you mean?”

“Because I can’t just… be with you like this,” she said, her chest tightening. “It’s complicated.”

His brow furrowed as he stepped closer, determination shining in his eyes. “What’s complicated about it? It’s just us here.”

“No, it’s not just us!” She exclaimed, her voice rising. “You don’t understand what I’m giving up.”

“What are you giving up?” he asked, his voice laced with hurt. “What do you think this is? I’m not just some guy to you.”

“No, you’re not,” she replied, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “But I can’t pretend that this is simple. I have responsibilities—things I can’t just ignore.”

Max’s expression shifted, disbelief etched on his face. “Responsibilities? What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m the princess of this country!” she blurted out, her heart racing as she revealed the truth she had kept hidden.

Silence fell between them, the weight of her confession hanging in the air. Max’s eyes widened, shock replacing the warmth that had just been there. “Wait… what?”

“I have a life I can’t escape from,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t be with someone when everything I do has consequences.”

Max took a step back, the hurt in his eyes cutting deeper than any blade. “So that’s it? You’re just going to run away because of some title?”

“No!” she cried, tears threatening to spill over. “I wish it were that easy. But I can’t risk everything for something that might not even be real!”

The tension crackled between them, pain and frustration hanging thick in the air. He shook his head, disbelief etched on his features. “So what that kiss was fake? An act of pity?”

“I don’t know what that was,” she admitted, her heart aching. “But I can’t let myself get lost in it. I have too much at stake.”

Max’s expression softened for a moment, but the hurt lingered. “And what if this is your chance to find something real?”

“I can’t take that chance!” she replied, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry, Max.”

With that, she watched as he turned away, the distance between them feeling insurmountable. Her heart shattered as she took in the sight of him walking away, the warmth of their moment fading into the night. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realised the weight of her choice, the finality of what she had just done.

“Max,” she whispered, but the words were lost in the night.

As he disappeared into the shadows, she felt an unbearable ache in her chest, the reality of her world crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She turned away, her heart heavy, and made her way back to the palace, each step feeling like a loss.

The thrill of racing, the taste of freedom, and the warmth of connection had been swept away, leaving only a hollow ache where joy once resided. As she walked through the familiar halls of the palace, the burden of her title felt heavier than ever, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had lost something precious.

As she made her way back to the palace, the cool night air felt sharp against her skin, mirroring the ache in her chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, the thrill of her escape now replaced by a deep sense of loss. The weight of her reality bore down on her, and she could hardly breathe as tears streamed down her cheeks, each drop a cruel reminder of what had just happened.

The familiar silhouette of the palace loomed ahead, its grand façade illuminated softly in the moonlight. It had always felt like a sanctuary, but tonight it felt more like a prison, trapping her within its walls of expectation and duty. She quickened her pace, desperate to escape the memories of her time with Max, yet somehow knowing that they would haunt her no matter where she went.

As she approached the entrance, she spotted Lukas standing near the guard post, his usual stoic demeanour replaced by an expression of concern. The moment he saw her, his brow furrowed, and he stepped forward, instinctively sensing that something was terribly wrong.

“Princess?” he called, his voice low but urgent. “What happened? You look—”

Before he could finish, she crumpled, the weight of her emotions crashing over her like a wave. Without a word, she rushed into his arms, burying her face against his chest as sobs wracked her body. The warmth of his embrace felt like a lifeline, and she clung to him, desperately seeking solace.

Lukas stiffened for a moment, clearly taken aback, but then his arms encircled her, holding her close as she cried. “Princess, what’s wrong?” he murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked her hair gently. “Talk to me.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she looked up at him. “I—I can’t,” she stammered, struggling to catch her breath. “I messed everything up, Lukas.”

“Take your time,” he encouraged, his voice steady and calming. “Just breathe. You’re safe here.”

With a shuddering breath, she began to pour out the words that had been trapped inside her, the turmoil spilling forth like a dam breaking. “I went back to the track, and I saw Max,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “We raced again, and it was incredible. I felt so free, so alive. But then… we kissed, and it was everything I wanted, but I can’t have it. I can’t be with him.”

Lukas’s expression softened, and he held her tighter as she continued. “He thinks it’s real, but I can’t offer him anything, not with who I am. I’m a princess, and I have responsibilities. I can’t just run away and live a normal life.”

Lukas remained silent for a moment, absorbing her words. “Princess,” he finally said, his voice low and earnest, “you deserve to be happy. It’s okay to want something for yourself.”

