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buckyalpine · 9 months

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Cheating!Steve x reader, Bucky x reader

Oh look, more cheating Steve with sweetheart Bucky to save us

A/N: Last year someone asked me for some mad angsty fic and I posted and deleted it so quick because it was god awful. Just awful. However, I had kept a draft of it cause even though I hated it and everything about it, I didn't want it gone forever. Upon rereading it recently...I kinda like it. So I decided to change some stuff (like most of the entire plot), switch around characters (I'm a Bucky girl) and repost. If you want to see the OG fic, I can post it again or just edit this to add it under the new version

Steve couldn't stand seeing you like this. In the hospital room, the needles prodding you, it all reminds him of hydra and the things he had seen on numerous missions. When you almost die, he's thrown back into the spiral where he has no hope for a future. And nothing changes after you get better. You had almost died once. Missions were getting riskier and you weren't always in the clear. In his mind, everything good in his life leaves him or gets ripped away eventually. Peggy was a prime example of that. It's just a matter of time.

Even in your injured state, your attention was all on Steve. You knew how much he hated seeing you hurt. It sent him into a dark place few people had witnessed. As soon as your eyes fluttered open, your tired eyes met his red rimmed, puffy ones. For days, every time you try to bring him back to you, he has his walls built up again.

He won't let himself love you more.

He drinks.

He drinks enough to get drunk. It takes bottle after bottles but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything any more. So much so, he decides to seek the warmth of someone else.

Because you almost left him.

You could die so easily.

You almost did.

Nothing matters any more. His moans of pleasure are empty but he's wrapped around her none the less. He doesn't stop until his body can't move, too exhausted to even think about guilt.

You have it all planned out. You were finally released from the hospital and the first thing you wanted to do was spend time with Steve. The team had left the compound so you could set up a movie night for you and the captain, you don't want to let him slip from your grasp, not after all you'd been through together. You didn't go through hell and back to lose him like this. You fought for your life to pull through.

There are snacks laid out on the table, a movie pulled up, some hot chocolate made just for you and him. You shuffle nervously, your heart beating erratically. You didn't spend 4 years with him just for this to end because you nearly died. No. He was worth the fight. His cold demeanor was not towards you but towards the fear of losing you. And that fear was from love. Love you both shared deeply for each other.

You knew he got back from the bar late; if he was too drunk then you'd help him to his room and talk to him in the morning. It was a new habit of his but you understood.

Except he never came. He always made it home. Not tonight.

Steve stumbled in the next morning, rubbing his eyes, seeing a small sleeping form on the sofa, snacks and some drinks laid out in the living room. He swallowed thickly when he sees you get up from the couch wearing one of his hold hoodies, making your way towards him.

"Steve?"

You have a soft smile on your face, but it drops when you get a closer look at him. Tears prickle at your eyes when you see the way his neck is littered in bruises, his skin still flushed. He can't look you in the eyes, not after what he'd just done.

"I-

You freeze before him, you don't want to ask. You don't want to know. The broken expression his face is enough for you. You wordlessly leave the living room, locking yourself in, giving FRIDAY instructions to make sure no one can enter.

"Did you talk to y/n" Bucky asks excitedly when he sees Steve sitting in the living room. He knows how excited you were about the movie night, spending days planning every last detail. His excitement drops when he sees the food untouched and you're nowhere to be seen. "Where is she?"

Steve remains silent, staring at his hands. The rest of the team enter the living room, hoping to find you both curled on the couch, but no. Nat's eyes narrow when she sees the hickeys on Steve's neck but something tells her they're not from you, you've never marked him like that before, you've always been so gentle with him.

"How could you?" She hissed, while the rest of the team look at her in confusion. It doesn't take long for them to piece things together. And it's a mess.

You come down to the living room, both Sam and Tony holding Bucky down on the couch while he glares at Steve, his hands still in fists. They all turn towards you with broken eyes, this is not what they ever wanted for you. The second he sees you, he breaks down. You're numb to his cries, his pleas.

He finds you leaving the compound at 1:00 AM from where he's still seated on the couch, something you'd never done before.

"Baby? Where are you going"

You ignore him, making your way to the garage. You were never able to sleep since and staying in bed only left you alone with your thoughts.

"I-I need some space. Don't worry about where I'm going"

"Y/n, please, just let me explain"

"No"

"I made a mistake, I-

"I don't care. I just want need some air"

"Promise me you'll come back?"

You shake your head, you can't even look at Steve. You scoff, shoving past him, not caring when he hisses in pain. His cheek is bruised, spots of dark purple and blue bloom around his eye and you'd seen Nat icing Bucky's hand earlier.

"Y/n, please angel, I-I just want to talk, just promise me you'll come back?"

"I promise" You reluctantly mumble, hopping on your motor bike and speeding off before Steve can call after you again.

You loved him so much.

You fought so hard to pull through for him, you heard every word he'd said to you when you were unconscious.

Tears clouded your vision.

It all happens too fast for you to comprehend.

The car doesn't see you.

The bend is sharp.

You bike is sent over the edge.

Darkness.

It's been a week.

You still haven't woken up.

It's all his fault. It doesn't matter that the driver was intoxicated. It didn't matter that it was dark out. You wouldn't have left the compound if he hadn't done what he did and it eats him alive.

He's not met with any sympathy.

No one bats an eye at his tears or sobs, too concerned about your well being to go and comfort him. Like clock work, every member of the team visits on rotation since they can't all be there at once. however Bucky is exempt from all hospital rules with one brooding, grumpy stare.

Bucky is by your side every single day. He doesn't say anything when Steve grips your hand, praying for you to wake up, silently praying himself while your heart monitor continues to beep. Steve refuses to move from your side but he's not given much of a choice when Fury summons him personally for someone mission related.

He's only gone for a few hours but that's when you finally stir. Bucky is on his feet instantly, paging for the doctor while stroking your hair.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky whispers when your eyes finally focus, the knuckles of his metal hand gently caressing your cheek. The cool sensation helps you feel more alert. You smile seeing his baby blue eyes, feeling safe as he talks to you softly.

Everything hits Steve all at once. He didn't just betray you. He betrayed the team. His bestfriend. Himself. All the people who had faith in him to make the right choice, to do the right thing, to protect them. And he threw it away. Everyone waited a month for you to fully recover before throwing a welcome back party so you'd actually be able to enjoy it. Steve looked back longingly at the happy group gathered together in the living room, more emotions hitting him again.

He was happy you were alive. His sweet, sweet girl pulled through. H

He was envious of the love everyone was sharing, one he wasn't privy to anymore. He was invited, he was still apart of the team after all but he knew it wasn't his place.

He was jealous.

Jealous of the way you melted into Bucky's side. Longing to feel that warmth that he used to feel himself. Bucky had his arm around your waist, keeping you tucked right by him, taking care of you long after you were discharged. He wasn't going to stop any time soon.

There was something between you two, everyone could sense it. The soft gazes at each other and innocent kisses. Bucky wouldn't let a day go by without pressing his lips to your cheek, your nose, your forehead, the top of your head. He needed you to know you were loved and cared for. He stuck to his guns, claiming his actions were purely platonic but the pink blush on his cheeks proved that he was a bald faced liar.

Steve knows theres no one to blame but himself. He sighs and swallows the lump in his throat as you stand on your tiptoes to kiss the brunette, sealing you both together forever. He's always thought it would be the two of you standing together at the alter but how things had changed. The cheers of the crowd are a dull buzz to him. He watches Bucky swoop in for another kiss, this time dipping you and capturing your lips sweetly.

"I love you Mrs. Barnes"

"I love you more, Mr. Barnes"

Your happy, love struck giggles cause the first tear to fall.

He does his best to smile when you both walk by, flashes of what your wedding would have looked like. The white dress. The veil. The flowers.

if only he never-

But it was too late.

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flowerandblood · 7 months

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Equation without solution

[ Michael • Gavey x painter student! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, trauma, mention of bullying, mention of physical and mental violence ]

[ description: Michael sees no point in worrying about anything, especially relationships, when all he needs is math. His calm, logical world falls apart when a female painting student asks him for help in calculating the best possible composition to create a portrait. Sexual tension, angst, a litte brat taming and domination kink, great childhood traumas. ]

The fragment with Michael in the trailer inspired me to write this. The whole discussion around this oneshot, whether it should be made at all, made me very tired. I don't think we'll get his backstory in the movie, but even if we did, I just felt like writing it - so here it is. Have fun reading.

Part 2 − Formula for perfection

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Ever since he could remember, his father had explained to him that an intelligent man is not guided by emotions, but by logic. That's why he married his mother, that's why he went into the army. A long belt hung in plain sight in one of the cupboards of their house, so that he could use it to remind him this when necessary.

His father never hit him with his hand. He did not slap him, considering it humiliating for a man to do this to another man. Punishments were in the nature of a ritual, which he said he did not find pleasant either. He reiterated that only strong people survive in this world, that if a classmate beat him up at school he should not cry, but punch him back even harder.

He was afraid to tell his father when, once again after being hit by Creg, one of the school donkeys, his glasses broke in half. In panic situations he would run to his mother, who would look at him with terrified eyes and only repeat "quickly, your father must not find out".

He and his mother shared secrets, which she told him they could not tell his father so as not to upset him. Such things were the sweets she had hidden in one of the containers that pretended to be flour, or the savings she meticulously counted when he was away.

She would say that one should always be prepared, but he didn't understand for what.

One day he found a container of sweets standing by his bedside table and his mother had disappeared, leaving him and his father with only a short note, which his father tore up and said they would never mention her again.

He threw away pictures of her, all her clothes, everything, even his toys or his books, which she was the one who bought and read to him. He only managed to hide one, which was a maths exercise book that had slippery, oiled pages from which he could erase the results of equations at will and fill them in again with a dry erase marker.

This book became his favourite; he would only take it out at night when he was sure his father was already asleep and fill in all the blanks one by one, knowing them by heart.

He created his own ritual.

This calmed him down.

Later, however, these tasks proved too simple and tedious, he needed a challenge and asked his teacher, Mrs Rosaline, to recommend something to learn. She did so willingly, surprised by his diligence, and when he came in the next day saying he had solved all the tasks, she started sending him to maths competitions.

Maths was wonderfully logical and cool, you couldn't interpret it in different ways like poetry, you didn't have to get into the mind of the author of an equation to understand the result. Everything was preconceived and safe, a wrong result could always be explained, you could get to the root of it.

There was no reason to be sad, nervous or happy.

When, in high school, his tutor announced to his father that he was a genius and that he should start a career in science his father was furious. He said that mathematician was not a profession, that all his life he would remain the victim of fate that he had apparently always been destined to be.

He wasn't happy when he got into the best university in the country without any exams, he wasn't happy that he was one of the few to get his own dorm room and a big scholarship.

His father told him that he was already a man and not a boy, that he would not beat him with a belt to explain to him that he was not a genius but an idiot.

What he had learnt from his father was not to worry about such words. He would grin at him when he tried to explain to him what a mistake he was making with amusement and satisfaction as he watched the man who told him that emotions were a sign of weakness become enraged.

His father was weak.

He was emotional.

Even the army and the fact that he beat him didn't change that.

He thought that this was probably what his father, that is his grandfather, had tried to instil in him, but he had failed miserably.

He truly believed, however, that his father was right.

He didn't need emotions.

Numbers were enough for him.

He could calculate the probability of whether or not he would be able to communicate with someone by analysing quickly in his head with what frequency that person spoke about things that did not interest him.

He didn't consider whether he liked them and didn't even have any idea how he would have known that. He recognised that deciding on the basis of chemical reactions in his brain about his acquaintances was absurd.

Just because he didn't feel anything didn't mean he wasn't laughing or enjoying himself. On the contrary, he smirked a lot, usually while listening to other people's discussions or when he managed to get someone off balance.

Wealthy alpha males who owed the place he had earned only to their rich parents reigned around the university like kings, pretending to be intelligent, studying law, medicine or banking without having a clue what they were doing were his most common victims.

"I could never defend a rapist or a murderer. I don't know, it makes me flinch at the mere idea." Said Kyle once when they were sitting in the library, them pretending to study, actually sitting over open books they weren't concentrating on and talking, distracting him.

When he needed real focus he would study in his room, but when he felt like a bit of entertainment he would go out to listen to them.

It was better than a comedy in TV.

"After all, every man deserves a defence lawyer, he's innocent until the court hands down a final verdict." Matt, a boy who read a lot and could memorise things, replied, throwing quotes from his sleeve without much understanding of them. Kyle snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"So what? Sometimes you subconsciously know this person did it by looking at them or the evidence is incriminating enough." He replied with a certainty that surprised him.

He corrected his glasses on his nose with his pointing finger, wondering how this moron was going to defend anyone in court if he himself was constantly undermining his client's innocence in his head while he himself wanted to be the judge against him.

