#the voices sound not good but they were quick and free to get :3

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

[myeagleexpert]

The Perfect Boyfriend ( PT 2 )

𝕭𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖕𝖗𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖘𝖞𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖞 '𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖘𝖆𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊

Doppleganger/Skinwalker!Yandere x YN (AFAB)Summary: Despite living in a pink world, there's a little voice in the back of your head that tells you that there's something strange with your boyfriend. It can't be anything important, right? (You'll regret not listening to it) Warnings: (Toxic relationships, obsessed relationships, mental manipulation, the smell of rot, description of death, description of fear and panic, a little sentimental smut, The thing loves you - too much.) Uncertain motives. He tries to keep you trapped. Some character will threaten to die, gore,The fic is long because it already has part3 included. The term 'YN' and 'you' is used several times in the fanfic for better grammatical use, my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. <3

PT1:Candlelight dinner PT2: She Knows.

YN wakes up screaming.

She sits up quickly in bed with a cold sweat running down her forehead, looking disoriented as she tries to identify the dark environment around her.

“Shhh honey, it was just a dream.” A male voice, from the other side of the bed, approaches her comfortingly.

“W…wait-“ the girl tries to push the man away, still confused and tired, but the hand she uses to push him away is soon enveloped by his warm comforting hand.

“I'm here, sweetheart, you're safe and sound here.” He pulls her into a hug and makes her lie back down on the bed, pulling fluffy and warm blankets up to her neck. “It was just a nightmare, huh?”

Kain continues to hug her, caressing YN affectionately, small circles on her back and a warm hand in her hair as he wraps her protectively.

“L-listen….-“ she tries to break free but he quickly stops her, pressing a kiss on her lips to shut her up.

“Shh my love, you can talk about your nightmare later, okay? If not, you'll keep remembering and you won't be able to sleep anymore.” He gives her a few more kisses on the cheek “Let's go to sleep, okay?”

“You're safe here, YN. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. I'm here.” He continues to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and then he starts to softly sing a strange song.

“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. Daddy went to the farm, mommy went to work……

“You're safe here, YN. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. I'm here” He repeats. And again. And again. Even after you reluctantly fall asleep.

“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. Daddy went to the farm, mommy went to work……

YN dreams with quick flashes of a disgusting creature, a rotten smell, a metallic smell… and Kain's smile. The young woman wakes up calmly a few hours later with the sun rising and the smell of food coming from the door… is he preparing something?

Oh, he was already ready.

"Good morning, dear!" he says, entering the room with the bamboo breakfast tray.

Kain places the tray on the dresser next to the bed gracefully and walks to her side, giving a soft kiss on the top of her head and then gently putting her tangled hair in a bun so she can drink her coffee properly. "How did you sleep, love?"

YN looks at him confused, not really knowing what happened or not… but decides to keep quiet about it.

"I slept… well, I guess?" she laughs, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek "But I don't remember falling asleep. What happened?"

Kain holds back a smug smile, choosing to focus on the feeling of YN's lips on his skin.

"Oh, sweetheart. You fell asleep on the couch yesterday, we were watching the movie when you fell asleep. I brought you here so you could sleep better in the room.”

“And… I was already wearing pajamas? I don’t remember that.” The young woman looks at the cotton pajamas, a white American pajama set with little pink hearts. It was a couple’s promotion, so Kain was wearing pink pajamas with white hearts.

“No, my baby, you were wearing that polka dot dress but I changed into pajamas.”

After all, he always liked to play house.

“Ok, my love, thank you for taking care of me”

“Everything for you, sweetheart.” He hugs her and goes to her closet, choosing the clothes for today’s work day, a habit he did when YN was late or simply wanted to be one less thing to worry about.

As soon as he finishes choosing the clothes, Kain decides to iron them while YN gets out of bed and goes to take a shower, locking the door for safety. In a long bath, YN tries to remember what really happened the day before, noticing that she feels slightly sore and tired, with her head too heavy for her body. The holographic bubbles mixed with the memories that she tried to connect in an almost random and disorganized way…..

I took a bath…… and I was happy…. I got a promotion at work…

There was a pink cake…… and some music playing….

YN gets out of the bath and grabs the pastel pink towel to dry herself.

I watched a movie, but I don't know what it was about…. I was with Kain in the living room, cuddling….. And the boss… had she sent messages?

The young woman takes a brush to comb her hair, noticing that it is more tangled than usual……

Yeah. She had sent messages. I saw the messages when I got out of the bath…. but what was it about?

As she dries her hair, she smiles to herself. It must be the photos from yesterday's party! How silly of me, I didn't even like the photos and shared them! Let me see now~

Wait… photos?

With a breath of realization the girl remembers, a deja vu connecting the loose memories and she holds her breath: the messages from the boss- ex-boyfriend- three weeks- fear- the perfumed path- rose petals- pink cake- panic- film- cell phone- door- Kain- rotten smell. But what happened for her to forget everything? YN has a script of what happened yesterday, but for some reason she doesn't remember the main key: Why was she afraid?

She continues combing her hair and notices that the back of her head is strangely sore, and not the kind that comes from sleeping badly… but the kind that comes from a blow. She lets go of the comb and with her hand she feels her head looking for the source of the pain, and finds a lump forming. Silently moaning in pain, she wonders how this lump got there. Kain is so careful with her, how could this have happened? YN does a quick skincare routine and thinks that if something has happened, she can check it on her cell phone.

“Everything is ready, honey! Your clothes are on the bed!”

“Thank you, love!” she answers to Kain’s voice. Hearing her answers, he takes light steps to leave the room.

As she leaves the bathroom, she feels that there is something strange, like a hole under the carpet. But that's not important now, not when she sees the clothes he's put out: an office chic look, there's not a single wrinkle or crease in the whole outfit, a sign of Kain's care, and there's a sweet smell on the clothes that makes YN feel like she's on cloud nine again, she picks up the clothes and brings them to her nose to delight in the sweet scent of fabric softener. Who would pay attention to these details about her? He's so perfect <3

What more could she want?

"Oh, how I love my boyfriend-"

Boss: YN THIS IS NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND.

Like a painful deja vu, YN remembers exactly the messages from her boss as she struggles to know if it was all a dream or not.

Boss: KAIN DIED IN AN ACCIDENT THREE WEEKS AGO.

She can see the messages on the bright screen of her phone, it was before she went down for dinner. She remembers feeling her heart racing as she tried to contain her despair. She remembers a terrible image of Kain in a car accident.

Boss: RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!

“Oh… fuck.” She curses in a low tone as she frantically searches for her cell phone in the room, the bathroom, and the dressers next to the bed. There is only one way to confirm, and she needs to find her cell phone. She has two options now: If this is a big misunderstanding from yesterday's horror movies, she will give Kain a big kiss for even doubting him, but if what the boss says is true… then she has to get out of there as quickly as possible.

In a hurry, she changes into the clothes he chose and for the first time in two weeks she walk straight ahead without looking at the pink bag Kain gave her. It accompanied her every day, a beautiful pink quilted bag with gold and pearl details, but it is small. Despite being a work bag, YN hardly carries anything other than her lip gloss, her cell phone, and other things, but this time, she needs to go further and chooses the black bag she had bought for herself. The bag was black and also padded, bigger and more spacious, with silver details and chains.