“But what I want isn’t an option,” she replied, shaking her head, her tears still flowing. “I can’t put him in danger because of my title. I can’t risk my responsibilities for a fleeting moment of happiness. It’s not fair to him.”

“I understand that it feels complicated,” Lukas said, his tone gentle yet firm, “but you can’t sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of your duty. You deserve to feel loved and to have someone who cares about you.”

“I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But it’s all too much. I thought I could be someone else, even just for a little while, but I can’t escape who I am.”

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression earnest. “Princess, running away from your responsibilities won’t change who you are, but it doesn’t mean you can’t find moments of joy. You have the right to seek happiness, even in a world that tries to dictate how you should live.”

She met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “But what if it all falls apart? What if I lose everything?”

“You won’t lose everything,” he reassured her, his grip tightening around her shoulders. “You have to take risks sometimes. You won’t know what could happen unless you allow yourself to find out.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for the first time that night, she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, a small voice whispering that maybe there was a way to reconcile her desires with her duties.

“But what if I mess it up again?” she asked, her voice still shaky.

“Then you try again,” Lukas replied softly, a small smile breaking through the concern etched on his face. “You’re not alone in this. I’ll be here to help you navigate it. You can’t let fear dictate your life.”

As she looked into his eyes, she felt the bond of their years deepen. He had always been there, her steadfast protector, and tonight he was more than just a guard—he was a confidant.

“Thank you, Lukas,” she whispered, gratitude swelling in her heart. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he assured her, his tone lightening. “Now, let’s get you inside before anyone else sees you like this. You deserve a moment to breathe, away from everything.”

[alotofpockets]

Made with love | Kika Nazareth x Adhd!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Did the baby just kick?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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Talking about having a baby with Kika had always been all over the place, a bit chaotic even. Conversations would always be left half-finished, jumping from topic to topic. But in the end one thing was clear, you both wanted to start a family.

When Kika transferred to Barça, the team where you had already been playing for a few years, you both knew it was the perfect time to start trying for a baby. You had both decided that you would carry, so Kika could settle into her new club. Never had you thought that you would get pregnant so quickly though, it was only the second try when you had gotten a positive result on the pregnancy test. While you hadn’t expected it to be so soon, the both of you were over the moon to get the news.

Your first trimester has been going great. You told the club, your teammates, and family, they were all super excited when they heard the news. The club setup a training plan for you to be able to continue light training for a while. They had honestly been a big help in figuring everything out regarding your help.

The hardest part so far hadn’t been morning sickness, or anything else you had been prepared for from reading up on the first trimester. No, it had been something that had taken you fully by surprise. The doctors had recommended you to stop taking your ADHD medication during your pregnancy. You wanted what was best for the baby, so of course you listened to their advice. But it has really been a struggle in your day to day.

Your meds usually help keep your mind on track. Now, without them your thoughts were all over the place. Taking your vitamins, drinking enough water, all the small things that were really important, just slipped your mind so much easier without your medication. It was like a constant puzzle in your mind, that you did not have enough energy for to solve.

It was really frustrating, not just because it was a struggle, but because you knew you were capable of these things. Over the years you had found ways to work with your brain, your own system to do everything you wanted to and needed to, but now that system just would not stick.

Luckily, Kika had been incredible with it all. When she was home, she made sure that your vitamins were already next to your breakfast plate. She left filled water bottles all around the house when she noticed that you would drink more if they were just there. Every appointment was neatly organised in your shared calendar by her, including notifications.

When she wasn’t at home, because she had to leave early for training, she left a trail of post-it notes. You would find more and more each day. Don’t forget to hydrate! or The baby says good morning and is hungry for some toast. Little reminders you would find throughout the day. Some were on your phone, so it would be the first thing you saw in the morning, others were on the fridge, the mirror, or the door before you would head out yourself. You loved finding the little reminders around the house. They made life a little easier, she made life a little easier. It was nice knowing that even when she wasn’t there, you weren’t alone in this.

While you were getting dressed for training, you heard Kika make all kinds of noises in the kitchen that had gotten you very curious. “What are you working on there?” You asked as you rounded the corner. She turned to you with a bright smile, holding up a glass willed with a green liquid. “I made you a smoothie.”

“A smoothie?” You questioned, you had never before had a smoothie before training, so you wondered where her idea had come from. “Yeah, spinach, banana, avocado, yoghurt, chia seeds, and some other ingredients.” She walked towards you with the glass, “It’s good for the baby, drink up.” She kissed your cheek after handing you the glass.

You took a sip, a little weary of the random ingredients Kika just listed, but you trusted her judgement. “Hm, that’s actually really good.” You tell her. “Of course, when have I ever made you something that didn’t taste good?” She said with a slight smirk on her face. “You’re right, darling, thank you.”