"If it was as you say, there wouldn't be so many innocently convicted people in prison. Evidence seems incriminating until one new clue, piece of evidence or witness comes along that changes everything. It is the duty of the defence counsel to look for such details to the best of his ability, and not to judge his client unless he himself wants to plead guilty." He heard a second, frustrated voice and lifted his gaze, noticing a girl standing by the bookcase who had heard their conversation while looking for some book.

He recognised her only by sight, and knew that she had studied painting, so her person did not interest him at all. However, what she said frustrated Kyle and disturbed his nepotistic sense of superiority, so he gave this scene his full attention.

"I didn't know kids drawing with crayons knew anything about such serious matters as criminal law." He said piteously, a mocking sweetness in his voice, his gaze feigning warmth, meant to bring her out of her funk.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was looking at him like he was an idiot.

"I don't need to know this to realise that no amount of money will make you a good lawyer. I feel sorry for your future clients, because you will destroy them yourself." She replied, raising her eyebrows in amusement, completely unfazed by his insult.

It surprised him that she looked happy and pleased to see his angry face, not letting him get a word in edgewise, grabbing the book she was looking for and walking off towards her friends sitting at a table in the distance.

On his way out of the library he heard her voice, heard her laugh, light and unforced, glanced at her and their gazes met for a moment before he walked out into the corridor.

He had forgotten about her until an incident when, sitting in the university restaurant, he noticed Kyle walking past her and pretending to stumble, the entire contents of his cranberry juice spilled on her dress, leaving big pink stains.

"Sorry, are you okay?" He asked, feigning seriousness and concern, and she stood up, furious without even speaking to him, walking away.

He watched curiously as Kyle sat down with his friends and high-fived Matt, clearly pleased with himself, putting his arm around some silly giggling girl.

After a while, however, that girl came back, dressed up, wearing only a man's long-sleeved shirt all soiled with paint, covering the small part of her thighs that she apparently used as an apron while painting, socks and trainers on her legs.

He felt something strange seeing her soft thighs, thinking of the fact that he himself wore similar shirts, and took a sip of coffee from his cup, watching as she sat back next to her friends, saying something quickly, going back to eating her lunch, unconcerned.

She laughed.

He shuddered when their eyes met and quickly glanced at Kyle, who was watching her from afar, licking his lips, his leg moving in impatience, the girl he was embracing whispering something in his ear, but he wasn't listening to her.

He was thinking.

Usually when he had to move from one building to another he went through a side exit, so as to have a bit of peace and quiet, but on this day he decided to walk through the main square, walking on its right side, looking through the windows.

He was not at all searching for her with his eyes when he saw the rows of easels and people around the model, dressed in historic Renaissance costume.

He didn't feel the heat stroke at all and stopped involuntarily when he saw her sitting with her back to him, her canvas smaller than the others, she sat closer, focused only on the portrait.

He could see her underpainting, just an outline and a sketch, and the lines she had drawn to help herself.

The golden ratio.

He shuddered at the thought that she was deliberately using mathematical proportional division to achieve a subconscious effect of harmony in the whole composition, which was, after all, just a base for the actual layer with chiaroscuro and colours.

He gasped when one of his year mates slapped him on the back, asking what he was looking at, and when he saw what he was observing behind the window, he laughed.

"These artists. They will die poor, but at least in their mind they will have created something outstanding. Until a critic comes along who says what they've painted is ugly." He muttered with amusement, putting his arm around him as if they were good mates, although they were not.

He looked back and noticed with pounding heart that this girl was turning over her shoulder, looking in his direction.

His friend had said something about the Mona Lisa, about how ugly she was and that he didn't understand how that portrait could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but he was unable to focus on it.

The golden ratio.

The balance of the composition.

Her painting was thoughtful.

He was convinced that painters only recognised their own artistic intuition and thus created ugly paintings, which they then called contemporary art.

He didn't think about her, or at least tried to until his mates told him that Kyle was throwing a party, to which he was obviously not invited.

"Apparently he even invited the girl he doused with juice at the time as an apology. Bruce says he recently brought her flowers during her classes and that he seems to have a crush on her."

"Sometimes it's one step from hate to love."

He didn't like the uncomfortable feeling he experienced in his chest, a sort of sting and tightness in his throat. He went back to the equation he had just solved without listening to them further.

Even if someone didn't know there was supposed to be any kind of party going on, they had certainly heard it that Friday night, the music, laughter and screams from Kyle's room echoing loudly through the dorm.

Even though women weren't allowed in there there were plenty of them, he could hear them running to the toilet, squealing and giggling, driving him furious as he couldn't concentrate on what he was reading. He pulled down his glasses, massaging the space between his eyes with his fingers, closing his eyelids, trying to calm himself.

His emotions wouldn't change anything.

He shuddered when he heard a knock on his room and looked uncertainly towards his door. He feared it was Kyle and his pack who had drunkenly decided they would have fun at his expense.

He swallowed loudly when he heard her voice.

"Can I come in?"

He felt his heart start pounding hard, a multitude of thoughts running through his head. He tried to analyse whether he should do it or not, what she might have wanted from him, but nothing came to mind, there was a complete void in his brain.

God.

"Come in." He heard his own uncertain voice, and after a moment the door opened and there she stood.

She came in smiling and cheerful, happy for some reason, closing the door behind her, looking around his room as if she had come at his invitation, wearing a large long-sleeved sweatshirt with the university logo reaching halfway down her thighs, long light wool socks and trainers on her legs.

He wanted to say something, to ask why he owed this visit and what she wanted from him, but all he did was stare at her legs, at the small patch of her exposed naked body between her sweatshirt and the material of her socks. He felt a strong pulsing in his black sweatpants and swallowed loudly knowing what it meant.

Fuck.

He'd only fucked twice in his life, and they'd been fairly inept acts of physical intimacy between a man and a woman, where they'd pursued their fulfilment on him, not caring much about him, maybe even imagining he was someone else, some more handsome boy who just happened not to want to look at them.

It didn't bother him, because he didn't feel anything for them himself, they didn't even arouse his desire, but they were just very horny, and he decided that he didn't want to remain a virgin for the rest of his life.

It had been more of a relaxing than a pleasurable experience and he didn't understand why men were so overpowered by it, but now, looking at her, he felt his brain and his logic start to give up in favour of what was going on in his trousers.

"You didn't go to the party?" Her light, gentle voice snapped him out of his reverie, causing him to lift his eyes to her face, which, to his surprise, seemed very pretty up close, her eyes large and bright, framed by long lashes, her pink lips curved in a smile.

What made her so happy?

Why did she come to his room and ask such things?

"No. NFI." He replied dispassionately, lowering his gaze to her legs again, unable to contain himself, covering what was happening to him with a book. She blinked, furrowing her brow.

"What?" She asked with amusement and curiosity.

"Not Fucking Invited." He explained and she burst into soft laughter, he wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone react like that to anything he'd said.

"Maybe it's better for you too. I went there for a while, but they act like pigs in a shed. A friend told me I could find you here so I thought I'd take the opportunity." She said calmly, walking over to his desk, leaning over his books. He wondered with a pounding heart how she had the confidence to just walk into a stranger's room and talk to him as if she had known him for years.

He chuckled and shook his head, running his hand over his face in an attempt to hide his nervousness and what his imagination was suggesting.

"Are you going to tell me why you came here, or are you going to continue wasting my time?" He muttered ironically, figuring that by doing so he would somehow discourage her or force her to stop pestering him.

He blinked and lifted his knees higher when she suddenly sat down next to him on his bed, as if just waiting for that question, excitement in her eyes.

"I've heard you're a mathematical genius and that's a very good thing, because I need someone to help me determine the right proportions for my painting."

She said quickly and he felt his heart beat harder, he got warm in his lower abdomen and all he could think about was wanting to back off and run away.

"Isn't the golden ratio and Fibonacci spiral enough for you?" He muttered, knowing that it was these two proportions that were usually enough for artists to create their compositions. She hit her knees with her palms as if he had said exactly what she assumed.

"No! I want to analyse it more, but I don't have the tools to do it. Nor an exact mind. I want you to help me, take a look at my sketch and tell me what you think could be improved. From a mathematical, compositional point of view." She said with an excitement that frightened him in a way, a gush of enthusiasm that he didn't know what to do, how to discourage her with.

"What's in it for me?" He asked, recognising that perhaps a materialistic approach would discourage her, yet she merely twisted in her seat, completely unmoved, apparently recognising that he was entitled to demand payment for his contribution to her work.

"And what would you like?" She asked lightly, and he swallowed loudly, his gaze involuntarily escaping to her thighs, to where he could see her bare skin.

He looked at her face again, hoping she hadn't seen it, but something in her gaze told him she had noticed it, her lips tightened. He felt his heart pounding like crazy, he felt like he was just going through some kind of heart attack.

"Do you want this?" She asked softly, warmly, and he threw her a shocked look, wondering if she was implying what he was thinking, his gaze escaping to her thighs again.

Fuck.

Did he want this?

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly, trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. He felt his pupils dilate as she corrected herself in her seat so that her sweatshirt lifted up slightly, he had a feeling that a millimetre would have been enough for him to see her underwear.

"You can touch me if you want. Just gently. Don't throw yourself at me." She said softly, a blush on her cheeks, her eyes warm and understanding, he even thought she seemed slightly embarrassed, her words sounding innocent despite the obvious subtext.

He wanted to tell her that she thought too highly of herself if she thought he was so desperate, but instead he just looked at her with his lips slightly parted, fighting with himself.

He wasn't sure if his mind controlled the movement of his hand, the way it involuntarily rose and gently touched her thigh, stroking it in a slow, steady up and down motion. He heard her sigh softly and a shudder went through her, saw her lean back and close her eyes.

He couldn't focus on anything other than the thought of how soft and firm her skin was, he wasn't sure he had ever touched anything more pleasurable. He felt both shame and thrill at the thought of how painfully hard he was, tightening his lips and swallowing with difficulty.

He glanced at her face again when, after a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him with a warm, misty gaze, as if she had drifted away with her thoughts somewhere for a moment. She smiled, but there was no mockery in it, her expression had something of girlish innocence.

He didn't quite understand what was just happening between them. His mind wanted to classify this as a prelude to physical intimacy, but he wasn't sure he was right. He felt immense tension and lust, but also a sort of tightening in his pit, intrigue and anxious anticipation.

"If you want, we can kiss. You have such full lips." She said softly with some kind of admiration and sincere desire, from which he felt a tightening in his throat.

He wasn't good at choosing his words when it came to this kind of discussion, and he didn't know completely how to act, so he just stared at her, her thigh under his hand seeming to almost burn him.

Seeing the lack of any reaction from him and the clear shock painted on his face she moved a little closer to him, there was something encouraging in her movement and gaze, some kind of comfort and concern.

She was close, but far enough away to still not invade his space, giving him the sense that she was waiting for his decision.

He stared at her, feeling that his cock hidden in his trousers was about to explode, all swollen and throbbing and after a moment their lips pressed against each other in a sudden, wet dance of tongues and teeth, their hands clenched in each other's hair, the loud, lewd click of their saliva echoing in his ears louder than the muffled music coming from several rooms away.

"Be gentle." She just whispered into his mouth between their drawn-out, sticky kisses, and he hummed at her words, smelling the pleasant scent of her shampoo in his nose.

He grabbed her softly around her waist and seated her on his thighs with his arm around her, throwing his book to the side, rubbing against her from underneath, letting her feel what she had done to him.

He heard her sigh in contentment at feeling how hard he was, both of them beginning to pant loudly as she began to massage him with the motions of her hips, herself clearly taking pleasure from it.

He clamped his hands on her buttocks and drew in the air loudly feeling that she had no shorts on underneath, just her underwear alone, and for some reason it turned him on even more.

Had she planned this all along?

She moaned feeling his hands slip under the material of her panties and squeeze her bare skin with confidence, she ran her fingers through his hair as the tip of her pink, wet tongue ran over his upper lip. He felt a strong shiver run through his entire body and involuntarily began to pant along with her, having never experienced anything like this before.

Her touch, though filled with desire, was not cold and crude, focused only on her pleasure, her hands stroking his hair, his cheeks, his neck with tender, caring movements, her firm, full lips merely teasing him, not wanting to give him any more full kisses, so he only growled, frustrated, pulling her forcibly tighter, sliding his tongue deep into her throat.

He didn't even feel the need to undress her, the very thing they were doing now, the senselessness and yet purposefulness of it made him shiver, her certainty of what she wanted.

Was she really going to do this?

Sleep with a total stranger?

What was the logic in this?

He shuddered at the thought that maybe there was none.

None.