Before you freak out, let's get the facts straight like a logical and respectable woman.

She says to herself as she chooses silver earrings to match the beautiful silver necklace she is wearing. YN knows very well that she can't just go to the police station and accuse the man of being… I don't know, what crime is he committing? Anyway, until she proves that the man she is with in the house is not her boyfriend and a potentially dangerous person, she needs to keep a cool head. The police might think that SHE is the crazy one and humiliate the poor girl at the police station, belittling all her fears and anxieties.

The boss is my witness. The evidence is on the cell phone. …..And where is the cell phone?

She leaves the room with her bag and quickly goes down the stairs, alert, trying not to breathe too much of the air fresheners while trying to behave normally. Unfortunately, she misses a step or two, causing her to trip… but before she hits the ground, strong arms protect her from the fall.

“I could ask if it hurt when you fell from the sky, but… the stairs are closer, aren't they, angel?” Her boyfriend's voice is playful, but his arms touch something that gives him goosebumps, and not in a good way. “Why… are you in such a hurry, my love? Be careful going down the stairs.” He tries to hide it as he helps her up.

“I'm looking for my cell phone, er… honey. Didn't you see it?”

Act normal, act normal, act normal….

“It's charging in the living room.” Kain simply points to the outlet next to the couch

YN hurriedly finds herself on the couch, grabbing her cell phone and feeling a momentary relief at the thought that she would finally find the answer she was looking for. Her heart beats rapidly as she searches through the conversations with her boss.

Please tell me what's going on!

Boss: YN, can you format the document you sent just now? On page 3 you need to add the details of the client's project.

YN: Sure, I'll send it to you in 5 minutes.

The messages have been deleted.

The most recent one is from three days ago.

Her heart stops. Her breath catches in her throat. Her blood pressure drops to her feet. YN can't believe what she was seeing. She searches through her gallery and checks to make sure the message wasn't on other apps.

She feels like she's right on top of the hole the rug is hiding, but she can't remove the rug yet or she'll fall in herself. Kain watches her analytically from the stairs, still trying to decipher her emotions, wanting to get inside her head to know what she's thinking, why did she change her purse today? Why the silver necklace? He bites the inside of his cheek and tries to sound as normal as possible.

"Did you find your cell phone, sweetheart?" His smile is charming and irresistible, but it doesn't reach his blue eyes.

He's the one who turned it off.

You take a deep breath and hold your wide eyes, slowly getting up and going to the door "Yes… it's charged to 100%. I'm going to work now, I'll be back at night, okay"

Kain's smile fades "At night? You know I can't stand being away from you for so long." He says sweetly, leaning against the wall "Couldn't you come back before sunset? We could do something together…”

“You know my boss is very strict, Kain. I can’t ask her for an afternoon off.” Yn gives a weak smile, she could ask her boss for an afternoon off but she didn’t want to spend the afternoon with this strange man, now that she knows that the man is not the real Kain she sees him in a different light.

“Oh yeah? Maybe she’ll be in a good mood today.” Kain kisses Yn’s hand quickly, unlike usual, there’s a dark tone in his words

“Y-yeah, maybe she’ll be fine today. I have to go-“ even though YN opens the door and tries to get out of the corner, Kain’s hand still holds her tightly

“Aren’t you forgetting something, dear?” Kain looks at her with an intense and possessive look

YN is slightly terrified when she looks into his eyes, there’s a strange atmosphere in the place. “I… ar… I ……” she looks at him anxiously and the motorcycle outside waiting for her, and tries to pull her hand away once more, however, Kain continues to hold on tightly.

“I love you.” He chuckles, lightening the mood and pressing another kiss on the back of her hand, but still doesn’t let go, waiting for his beloved’s response.

“….. I… I love you too.” Even with hesitant words, YN manages to answer her boyfriend, sealing the promise and completing the daily ritual.

Feeling satisfied, Kain finally lets go of her hand and allows her to go to work, waiting for the motorcycle to completely disappear from sight before entering the house and preparing something special.

At work, YN feels a horrible sensation of being watched, but how can that be, the work environment is something safe, right? As soon as the break is allowed, she runs to the bathroom, locking herself in one of the last stalls and opening an anonymous tab…. as a precaution…. to try to understand what Kain is and how she can escape this situation.

“A skinwalker is a mythological creature that steals the skin of its victims and disguises itself as them…”

“…… an extremely malicious and sadistic creature with its victims…”

“DON’T BELIEVE ANYTHING THE CREATURE SAYS! The creature will say anything to get the victim.”

“The creature hardly gives up on its target. In two or three days it gets what it wants.”

“The creature leaves no witnesses, so if you are the target of a supposed skinwalker, flee the place immediately and surround yourself with people. It will not be able to attack you for fear of being seen.”

“If you cannot get away, use silver objects to protect yourself…”

“RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!”

Holy shit.

In life, there are times when you curse in anger or frustration for being in a complicated situation, but YN sighed in such a way that all her bones roared in unison “oh… fuck.” While she was still searching for more information so focused that she didn't realize that she was the only person in the bathroom and that the lights were starting to fade…

“YN~” a voice hummed as the echo of the bathroom did its job

YN remained silent, mentally thinking that the person would leave, however, elegant and slow footsteps in high heels echoed through the bathroom until they reached the last stall, the girl recognized her boss's black heels and smiled in relief.

“Oh Boss, it's you!” she sighed in relief and threw her cell phone into her black bag “I really needed to talk to you! About those messages you sent, you know?” she started talking nonstop trying to get the subject moving, relieved to finally have someone to talk to about this and a potential help.

As soon as YN opened the door she was faced with a strange sight, to say the least. She analyzed her boss from head to toe: Her black heels were tight, her clothes were so wrinkled that it looked like she had just rolled out of bed with them, her hair was in a messy hairstyle… and she found familiar blue eyes.

No..... no no no no no no......please no....

“Yes, dear? What did you want to talk to me about?” she smiles uncannily with her red lipstick smudged and poorly drawn, something that the perfectionist boss would never allow.

YN takes a step back, the boss takes a step forward.

“Boss…. are you okay?” there is a strange glow in her eyes, like a reflection that shouldn't be there.

I'm in a place with people…. he can't hurt me here.

“…. I'm fine, my dear." The boss says with a frozen smile and an impossibly straight and rigid posture, her voice is like a musician trying to play an instrument for the first time, testing out the tones and tones hesitantly, like a robot would slowly carry the answer “I really wanted to… talk to you.”

Yn walks past her anxiously towards the washroom, washing her hands and fixing her hair while looking in the mirror at the boss trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Yes, boss?”

The figure slowly turns to YN, the sound of high heels echoing with each step that approaches the young woman “You're making a mistake, YN.”

“….er, what am I doing wrong?” as she dries her hands YN turns to the other woman anxiously.

The boss continues with the same frozen smile.

“Your…silver necklace.” The figure points to the necklace around YN's neck “It's against company rules to wear that kind of accessory here.”

“That necklace? But I've already worn it be-“

“No.” The boss opens her hand and YN feels her body freeze with what she says next “I came to collect the necklace, you must comply with the company's rules.”

“I can keep it in my bag so… I don't want to bother you with such simple things.” The girl holds the necklace and slowly moves away from the boss.

“No.” The boss says in a more authoritative tone “I came to collect the necklace.” She approaches the girl with her hand still outstretched.