Kika drove the two of you to training. While you had your own light training session, you were still able to travel together today, and Kika would not let you drive anywhere if she was able to drive you. “I’m not carrying the baby, so I want to do as much extra stuff as I can to help out.” She had said, and of course you would not deny her feeling more useful during your pregnancy. 

You talked with a few of the girls in the locker room before heading to your own training. While you were very grateful for the way the staff had been accompanying you during your pregnancy, you really missed not being out on the pitch with the rest of the girls. But you knew that no contact training was what was best for you right now, and you would do whatever was best for your baby.

Once you were done with some warm-up exercises, you headed to a separate pitch with the trainer. The rest of the girls were a couple of fields over, you could hear them playing around, which was a little distracting, but the trainer tried his best to keep your focus on your drills.

Then like clockwork, Kika showed up at your training. Not once since you had started your separate sessions, had she not shown up to check in. You shake your head at her when you see her leaning against the railing on the side of the field. 

“Mind if I take a quick break?” You ask your trainer, who by now must have been used to Kika showing up mid-session as well. He nods, “Yeah, go reassure her.” After sending him a thankful smile, you make your way over to Kika.

“Don’t you have your own training to be at?” You say jokingly. “Maybe.” She answers and pulls you in for a quick hug. “You know you don’t have to keep checking up on me, right? I’m in good hands here.”

“I’m not checking on you.” Kika says. “I’m checking on the baby.” She moves her hand onto your stomach. “Need to make sure someone is looking after them as well.” You smile and hold your hand over hers. “Don’t you worry, I’m always looking after them.”

Then for the first time ever, you felt something move in your stomach. For a second you were thrown off, but then Kika spoke up. "Did the baby just kick?" She had felt it too, and the moment she asked that, you knew she was right. “Yeah, I think so.” You say as your eyes well up.

Kika lifts one of her hands up to your cheek, “Our baby just kicked, and we both got to feel it for the first time.” Her eyes were filled with love, and you were so happy to have experienced this first together with her. 

Then Kika’s smile turned into a smirk, “See, me checking in makes the baby happy.” She proudly pecks your lips. You chuckle and shake your head, “Of course it does, the baby loves you. I love you.” Kika smiles, “I love you, and our little bean.”

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Man Called Danger 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can’t be denied. ~ short!late 30s reader

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

Note: I have no chill.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The morning comes too soon as you toss and turn through the night. You drag yourself out of bed and wrap yourself in your housecoat before braving the cold floors of the house. It isn’t a big place but it traps draughts like a tundra cavern.

You put on a pot of coffee to brew and go through your typical routine. That day is different as you listen for Eva. You told yourself last night, you’re going to lay off. You’re going to let her figure herself out.

As you take a jar of prepared overnight oats out of the fridge and fish out a protein bar for the mid-afternoon, you hear your sister sniff. She yawns as she enters. To your surprise and relief, she dressed, presentably so. She leans on the other side of the counter and flicks her lashes.

“Coffee?” She asks, sounding only a bit desperate.

“Some left,” you confirm.

She grumbles and comes around to get her own mug and pours with another yawn. You could say it. I told you so. I told you not to stay out late for your first day. At least she’s awake.

“Good luck,” you say as you zip up your small lunch bag.

“Right,” she turns and leans on the granite and blows over the mug. You peek over your shoulder as she narrows her eyes. “How did you find me last night?”

You withhold a sigh. You don’t want to argue. You don’t need her walking into her first day in a mood.

“Eva, we can talk later.”

She’s quiet, “really? You’re tracking me?”

You grab your mug, “I really need to get ready.”

“Sure,” she scoffs.

Silence roils and you make yourself face her. “I deleted it last night, okay? I meant it. You’re an adult. You’re going to do what you’re going to do.”

“You still did that,” she says.

“I did and I’m sorry,” you admit. “I won’t make excuses. We can’t keep doing this.” You chew your lip and tap your fingers on the porcelain cup, “I just hope this works out. It’ll be nice for you to have some extra cash.”

“Sure,” she shrugs.

You leave it. She’s going to simmer for a while. In her shoes, you would too. You take your coffee into the bathroom and put it on the counter. As you open the mirror to grab your face cleanser, you wince. You blow through your lips as you shut the reflective door.

You put the bottle down and untie your house coat. You roll up your camisole and cringe. You gently touch the tender spot along your ribs. It's bruised pretty good. The bone hurts too but you’re not too worried about a break.