She wouldn't let him think about it, he drew in the air loudly as he felt her nimble fingers untie his sweatpants, slipping them down slightly, exposing what was underneath them, he felt his hard, throbbing manhood being enveloped by the cool air.

He saw her rise slightly, with a movement of her hand apparently pushing the material of her underwear aside, positioning herself above him as he grasped his length in his hand, automatically directing it between her thighs.

"− I'm taking pills − I'm clean −" She whispered softly and he just nodded, not knowing what more he could answer, looking at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

They both moaned embarrassingly loudly and squeezed their eyelids shut as she lowered herself onto him, slowly pushing him deep into her body. He could feel how wet she was, how her fleshy muscles pulsed hungrily against him, how tightly they wrapped around him on all sides miraculously enhancing his sensation.

She lifted herself up with a loud click of her moisture only to fall back down, riding him in a slow unhurried rhythm, and he just leaned down and sank his face into the hollow of her neck, taking in her scent, pleasantly sweet and fresh, panting loudly.

She embraced him, stroking his hair, clearly sensing his uncertainty, terror and desire mixed together. Unwittingly, his hips began to respond to her movements with sure, deep thrusts, to which she moaned loudly, something of helplessness and delight in her sounds.

"− do you want to stop? −" She mumbled softly, kissing his hair with gentle, warm click. He lifted his face finding her lips in a greedy kiss before turning her onto her back, recognising that he couldn't take it any longer, that his cock was about to explode.

"− yeah − I want to stop very, very much −" He growled frustrated at the way she was teasing him, resting one hand on the backrest of the bed in front of him, the other holding her hip tightly, sliding into her with rapid, quick thrusts from which she began to moan and pant loudly, startled, looking up at him with her lips slightly parted.

"− don't you feel it? −" He asked ironically, thrusting his cock so deep into her that he felt like he would pierce her stomach, her body arched backwards as if trying to escape from him, he felt his thighs all sticky from her juices, their bodies smacked against each other quickly with a loud, wet slap.

"− please −" She mewled and he felt a shudder as well as heat in his lower abdomen, something in the way she said it, in the tone of her voice, in her gaze made him lick his lips feeling that just a moment more, a few more thrusts and he was about to come.

"− please, what? − can't you put a fucking sentence together anymore? − you like it when someone fucks you so rough that you don't have words, huh? −" He hissed and groaned low as he felt her walls clench tightly around him at his words, her thighs spread wide in front of him, allowing him to slide into her as deeply as he wanted in a gesture of total submission.

"− I'm sorry −" She mumbled, looking at him helplessly like a rebuked child looking at a parent, and he thought he could devour her whole right now, fuck her all night if she wanted to, if she would react the way she did now.

"− good you're sorry − fucking brat −" He growled, panting loudly along with her and suddenly, without even knowing why, he kissed her greedily, impaling his cock into her with quick, brutal thrusts.

He felt her come, her walls began to clench on him greedily, not wanting to let him go, her whole body was trembling, she tried to push him away, sobbing and moaning with pleasure into his mouth.

He fucked her through her orgasm until he finally gave in and cum inside her, panting loudly, not recognising himself, his sounds or his reactions.

"− oh God − fuck − fuck − fuck −" He mumbled clenching his eyes, coming down from his peak, still moving inside her, hearing her loud breathing underneath him.

What exactly was that?

He collapsed on top of her, completely powerless, smelling the scent of her hair, her hands embracing his waist. They laid like that in the light of his bedside lamp, breathing heavily, listening to the muffled music, the screams and laughter from the party taking place a few rooms away.

He swallowed loudly feeling that he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began, they were both all sticky from her moisture, her insides hot, pleasantly enveloping him on all sides, giving him some strange sense of security.

He thought it was for some of the hormones that are released after orgasm designed to bring partners closer together and bond.

He shuddered when he suddenly heard her soft, quiet voice.

"So what do you say? Will you help me?" She asked shyly, quietly, and he sighed heavily, silent for a long moment.

No.

"Yes."

_____

Part 2 − Formula for perfection

@at-a-rax-ia @daemonskelitsos @alphard-hydraes-blog @travelingmypassion

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monzabee · 8 months

Text

a not so meet cute – cl16

paper rings, prologue(?)

masterlist || series masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles meets his neighbour, who quickly captures his attention.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none other than charles being charles, also might have some cursing, google translate french

Request: “Hii if you’re taking requests could you please write a fic for Charles where he’s your best friend and he asks you to fake date him because he think he likes another girl so he wants to make her notice him/make her jealous kind of thing and you agree even though you love him and during the fake dating he realises that he loves you too and yeah angst fluff and all but a happy ending .If you decide to write this tysm and incase you don’t feel like writing this that’s cool too thanks either way ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! although i am still working on the first chapter of this new series, i wanted to write a little something for you guys to introduce you to the world i had in mind! i know it was not on the wip schedule, but the inspiration struck so i decided to go with it. ever since i saw the wedding pictures of margaret qualley and jack antonoff, the only thing i've been thinking of was the song, and i though it was the perfect song for the characters i had in mind. so, welcome to the new series, inspired by the request above, so thank you for the anon who put the idea in my mind to create this whole series, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

August, 2017

He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble"

Charles loves his country, he really does. He’s always been patriotic of some sorts, he supposes. But the one thing he absolutely loathes about Monaco? The heat, no questions asked. The worst part isn’t even the heat itself, per se, it is the fact that his apartment has no elevator and he has to walk up five stories just to make it to his apartment – in the heat. So yeah, even though he is as patriotic of a Monégasque as they come, he definitely wishes he was somewhere else at the moment. When he does make to his floor, however, he’s met with a rather peculiar view, where his new neighbour is yelling at someone on the phone.

“No, I said I wanted the granite counters,” the person specify, fingers clutching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No!” The man straight up yells, “Ceux en granit, connard, pas ceux en graphite. I don’t think they even come in graphite!”

Deciding to remain silent as he makes his way towards his own apartment, Charles ignores the man standing in front of the apartment opposite of his. Though, he realises that the apartment’s door is open and there is construction going on inside, which explains the drilling sounds he’s been hearing early in the morning and the smell of fresh paint that never seems to leave the shared floor.

Side-eyeing the whole ordeal, he manages to make it to his apartment without attracting the attention of the man – or so he thinks. Just as he’s about to unlock his front door, he feels a pat on his shoulder. As he turns towards the man, there is a curious look on his face, “Hi?”

“Hello,” the man greets, “do you know how i can contact the superintendent?”

For reasons unknown (extreme hangover), Charles’ brain decides to blank out, “Quoi?”

“Le commissaire,” the man clarifies, “savez-vous comment je peux les contacter?” And Charles realises he would have been impressed with the man’s accent if he wasn’t so hangover from the night before. The superintendent, do you know how I can contact them?

“Ah,” Charles nods in understanding, “sure, let me give you his number.”

After the man saves the number he gives to his phone, he extends his hand in a friendly greeting. “I owe you one, I’m Declan, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Charles,” he responds with, what he hopes to be, a friendly smile. Motioning the apartment behind them, he asks, “Are you my new neighbour?”

“Oh, no, no,” Declan laughs, and it’s a warm, almost infectious laugh. It reminds Charles of– well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s voice draws him back to the conversation, “My sister is, I’m renovating it for her.”

Charles nods in understanding, “Ah, I see. I’ve never seen her around, I don’t think.”

“Well that’d be because she’s as annoying as little sisters come,” Declan laughs again, and this time it manages to get a smile out of Charles. “You know what? We’re actually having a small party at my place tonight, why don’t you come?”

“You’ve just met me,” Charles points out, voicing his confusion, “you really want to invite me to your house?”

“Pish posh,” Declan waves him off, already starting to walk back to his sister’s apartment “I’ll send you the details, bring alcohol!”

Charles tries to come up with excuses to give Declan when he’s a no show at the party, but all the excused he come up with sounding either shitty, entitled or just a mess in general. So he convinces himself to get ready after a much needed shower, and remembers to pick up a bottle of tequila on his way to the address Declan texted him earlier that day. Considering the amount of cars parked in front of the apartment complex, Charles thinks whether it’s going to be a ‘small’ party as Declan put earlier, but he manages to find a place to park his car, nonetheless. Surprisingly, it’s not hard to find which apartment belongs to his new ‘friend’, as the people he seems to keep literally bumping into give him directions which lead him to the top floor – he thinks, like brother like sister, huh?

“Ah, bienvenu, Charles!” Declan greets him as he enters the apartment, filled with more people than he honestly expected; but hey, they are in Monte Carlo after all.

Because he was raised by his mother, Charles replies, “Merci de me recevoir,” but because he is Charles, he finds himself reverting easily to French. Of course, he soon realises that his new friend has no trouble understanding him.

“Of course, ma maison est ta maison.” With a wide smile that reaches his eyes, he takes the bottle Charles offer him and pats his shoulder in a friendly manner, “Good lad, let me put this in the kitchen and we’ll find my sister together. I suppose she’s here somewhere.”

Giving him a firm nod, Charles is suddenly left alone to gaze around the living area. He quickly realises that he’s not the only one who is particularly patriotic as he comes face to face with the Union Jack on the wall, proudly displayed on the wall, seems to tell a story of cultural connections and a home away from home. He’s also, somehow, met with a very eccentric group of people, who seem to be insistent on having him join their various conversation – which he does his best to partake in.

As he chats with a group of fellow partygoers, he notices Declan making his way through the crowd toward him. “Charles,” he says with an apologetic smile, “sorry for that, let’s go.”

As they move through the apartment, Charles catches glimpses of the décor, which can only be described as eclectic, but what he realises that Declan made sure to fill up his walls with all kinds of memories; from photographs of what Charles thinks is his family to his diplomas, to even famous artwork – he’s not sure whether the Warhol he just passed by is real or not, but he supposes it’s probably the first option. They arrive at a corner of the rooftop terrace where a cozy seating area is arranged. A few guests are engaged in animated discussions, while others lounge comfortably, enjoying the ambiance. However, it doesn’t take either him or Declan to realise that his sister is, in fact, not with the group.

Though, it doesn’t take the latter to spot his sister, mumbling with a wince under his breath, and when Charles follows Declan's gaze to find her engaged in a rather animated discussion with a man who looks both frustrated and slightly bewildered by her. “Poor guy.”

“Seems like she's keeping him entertained.” Charles offer, careful with his words, and also quite confused at the man’s reactions to whatever Declan’s sister seems to be saying.

“Eh, sisters.” Declan shrugs, and motions Charles to follow him.

As they approach their corner of the terrace, her voice becomes clearer, and Charles can overhear snippets of the conversation. “I just don’t understand why we can’t print more money,” she says in an airy voice.

The man she's speaking to rubs his temples, clearly grappling with how to respond. “Well, it's not that simple. Printing more money can lead to inflation and devalue the currency.” He takes a moment to think, then, “Think of it like shoes–”

“Okay,” Declan laughs nervously as he places himself between the two, turning to the other man with a kind smile, “I think we’re done here, mate, she’s playing you. She’s an econ major, sorry for that.” Though Charles can’t see the expression on her face, he imagines there’s some sort of a victorious smile as she waves the man away, “Stop emasculating my friends, please.”

“Well choose better friends, and I won’t,” she shrugs, following his brother’s movements as he makes his way back near Charles, she turns towards him as the white dress she’s wearing sways gently in the evening breeze. There’s a surprised look on her face when she realises and they are not alone, “Um, hi.”

With a playful grin, Declan points to Charles and turns to his sister, “This is Charles, your new neighbour, and Charles, this is my sister–”

Bambi.

It’s the only word that comes to Charles’ mind when he sees your eyes and a friendly smile you give to him, “Nice to meet you, Charles.”

His eyes fall down to your extended hand, and he scrambles to regain his composure, taking your hand and shaking it gently. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you too.”

With an unexpected clap from your brother, which has both you and Charles jumping slightly, you turn to him with a glare, “Well, now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. And you,” he points to you which elicits a raised eyebrow from you, “don’t scare him off, and for God’s sake change this music.”

“What’s wrong with ABBA?” You ask with a small pout already forming on your lips.

“We need a change,” Charles watches with a silent chuckle as Declan starts walking back towards the kitchen, “ergo, change it!”

“Well that was an interesting exit,” you mumble, eyes following your brother until he’s out of both your and Charles’ views. Afterwards, you turn your attention back to the man standing in front of you, “What do you think about The Smiths?”

“Who?” Charles asks you, confusion written on his face.

“Not The Who,” you nudge him slightly, chuckling softly, though your laughter dies down once you realise he’s really confused. “I– The Smiths, Charles! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” you softly sing, but he replies with a small shake of his head, and a shrug. “Oh, I love The Smiths! Come on, you have a lot to learn.”