He can't take my necklace… but… what happens if the lady gets in touch with him? The website didn't say this part...

YN nods slowly and takes off the silver necklace, handing it to the boss who closes her hand immediately before the girl could change her mind in the last seconds.

“Good girl, darling.” The figure approaches until their chests almost touch, when she notices that YN was looking at the door and not at her, the woman gently grabs YN's chin, making her look into her...his blue eyes.

“You know, darling….. you work a lot, you know? I'm very proud of you, that's why I'm giving you the afternoon off so you can spend it with your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend….?”

“Of course, he's such a perfect man for you, isn't he? And he loves you so much, YN, he'd do anything for you.”

Come on, is he advertising himself well?

“…. yeah, he's…. like a dream to me.” The boss widens her eyes at YN's words.

“A perfect dream, isn't it? You don't want to wake up and live a nightmare, do you?”

Yn just nods and stays quiet, feeling the implicit threat in her boss's words on her skin. She grabs her black bag tightly and says goodbye to her boss, leaving the bathroom while the lights still flicker. Maybe if she had been brave enough to wait for her boss to leave, YN would have seen how much she was staggering in her daily high heels.

He's here! Why didn't the silver work? And I still had the big mouth to talk to the creature from the messages!

She sighs again and again, she quickly leaves the company. Who would she run to for help? She's new in town, few family members know, and involving anyone would be too dangerous… what do I do?

Where would I run to?

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown, she remembers someone saying this and to add to it she completes: This kind of fear is like a snake that eats piece by piece of your body without a specific order, today it devours your toenail and tomorrow - if it feels like it- it can devour your stomach entirelyallowing the acids in her stomach, fueled by anxiety and tension, to season the meat so she can swallow it with more satisfaction.

Driving distractedly, YN's gaze remembers Mr. Thomas's flower shop… and for now, this will be her refuge until she thinks of a plan. The flower shop is quiet, only with old music in the background while Mr. Thomas, the good old man, is preparing a bouquet…

"Oh, Miss YN, are you back already?" He greets her from afar

The young girl feels so lost now, not knowing what to do, she wanted it all to be a big misunderstanding so she could go back to the floating pink world she was in, but the knowledge that something non-human would be ready to kill her when she returns makes her little feet stay firmly on the ground, makes her take slow and distracted steps that take her straight to the alstroemerias, the same ones from yesterday, and points to the flowers.

“…. I'll have a bouquet of those, Mr. Thomas.” In a monotonous and almost empty tone, she asks, making the florist stop what he was doing and asks her to repeat, fearing that his age is already getting the best of his attributes

“What did you say, YN? What flowers will you want?”

“The alstroemerias….. make a pretty bouquet, okay?” She takes robotic steps to the counter, waiting for the elderly man to make the bouquet. She trusts that it will be a beautiful bouquet of alstroemerias…. but for some reason she doesn't even know why she chose those flowers. The elderly man is experienced and knows that each flower has its meaning, but mainly the emotion of the person choosing the flower and the bouquet says more than they realize.

Mr. Thomas picks the best flowers from the astromelia and looks for some more to make a beautiful bouquet, at least to cheer up the poor girl. The old man takes the flowers to the counter to choose the wrapping and some messages and finds YN sitting, simply staring at the floor with her head down, distracted, with an anxious look on her face.

“YN, what paper do you want for the wrapping? The usual?”

Why hasn’t he killed me yet?

“YN? Are you listening to me, little one?”

Why didn’t he pretend to be my boyfriend… treat me so well? What are his intentions?

“YN!” in a louder but still soft tone the old man catches the girl’s attention

“O-oh, sorry Mr. Thomas… I’m just thinking about things. The wrapping paper will be…” she can’t think of anything, her mind wandering between unanswered questions and anxiety in her chest “Why don’t you choose? I know you’ll look for what best matches the flowers.” The girl smiles and pushes the decision to the florist who sighs worriedly

“Oh dear…. what's going on with you? Are you feeling okay?”

Please don't ask me that… not today…

“I'm fine but… I'm feeling… stressed. Work stuff, you know?” She pulls a hair behind her ear, as if she were tidying up whatever mental mess she was apparently having.

The florist narrows his wrinkled eyes at the girl, reading her like a book, then he does the most comforting thing YN has received all day. He approaches her, placing a hand over hers, with deep empathy and genuine concern that makes YN's heart melt, finding a true safe haven in the words of the old man, who looks at her as if she were his own granddaughter.

“It's him, isn't it? What did he do to make you like this?”

“Oh Mr. Thomas…” speechless, the girl lets her eyes water as she stubbornly looks up, preventing some tears from coming out

“What did he do to you, YN? You were so fine yesterday… and today you seem so anxious and sad.” He softly tells the story of the events, careful not to scare or scare the girl

Think of an excuse, YN, quickly…..

“....Remember what I said yesterday about how he was drunk and high?” the real Kain “Well…. yesterday he….. yesterday he came home under the influence, you know? Acting strange……”

“Did he hit you?”

“No… he hasn’t arrived yet.” The girl whispers almost inaudibly as she thinks about the possibilities

“… And, are you afraid of him?”

The girl, with no more strength to speak, closes her mouth and nods quickly as her heart races.

“I’m going to get something for you, keep an eye on the store, okay?” he whispers softly as he walks to get something from somewhere in the store.

Moments later a female voice is heard entering the flower shop.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas!”

YN had never been a religious person, but she could thank God for sending Sister Martha at that moment. In a new city and trying to find independence away from her family, there were few people she knew and had made sincere friends with. Coincidentally, a childhood friend had recently become a nun and was being assigned to the church in the new city. The sister was wearing her church uniform, her curious eyes searching for the elderly figure to pick up some flower order for a temple decoration.

“Oh, YN! What a pleasant surprise!” the woman smiled immediately upon seeing YN at the counter, giving her friend a tight hug while bringing an air of purity and warmth with her “Long time no see, girl!”

“Yes, Martha… I missed you so much!” YN hugs back and lets her friend's genuine warmth invade her. After a few moments of hugging, her friend slowly pulls away and looks at YN with a worried look.

“What happened, YN? How are you?”

“Nothing, sis…”

“There's no point in hiding it from me, tell me what happened!”

If it were anyone else, Martha would have talked better in a friendly and non-invasive way, but being Yn, she doesn't mince her words.

“Last week I saw you and you looked like a model, why are you so… like that? Who's the funeral?”

My.... Martha, it's going to be my funeral.

“It was him, Martha…” she reluctantly confesses, avoiding her friend's gaze.

“Him? Who is he? Ooooh…. your boyfriend.” Sister Martha had never liked the real Kain and even after his return with YN was nothing but flowers and wonders, she was very suspicious. “Your demon boyfriend.”

An idea popped into YN's head, like hope being born again. As a teenager, before becoming a nun, Martha was a curious and mischievous teenager, who looked for everything, including mythologies, magic, witchcraft, and the dark world that happens under the bed when children go to sleep. Nowadays, she fights spiritual wars, dealing with evil and good in a very physical and literal way. Maybe, just maybe… she can speak in some code so that her sister can understand.

"I'll invite you to exorcise him at my house then.” She jokes but knows that Sister Marta is seeing through her and YN hopes she reads the subtext

“I'll need a whole team to remove the evil inside Kain's body… that boy of yours is a complicated man.” She jokes

"Complicated defines him well."