You shudder and ignore the soreness as you go through the steps. Cleanse, moisturise, tone. Brush your teeth, figure out your hair. Then only a swipe of mascara, a tint of lip stain, and a subtle kiss from your blush stick. Natural but something. You were never one for the whole primer to highlighter parade.

You put on a striped blue blouse and a pair of grey herringbone pants. You spritz a bit of jasmine body spray over yourself then go to get your lunch and purse. You step into your leather loafers and shrug on your beige jacket.

“Eva, am I driving you?” You call down.

“Coming,” she scuffles around unseen before she appears.

If she isn’t in the best mood, she does look her best. She’s added a rosegold chain to her skirt and sweater combo, and a pair of slingback kitten heels, some earrings, and her face and hair are just perfectly done. Not too much, not too little. Her freckles peek through and give her a little extra character.

“Wow, you look nice,” you praise.

“Really? You look dead inside,” she snickers.

You’re relieved that she’s joking. You take it with a shrug, “Time of death, I’d say ten years ago.” She rolls her eyes, “you bring something to eat?”

“Nah, I looked up the place. It’s near Sage. I’ll go there.”

“Okay,” you accept. You’re not sure where she got the money to do so. You eat in chronically but she’s always out with her friends getting all the fancy lattes and fusions.

You head out, not used to the company. It's about time she got something going. She worked at the dentist office for a summer in high school but she hated her boss. You told her that she probably always will. Lord knows you’re no fan of yours.

“No pressure, but try to make this one work, Eva,” you say. “I called in a favour for it.”

“I know,” she snips. “You don’t need to remind me. I didn’t ask, you know?”

“I’m not—I just—I only want the best,” you resign. “I shouldn’t project. I know you will do wonderfully.”

She blows a raspberry, “alright, cheesy.”

You steer along the usual route. Her building is only a block from yours. You drop her off like you would outside school. Her teen years were rough. For you, but not her. After you left her with your mom, you made sure she got to graduation. You feel like you owe her so much more for abandoning her for so long. If you hadn’t though, would you be here? Would you be able to get her out at all?

You continue down to your office building. There’s a loud rumble behind you. A motorcycle. You hate the things. They remind you of someone you’d rather not think of. Not to mention they’re noisy and put out pollution like crazy.

You flip on your blinker as the early morning rider skims past you. Your parking past dangles from the rear view as you find a spot in the grid. You gather up your things and ready yourself for another day.

You march inside and opt for the stairs. You try to skip the elevator at least three times a week. Your job keeps you idle far too much. Even with a standing desk. As you climb, your breath picks up and the bruise on your side throbs. You should’ve popped some advil.

You get to your floor and get yourself set up. You raise the desk and straighten the standing mat. You sign into your station and start down the new list of orders. As you ease into the morning, others arrive and groggily do the same.

Your fingers skitter over the keyboard in a flurry. As you send another request to the mail dock, a shadow appears in your peripheral. Mr. Walker leans the corner of your desk. For a moment, you wonder if he has a brother or cousin that likes to troll the bars for young girls.

Your boss puts his other hand on his hip. Even with your desk raised, he dwarfs it with his size. You pause your typing and look at him.

“Morning, Mr. Walker,” you say.

“Morning,” he returns. “I didn’t even see you here, hiding.”

That’s the problem. Standing, sitting, no one notices you behind the double monitors.

“Big day, huh?” He asks.

You stare at him, confused for a moment.

“Yeah, Hansen was saying your sister starts today?”

“Right, uh, yeah,” you affirm. “Thanks, again. I really appreciated the referral.”

“You’re a hard worker,” he says.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Hansen is a bit of a hard ass. I should’ve warned you.” He adds.

You nearly blurt out your first thought; look who’s talking.

“I’m sure she’ll do fine, she is your sister,” he remarks as his fingers curl around the corner of the desk. “Really kind of you to take her in.”

You don’t think you’ve ever spoken so much to Walker. Not since you asked him to put in a good word for Eva. Even then, he kept to his short replies and grunts.

“She’s family,” you say.

“Sure, but... I don’t know. Thought you would already have one of those,” he replies. You tweak a brow. “Kids, husband? I always sort of assumed...”

“A woman my age, yeah.”

“I wouldn’t... no, not because of that, I just... you’re very responsible.”

“Thank you, sir,” you shift on your soles. “I was just getting started on that Lafayette order.”

“Mmmm,” he hums and tilts his head. He drags his hand down his tie. He’s a big man. Most people are compared to you but he’s gargantuan. “Always working hard.”

“Yes, sir,” you look at your screen and click on the spreadsheet, changing the cell colour of the last completed order.