As you grab him by his wrist to guide him back inside the apartment, I might be in trouble, he thinks to himself. And then, you turn around to give him a full smile, with a glint of mischief in your eyes that he can't quite interpret, and say, “I can already feel that we are going to be very good friends.”

And then he knows, he’s definitely in trouble.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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antiquarianfics · 9 months

Text

Taken pt. 2

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

A/N: The response to pt. 1 was incredible! Thank you guys so much. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Genre: Angst/Fluff / WC: 1,341 /Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Kidnapping, canon-typical violence. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

previous part | series masterlist | next part

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"What do we know?" Steve asks, rubbing his chin.

"Y/N and Becca have been missing approximately 52 hours; their last known location was Central Park; there are no leads as to who took them; Y/N's phone connected to a cell tower in Munich, Germany 42 hours ago but we've still had zero contact," Tony reports, reading his notes from a tablet.

The same information Tony reports is posted on the screen behind him alongside your official Avenger's photo and a photo of Becca from her 4th birthday party. It makes Bucky sick to see his wife and daughter on the screen as if they're just victims the Avenger's need to save--but they are.

"It just doesn't make sense," Natasha says, pulling everyone's--Bucky, Steve, Wanda, Sam, Clint, and Tony's--eyes to her. "How come we can track her phone? If whoever took them have it, they would have disconnected it. If she has it, she could send a signal, a hint, something to give us a lead."

"Unless she's being watched," Clint points out, anxiously messing with a pen, twirling it through his fingers.

Sam nods in agreement. "Yeah, maybe they--they being who took the better Barnes'--don't know she has the phone and she's hiding it. As long as it's got juice and they don't know it, we've got a chance at finding her." Bucky smirks lightly at Sam's attempt at a joke to lighten the mood; you would've laughed.

"Or it could be a trap," Clint offers in rebuttal to Sam's hypothesis.

"Trap or not," Steve says, "we've got to follow a lead. The longer we wait, the less likely we find them."

Bucky stays silent, sitting alone in the corner of the room. Listening. Worrying. Trying to stay calm. He's exhausted; he hasn't slept since his girls went missing. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he scans the room, eyes falling on his friends working tirelessly to rescue his family before returning to the photos of you and Becca on the screen. He balls his hands into tight fists.

"Tony?" Wanda asks, taking a few frantic steps towards a far screen that displays your phone's tracker.

"I see it," Tony says, typing away on his tablet. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., status report?"

"The cellular device belonging to Agent Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes connected to a cell tower in Novosibirsk, Russia approximately 3 minutes ago. The device is holding at 8% battery life," the A.I. reports.

Bucky sits up straight, eyes narrowing on the red dot indicating his wife's location. He recognizes Novosibirsk as a major city in Siberia. His stomach turns as gears turn in his head. He feels eyes on him and he pulls his gaze away from your location to see Natasha staring at him, lips pulled into a tight frown; he realizes she's making the same realization he is. His gaze flicks to Steve who's staring at the ground, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration.

"I know where they are," Bucky says, closing his eyes, breathing in painfully slow in an attempt to ease his frantic heart rate.

"Well?" Tony asks indignantly. "Care to share with the class, Terminator?"

Bucky's left fist connects with the wall beside him, birthing an indentation of his hand in drywall. Clenching his jaw tightly, Bucky can't bring himself to form the words.

"The Siberian HYDRA facility," Natasha sighs. Her tone indicates she is nervous.

"Wait," Sam interrupts, "that's..." He trails off, eyes widening as he looks at a livid Bucky.

"The birthplace of the Winter Soldier Program," Steve confirms.

—

"Mommy?" Becca calls softly as her eyes flutter open.

"I'm right here, baby," you quickly confirm, swiping a few flyaways from the little girl's face. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," you assure.

You are unsure just how long you've been in the aircraft, but you know it's been a few days. You've not seen the outside of the hanger you found yourself in since you woke up inside of it. No one has brought food, or water, or even so much as spoken near enough to you to hear. You think you felt a touchdown and another take off somewhere along the way, though, and you're pretty sure you're actively feeling a descent.

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Becca complains, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I know, baby, I know," you pull your daughter into your chest, soothingly running your fingers through her hair. You're trying so hard to keep Becca calm, but it's becoming more difficult the hungrier and filthier she gets.

"Where's Daddy?"

"He's looking for us, sweet pea."

"How do you know?"

"Because," you pinch her cheek playfully, "your Daddy loves you more than anything in the whole wide world, and he would never let anything happen to you. He'll find us."

Your response seems to appease her, but she doesn't have a chance to argue anyway as the plane touches ground with a jostling thunk and throws her off balance. You quickly reach out, steadying the girl.

"You okay, Becca?" You ask, hands holding her still as your eyes frantically run over her body. She nods.

About 30 minutes pass--you think--when the aircraft door finally opens. Behind the door are 3 tall, bulky men with rifles and 1 shorter, sleazy looking man who is clearly--somehow--in charge.

"Welcome! Welcome!" The mysterious man greets, clapping his hands together. You push bile down your throat as you stand as quickly as you can manage, pushing Rebecca behind you gently.

"Who the hell are you?" You ask with a grimace. "And where do you get off kidnapping innocent women and children?"

"Please, Mrs. Barnes and little Miss Barnes, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Igor Morozov, but you may call me Dr. Frost. I presume it may be easier for the little one," Morozov--Dr. Frost--introduces.

You take him in. He's small (perhaps 5'5 and skinny), and he does not exude power. His dark black hair is slicked back so much so that it appears greasy and hairsprayed directly to his scalp. His grin is unsettling, gummy and with a prominent gold capped tooth where one of his front teeth should be. He's wearing a military style jacket, pleated trousers, and dress shoes. You can hardly believe he is the man in charge; he looks like he's a man pretending he's in charge.

You say nothing, further stepping in front of your daughter to shield her from the men in front of you. Your hand grips her shoulder tighter than you think you've ever held her.

Morozov seems unfazed by your irritable and accusatory behavior, his sickening smile never leaving his face.

"It's such a pleasure to have the Asset's plaything and offspring in our midst!" He chuckles and it makes bile fill your mouth. You swallow it back down. "Welcome to HYDRA's Siberian Facility! You may recognize the place as a home of sorts; after all, the Winter Soldier was born here!" Morozov claps his hands together. Giddy.

You bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself. In most circumstances, you would jump at the opportunity to fight your way out and towards freedom, but, in most cases, you're not holding yourself back for the safety of your 4 year old. Rebecca came first.

"What do you want with us?" You demand, but you're sure you'll be denied answers.

"All in good time, Mrs. Barnes. All in good time," Morozov assures, turning around and walking away. Your fingers twitch as you note you wish you could strike.

"Mrs. Barnes, do follow me, please," Morozov demands despite his polite formalities. "And I advise you keep the baby to your side. You never know where she may wander off to if you're not watching," he says ominously.

You clench your jaw as you scoop Becca into your arms. She clings to you, little arms surrounding your neck. The poor girl is terrified, and you know you have to pretend you're not, too. For her.

You follow after Morozov and pray your phone hasn't died yet.

Please, Buck. Find us.

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ko-fi

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky x reader angst #winter soldier x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst

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sugarmouchie · 6 months

Text

" 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓? "

ft. jingliu, shenhe, n kafka - requested by anon !!

sypnosis - they try to copy your accent but fail

warnings - gn!reader, reader w/ an accent, shenhe's is kinda longer than the others, slight violence in kafka's

JINGLIU. 🤍

"jingliu," you called out, your beautiful voice echoing across the room to where she was in the kitchen, to what seemed like she was taking forever in because you just taught her how to cook.

"yes?" she spoke back to you, her raspy voice catching you off guard once again.

"how long are you going to be taking in there, ma'am?" you scolded, to which you did not expect her to respond to you with -

"how long are you going to be taking in there?" mocking your exact words, except she used your accent.

...to which she failed miserably.

you couldn't help but let out a chuckle, because firstly, jingliu isn't the type of woman to be acting like this, and secondly, she used your accent.

you couldn't lie however, because her voice did sound pretty well doing it, but she failed nonetheless.

...

"so are you done laughing?"

and ever since that day, you had to teach her how to correctly speak in your accent, which surprisingly didn't even take that long to teach her for.

SHENHE. 🤍

shenhe began shyly walking up to you, to which you were confused by.

ever since you two entered the restaurant, she's been incredibly nervous for what ever reason she had going on in her brain.

she wasn't usually this nervous, except for the time that she had to pull you out of the water, but then xiao had to come and save you eventually.

after that day, she's began to become more of a confident woman in front of you, despite her stoic demeanor.

regardless of her attitude sometimes, referring to how she got moody when she was tired, you loved her.

...and she loved you, of course. your accent too.

so as you both are peacefully sitting down waiting for the waitress to come over to you both after it felt like she was teasing you two by looking your way every time she was serving somebody else, shenhe randomly decided to speak -

"hey, [name]," she began, to which you turned your head to her, eager to hear what she has to say after not talking for a while.

"err... you know i love your voice, yes?" she nervously continued, to which you nodded and gave her a gentle smile, "well, uhm, can i try..."

"speaking in your accent for you?" to which she began her words in your exact tone of your accent, which caught you completely off guard to how miserably she failed at doing it.

nonetheless, you couldn't help but smile at her, trying your hardest not to laugh before giving her a quick peck on her cheek.

all of a sudden, she wasn't that shy anymore, and after months passed by, she got used to using your accent more often when she got home from work to see you.

KAFKA. 🤍

ever since blade decided to visit you both, she could not stop flirting with you.

it felt as if she was trying to prove to blade that you belonged to her, not him.

she was pretty possessive.

it didn't surprise you, though, after all the times that she's gotten notified by either blade or silver wolf that you were in danger.

...which usually ended off with her violence towards the enemies that were harassing you.

anyway, today, blade was at your house, to which he had to watch over silver wolf who was rummaging around you and kafka's shared house, unsurprisingly.

when all of a sudden, as soon as silver wolf walked through the door, you heard a familiar voice speak in an unknown tone with words such as -

"welcome, welcome, make yourself at home," she paused, "me and [name] are going somewhere beautiful, i treat them the best as always."

the random flirting that she performed caught you off guard, but not completely when you heard her talking in your accent, to which your cheeks started abruptly forming into a shade of red, and you didn't know if it was from embarrassment or kafka's tone.

@sugarmouchie do not copy/translate/repost my works on other platforms, thank you 🤍

#valentine’s works 🎀#kafka x reader #jingliu x reader #shenhe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader

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wandaromanova · 1 year

Text

enigma.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Warnings: physical violence, bullying, one cuss word

A/N: hello! this is my first fic in a very long time and also my first wednesday fic. i’m super rusty so please bare with me. not proofread. happy reading <3

Summary: You’re the only person who sees Wednesday for who she really is.

Word Count: 3.2K | wednesday masterlist |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

Wednesday Addams was an enigma.

From the second Enid had introduced you to the newest Nevermore resident, your interest in the raven-haired girl had been piqued.

Lifeless stare, ghostly-pale skin that was ice cold to the touch, and the cadence of her brief yet eloquent words were like a breath of fresh air. You were instantly enamored by her, eager to know more.

However, that proved to be difficult as time passed. Wednesday was a person of few words and if she so happened to speak, all that would fall from her lips were insults or the occasional death threat.

Conversations were merely one-sided whenever you worked up the courage to speak to her, which eventually faltered as she blankly stared at you through her long lashes.

And it wasn’t like you could stalk her social media for some insight.

Unsurprisingly, she found social media to be, and you quote, “a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation.” You had to admit, she had a point.

All you could do was observe the things Wednesday would say or do. Considering you shared classes and had Enid as a common denominator, it wasn’t like all hope in getting to know the girl was lost.

You did notice the Addams girl somewhat warm up to everyone else, just not with you. As odd as it may sound, you wanted to be seen by the raven-haired girl.

It was as if the need to be accepted by her was consuming you.

At one point, you questioned whether or not there was any true depth to her. Was she genuinely cold-hearted or was there some semblance of humanity beneath her rough exterior? Why was she especially rash with you?

Wednesday Addams always had her guard up, so what was she trying to hide?

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You’d never forget your first decent interaction with Wednesday.

You were standing beside your locker, leaning against the wall as Enid went on a tangent about her feelings for Ajax.

As the wolf spoke animatedly, hands flailing about, your eyes couldn’t help themselves from diverting their attention to the living shadow that stalked your way.

Wednesday looked gorgeous as always, there was no doubt about that. There was something about the way she carried herself with such grace that stood out in a sea of people.

Not a single wrinkle of her clothes nor a strand of hair out of place, perfect posture, and burgundy lipstick that complimented her complexion beautifully.

Enid noticed your staring and turned around, her excitement going into overdrive which admittedly, you didn’t think was possible.