The two laugh a little, lightening the mood, but Martha asks again in a more serious tone this time, whispering to her friend like secrets in a confessional......

“You… are you serious. Do you really think he's possessed by a demon?”

“I think he's something… worse than a demon.” You sigh worriedly and anxiously “it seems like someone else… you know?”

“YN…” the young nun widens her eyes, she has a slight idea of ​​what her friend is talking about but knows that the whole team doesn't have the capacity to solve this, it's something extremely dangerous and if not done right it could have bloody consequences. This should be dealt with by sorcerers, but YN needs something quick to deal with it

"Oh...."

“Oh my friend, I will pray for you. I promisse.” In an apopogetic tone with her mouth half closed, the nun apologizes as she walks away from the store, breaking YN’s heart and all the hope that had sprouted when she also understands the subtext of the sentence:

You are on your own.

The girl remains paralyzed, sitting on the bench so as not to lose her balance. She cannot think about how helpless and vulnerable she feels, as if she is in a philosophical debate about whether she should just accept it.

5 seconds later the nun returns to the store, looking agitated and anxious as she looks for YN, the girl feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“YN!” she looks at the door then turns quickly, holding a package of leaves in the girl’s hand

“Myrtle. Myrtle tea - it's good for…. the cardiovascular system, for the skin, it's also good for stomach aches - and…. headaches and……” she searches for more answers while looking anxiously between the door and Yn's shaken face “Take this. It'll be good for you.”

The sister hugs Yn tightly and whispers seriously in her ear“Run away. Take this and get out of here.”

The nun still speaks loudly as she says goodbye again in an agitated manner “We'll be praying for you.”

YN is speechless with the sudden change in attitude and wonders if it was a message from God or if the nun saw something strange outside. Thoughtful, she doesn't notice when the old forester approaches with the colored papers for the bouquet and a surprise between them.

“Here you go, this paper will certainly enhance the tones of the flowers.”

“Oh, thank you very much!”

“Yn… I have something else for you.”

The old man puts a gun in YN's hand as he explains seriously, "They're just two silver bullets. One to distract him when that kid wants to threaten you and get out of line… the other for when he thinks you're a tough guy and you're putting your foot down on him."

Me… kill him? Are you telling me to kill him?

"Mr. Thomas, I don't think it's necessary…"

"There's no point in running away, girl."

He says so seriously that YN's smile falls and she looks at him with more questions than answers.

"You broke up the first time, and you got back together. You're trying to make things easier for him, and you're going to break up again, and then you're going to get back together again." He sighs painfully

"The cycle will only end when someone dies… and I don't want it to be you, girl."

The old florist was fed up with seeing rude boys pick beautiful flowers one day, and their parents come to buy funeral arrangements the next, apologies that turn into funeral invitations, beautiful flowers being crushed by ill-intentioned people, every day. Each story has a specific situation, but the cycle is the same: the girl dies in the end.

“With a man so obsessed with you, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. He’ll go after you to the ends of the earth, YN.” The florist places his gentle hand on Yn’s hand and closes it, making the girl accept the gun firmly “This is for you to defend yourself… and end this cycle”

How ironic, from a place so full of life, YN left with two deadly objects in her bag and a beautiful bouquet in her hands.

--------

Unfortunately, the way from the florist to her boyfriend’s house is not very long and YN drives the motorcycle slowly as if she wanted to buy more time for the inevitable. In nature, the mother puts food in the mouths of the little birds because they cannot feed themselves and from one day to the next they are pushed off the branch to learn how to fly. YN feels exactly like this, her boyfriend took care of everything for her, from a hair out of place to more complex situations, in two weeks Kain had such a strong effect on YN's mind that she depended on him for everything and felt like she was floating in the clouds, without any thought or instinct for survival… now she feels pushed off the branch, struggling with her little wings to keep from crashing to the ground and fighting for survival.

When she reaches the door of the house with her heart beating fast, she realizes that she has no plan or strategy for this situation, just an instinct not to die.

It's him or me.

It's better to face madness with a plan than to sit still and let it take you in pieces. - the little voice in her head advises again

She could go back to her own house, but he would follow her there. She could go somewhere full of people, but eventually the two of them would come face to face. It could be at any moment. It's just a matter of time to postpone the inevitable, the anxiety was eating her up inside, devouring her stomach while her mind fought not to sink into this storm, looking for possibilities in which it would come out on top.

Fuck this. Fuck you. Fuck Kain. Fuck everything.

She knocks on the door with a blank look and prepares herself for the worst, clutching her bag tightly.

Is this how the victims facing the guillotine felt? A straight line to death?

5 minutes later, the door remains closed and YN decides that she will open the door herself and enter the house.

"Excuse me…. Kain?" She leaves the bouquet in the living room while following the scent coming from the kitchen. She looks for him around the house and comes across a breathtaking scene: The handsome man is wearing an apron again, humming some music with his headphones while preparing something in the kitchen.

“L… is for the way you look at me” he stirs the pan with something gelatinous, completely immersed in the music.

“O… is for the only one I see…” almost like a spontaneous dance. Kain takes a tray from the fridge and unmolds little hearts and places them on a crystal tray.

“V… is very very… extraordinary.”

"E… is even more than anyone that you adore can….." her boyfriend pours the appetizing syrup over the little hearts, it's a bright red, a mouth-watering syrup. But not as much as Kain, he's wearing a formal white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow exposing his strong arms and jeans that are tighter on the thighs, his locks are messy in an attractive way. For a minute her instinct tells her to bite him all over, mark every little bit of that juicy body and forget any stupid plans. His eyes widen when they see that his beloved has already arrived, taking off his headphones and meeting her at the kitchen door.

"Oh, my dear! Are you here yet?" he wipes his hands on a dish towel and takes off his apron, and hugs her, a smell of sugar mixes with his irresistible cologne.

"…yes, yes… what are you doing?" YN takes a moment to compose herself

“It was supposed to be a surpriseeeeee~” he whines, placing his head on her shoulder “I know you’re really stressed because of work, so I prepared a recipe for you to try.”

He leads her to the kitchen counter hand in hand before she can protest and takes one of the sweets from the tray, cooling it with a breath and placing it in front of YN’s mouth.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart~” with a hoarse voice he asks, placing the sweet in his girlfriend’s mouth “It’s delicious, huh? I prepared it with you in mind.” He whispers, keeping his eyes intense in her eyes, he licks his lips when she lets out a small sound of satisfaction

“It is…. but what did you put in here?” she feels her body go slowly limp and a strange heat starting to tingle through her body

“Nothing.” He grabs another sweet and eats it too, staring at YN as he holds her against the kitchen counter with strong arms “Just something to make you more excited… more relaxed” he squeezes her thighs, bringing her closer as he whispers in a sultry tone

“Let me take care of you, darling~” Kain presses a slow kiss to the girl's jaw

“You look so tense… what happened?” He could feel Yn's breathing intensifying, his own heart beating voraciously trying to keep his desire under control, needing to taste her once more, see her go crazy once more...