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need from me,” he slaps the corner of your desk then struts off.

You stay focused on your screens. That was strange but you’re not stupid. He’s reminding you of his favour. He wants you to remember that you owe him. You’re sure you’ll be picking up overtime to pay him back.

Work rolls on. Dull, repetitive, but it pays the bills. You eat your oats at your desk as you make your way through the daily rota. You can’t help but notice Mr. Walker’s frequent trips to the break room. It tempts you to grab a coffee yourself as your eyes burn but you resist. You're trying to cut back on caffeine.

When the day ends, your protein bar sits beside the base of your monitor. You’re hungry but you can wait for supper. You sign off and lock your desk. You check your phone. No messages from Eva. Is that good or bad?

As you come into the overcast afternoon, the day weighs in your shoulders and hips. All day you can’t wait to be done but by the time you’re free, you’re exhausted. You dig out your keys and traipse along the row of bumpers to your car.

You hit the button to unlock the Honda and the roar of a motorcycle tears through the air. To your surprise, it only gets louder. You have the door open as its shadow rolls up behind your car. You throw your bags into the passenger seat and ignore it. That is until, the engine quiets and the steel beast doesn’t move from behind your vehicle.

Don’t tell me Eva hopped on someone’s bike. She would. A final act of rebellion before she surrenders to corporate purgatory. You look over, further disappointed by what really awaits you.

The man in leather undoes his helmet, vintage without a visor or anything. He tucks it under his arm and slides off his sunglasses. You recognise him. That’s not good.

His jacket is zipped to his chin but you’re certain that gold medallion hangs against his chest. It’s the same man as the night before. The one that was a little too late. How did he find you?

You shake your head and dip into the driver’s seat. Before you can close the door, his gloved hand is on it. He keeps it open as he steps up. You sigh.

“Sir, would you kindly move your bike?” You drone as you ram your keys into the ignition.

“Hey, doll, just wanna talk,” he says.

“I have somewhere to be,” you reach for the door and he steps closer, inserting himself so you couln’t close if you try.

You keep your eyes aimed at the windshield. Your other hand reaches for your purse. He clucks.

"Now, you don't gotta go calling anyone. Got a few buddies on the force I wouldn't mind catching up with but I'm being good," he steps back and shows his palms. "Just curious."

"I said I'm on my way somewhere--" you begin and grip the wheel.

"To get your daughter? You're a good mom--"

You stay silent. There's not much you can say that won't make this worse. It's none of your business. Piss off. A few choice epithets.

You search the brick wall ahead of you. Your heart beats faster and faster. No matter how you avoid men, they make themselves a problem.

You grab the shifter and crank it. You hit the gas and jerk backwards. You hit his bike and it crashes with a clatter. He let's go of the door as the door jars him.

"The fuck?" He exclaims.

You have just enough room to turn through the empty spot next to you. It's a deep spin of the wheel but you manage to redirect and roll past his bike.

As you swerve around and set the car straight, you glance over. He rubs his shoulder as he watches you, approaching his overturned bike with stunned steps. To your surprise, there's a big grin across his face.

Shit.

You stomp the pedal and tear out of the lot. You don't look as you turn into traffic and you squeeze the wheel until your knuckles hurt. What the fuck!

[harknessxo]

House Of Balloons

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: When Agatha went into Westview her goal was to find the source of such chaotic magic but the moment she saw you, her plan changed just a little bit.

Warnings; psychological abuse (with magic), google translate Latin, kissing, possessive Agatha, non-con, girl penis, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I finished it and the realized I forgot the mistress kink. I’m so sorry!

When Agatha got tangled up in Wanda’s Hex, her plan was to figure out where the source of such power was and take every bit of it for herself. That was until you came along. See, she soon figured out Wanda was the one responsible for this sickening reality she created and made her mission to befriend her so it would be easier to get her power. She followed Wanda’s…script per-say and made sure to dress herself for each decade.

Then came the 60s episode. Agatha took Wanda to Dottie’s committee meeting and that’s when she saw you. She stopped in her tracks to admire your beauty but stopped before anyone would notice. She made sure to sit right next to you and strike up a conversation.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She complimented, trying to get your attention. You immediately looked in her direction, a rosy tint straining your cheeks.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered nervously. She chuckled at your nervousness. How adorable you were, she thought.

“I’m Agnes,” she introduced herself.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you,” you replied politely. She smiled as you told her your name. A beautiful name for such a beautiful doll.

“It’s a pleasure, doll,” she rested a hand on your knee, watching for your reaction to her flirting, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. New in town?”