You loved the girl, but you sometimes wonder how she isn’t exhausted from all the energy she uses.

“Hi, roomie! How has your day been so far?” Enid’s enthusiasm was written all over her face, contrasting Wednesday’s lack thereof.

“It’s been dreadful,” Wednesday spoke monotonously as she glanced at you over her roommates’ shoulder.

“Dreadful in a good way or dreadful in a bad way?” The blonde inquired and Wednesday’s eyes snapped back to her in an instant.

“Dreadful in an ‘exsanguination is becoming increasingly appealing’ way. How you interpret that is inconsequential to me.”

Wednesday deadpanned, forcing Enid to awkwardly chuckle. You decided to try and save your friend from embarrassment.

“So, you’re having a decent day it seems.” You spoke up, the two girls focusing on you. The raven-haired girl stared at you with a glimmer of curiosity behind her dark eyes.

“And what gave you that impression?” You cleared your throat, playing with the collar of your uniform nervously as Wednesday raised an eyebrow.

“Exsanguination is surface-level or internal blood loss. It kills quickly and efficiently with little to no warning. It seems like something you would enjoy…”

You trailed off, avoiding eye contact with the cloud of darkness that stood before you as realization dawned on you. You sounded fucking insane.

However, you didn’t have time to contemplate getting psychiatric help before Wednesday’s soft yet firm voice met your ears.

“You’re the only person I’ve met in this hormone-infested hell to understand my implications.”

You half-heartedly smile in an attempt to remain calm and collected. There was no time to respond as the bell rang, signaling the students of Nevermore to head to their next class.

“Time to go, see you later Y/N. Don’t forget, we’re hanging out in my room later.” Enid half-yelled out as she walked past you.

Wednesday simply gave you a nod before following behind the hyper werewolf. As soon as the pair were out of sight, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

In a way as unorthodox as herself, Wednesday Addams had complimented you.

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You’d never forget when you caught her staring at you.

You were sitting at your self-designated seat in botanical science class, doodling random pictures into your notebook when you felt a presence beside you.

Confused, you look up to see Wednesday settling her backpack onto the floor, and that feeling increases tenfold. Normally, Wednesday is partnered up with Enid.

So…why was she here with you?

“Uh, hey. Why are you sitting here? Not that I mind, you just usually sit with Enid.” Your voice came out shaky and you mentally berated yourself for it.

“Enid wants Ajax to sit with her since their date went swimmingly. I had to hear about it all night, much to my misery.”

The raven-haired girl grumbled as she took out her notebook from her backpack, placing it on the table in front of her.

“Okay… cool, cool. It’s just that Yoko sits the-” You started to speak but instantly stopped as the girl you mentioned walked up to Wednesday’s side.

“That’s my seat, Addams.” The attitude was evident in your friend’s voice and expression, as you awkwardly sat and watched.

Wednesday turned her head, glaring at Yoko. You were glad to not be on the receiving end of her stare. She was honestly terrifying for such a tiny person.

“Not anymore.”

There was no room for argument as the storm cloud beside you faced forward once more. You shot Yoko an apologetic stare as she huffed and went off to find another chair. Soon after, Thornhill’s replacement came in and class began.

No words were spoken between you and Wednesday for the majority of the session. To be fair, it’s hard to get a word in when you’re copying down notes and trying to comprehend what the hell is going on.

You furrowed your eyebrows and bit down on your lip as you listened to the teacher, but the feeling of someone’s eyes on you pulled you from your trance. The second you turned your head, your eyes met Wednesday’s intense gaze.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Besides stupidity? No.”

You would say you were surprised by her response, but you weren’t. Part of you wanted to confront Wednesday, question her more.

However, you decided your ego couldn’t take another hit for the time being and left it to rest.

Perhaps she was internally judging every fiber of your existence. From what you knew about her, you figured that had to be the case. Nevertheless, her unwavering gaze persisted throughout the remainder of the period.

As the class came to a close, you turned to speak to the girl beside you, just to be met with an empty seat.

The only sign of Wednesday’s presence was the fleeting glimpse of her silhouette disappearing through the door. Disappointment washed over you, but you pushed it aside as you collected your belongings.

Flinging your backpack over your shoulder, you stood up and made your way over to Enid and Yoko. You gave them a puzzled look when you realized they had been sitting together during class, their items still scattered about the table.

“Hey Enid, I thought you were sitting with Ajax,” You greeted the blonde, curiosity laced in your voice. She flashed her signature wide smile at you, tilting her head to the side in a questioning manner.

“Nope, he was paired up with Xavier. They like drawing bugs together to bring to life, it’s really gross. Why would you think he was with me?”

Enid sidetracked before asking, staring at you in anticipation as she awaited your response.

“Oh, no reason. Just thought you guys would be together since you’re dating and all that jazz.” You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly before Enid forcefully linked her arm with yours.

She abruptly pulled you along as Yoko followed close behind, heading toward the exit practically jumping in excitement as she went on about the new desserts that were in the cafeteria.

Her words were mere whispers compared to the thoughts that clouded your mind.

Ajax and Enid hadn’t been together today like Wednesday said they would. So, why would she go through the trouble of sitting next to you, knowing that the spot was occupied by someone else? Why hadn’t she sat with Enid instead?

So many questions flew around your mind, but one aspect of the ordeal stood out to you. Out of all the places she could’ve been, she chose to be beside you. Wednesday had lied to be near you.

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You’d never when Wednesday stood up for you.

You were walking around Jericho Town Square, casually looking at the displays in the windows of the different shops when you caught sight of a group of five normie boys pointing and laughing at you from a distance.

You thought nothing of it until they started to make their way over to you.

You turned around, speed-walking in the opposite direction of the teens. You could hear their footsteps behind you, and as their pace picked up, so did yours. However, you couldn’t outrun them.

You felt a pull on the back of your shirt and before you knew it, you were being dragged into an alleyway and shoved up against a wall by your collar. You let out a grunt from the impact, your head hitting the cement with such force it made you lightheaded.

“Listen carefully, the mayor may let you weirdos roam around, but no one wants you here.”

The dude dressed in a letterman jacket gripped your collar tighter as his entourage laughed, pushing your body higher up on the wall, practically choking you as the material blocked your airways.

You were trembling, half because of fear and the other half from lack of oxygen. You were never one for violence and tried to avoid it at all costs.

“You’re worthless! Jericho would be a better place without mistakes like you here.” One of the four boys that were watching yelled. You couldn’t make out who was saying what as your vision began to blur, consciousness slowly leaving you.

The next thing you knew, your body was falling to the ground. You hit the floor hard, the impact causing you to wince before you felt kicks from every direction. All you could do was lay there and beg them to stop as the pain radiated throughout your body.

The insults and slurs they spat out had become muffled as you curled up into a ball, hands over the sides of your head in an attempt to protect it. It felt like the kicks would never end, until they did.

“Hey!” You heard a familiar voice shout out. The blows had come to an abrupt halt. You looked up to find the source of the sound and your eyes widened when they landed on Wednesday.

“Check it out boys, another freak for us to beat the shit out of. This should be fun.”

The boy who had previously pinned you to the wall had laughed out, the rest chuckling with him. However, they went silent and took a step back as the raven-haired girl pulled out a knife from her boot, inching towards them.

“Leave now or I’ll gut and fillet each and every one of you. And trust me, it wouldn’t be my first rodeo.”

Wednesday practically growled her words at them, fuming in anger. Her glare was as cold as you’d ever seen. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the knife with all of her strength. At that moment, you were convinced she was going to commit murder.

Her threat was enough to send the group running, as expected. Wednesday’s eyes remained on the teens until they were out of sight. She placed the knife in the place she found it before rushing over and dropping to her knees in front of your writhing body.

You were shaking like a leaf, still scared they might return with a vengeance as you voiced your concerns to the girl above you.

“W-Wednesday, what if they come back to hurt me again?” You croaked out, letting out a groan when she lightly touched your side.

“If they do, I’ll make sure their bodies are never found.”

She stared down at you, analyzing your visible injuries before coming to the conclusion that you wouldn’t be able to get up and walk. “I’m going to have to carry you. There’s no way you’ll get to Nevermore on your own, let alone out of this alley.”

You simply nodded as she placed her arms under your body. The moment she lifted you up, an agonizing cry left you. It felt as if your body was on fire. You knew she was being as gentle as she could, that was evident when she began walking. She moved at a slow pace to avoid as much movement and friction as possible.

A few minutes later, you started to feel sleepy, but you were pretty sure your body was just shutting down from the trauma it endured. You managed to murmur a “thank you for saving me,” before closing your eyes and drifting into sleep, not expecting a response.

The colorless girl waited until your breathing had evened out, a sigh leaving her lips as she stared down at you in her arms, still being cautious of each step she took.

“I wish I had sooner.”

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You’d never forget your first kiss with Wednesday.

In the following months after the incident, she’d been less callous towards you. You figured she was pitying you, but this was Wednesday Addams we were talking about. She isn’t capable of pity. So, you had no idea why she was allowing you to get closer to her.

Nevertheless, you enjoyed being able to hang out with the girl without low-key fearing for your life. And with the close proximity, you had developed feelings for her.

It was hard not to fall for Wednesday. She’s incredibly smart, a master at playing the cello, an amazing writer, and beautiful. The only problem was her lack of interest in you.

Sure, you enjoyed learning about her, but she never attempted to learn anything about you.

Reciprocated feelings or not, she was still your friend and it kind of hurt that she showed no regard for who you were as a person. It was almost as if she accepted your company for the sake of having someone there.

So, one day you finally decided to tell her how you felt, for better or for worse.

You’d been in Wednesday and Enid’s room. Enid was at the movie theater with Ajax, leaving you and her roommate alone. The room was silent, the only sound to be heard was the clicks of Wednesday’s typewriter.

You were sitting on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone. However, you couldn’t get the girl who was just a few feet away out of your mind. A sigh escaped your lips, grabbing Wednesday’s attention.

“Someone looks miserable.” Her voice, despite the insult, was music to your ears. You knew that was her way of asking what was bothering you. You decided to grow a pair and finally talk to her, seeing as this was the perfect opportunity to do so.

“I know it’s your writing hour, but can we talk? It’s important.” You shyly asked as you stood up and made your way toward her, internally rolling your eyes at yourself. You were trying to sound confident and ultimately failed.

“It better be,” Wednesday mumbled, removing the paper from her typewriter and neatly placing it on the side of her desk. She spun her chair to the side, looking up at you expectantly. You gulped, looking down at the floor as you tried to formulate the words you wanted to say before committing to them.

“So, um, we’ve been friends for a while now, and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about it. It’s just sometimes it feels like the interest is one-sided. Maybe it just hurts because I have romantic feelings for you, but I want you to see me for who I am. I don’t even know if I’m making any sense. I’ll shut up now.”

You couldn’t even look the girl in the eyes as you attempted to keep your voice stable. Your heart was racing as you waited for her to say something, anything.

A minute had passed before Wednesday stood from her chair. You thought she was about to force you out of the room and tell you to never come near her again, but that didn’t happen. She spoke instead.

“You play with the collar of your uniform when you’re nervous, bite your lip when you’re concentrating, you tremble when you’re scared, and you look down at the floor to avoid eye contact when you’re under stress.”

You looked up at her in shock, instantly making eye contact with the girl. Truthfully, you didn’t even know you did those things yourself. They were simply subconscious ticks that you had. You were about to speak up, but Wednesday had beat you to it.

“You somehow enjoy chick-flicks, your favorite color is a nauseating tone of pink, you’re afraid of the dark so you sleep with a nightlight, you order a caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream at the Weathervane, and you’re allergic to tomatoes.”

As the raven-haired girl listed off more facts about you, you were rendered speechless. You weren’t even sure how she knew about your nightlight or your tomato allergy, but this wasn’t the time to question her.

All you could do was stare at her like a deer caught in headlights. You were in such disbelief that you didn’t even realize that Wednesday had gotten closer.

You were finally brought back down to earth when you felt her cold hand cup your cheek. You stared deeply into her dark eyes, before taking a leap of faith and connecting your lips with hers.

There was some hesitancy at first, but the feeling of her lips on yours was euphoric.

You were instantly addicted and believed Wednesday felt the same way, if her hands that tangled themselves in your hair were any indication.

When air became an issue, you pulled away, allowing the two of you to catch your breath, your forehead connecting with hers.