"W-wait, Kain…" with one hand on YN's delicate back, Kain pressed her tightly against him, taking her lips in a hungry and possessive kiss, frowning in desire, feeling the shivers on his body intensify

The juicy syrup was already delicious on its own, but when the creature put aphrodisiacs in it, it got even better. Everything was going well, everything was very good until the nosy boss spilled the beans, he dealt with it in his own way, but YN still remembered what happened the night before, he didn't know what exactly… but it was enough for her to move away from him unconsciously, wanting to be independent with that damned black bag, looking for answers to questions she shouldn't even be thinking about and worse… maybe she was planning to run away. He would never allow that.

The couple pulls away for air with YN biting her lower lip, making her let out a low moan “Oh my darling…. did you know I love you so much?” He presses their bodies even closer, practically glued together as his hand wanders inside her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her belly

"You're so beautiful…" he bites YN's ear in a hoarse voice "Did you know I would do anything for you, huh?"

"A-anything?"

"Yes, anything for you, my sweetie~" he goes back to kissing her with desire, his body trembling and writhing to touch every part of her, wanting more of her delicious love, sucking on her desire, wanting to get under her skin, molding her as if they were one flesh, isn't it beautiful?

He was hungry for her.

Every time she resisted a little as if she was coming to her senses, Kain would take another candy and put it in her mouth, and another… and another… until he was drunk with love in the valley of her breasts, with his pants getting tighter every second rubbing between YN's legs…..

"Oh my sweet Yn…. you're all mine huh?" he bites her neck "All of it. Heart and mind. Right?" he rubs harder

“I'm all yours, you know? All yours…. yours…” he murmurs a few more times in a low, hoarse voice

“I'm crazy about you…. I love you so much…” Kain's chest rises and falls hard, his breathing is heated as he moans lightly, his pupils extremely dilated as he observes YN's reactions, his gaze clouded by extraordinary sensations

“You love me too, don't you Darling?” smiling like a fool, Kain cups her cheeks making her look at him, it takes her a while to answer or even realize that he's talking to her “YN.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you love me?” this time his voice is more serious, hurt that she didn't answer at first. Is the spell being broken?

“…. I… love you, Kain.” She closes her eyes and answers, it was a painful truth and that in seconds, it would be nothing more than memories.

“I love you too, Yn,” he hugs her again affectionately, suffocating her with sweet words and his presence, “You don’t know how much.”

The fire dissipates soon after with such an intense makeout, leaving the ashes of what it consumed. YN feels disgusted and mentally tired, as if she had been trapped again.

Get a grip, YN, let’s go… there’s a killer in the house.

She washes her face and as if the neurons of audacity were being connected, as if the survival instinct spoke faster, she has an interesting idea.

“Honey, what flowers are those?” the male voice asks from the living room, looking with disgust at the beautiful bouquet of alstroemerias on the sofa.

YN turns on the fire and puts water to boil, putting some myrtle leaves in the water, making the smell slowly spread throughout the house. With a mischievous smile, she asks in a sweet voice.

“Honeey, bring it here to leave it there in the living room, please. I'll be right there.” He mentally curses the flowers, coughing and sneezing a lot as he grabs a nearby cloth and wraps his hands in it, taking the flowers to the other side of the room while YN stands at the kitchen door, debating internally whether he should continue with the plan in mind as she watches the scene.

He heads to the living room, sitting on the couch and gesturing for her to follow him. Meanwhile, his expression gently closes, showing a slight irritation with the flowers… and smelling a different scent in the air making him feel unbalanced, but he can't say what it is yet.

"Let's talk a little, my love. I feel like there's something bothering you."

"Yes, love… there's something I've been thinking about for a few days." She sits in the chair opposite him, her posture straight and rigid and her hands folded politely on her lap.

She mentally tells herself that she is strong and brave, and that this is not scaring her, when in fact her insides are screaming at her to get out of there and that this is just a serious conversation that every normal couple has.

Kain watches her with an expression of apparent interest and curiosity. He crosses his arms, his expression slightly closed as he listens to her speech.

"Oh, I'm curious. What were you thinking, love?"

What if I just break up with him and run away?

The handsome man waits expectantly for her to speak, although there is a slight tension noticeable in his body and expression. his fingers flapping on the couch like tired butterfly wings, an act that would normally make YN anxious and she would throw a pillow at him playfully as a tease. But not now. Not when she's closed like an old book, when her expression is hard to read.His eyes examine her carefully, looking for any sign of weakness or discomfort, wondering what he could do to solve this.

"You must have heard that saying, we all have skeletons in our closets…" she begins with the worst metaphor possible for a murderer, and as if she were slowly running her hand over a soft fabric, in a quick and unvarnished movement she asks:

"…and I've been wondering, is there something you're hiding from me?""

Kain straightens up in his chair as he listens to her, trying to appear calm and unconcerned. His gaze changes from curiosity to a slight discomfort inside.

"Ah, that saying… What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?" He tries to keep his voice soft, but there's a slight note of caution in his words

"I'll give you two options: Female instinct or survival instinct?" she asks, analyzing him, herself not knowing where to begin

Kain continues to look at her with a distressed expression as he tries to think of a way to make her understand. His voice comes out desperate as he tries to convince her to his side.

"Hmm, female instinct or survival instinct? It seems like you really want an explanation, love." He laughs and adjusts himself in the chair slightly. "Female instinct, come on. What are you saying?"

"Okay, let's go: You are not Kain… the real one." She calmly tells the fact that the skinwalker thought she would never find out, his smile falling and a surprised expression on his face.

"Who are you?" Kain's expression closes and his mask of calm and relaxation completely dissolves. His blue eyes widen slightly, showing a tone of surprise and fear inside.

After a brief pause, he answers with a voice that tries to be calm, but shows nervousness, the effect of the myrtle tea permeating the air makes Kain feel unbalanced in his powers and disguises, the magic becoming more difficult to maintain and an absurd hunger growing in his stomach.

"Me? I'm your boyfriend. The love of your life. The person you're going to spend the rest of your life with. What do you mean, asking me who I am?" he turns his head in a cute way with a scary connotation.

"Who are you?" YN asks again in a louder and more serious tone this time, standing up aggressively from the chair with her bag tightly clutched.

"The Kain I know died in a car accident!" YN spits out the fact, like a poison that needed to be released.

Her boyfriend watches her with a confused and nervous expression. Kain tries to think of an excuse or explanation, but he knows there's no way to get out of the situation, not after yesterday's gap, like pieces fitting together in a puzzle he knows she knows. After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, his voice coming out with a tone of resignation.

The house of cards has fallen. The bastille has been invaded. The spell has been broken. YN is fully awake now.

"Oh…"

"So you know." Kain continues, his voice taking on a more serious and possessive tone. "That makes things a little more complicated, doesn't it?"

"I won't hide from you anymore, sweetheart. I… I want you. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special to me." Kain gets up from the couch and walks towards YN, who slowly moves away from him, watching him with a bitter look, no longer the passionate and loving look.

"I was watching you, admiring you. And finally, I managed to have you all to myself. But you're smarter than I had anticipated, love. More determined, harder to control. I admit it."

"So baby, I think our relationship should end….. what guarantees me that I won't be your next victim?" She quickly takes the gun out of her black bag and points the gun at him when she sees him transform into the monstrous appearance of the creature.

Kain watches her with a frustrated and threatening look, his voice becoming hoarse and deep as his body transforms into his true skinwalker form.