“I…” you stopped yourself trying to remember. Why couldn’t you remember? She noticed your pause, but before she could say anything Dottie called for the meeting to start.

“Alright everyone lets start today’s meeting.” Dottie announced.

“We’ll continue our conversation later, darling.” Agatha placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Okay,” you smiled awkwardly. Why couldn’t you remember something so simple?

The meeting began, and though it was long and boring, Agatha enjoyed being next to you. Her hand had remained on your thigh but she felt you squirm under her touch so she moved it. That last thing she wanted was to scare you off. She wanted for you to come to her willingly…at least with a little bit of magic.

As the meeting continued on Agatha kept stealing halves at you every now and then, completely forgetting why she was there in the first place and instead brewing a whole new plan that included you coming with her after she sucked Wanda dry of her powers.

Her mind slowly formed and tweaked her plan, but it still had one problem. A small, yet critical obstacle. That would be Wanda Maximoff herself. But…this town was Agatha’s to play with. If anyone would ruin her plans, it would be her.

Eventually, the meeting was done. Agatha didn’t hesitate to keep you from walking away, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and gently holding you in place.

“Would you like to come over for some tea, sweetheart?” she asked but it came out more as a demand.

“I uh- sure!” you replied nervously. She smirked, pleased that you didn’t put up a fight. She guided you out of the room, her hand resting on the small of your back, her touch hot through the fabric of your dress.

“Good choice. I want to get to know you better,” You were quite confused by this woman’s sudden interest in you but for some reason you didn’t question it, you couldn’t.

She chuckled as you seemed so…naive. You were just like putty in her hands. It wouldn’t be long until she’d have you wrapped around her finger and at her feet. Once she got you to her home, she led you to the couch and sat you down, sitting beside you with her thigh against yours.

“Do you have a preferred type of tea?”

“Anything is fine by me, thank you,” she smiled, reaching out to caress your cheek with her hand. She loved how you were just so easily trusting, even when her touch was possessive and forceful. She leaned a little closer to you as she spoke.

“I have some jasmine tea that I love. That will have to do.”

“O-okay…” you watched as she walked into her kitchen, all while you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. You kept trying to remember anything only for a harshful voice forcefully telling you to stop inside your own mind, making you wince.

Once the tea was brewed, she carried the tea kettle and two cups to the coffee table in front of you. She gently poured a cup of tea for both of you before sitting beside you once more, the tea kettle on the floor next to her. She watched you closely as you seemed uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“No! Of course not!” you quickly said, not wanting her to offend her, “I just…I can’t seem to remember anything. I- I don’t know how to explain it.” This made her remember you were under Wanda’s spell along with the rest of the town. She frowned thinking of how much pain you were under.

“You can’t remember anything? At all?”

“No. It’s like every time I try…a voice yells at me to stop…” silence fell into the room which made you snap out of the sudden trance, “I’m sorry- that was stupid to say- how long have you lived here?” You said trying to change the subject. She mentally chuckled at your little change in subject but didn’t push it. The least she could do was answer some of your questions…even if they were boring.

“Hm… about a month or two,” she hummed, reaching out to grab her cup of tea, her fingers slightly grazing against your thigh in the process. That wasn’t intentional…in your eyes. You picked up the other tea cup and took a sip, oblivious to the enchantment Agatha had put in it. It was meant to…plant seeds for you to fall for her bit by bit.

She watched you closely as you drank the tea, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. The enchantment slowly began to take effect, the magic flowing through your body. She could see it in your eyes, how your pupils slightly dilated and your body seemed to be a bit more relaxed than before.

“This tea is really good! What did you put in it?” You gushed. She feigned innocence, shrugging her shoulders slightly as she took a sip of her own tea.

“Just some herbs I picked from my garden,” she lied, watching you closely. The effects were definitely taking effect on you, and it only took a few more moments before you would be completely in her grasp.

As you continued on talking to Agnes for the rest of the afternoon, you began to feel more attracted towards her. As if something was pulling you towards her and you couldn’t help it. You had finished your tea and now, you were practically glued to Agatha’s side. She sat on the couch, her legs stretched out across the cushions and her arms draped over the back of the couch. You were sitting right beside her, your body almost pressed up against hers. She loved how the enchantment was affecting you, making you more needy for her touch.

As adorable as she thought you were like this, she wanted to take her time with you so she walked you home to make sure you were safe even as you tried to protest, wanted to stay with her a little longer.

When she arrived at your house, she smirked at your cute pout. She chuckled and gently grabbed your chin between her fingers, forcing you to look at her.