Your eyes were closed as you smiled, taking in the moment you had been waiting for, but your eyes fluttered open, locking onto Wednesday’s as she filled the comfortable silence.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’ve never seen anyone as clearly as I do you, Y/N.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams #wednesday addams fluff #wednesday addams x y/n

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channieismyboy · 1 year

Text

rainy days - b.c

{bang chan x gn!reader}

genre: comfort, angst and fluff at the end - masterlist

synopsis: chan surprises you on a rainy day, but he never expected to find you crying in your bed alone. wc: 0.6k

warnings: mentions of anxiety and crying, reader is going through a hard time, chan comforts the reader gently, the reason of why the ready is crying isn't specified.

an: this a bit self-indulgent. with everything that has been going on, i needed an escape. i hope this helps you have some reassurance as well, stay safe

---------------------------------------------------

you don't want to leave your bed. you physically cannot handle leaving your current position; curled up on your right side, and staring at the gray sky beyond your window. you haven't moved since the morning, the rain has woken you up, and the storm is still going strong. every now and then, flashes of lighting and crashing sounds of thunder gain your attention. there are days where you can't leave your room, choosing to deal with your emotions by yourself. it is however, these moments when you need someone, you need chan.

chan is worried. he's staring at the unread messages he sent you. with each passing hour of you not answering, his concerns deepen. after hours of being on delivered, he decides enough is enough, he's going to check up on you, to see if you're okay.

he rushes to get ready as quickly as possible, turning off his computer with his latest demo, making sure to save the beginnings of his work fast. he runs out in the rain, gets in his car, and speeds towards your apartment. his mind is filling up with various thoughts of what may be going on. he calls you non stop on the road, yet it always leads to voicemail.

chan arrives at your apartment, and unlocks your door with your shared keys. "y/n! where are you?"

you hear your loving boyfriend's cries, but you don't answer. you're focused on something else. chan sees that you're not in the living room, you must be in the bedroom then. he opens the door to your room, and he's met with your curled up form. you're shaking and muffled cries leave your form, you glance back at him. you meet his eyes, and see how distressed your poor and caring boyfriend is.

the moment chan sees your pained face, his heart feels like it's shattering into pieces. "oh baby, why are you crying?" he says, his voice is small, and full of concern.

it's always that simple question that makes the tears flood. you sit up, you try to explain your sadness, yet you fail to do so. chan knows that you won't be able to explain. so he sits beside you, and takes you into his arms. his hand grazes your back gently.

"it's going to be okay. i'm here now y/n, there's no need to worry sweetheart." chan says, now his hand is caressing your hair.

he continues his thoughts, "when you're ready to tell me what's wrong, i'll be right here. that's what i'm here for, so please don't hold back. i hate to see your gorgeous face in such sadness."

you lay in his grasp for the next few minutes, as you quietly sob into his hoodie. after the passing minutes go by, you focus on the senses around you. the warmth of chan's body, the gentle head pats he's giving you, the faint smell of cologne, and the sounds of rainfall in the background; you begin to feel at peace. your cries swell down, and you look at chan directly.

he looks into your face, you see him staring into your swollen eyes. he lets out a laugh under his breath, "your eyes are puffy,".

seeing a smile on his face is contagious, since you find yourself smiling back at the loving man in front of you. "shut up, i know."

"it's adorable, don’t stop"

please do not repost, translate, or upload any of my works and posts on other websites and accounts without my permission, and any credit given to me.

753 notes · View notes

writethrough · 1 year

Text

The Stranger Things Collection

The Collections

I do not permit anyone to copy, repost, and/or share my work anywhere, translated or otherwise. However, please feel free to like, comment, and reblog!

All rights to the media and characters below belong to the original creators and writers.

Moodboard by @steph-speaks

BILLY HARGROVE

Bad Boy Type (Fem!Reader) ⊹ Girls' night at Billy and Max's new place takes a turn when El insists on you marrying Billy.

By the Lakeside (Fem!Reader) ⊹ You're spending the day at Lover's Lake with everyone when Jason decides to humiliate you. It's a good thing Billy and Eddie are there.

Connection (GN!Reader) ⊹ You stumble across Billy when you go to stargaze. He seeks you out each time after.

Found You (GN!Reader) ⊹ You give Billy what he's always needed.

I Know Better (Fem!Reader) ⊹ You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Life Guard (Fem!Reader) ⊹ It's the middle of summer and everyone decides to go to the pool. You don't know how to swim, but at least Billy's on duty.

Lost Things, Found Beginnings (GN!Reader) ⊹ You find Billy's ring on your way into work and can't stop the swirling thoughts on how to return it. How does he react when you do?

Morning Blue (GN!Reader) ⊹ Waking up with Billy.

The Only Destination (GN!Reader) ⊹ Sometimes you can’t stand all the noise and the people. You want to run and hide, but you don’t know where to go. Until you spot the one person who you’ll always run toward.

A Place to Land (Fem!Reader) ⊹ You told Billy you love him. And he knows it's time to break up with you.

Refuge (GN!Reader) ⊹ Billy seeks you out after another incident with Neil.

A Sign of Heat (GN!Reader) ⊹ Billy's a textbook Aries, and you tell him as much...with a little twist.

Still A Thing (Fem!Reader) ⊹ You and Billy are visiting Hawkins for the week, and of course, you run into Tommy H. who still has trouble shutting his mouth.

Sun Daze (GN!Reader) ⊹ Warmth comes from more than the sun.

EDDIE MUNSON

By the Lakeside (Fem!Reader) ⊹ You're spending the day at Lover's Lake with everyone when Jason decides to humiliate you. It's a good thing Billy and Eddie are there.

Little Chickadees (GN!Reader) ⊹ Eddie signs you both up to work the petting zoo, but just because he likes to hang out with kids, doesn't mean you do.

Track Two (Fem!Reader) ⊹ As you and the gang are trying to stop Vecna, save Max, and clear Eddie's name, you see something that shakes you to your core.

STEVE HARRINGTON

Fill In the Cracks (GN!Reader) ⊹ There's no way someone like Steve would love you. It's only a matter of time before he forgets you.

BONUS CONTENT

⊹ Billy's Love Languages

THE BRAIN ROT BRIGADE PRESENTS...with @bookshelf-dust and @steph-speaks

⊹ Billy As A Firefighter ⊹ Billy at Disney ⊹ Billy Giving You the Look ⊹ Billy Knowing When You Need to Be Grounded (Part I / Part II) ⊹ Billy Working at Target ⊹ Eddie Letting You Play With His Hair

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weenwrites · 3 months

Note

love 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 LOVE your writing! You’re one of, like, three authors I can actually identify. (I don’t pay attention to who writes what nor do I remember, but you write so well that from rereads and new reads I recognize you).

When you feel up to it, can you do TFP Smokey, OP, and Ratchet with an s/o (cargo plane alt, big bot, like Stratosphere) crashing like Smokey did and the surprise reunion? Aaaand maybe other misc reactions of such a big bot?

✎ A/N: Aa thank you so much for your kind words!! :D Also I could've sworn I did a reuniting with S/O on earth thing with Optimus and Ratchet before, so I leaned more towards reactions about having a massive S/O instead.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Smokescreen

When the two of you first met, he was in complete and total awe at your sheer gargantuan size. In fact, the way he gawked at you the whole time he was passing by, may have caught your attention and saved him from bumping straight into a glass panel that two bots were moving, and if that wasn't the case, then ah well.

Anyway, back before the war grew so hectic, he was proud to have a partner as cool as you, and every time the random person he was talking with would comment about you, he'd casually just slip in a "yeah, that's my partner" with the most love-struck look on his face.

There's no place in the world where he wouldn't recognize you right off the bat. Aside from your size being your most defining trait, he'd recognize your color scheme, alt-mode, and voice anywhere, no matter what was going on. And the moment you crash-landed right in front of him, he was so confident that he knew you well enough to tell you apart from any phony.

Of course the rest of the team were immediately going at him, telling him that it's not that easy to tell their real friends apart from the spies, but when he's proven right that it is indeed you, he never lets them live it down and now all they want is for him to shut up about it.

As badly as he wants to share a habsuite with you, the chances are that you are waaay too big to fit in any rooms. The largest room that could possibly fit you is the training room, but even then you dwarf it easily (and also they need to use that...). Once you get your own room, however, he spends much more time with you in there than he does in his own habsuite.

He brags about you quite a lot to the rest of the team and says things like "did you know that my s/o—" or "oh hey! y/n used to enjoy doing that before the war—" and at this point they're all fed up with how lovesick he is. They would shove him off on patrol with you to take care of the problem. Even Arcee's started teasing you, about all these things that Smokescreen's said, and honestly it'll get so embarrassing that you'll probably ask him to stop at some point.

He's very eager to fight along side you, and keeps encouraging you to go out with him into battle. He'll paint vivid pictures of your shared glory—just imagine, the moment you step onto the field you'll completely level the cons to ashes! They won't ever know what hit them!

Optimus

If you met sometime before the war, when he was still an archivist, then he'd frequently go out to visit you since you were probably too big to be walking around the Iacon Hall of Records. Flying with you was one of his favorite past times after any long and difficult shifts. Unfortunately the two of you don't get to enjoy that once peaceful feeling of flying together when the war started. Flying lost its relaxing touch and soon became more stressful and frightening, as the fear of being shot out of the sky became more prevalent in both your lives.

Soon enough, the fear of losing one another had became something so horrifically possible, and the next second it became real, and the rest became history that passed in several long, agonizing years.

As opposed to expressing joy and relief to seeing you again—well, he partly was—he was initially skeptical that it was truly you. The team had been tricked by a decepticon spy before, who's to say it won't happen again? Yet the moment you confirm your identity, he allows his cold, distant front to drop, and he sincerely welcomes you back.

Though he didn't express any enthusiasm outright upon seeing you again, he makes his feelings clearer once the two of you are away from prying eyes. And as you catch up, it's not hard to miss how the war has made him jaded and weary, yet you don't have to look too far to see glimpses of how he was before.

He tries to situate a nice comfortable living space for you—preferably somewhere that's within the base, but since you're too big to fit in any of the current rooms they have, the best they'd have is probably someplace outside. And if this is sometime after the base was destroyed, then unfortunately the best he could do for you was get the biggest hangar they have on base to house you in your alt-mode.

But then there comes the problems with energon rations... Your massive size and your altmode automatically constitutes an equally large portion of energon is required for you to function, and with the team's unfortunate shortage and size, it's difficult to obtain enough energon to keep everyone functioning... Yet perhaps now with your assistance, it may be easier to obtain enough energon to supply the entire team.

Ratchet

Even before the war, he was no stranger to loss. There have been patients who he couldn't save and the war only increased that amount ten-fold, yet the feeling never ceased in it's capacity to tear him apart from the inside. A lot of horrible things have happened to him, but the moment he lost you took the cake for the "worst thing that's ever happened". And in that moment, it was as if things were as painful and horrible as possible, it couldn't get any worse and it would never get better again.

And yet that moment eventually passed, as all things do. Though the tears shed have long since dried, and the loud, echoing sobs have grown quiet, that absence always stuck with him. He doesn't think of it as much as he used to, he's far too occupied with his own work to mourn, but it's still there.

Beholding you was like beholding a ghost, and he couldn't really believe that you were standing right there in front of him. He's nigh speechless, but somehow he manages to get himself together to say your name at the very least. He's quick to run a general check-up, and your massive size doesn't slow his work in the slightest.

As much as he'd prefer to have you live within the base, the place is already pretty crowded as is, and with someone your size packed in with the rest of the bunch, he wouldn't be surprised if the number of accidents around the base would skyrocket tenfold. Of course he doesn't mean any offense to you, it's just that there's no space for you. Their current base is so ridiculously minuscule in comparison to the buildings back on cybertron that it feels like they're living in a cardboard box that the U.S. government kicked over to them. While it's certainly far from ideal, he still has to make do, so he'll try to help think of something to improve your living conditions.

Sure, the thought that someone could get hurt on a mission is something that weighs on his mind every single time, but for some reason whenever you're deployed, that anxiety of his worsens ten-fold. It may be because you're partners, but from a medical standpoint, if you were to get hurt, you could leave a massive crater in the team's resources. Not only could you easily wipe out what little energon they have, but the team doesn't have the proper resources to patch up any major injuries, and the last thing he wants right now is to be forced to say goodbye to you permanently.

#tfp imagines #tfp headcanons #tfp x reader #tfp smokescreen #smokescreen x reader #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #tfp ratchet #ratchet x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #weenwrites

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alotofpockets · 6 months

Text

Moon | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Based on the song Moon by Reneé Rapp. Reader is having a hard time sleeping after a bad breakup with Wanda.

A/n: This is a repost from an old account.

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1K

Sleep didn’t come easy to you these days, you spend your nights either staring at your ceiling or outside of your window, your thoughts never ending. The lack of sleep caused by your breakup with Wanda was taking a toll on your mental health. Though, your days tend to be better than your nights, during the day you have enough distractions to not miss Wanda. However, the second you flipped the lights off and you’re in this room at night, that’s when your mind starts wondering, thinking back on the time you spent with her. Remembering all the happy memories that you shared, though of course that only made you miss her more.