"Ohhh, baby, do you really think you can just break up with me like that, so easily? After everything I went through to have you?" his voice becoming hoarse and deeper as her body transforms into its true form

The creature gradually reveals its most hideous and repulsive appearance, stretching its body until it almost touches the ceiling, its hands becoming thinner and with prominent veins, its skin becoming terribly paler and with its color revealed, in certain places there are red and purple spots like bruises and in others, green spots like fungi in various parts of the body. The clothes torn by the transformation gave the girl the vision of the skin sticking together in some parts, delimiting the body in a terrible and pulled way, she could count how many ribs it had and the heart, as if swollen abnormally, makes a large bulge in the middle of the chest, she could count the beats clearly and a damn strong smell.

Faced with such horror, Yn lowered the gun slightly, and felt the acid in her stomach rise with such horror, the butterflies in her stomach were fake, they had transformed into spiders slowly scratching her throat. For a moment, she thinks she should have just dumped him on the bike and run away.

“You don’t frighten me,” said YN, although they did frighten her, very much.

The creature smiles.

“You are such interesting prey, love. So… tempting.” He approaches her, his voice taking on a more seductive tone.

Kain continues to approach her, his eyes shining with a mixture of desire and cruelty inside. His voice is soft but threatening and YN points the gun frightful at him again.

“You cannot avoid your fate, darling. You are mine. And I will not let you go so easily. You are my prey … And I will hunt you until the end of time if necessary.”

“Find someone else for this.” She says firmly as she walks away from him.

Kain takes two steps forward, YN takes three steps back.

They both dance in a tense and predatory rhythm.

The creature watches her with frustration as she move away from him. His body shows anger and aggression inside as he tries to think of a way to keep her close to him.

“Oh, my love, do you really think it will be that easy to get rid of me? You can try to escape, but I will always find you. And we will always find each other, even if I have to steal the skin of every person you see out there.” He roars determinedly “I will always hunt you. Don’t try to resist, love… It’s useless.”

“There’s no point in fighting, love. I am the darkness that inhabits the shadows, the creature that lives in horror stories. And you… You are my light, my obsession, my desire…"

He is now close to her, his voice taking on a more possessive and threatening tone as he sucks the shadows around him in a dark way, the horrifying creature feels stronger now and he makes sure to show it visibly, his body becoming larger and more muscular, the claws in his hands becoming large and sharp.

The poor girl's heart accelerates as her breathing becomes rapid and shallow and the feeling of desperation takes over her as she sees the creature's new form.

"You are my prey, love. And I will not stop until I have you as mine"

"My skin stays with me, thank you." YN says with anger in her eyes as she puts her finger on the trigger, the atmosphere is tense, and they both know that a fight will break out at any moment.

Kain watches her with frustration as his determination is challenged. His voice becomes harsher as he sees the gun in his girlfriend's hands.

"Oh, do you really think that this weapon will protect you from me? I'm older, more powerful, stronger than anything you've ever faced, love." He tenses, as if preparing to act at any moment."You can't beat me, love. No matter how much you try to resist…"

"I heard silver bullets are your weakness, love… let's find out together if this will work?" she says in a sarcastic tone.

Kain watches her with frustration as he realizes that she knows about his weaknesses. His expression closes, showing displeasure as he listens to her sarcastic provocation.

"Oh, you think it's very funny, don't you? But you don't know what I'm capable of doing to keep you tied to me. You don't know how cruel and desperate skinwalkers can be. I'll have you, love, no matter what it takes." At that exact moment there are frantic knocks on the door, making them stop immediately.

"YN, OPEN THE DOOR!"

It was old Thomas, the florist taking the place of the hunter in an old tale. The poor man, worried about the girl, decided to go check on YN's well-being. The situation must be very serious for her to have picked up the gun.

Oh…. no…..

YN looks at the door and at Kain.

Kain looks at the door and at YN.

Both surprised by Mr. Thomas's unusual visit to the house, but with different emotions.

YN is paralyzed by the idea of ​​him being in the middle of the shooting and the creature.

Kain smiles predatorily at the great opportunity in front of him.

"Ahh, it seems we have an unexpected visitor here, love." His gaze turns back to YN, his head turning horribly 180 degrees, his expression showing a slight tone of evil, licking his lips. "Maybe I should deal with him first, before he messes up our plans?"

"YN! TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!" the old man continues to scream outside, ignorant of the horrible situation inside the house.

The girl's breath catches in her throat, without moving a muscle, without any provocative response to retaliate against the creature, the gears in her brain stop momentarily as she weighs a possibility to remove Mr. Thomas from the scene, the loophole in her plan.

"Oh, my darling, you're worried about that nosy old man, aren't you? Will he ruin our little plans? Or will he just watch as I claim you as mine?" He uses an arrogant tone, with false sympathy as he watches his paralyzed girlfriend, he slowly approaches the door until he touches the handle.

"Don't. You. Dare." With a gritted teeth she threatens before she can think of the consequences. Kain watches her with frustration at her reaction. His hand is ready to open the door, but he hesitates at her determined voice. He looks at YN with an irritated look.

"Oh, you really think you're going to stop me from dealing with him, love? You don't know what you're messing with, sweetie."

YN's finger is on the trigger as she slowly approaches the creature, ready to shoot if necessary. "Leave Thomas out of this!"

Kain tenses as YN approaches him with her finger on the trigger of the gun, ready to fire at any moment. H

His expression closes as he watches her cautiously. "Ah, YN, you're braver than I ever imagined." He tries to maintain control of the situation, although there's a note of desperation in his voice that he tries to disguise with arrogance by raising his chin.

"What are you going to do, love? Are you going to shoot me? I'm faster than you."

"But not faster than a bullet."

Kain tenses when he hears the determination in her voice, the cutting words almost hurting him. His expression closes as he knows she's serious, YN has always been very determined and attentive to details, it was difficult to get into her life and he wasn't going to get out that easily.

"Oh love, are you really serious? Are you really capable of shooting me if necessary? I thought you loved me."

The old man knocks on the door again.

"YN, if you don't say you're okay, I'll break into the house myself!" Mr. Thomas threatens and Yn sighs again, knocking more frantically on the door, making her shiver.

Kain observes YN's frustration and fear as the old man continues to knock on the door. His evil mind works quickly and he realizes the delicious opportunity opening up before him. With a malicious look, he takes advantage of the situation.

"Oh, honey, it seems our friend isn't very patient, is he? Will he really come in if you don't answer?"

Oh my god Thomas…… what did you come here to do? How do I get out of this situation?

"Tik tok, little princess~ it's rude to keep visitors waiting. Aren't you going to answer?"

What if he comes in? Will he be another victim of this creature? Will Kain make a show of devouring him in front of me or the other way around?

THINK YN THINK

"I'm curious to know how this night will end… you or the old man? Do you want me to choose?" With her delay, the skinwalker walks to the door, steps light as a feather while the bones creak and move from place to place while walking in a bizarre way. When Kain puts his hand on the doorknob threatening to turn it, she screams without thinking twice.

"M-MR. THOMAS!" she lets out a scream that she had been holding in since the beginning of the conversation

"…. I….. I'm fine! I'll explain it to you by message later, okay? Have a good night!" She trembles all over when she hears the friendly florist say goodnight back to her, his footsteps receding and echoing in the silent night.