“Now, now, doll. I have things to do and I need you to behave for me, alright?”

“Okay…will you come over tomorrow?” She smiled, gently stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“Of course I will, darling. I’ll come by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow!”

“Good night, sweetheart,” she said with a smirk before giving you a little push towards your door, waiting for you to enter your house before she left. As you went into your home, you felt that voice in your head once again telling you what to do and how to do it. It made you wince but you did as it said, too afraid of the consequence if you didn’t. It told you to go to bed and so you did only for nightmares that didn’t belong to you to occur as if they were reality.

For the next three episodes you only fell harder for Agnes. She made the voice in your head quiet down though ever since the first day you met her, your recurring headaches got worse. She could tell you were in so much pain but was skeptical in lifting Wanda’s spell. If she lifted Wanda’s spell, she would also lift her own. She didn’t know how you would react.

You were now sitting in your living room talking with Agnes while your tv was on for background noise. You were practically sitting on her lap with how close you were to her. She had one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to her. She loved the way you practically clung to her. She was also having trouble keeping her hands to herself. Her hand slowly slipped underneath your shirt and gently caressed the skin of your hip, a small smirk on her lips as she watched your reaction.

“So, did you like the cookies I baked you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! They were so good. You need to teach me how to make them!” you gushed like you always did with everything she made. She chuckled at your enthusiasm, her hand slowly sliding up your hip and moving to your stomach, her fingers gently tracing small patterns against your skin. Gosh you were so cute.

“Of course I will, darling. We can bake them together some time,” she hummed, gently tugging you even closer. When you looked up at her you realized how closer the two of you were now. You looked down her lips yet didn’t do anything, too scared to make a move.

She noticed your gaze flicker down to her lips and she couldn’t help but chuckle, her hand on your hip squeezing slightly. She was patient, but she knew that you needed some encouragement. She lifted her other hand and gently tilted your chin up to look her in the eye.

“Something on your mind, darling?” Your lips parted but no words came out. She raised an eyebrow, amused at your lack of response. She leaned in a little closer, her breath warm against your lips as she spoke.

“Use your words, sweetheart. You know I like it when you speak,” she purred, her hand on your stomach slowly moving up your torso, her fingertips grazing the underside of your bra. Her praise only urged you to pull her in for a kiss. Her lips were so soft but before you could enjoy it, a bolt of pain surged through your head, making you pull away and hiss in pain. She was taken by surprise by your sudden pull away, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at you.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” She asked, her hand that was on your stomach quickly moving up to gently rub your head, trying to soothe the pain that you were experiencing.

“Uh nothing,” you pulled away from her and started to stand up, “I’m going to get some water, would you like something to drink?” She furrowed her eyebrows, noticing your hesitance to answer her question. She knew she was half responsible for your pain.

“No, I’m fine, doll. Go ahead and get some water.”

“O-okay,” you walked into your kitchen, the voice in your head turned into two and they only grew louder. You picked up a glass and poured yourself some water. As you were about to take a sip of it, the voices suddenly screamed in your head and you dropped the glass cup, making it break.

A gasp escaped Agatha’s lips as she heard the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. She quickly got up and rushed over to you, her eyes widening as she saw you on the ground with shattered glass around you.

“Y/n!” She said worriedly, immediately crouching down to your level and gently cupping your face in her hands, “Are you okay?”

“Agnes, it hurts! Please make it stop,” your hands gripped onto her purple cardigan. She could feel her heart ache as she watched you in pain, tears forming in your eyes. She gently pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Shh, I know it hurts, doll. Just try to relax for me,” Her fingers swirled around your temple as she began to chant what seemed like gibberish to you and soon the pain stopped. All your memories came back to you. The ropes of red magic surrounding your house and them engulfing you. You scrambled away from Agnes’ embrace, overwhelmed with everything that was happening all at once.

She let you scramble away, watching as you began to remember everything. She could tell that you were overwhelmed and panicking, so she stayed silent for a few moments, letting you process everything.

“Wanda…she did this,” you panted out and looked up, “Who are you?” She let out a soft sigh, knowing that this moment was going to happen eventually. She looked at you with a neutral expression on her face, noticing the fear in your eyes as you stared at her.

“You can call me Agatha. I’m…a witch,”

“No,” you scrambled further away from her until your back hit your counter, “Not another witch.” She slowly stood up and took a step closer to you, her hands held up in a calming gesture.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” she said softly, keeping her distance from you for now.