It hurts that she’s somewhere out there still existing, while you feel like you don’t sometimes. You feel like a robot on autopilot trying to navigate through the week. You get up in the morning, go to work, get home, eat, go to bed, and do it all over the next day. Nothing more than a step by step routine, a mindless cycle, to survive.

It had been incredibly hard to try and not care about Wanda, when all you wanted to do was convince her to stay. In your mind you knew that was never going to happen though, she had made that very clear. Not to say the breakup was all Wanda’s fault though. You had hoped for Wanda to see your point, to fight for what you had, but you ended up having different views. Talking about those differences had ended up in a much different way than you had imagined.

Wanda had come back injured from yet another mission, it broke you to see her hurt, especially because it happened over and over again. She would come back home with cuts, bruises and broken bones, mission after mission. It was getting bad to the point that you just had to share your thoughts on the matter.

“Darling, you’re hurt again, that is like the third time this month. You have to be more careful.” You said sharing your concerns. In hindsight bringing this conversation up right after she came back from an exhausting mission wasn’t the best timing, but there was no turning that back around. “I can’t very well put my safety first when I am trying to help people, y/n.” Wanda replied in annoyance. “When I am saving lives, I have to put their lives in front of my own, that’s kind of in the job description.” - “I know it’s a part of the job, it’s just that I am trying to plan a future with you but each time you’re on a mission I am afraid that you won’t come back to me, and that scares me. I know how important being an Avenger is to you. How important it is to right the wrongs from your past, but at what point will saving lives and putting your own in danger make it even?” You’re getting frustrated, as all these emotions have been piled up over the past couple of months. You should’ve communicated feeling this way sooner, you realize that now, maybe then you would still be able to fix this.

“If you know how important this is to me, you wouldn’t ask me to give it up.” You take a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m not asking you to give it up. I’m just.. I guess I’m just asking if you can work in the field less. You can be an Avenger in many ways, training or less invasive missions for example. All I’m asking is for you to prioritize our future a bit more.” Wanda was clearly not agreeing with you as she replied back to you with, “That certainly could be a possibility for some people, but not for me. I am not going to change what I love doing the most in this world for an outcome that is up to fate anyways. I’m not giving up on the one thing that makes me feel the slightest bit okay with what I did in my past, not just because you’re scared that I might not make it. I can handle myself just fine and why don’t you just work on being less worried?”

The tears you had been holding in were now rolling down your cheeks. “I can’t, Wanda. I can’t go on like this anymore. I can’t keep thinking you are going to die everytime you go out on a mission. I can’t, I can’t do this. If you don’t want to try for us, I think this is it.”

That was the last time you had seen Wanda in person. Wanda didn’t want to fight for your future together, and you couldn’t keep going without any change. So, that’s how your three year relationship ended. A part of you understood that it wasn’t fair of you to ask her to step down, as you knew how important being an Avenger was to her, but the bigger part of you still stood behind your own needs. It would have happened over time anyways but you couldn't imagine staying happy in a relationship where you’re constantly worried about if they’re going to come back to you alive, especially because she had no interest in being safer and more caring about her own life, in any way, shape or form.

The conversation of that night plays over and over in your head, while you’re laying in bed looking out of the window. The moon shines bright and you wonder if Wanda is having trouble sleeping too, is she looking at the moon, just as you are? The night skies stare back at you as in the stars, you can see her eyes. The only place left for you and her to exist.

As the light reflecting off the moon casts streaks of light onto your face, your last thought before closing your eyes was you wondering, when we’re looking at the same moon, do you miss me too?

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wanda mcu

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starastrologyy · 1 year

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Astrology Observations

Please do not plagiarize anything that I write or repost on any other social media platform 🤍

It’s so interesting because I know three couples who have Mars conjunct their composite Ascendant/ Mars in the composite 1st house. Their conflicts are often very public; as in people know when they are fighting or when they are not speaking. I thought this was interesting and very fitting. I will say that these couples have Aries or Scorpio on the composite ascendant which probably amplifies the drama(conflict). Thus, things may manifest differently in relationships that have ‘non-confrontational’ signs such as Pisces/Virgo/Capricorn on the ascendant.

Solar return years where your Solar Return Ascendant or Midheaven is in the same sign as your natal Midheaven or Ascendant, will likely be very pivotal years for you. With the Solar return Midheaven being in the same sign as your natal Midheaven, something major is likely to occur in your life in relation to your career or worldly status. By a change in ‘worldly status’ , I mean you may become a wife/husband, a mother/father, a doctor, a business owner, etc… something about your title is likely to change! You may even leave a job and start your own business, become unemployed, graduate college and so on! Major transitions and life changes are often indicated by a solar return ascendant or Midheaven being in the same sign as the natal ascendant or Midheaven.

People who have Uranus square Chiron in their birth charts often feel very isolated in the world. One of their major wounds often stems from the fact that they are different from most people, and thus they frequently feel like outsiders, or feel as if other people perceive them as being “weird”. This placement can make it difficult for a person to gain a real sense of community or belonging!

Jupiter transiting your 3rd house is very auspicious if you’re looking to get your drivers license! This can also be a very fruitful time, If you have some kind of online business/blog.

When someone’s Mars falls into your 8th house, you may feel a strong attraction to them, even if they are not your usual type. I’ve had clients who share this synastry with someone tell me that the Mars person was not their initial type, but after they were intimate their attraction towards mars skyrocketed!

If you have the ruler of your Ascendant or your IC (4th house cusp) placed in the 9th house, you will likely travel a lot or relocate throughout your life!

People with Taurus on the IC make good interior designers! These people often have a keen eye for decorating! Alternatively, I’ve also seen this placement manifesting as people thinking you come from an affluent/wealthy family even if you don’t!

A friend of mine fell pregnant when she had both her moon & mars in her solar return 5th house. What’s interesting is the north node was also transiting her natal 5th house that year!

Kylie Jenner is a perfect example of the positive way in which having a Scorpio moon can manifest; in relation to the Mother! People always say Scorpio moons tend to have “mommy issues” which can be true, but on the other end they can be exceptionally close with their mothers like Kylie and Kris! However, Kris Jenner is a Scorpio sun which may explain her bond with Kylie as they have a “sun moon conjunction” in their synastry. (She has admitted that Kylie is her favorite child) nevertheless, I’m essentially saying that having a Scorpio moon does not mean you’re automatically tied to the mommy wound narrative. It can actually be the exact opposite since Scorpio is the planet of extremes.

If you have Lilith in the 4th house, specifically if it’s conjunct your IC, you may have grown up feeling like the “black sheep” of your family.

One thing that I think a lot of people forget is the fact that there’s a duality that exists within most placements. For example, whilst Neptune in the 7th can suggest you attract partners who need saving, or perhaps you find yourself in relationships with people who have been victimized by life in some way, it is also possible that some of your partners perceive YOU to be this way. It’s not always cut and dry! Sometimes our placements (especially the ones in our relationship houses) can tell us how other people perceive us! Thus, most placements go both ways!

Click the link in my bio if you are interested in purchasing a chart reading!🤍

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kyra45 · 7 months

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Pet donation scams

What is a pet donation scam? - This kind of scam is most commonly done with cats though on occasion a dog is used. When someone is doing this scam, they have went on a private group or public site and saved the post there such as it’s images,story, and the owners name. The scam is that when they repost it to here, they have edited out any real fundraiser method and replaced it with their own fraudulent one. They don’t actually own the cat/dog but have copied the real fundraiser just enough to pass it off as their own pet. Nothing in the post tells you it’s someone else’s pet as they really want you to trust them enough to send money without looking too much into it. While the images and story are legitimate, the other information has been purposely removed. Nothing given goes to the animal in need.

Was there an ask sent? - Commonly found by asks that are sent requesting private answers. Recently, these asks tell you they don’t want people thinking you was pressured into sharing the post and people might be weird about it. Really, they just don’t want people seeing your answer when the ask is searched because you’d see how many others have got it and may have called it out. These asks are designed to guilt trip you and shame people who call them out but usually gives it away their not being honest since no one would ask you something like that. You might get this ask by sharing a trending/popular post.

How much content is on the account itself? - When checking the blog out that sent you the ask or has the post shared by someone you follow, keep in mind how many posts the account has overall. Usually there’s only a few trending/popular/fandom posts shared and then the pinned post itself. Their archive is usually turned off so you can’t see this; But scrolling for a few minutes should mean you’ll find the last post quickly. Turning on timestamps should also show you the posts were all shared at the same time too and they don’t have any tags either.

Have you asked them questions? - If unsure of the account’s legitimacy, I suggest asking them a few questions about the pet: How long have they had them? Do they have older vet records of past visits? Can they show you a recent pic of them holding their name on a paper near the cat? Would calling the vet itself be possible for donating? Any of these would be answered easily by someone who actually owns the pet. But those who don’t own them won’t be able to answer or properly.

What is a quick way to spot this scam? - Check the date of the pinned post. It’s usually only a few hours old, a day old, or even a week old. Another way is searching the bio to see if it’s been stolen off someone else. Look at the vet location and then press/hold or hover over the link they give you. If the country doesn’t match the state, it’s likely not the real owner of the pets link. As these suspicious accounts tend to impersonate the actual owners closely in order to look legitimate.

What to do once you figure out it’s a scam? - Warn anyone who doesn’t know it’s a scam and has shared the post unless they’ve called them out. Report the account for phishing (Report -> Something else -> Illegal uses or content -> Phishing), block them, then alert your followers as well. Keep in mind scammers will always delete/hide any replies/reblogs that have called them out.

—

If you like this guide, feel free to check out my blog as I report on these scams nearly daily among other kinds of scams that I post about. If you like my hobby, feel free to drop some pocket change as thanks! However, all I really want you to do is share this post to help me bring awareness of tumblr scams. Send it to people who might not know what a pet donation scam is or link to it in posts you make! Thanks. Hope this information is helpful!

#scam #long post #longpost #how to spot a scam blog #pet donation scam #pet scam #psa #important information

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

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Cold Water

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: best friends should always be honest with each other

Synopsis: You and your best friend are at odds when you learn that he kept his new girlfriend a secret from you on purpose

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @fallon-carrington123 (I incorporated the first part of your request. Part 2 is where I’ll add the rest!)

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Read My Superstar first

It had been maybe a week or so since you learned the news of Urban having a girlfriend for two months over an instagram post. Safe to say that you were hurt because he didn’t tell you and it didn’t seem as if he was going to mention it until he got caught.

You and Urban have been close since the time the two of you were 14 when you both met and you simply shared everything with him. Even if it had to do with your beloved husband.

You know had a three week break from tour and you were back at home with Jack and Urban. However, the tension in the house was at an all time high because you had been giving Urban the silent treatment. The rest of PG were also there and you were all sitting around having a movie marathon and eating some homemade pizza that you had made for them.

PG didn’t want to say anything regarding you and Urban and figured that the two of you would work it out yourselves.

You two literally couldn’t live without the other so they knew you would make up soon.

You got up to go into the kitchen to refill your lemonade when Urban walked in to confront you.

He was over you ignoring him and wanted to fix this or at least attempt to.

“This shit stops right now. We need to talk about this.” You heard him say from behind you as you were finishing pouring the lemonade in your cup. You rolled your eyes before turning around to look at him.

“You lied to me! We have been friends for ten years! I have never lied to you about anything or kept something from you because guess what? You’re my best friend and best friends don’t do that!”

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you? Honestly?”

“I’m all ears, Wyatt. The fact that you told the rest of them before me and they met her? You even told Neelam before me! Like what the actual fuck?”

“BECAUSE YOU HAVE LITERALLY RUINED EVERY SINGLE RELATIONSHIP THAT I’VE BEEN IN!”

“What?!? No, I haven't Urban! That is complete bullshit!”

“You sure about that? Let me pull the receipts.”

“Is it my fault that no one that you’ve dated has been good enough for you!? My best friend deserves the best!”

“How can I find that if you keep running them off?!”

“Urban, Jessica was rude as hell every time we went out and didn’t give two shits about her attitude. The way she would speak to people was insane.”

“Damn, sounds like you’re talking about yourself. I’m going to need for you to stop being a hypocrite.”

“Urb! I am not rude! I never have been!”

“But your attitude could use some work! You never see the fault in what you do! EVER!”

“THAT IS NOT TRUE! What about Reina?! She dated you only to become closer to Jack and I don’t know why that was her goal simply because he’s married to me! She wasn’t thinking about you! She did not have your best interest!”

“But you didn’t have to fight her either! Let’s not forget the girls you ran off because of how you act and the fact that they didn’t get your approval! It’s like they see how you are and run for the hills!”

“You’re my best friend and I am always going to protect you!”