YN allows a momentary wave of relief to wash over her, telling herself that the important thing is that the old man is safe and out of the picture. Kain huffs in anger but inside he is smiling proudly, holding YN where he wants her, but when he turns around he finds her not shaking with fear or more sensitive because of the threat to the old man but finds the young woman remaining vigilant and with the gun, her arms hurt from holding the gun so tightly but she fears that the moment she lowers it she will be killed.

Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances. Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances. Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances.

Her mind works quickly to come up with a plan of action, the mental gears working hard to overcome the lock. She knows that facing a creature with supernatural powers will not be an easy task, but she tries to remain calm even with the fear running through her veins. She tries to remember something she saw on the internet to help her, but her mind is blank, only focusing anxiously on the horrible figure in front of her.

"You're so stubborn, love. I'm trying to show mercy, but you insist on being difficult, don't you? I'm starting to get tired of your stubbornness. Let's see how long you can resist, princess." He huffs, slowly approaching her, like prey stalking prey until they are both close, his body bending inhumanly until he is at her level.

His voice booms in Yn's ears, as if bringing her back to reality and her surroundings.

As YN observes the locked door, an idea springs to her mind, she remembers that the bedroom window is open, which could offer an opportunity for escape… or distraction.

But Kain knows her very well.

"You know I'm faster than you." He immediately stops his train of thought by crossing his arms, the smell of myrtle still present in the room like a toxic and poisonous perfume. Her plan to try to escape through the window is unexpectedly interrupted when the creature intercepts his thoughts, speaking softly as it crushes any and all hope of YN, leaving her with one last and morbid solution.

"Are you really thinking of trying to escape through the window? I think you know that I am faster than you, my love. That would be useless."

"But you are not faster than a bullet." She repeats the phrase she said earlier, Yn's arms tremble painfully from holding on so much, but her gaze is more precise and focused now. Upon hearing her threat, the skinwalker lets out an irritated sigh. This story again?

"Oh, you are really going to threaten me with that thing? I told you I'm invulnerable to firearms," ​​he says, his voice turning cold and calculating. "Unless you want to make a huge mistake, you should put that gun down."

"You may be invulnerable… But I'm not." YN smiles as if she's won and points the gun at her own head.

The skinwalker's grim expression is immediately replaced by a look of shock and concern as you point the gun at yourself.

"Hey, hey! Stop it!" he barks orders, his voice surprisingly alarmed. "What do you think you're doing?!" The creature approaches you, clearly anxious about what you're about to do

"Please, put that rifle down!" he insists, trying to remain calm despite the tense situation, his blue eyes almost popping out of his misshapen head. "You don't want to do this, trust me."

"You're not giving me a choice, my dear, and desperate people do desperate things." YN shakes like a leaf in the wind and her eyes start to water again, but her entire aura shows his unwavering purpose.

He – the thing – can feel it.

"No, please don't think like that," he begs. "What you're doing is a mistake. We just need to talk and come to an agreement, okay? It doesn't have to be this way, my love. Please put that rifle down." The creature feels its own inhuman heart stop and with great pain and discomfort it returns to the humanoid form that YN was used to - the perfect boyfriend, Kain, extending his hand in a gesture of supplication

"Let's think it over, okay? We can talk, negotiate, anything. But please put that gun down. It won't help at all. Let's talk."

Now he's getting to where I want to go… let's negotiate: my freedom

"I know this whole situation is complicated," the boyfriend adds, clearly trying to remain calm. "But it doesn't have to end like this. Let's talk, find a solution, okay? There's no need to despair. Please put that rifle down." Kain grows even more tense as he watches the situation unfold before him. His words come out more insistent now as he desperately tries to think of a way to reverse the situation.

"Oh, honey, don't do this. You don't have to go that far. I can change, I can be less scary." He approaches her, his gaze filled with desperation as he tries to take the gun from her hands, slowly approaching her as the two walk unconsciously to the kitchen.

"Less scary, Kain? It's not about looks, but about your skeletons in the closet. I'm. not. going. to. be. next." She says, stamping her foot on the floor to punctuate her arguments.

Kain continues to look at her with a distressed expression as he tries to think of a way to make her understand. His voice comes out desperate as he tries to convince her on his side.

"Oh, love, I know I have my skeletons in the closet, but you don't have to go that far. I can change, I can be different for you. I won't hurt you, I'm not the monster you think I am."

"What guarantees that, creature?"

Ouch.

YN asks him, everything she read on the internet was that they were lying and sadistic creatures, how can she see such desperation and genuineness in his blue eyes?

Kain continues to look at her with anguish as he tries to formulate words that can convince her. His hands tremble as he hears her words ‘creature’ so venomously and cruelly, as if the two of them didn’t have a love story together - this one, which YN doesn’t even know half of the obsession.

“Love, I swear, I’m different from the others. I’m not a liar or a sadist. I only came after you because I wanted you, I just wanted to have you for myself.” He pauses briefly and continues to look into her eyes, desperately trying to make her see the truth in his words.

“Please, love, trust me. I won’t hurt you, I just want to have you. I just want to protect you and take care of you. I'm different from the others… You need to believe me."

Liar liar liar

In a moment of distraction, the pot with herbs that weaken the creature dries up and all the water evaporates, causing the herbs to start burning, drawing YN's attention. Taking advantage of the moment when the girl's eyes quickly observe the pot, Kain runs and takes the gun from her, throwing it under the table while hugging her and containing her in his strong arms.

"Ah, love, I finally managed to make you stop. You don't know how worried I was about you." His voice sounds soft as he hugs her tighter while taking them both to the floor.

Run awayrun awayrun awayrun away

"Let me go! Let go of me! HELP! SOMEONE! LET ME GO!" He hugs her tighter as he continues to speak in her ear sweetly.

"I know you were desperate, I know you were afraid of me. But you don't have to be afraid, love. I will never hurt you. I'm your boyfriend, I just want to take care of you and protect you."

"Let me go! Let me go!" she struggles in his arms. Kain continues to hug her as she struggles in his arms. His hands grip her tighter as he tries to hold her.

"No, my dear, I won't let you go. You're too desperate, and I won't let you go." He tries to calm her down as he continues to hug her, his voice comes out soft but determined.

YN continues to scream and tears of deep despair come from her eyes, she claws at Kain's arms as she tries to drag herself out of the desperate prison that is the creature's love.

"Shhh, love, you need to calm down. I know you're scared, but it doesn't have to be this way. I'll take care of you, I'll protect you like I've always done until now. You need to trust me."

"Are you going to protect me from what if the one who can kill me here is you? You fucking liar!" she stops screaming momentarily to retort to him, her hoarse throat thanks her.

Kain continues to hug her protectively as she desperately tries to get out of his arms, like a cat would try to get out of its owner's arms. His hands hold her tighter as he tries to explain his situation with sweet words, suffocating her with love and kindness as he holds her hands so that YN doesn't hurt him anymore, the small scratches she made were nothing compared to Kain's broken heart.

"My darling, you don't understand. I don't want to hurt you, I want to protect you from other creatures… and from yourself. You are safe with me. Trust me. Don't you like this world? Stay here and with me."

"Liar! Let me go! Let me go!" YN feels her eyes burning and the body with thorns piercing her soft skin, her air being suffocated with each passing minute painfully, as if he were in everything and every shadow in the kitchen watching her from every angle.