“Don’t call me that and stay away from me!” You grabbed a knife and pointed it at her, “I have to get out of here,” you mumbled more to yourself than her. She stopped in her tracks, a small frown on her face as she watched you grab the knife. She knew that she was still stronger than you and could easily overpower you if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to scare you further so she remained where she was.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said firmly, her eyes flickering between the knife and your face, “Now, put the knife down, sweetheart. You’re perfectly safe with me.”

“Yeah right. You’re just like Wanda.” Her eyes narrowed at your words, a hint of irritation in her expression. She took another step closer to you, taking the knife from your grasp and closing the distance between you.

“I’m nothing like Wanda,” she said through gritted teeth, “She’s the one who trapped you in this shit town under a fake reality. I was only trying to break through her stupid hex. Truly a waste of power. But you,” she grasped your jaw, “You made me change my mind. You’re special and you’re not leaving me.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shoved her off and made a run for the door only for a purple magic rope making you trip. A smirk made its way to her face as you fell to the floor. The next thing you knew, you were bound to the ground, your wrists pinned to the floor by the magic ropes as well. You started to struggle against the restraints, trying to get away but it was all in vain. She slowly knelt down in front of you, grabbing your chin to force you to look at her once again.

“There’s no use fighting against them, doll. They’re strong and won’t break no matter how much you struggle.”

“I knew it. You’re truly just like her.” You spit on her face. She closed her eyes and let out a low growl as your spit landed on her face. She used her free hand to wipe it off before wrapping her hand around your throat.

“Careful, sweetheart,” she said in a low, dangerous tone, “I may not like it when you talk back to me, but I can’t deny that it’s turning me on right now.”

“Let me go, please?” She chuckled softly, her grip on your throat not loosening in the slightest.

“Oh, pet. You’re adorable when you beg. But I’m afraid I can’t let you go. Not now that I have you right where I want you,” she waved her hand and you were now on your bed, naked and tied to the headboard, making your eyes widened in terror. She slowly crawled on top of you, a satisfied smirk on her face as she took in the sight of you tied up and helpless underneath her. She straddled your hips, her hands roaming over your body, admiring every inch of you.

“Don’t touch me!” you writhed under her. She let out a taunting sound as she continued to run her hands over your body, ignoring your protests. Her touch was possessive and rough, as if she was claiming you as hers.

“You’re mine now, doll. I can touch you however I want.” Tears started to well in your eyes.

“Please just-“ you swallowed the lump in your throat, “don’t hurt me…” She softened slightly at the sight of your tears, her hand gently cupping your face as she leaned down and licked the tears that started to spill from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, pet,” she cooed, “And I won’t hurt you…too bad.” You closed your eyes tightly as she started taking off her cardigan along with everything else and when she was done, she began to kiss down your jaw until she reached your ear.

“You will love me,” she whispered before she began chanting Latin, “Fac horologium contra. Serva quod perierat. Fac eam ama me quocunque pretio.“

“What- what are you doing?” She ignored your question and continued to chant a love spell.

“Reduc quod olim fuit meum. Omne pulchrum esse videtur.” You felt lightheaded like you were floating. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Agatha again, her forehead pressed against yours as she pounded into you. She had a look of intense focus on her face as she looked into your eyes, her hips moving at a steady pace. She could feel the effects of the spell working on you, the love and desire slowly filling your mind.

“Ag- Agatha?”

“Shh, it’s okay, pet. You completely mine now,” she answered breathlessly as she continued to thrust into you. Her eyes locked onto yours, a smirk on her face as she noticed the change in your expression from confusion to acceptance.

As you gained consciousness of your whole body, you began to feel the pleasure Agatha was giving you. You whimpered every time her cock rubbed against your g-spot. She smirked even more as she heard your whimpers, her pace increasing slightly as she leaned down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“There we go, doll. Just relax and let me take care of you,” she whispered against your skin.

“I…I am yours,” you gasped out.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” she purred, her hand gripping your hip tightly as she continued to pound into you.

“You’re all mine, and no one else’s. Your body, your mind, your soul. All mine to use as I please.”

“I think I’m gonna-“

“Come for me, pet,” she growled, her grip on your hip tightening even more as she continued to hit that spot inside you over and over again. She came along with you, spilling her load deep inside, finalizing her possession over you. She leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, possessive kiss as she rode out her orgasm, her tongue slipping into your mouth and dominating you completely.

“Humph…” Once she broke the kiss, she pulled out of you and laid down next to you, pulling you close against her body. She began to run her fingers through your hair, a satisfied smile on her face.

“You belong to me now, pet. All that’s left to do is take Wanda’s power. That way you and I can live happily ever after,” she said, watching as the reflection of her powers settled in your eyes.

“All yours~”

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