“You can do that without constantly being on my ass all the time, Y/N! Like damn let me breathe! Last time I checked I was a grown ass man who could take care of himself!”

“But….”

And that’s when the tears started to fall.

Meanwhile PG was standing to the side of the doorway out of both of your line of vision listening to the heated exchange happening between you and Urban.

“Uhh, Jack? Maybe you should intervene.” 2fo said while looking over at him.

“Absolutely not. They need to work this out themselves. I can’t always run and save the day every time she has a disagreement with someone. She’s an adult. Now if anything disrespectful was said that’s a different story.”

“But, Urb is kinda making some valid points. She is very protective of all of us but especially him.” Shloob confessed with car keys in hand just in case he had to make a quick exit.

“True, like sometimes I don’t say certain things around her because I don’t know how she’s going to react.”

“We all know that she doesn’t tolerate bullshit and only wants the best for us.”

“Yeah, but like Urb said she has to let us breathe and not be on our backs all the time.”

“Urban! Why can’t you see how much I care about you?!”

“I do and I’m going to need for you to stop crying because you are always playing the victim and I’m tired of it. Any time someone says something you don’t like or they’re telling you about yourself you get upset and cry. Grow the fuck up. Don’t you think I eventually want what you and Jack have? How am I supposed to do that if you literally run off every girl that I show interest in?”

All you did was simply look at him speechless with tears rolling down your face.

Your intentions were always pure when it came to Urban or anybody in PG who had gotten a girlfriend. You wanted for them to be on the same level as them and not settle for less.

Your feelings were hurt to think that Urban believed that you would intentionally do that to him.

All you wanted was to see your best friend happy.

“Then I’m sorry for caring and loving my best friend and wanting for him to have what he deserves. You won’t have to worry about me doing that anymore.”

“Wait, Y/N….”

Urban tried to catch your hand as you walked past him but you quickly snatched away from him. PG scrambled to go back to their places on the couches in the living room but you knew that they had been listening.

Jack saw your face full of tears and was now kind of annoyed with Urban for making you cry even if he had been right.

“Baby…”

“I.. just need a minute.”

You went upstairs and simply laid down and cried at what just happened.

The two of you had never argued or gotten into disagreements the entire ten years that you had been friends.

This hurt and it was never your intention to keep Urban from finding someone to be with.

But if he felt that you weren't doing any good by hovering over him, consider it done.

You just wanted to make sure that it was someone who wanted Urban for him and not anything else.

Why couldn’t he understand that?

It had been about another week or so since the huge blow up between you and Urban and it was safe to say that the silent treatment was continuing.

Well you couldn’t exactly call it that seeing as if he asked you something, you did answer him but simply left it at that.

To avoid all of this Urban had been spending more time with Yasmin who you still had yet to meet.

You figured it would happen eventually, but you weren't in any rush since he told you that you had ruined every relationship that he had been in previously so you continued to keep your distance.

It was around 11 am when PG decided that they wanted to go play laser tag and wanted for you to join them.

“Y/N, I need you on my team because you're little and you can hide and do sneak attacks.” Ace said but you kept a neutral face.

“No, I’m already doing something.”

“Wait, what? You’ve been dodging us all week! Come with us!”

"If I wasn't already doing something, I would."

"Well if we get dinner later are you coming?"

You simply shrugged.

"If I get finished maybe but I don't know." You honestly answered before going back upstairs and getting ready to meet Megan in the studio.

You had written a song for her to put on her new album and wanted to record it today in the hopes of getting your mind off everything else.

Once you were out of earshot everyone turned towards Urban.

"Will you two make up already!? And you can tell she's upset!"

"I tried to explain why I did it but of course she doesn't see anything wrong in what she did."

"Urb, you know how she is. You more so than anyone else besides Jack."

"Just because I know how she is doesn't make it right. She's upset because I told her the truth and I also kind of told her to back off a little bit and stop hovering."

"Well damn. That's why she hasn't wanted to go out with us."

"I meant to stop hovering around me when it came to relationships, not hanging out with us in general."

You knew it would be awkward with both you and Urban there and you didn't want to add more fuel to the fire.

"Jack, fix this! I miss her cooking for all of us. Now she's all sad and shit and making us eat take out. I swear that I can’t eat another egg roll."

"It's not my problem to fix. It's between them. Urb does the same thing when me and her have disagreements. He remains neutral and that’s what I’m doing."

"Now you know how stubborn your wife is, she is not going to apologize first."

"I think that the both of you need to apologize. You for keeping Yasmin from her and she does too for running the girlfriends off in the past even if her intentions behind it were good.." Jack said being completely honest.

"But why am I apologizing if I'm not sorry? I guarantee that if I would have told her about Yasmin that we wouldn’t still be together because of how she is."

"Urb, just do it so we can get fed! We're about to turn to skin and bones around here!"

"Shloob, you're just scared that she'll pop off."

"Well she has been quiet all week. Maybe she's plotting something. First Lady is never quiet. Jack, just make sure you give the eulogy at Urb's funeral."

Jack took the steps two at a time to go and check on you. It definitely made him feel some type of way seeing his wife so sad, so he was trying to do his best to take your mind off of it. But, he knew the two of you couldn’t live without each other even if both of you were acting like dumbasses and not trying to fix the issue.

He found you sitting on the bed and scrolling through your phone with your shoes near you assuming that you were getting ready to leave.

"Babe?"

"Yes?"

"Now you know I'm staying neutral because the last thing I want to do is come between you two and pick sides but the two of you really need to fix this."

"I'm doing what he asked me to do. So I'm keeping my distance."

"That's not what he meant and you know it." Jack replied while coming to sit down next to you and pull you onto his lap.

"Well that's what it sounded like to me. Because apparently I ruin everything and run people off."

"Baby girl. I get that you're in your feelings because he kept it from you. However, he has a point as to why."

"Not you too." You muttered while rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

"I wouldn't be a good husband if I wasn't honest with my wife."

"I just… from what I saw from my perspective, none of them had his best interest and obviously in my mind I don't think anyone is good enough for my best friend. What's wrong with wanting to protect him from getting his heart broken?"

"Nothing at all but sometimes people need to learn on their own. You have to allow him to make mistakes. I feel like we're talking about our kid in a way." Jack said before laughing and it made you form a small smile on your face.

“That’s why I’m keeping my distance.”

“No, you need to find a good balance. This is such a thing as caring too much and you kind of take it overboard when it comes to Urban.”

“I just…. It really hurt what he said.”

“But there wasn’t any ill intent behind it, baby girl. Urban is hurt too. Don’t you think he wanted you to be the first person he told about Yasmin?”

“I thought he would do that regardless but, I… I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.”

“Baby, just think about it from his point of view, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Now where are you off to? You need to stop avoiding us.”

“I’m not avoiding anybody. I’m about to go spend time with Meg in the studio. I wrote something for her and we want to record it.”

“Fine, but this weekend you’re spending time with us too. I invited Yasmin over to formally meet you.”

“No thanks, I’m busy.”

“Baby! Stop doing that. Will you at least try for Urban?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, fine. Try for me.”

“Maybe.”

“You didn’t say no so I’ll take it.”

You and Megan had just finished recording Budget and the two of you were just sitting around talking when the topic of Urban and Yasmin was brought up.

“Have you met her yet?”

“Nope and apparently I am this weekend because that husband of mine invited her over. I just can’t believe he literally lied to my face.”

“Well…. You kind of take it to the extreme when it comes to PG.”

“How so?”

“You are extremely protective and territorial over them. I know that they say no one gets to the first lady except through them but no one gets to the members of PG without going through the first lady. It goes both ways.”

“They’re my friends! I obviously want to protect them as much as I can!”

“Okay, you can do that without being a helicopter mom. Because that is definitely you.”

“I am not!”

“Listen to me for a second. I have heard a few of them say that certain things they don’t say in front of you because they don’t know how you’re going to react and they do keep things from you to not cause tension.”

“That makes me feel like I’m a horrible person. I want them to always be able to come to me about things and not have to hide.”

“You aren’t. You just have to allow yourself to have an open mind when it comes to things. I’m sure that they want to share a lot of things with you but they don’t because of your uhh… track record.”

“The only time I fight is if I have a good reason.”

“And I wholeheartedly believe you! However, there’s a time and place for everything so come whenever you meet her, go in there with an open mind and talk to Urban. Because even though you’re hurting, he probably is too.”

“Jack said the same thing.”

“It’ll all work out in the end, I promise. It’ll be like this entire thing never even happened.”

The weekend was now finally here and as promised for Jack and for Jack only you were playing host to Yasmin.

Everyone was sitting around the firepit in the backyard holding simple conversations and getting to know her while you had simply remained quiet.

You had a feeling that anything you said was going to piss Urban off so instead of causing tension, you decided that remaining quiet was the best option.

There you were sitting on Jack’s lap and sipping on your red wine when you suddenly heard Yasmin call out to you.

“Hmm?”

“That pasta you made was really good. How’d you learn to cook so well? Did your mom or someone else teach you?”

“My mom did.” You kept your answer simple and noticed how Urban had rolled his eyes at your response, but you ignored it.

“Is there any dish that’s your favorite to make? Or only make on special occasions?”

“I don’t really have one. Anything they ask for, I make it.”

“Yasmin, wait until you try her mini strawberry cheesecakes or her sweet potato pies. We all have a running joke that she puts crack in it to keep us wanting more.” Shloob said while everyone laughed.

“I’m definitely looking forward to it.”

“I have a question for you, too.”

“Oh shit, it’s happening.” Quiiso whispered under his breath and everyone kind of looked on with wide eyes.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“What exactly is your job? No one has mentioned it seeing as I didn’t even know you existed until three weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m a makeup artist. Still fairly new to the industry but I think the favorite person I’ve done work on is Dua Lipa. I know that the two of you are pretty close.”

“A little too close in my opinion.” Jack whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

“Hmm, how’d you meet Urban?”

“We actually ran into each other backstage at the VMA’s and then it just went from there.”

“What are your intentions? Is he your first boyfriend or no?”

“Y/N….” Urban said in a warning tone and you simply looked at him.

“Urb, you wanted me to get to know her right? And wanted for me to not ruin this seeing as you told me that I ruin every single relationship that you’ve been in so I’m doing my best.”

“Wait, what?” Yasmin curiously asked while looking between all of you and you heard Jack sigh from behind you.

“You can do your best without interrogating her, just like you did all the other ones before.” Urban replied while raising his voice.

“I’ve barely said anything to her all night! How am I supposed to get to know her if I don’t ask questions?”

“I really don’t mind answering them…” Yasmin said attempting to try and keep the peace since you and Urban were shooting daggers at each other.

“Should have known your ass was going to do this.”

“I didn’t even do anything!”

“Yet!”

“Fine, Urban, if you are so bothered by me wanting the best for you then I don’t know why we’re still friends.”

“Now wait one got damn minute. Yall are not throwing away ten years of friendship over this. It is not that serious. Can the two of you just apologize and move on?” 2fo piped up and suddenly looked nervous.

“I’m not apologizing for something that I’m not sorry for.”

Damn that stung.

“Well he told me I ruin everything concerning his relationships and that I’m a hypocrite because I mentioned one of those girlfriends having an attitude and he said mine could use some work.”

“Uhhh… well…”

“SHLOOB!”

“I mean…. That wasn’t totally a lie.”

“Are we seriously doing this right now? So everyone can list my faults but yall are perfect?”

“No one even said that and that’s what your problem is! You never listen when someone is trying to explain something to you and act like the victim!” Urban fired back at you and you could now tell that Yasmin was extremely uncomfortable.

“Will you two calm down?!” Jack exclaimed as his two best friends were going at it. As much as he didn’t want to intervene, this was getting out of hand.

“I’m not acting like a victim!

“Umm right now you kind of are.” Ace confessed and you just stared at all of them in disbelief.

“We’re your friends and we are supposed to be honest with you, no matter if it hurts. It’s better we tell you than to lie.”

“Oh, but you all did lie. In ten years, I have kept nothing from any of you and this was really a slap in my face but since I always act like the victim, I won’t say anymore about it. Yasmin, you seem really nice and I wish you and Urban the best. I have a headache so good night.”

Jack tried to pull you back as you attempted to stand up, but he wasn’t quick enough.

You made your way back into the house as it was now silent in the backyard.

“Well consider that our last meal from her probably until 2025. If she wasn’t acting distant before, she damn sure will be distant now.” Nemo said, breaking the silence.

“Jack, is this how it feels when she’s mad at you? Because I don’t really like this.” 2fo confessed.

“Somehow this feels worse.”

Just then Jack eyed Urban who was simply running a hand through his curls while Yasmin was sitting there awkwardly.

“All this shit could have been avoided if you would have told her.”

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