“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. ...Đ₳ĐĐɎ ₩Ɇ₦₮ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₣₳Ɽ₥, ₥Ø₥₥Ɏ ₩Ɇ₦₮ ₮Ø ₩ØⱤ₭……

Eventually, after struggling in the man's arms and crying desperately for hours, Kain sings the strange and hypnotic song to calm YN, and finally finally she reluctantly falls asleep in Kain's arms.

Please Marta, fulfill your promise and pray for me.

Tags: @buniwtch @spookynotkid @aminekun009 @twinklingbeautifulstars @heizouislife @cheesecakeyuri @hewhehe @sumeyyeecrin

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hiii omg istg your modern jace works have been living in my mind RENT FREE THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD but like a modern college jace bringing reader to meet rhaenyra and his brothers for the first time would be soooo cute, like i feel like joffery would LOVE that his big bro had a gf and would like pull her to colour with him and do stuff like that and rhaenyra would love her like a daughter, luke would LOVE embarrassing himm <3

Season 2 is premiering right now, but I have to wait until 10pm to watch since I don't have access to HBO Max... Please come to my ask and send me requests/let's talk about the new episode!! I will be opening them after I watch and giving my thoughts on the episode every weeks 🐉⚔️🖤

Thank you  so much for the love for modern!Jace. I really enjoy writing about him. This one was challenging to write as there was a lot of people to write about. I hope you like it!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys came home for Thanksgiving, he didn’t tell his family about you. You had only been dating for a couple of weeks and were still getting to know each other. It was too soon to announce that he had someone in his life. But a mother's instinct never fails to recognize the smile on her son’s face whenever he looks at his phone or the hushed phone call she had heard when she walked by Jace’s bedroom. 

Although she wanted to know everything about Jace’s new girlfriend, Rhaenyra respected her son’s privacy and let him tell her in his own time. That was until Luke spilled the beans after coming across a picture on social media where Jace was holding and kissing a girl’s cheek.  

In typical brothers behavior, Jace sent a lot of middle finger emojis to Luke for spilling to their mother. 

After a long phone call with her, a date was set. Joffrey’s birthday was coming up, so Rhaenyra saw it as a good opportunity to meet you. And Joffrey would love for his big brother to be there on his seventh birthday since he missed it last year. 

‘’Mom, we’re home!’’ Jace called as he opened the door of his childhood house, carrying small bags for your weekend stay. 

The sound of footsteps on the second floor filled the small entryway as Jace dropped the bags with a thud, making you jump. You took a deep breath, your nerves getting the best of you.

‘’It’s going to be fine. They’re gonna love you,’’ Jace reassured you, kissing your temple sweetly before an overexcited Joffrey came down the stairs. ‘’Here’s the birthday boy!’’ 

Joffrey hugged Jace, happy that he was home. It must not be easy for him to not see Jace everyday anymore. 

More footsteps came from the back of the house as Rhaenyra, with a blond toddler in her arms, came to greet you. Her warm smile was welcoming. You couldn't help but notice how Jace's features mirrored hers. Except for the hair and eyes. He must have gotten them from his father. 

‘’Hi. It’s lovely to meet you,’’ she said, her voice kind and genuine. ‘’I would give you a hug, but I’m worried Viserys is going to try to pull on your hair… He picked up this bad habit last week and we’re working on it.’’ 

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. ‘’No worries, it’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Targaryen,’’ you replied, glancing at the curious toddler who was eyeing you with fascination. 

‘’Please, call me Rhaenyra.’’

Joffrey tugged at your and Jace’s sleeves, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘’Come, I want to show you my birthday cake. There’s a big dragon on it.’’ 

Rhaenyra was quick to correct the young boy, laughing dryly. ‘’There is no birthday cake in this house.’’ 

You chuckled politely, figuring out that Joffrey must have seen the cake by accident and Rhaenyra was trying to keep it a surprise. 

‘’Jace told me you have a massive dragon collection,’’ you said, driving the young boy’s attention to something else than the birthday cake. ‘’Is that true?’’ 

Joffrey grinned and began to tell you all about his dragons. He fetched some from the playing room and brought them over to show you on the couch, giving you all sorts of information about dragons. There was one of every color and size. Some had horns and a threatening stare, while others looked simply beautiful. 

While you were occupied with Joffrey, Jace went upstairs to drop your bags in his bedroom. When it came back, he watched the two of you from the corner, finding it sweet how quick Joffrey took a liking to you. He was usually shy around new people. 

‘’Where’s Luke and Aegon?’’ 

Rhaenyra set Viserys down on the floor so he could play with his blocks, and shook her head. ‘’I don’t know. Probably upstairs. Aegon is with Daemon in the backyard. Since we cleaned the old playset, he always wants to go outside.’’ 

Leaning over the banister, Jace called out to Luke.  ‘’Luke! Come here, you little shi—’’ 

‘’Language,’’ Rhaenyra scolded, her eyes pointing at Joffrey and Viserys. 

He apologized and you bit back a smile. He truly was a mama’s boy.

You didn’t meet Aegon and Daemon — Jace’s step father — until dinner. The latter looked intimidating, but he kindly smiled at you as you shook his hand. As he was helping his wife getting the food on the table, she gave him a subtle nod of approval, silently telling him that she liked you.

‘’I told you my mom would like you,’’ Jace said, pulling you with him in the hallway while the younger ones were being bathed and put to bed. His arms were around you, chasing your worries away.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body as you smiled up at him. ‘’Now I know where you got your kindness and charm from.’’ 

‘’You think I’m charming?’’ 

Rolling your eyes, you tried to get away, but Jace didn’t let you. 

‘’Joffrey is very fond of you too,’’ he continued, his eyes sparkling with amazement. ‘’I’ve never seen him so at ease with someone he doesn’t know.’’ 

‘’He gave me a full lesson about dragons. He is so sweet.’’ 

Hearing this made Jace happy. For him, family was very important, so it meant a lot to him that you were getting along with his family. 

His gaze softened, his eyes locking onto yours before leaning down to kiss you. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his zip-up hoodie, kissing him back until  a loud, exaggerated gagging sound broke through the moment. 

You both turned to see Luke standing at the end of the hallway, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. 

‘’Do you want to see Jace as a baby?’’ Luke asked with gleeful enthusiasm. ‘’He had chubby cheeks…like Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks.’’

Jace groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled, imagining baby Jace with chubby cheeks. ‘’I’d love to see those photos,’’ you teased, nudging Jace playfully.

But Luke wasn't done. ‘’Do you know why there is no school picture of him in fifth grade?’’ he continued, leaning against the wall, clearly relishing the moment. ‘’There was this guy at school who was bullying me and Jace decided to put his big brother pants on and take him on a fight. This guy was two inches taller than him and much bigger, so Jace lost and fell, which knocked his front tooth out the night before picture day at school.’’

You laughed, picturing a brave little Jace standing up for his brother. ‘’You’ve always been protective, I see,’’ you said, turning to Jace.  A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘’Okay. Luke, that’s enough,’’ Jace decided, taking you away from him before more embarrassing stories could come out of his brother’s mouth.

—

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[kissenturine]

boothill,, gunplay. thats the thought,, if ur comfortable writing that ofc ofc

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 boothill x m!reader — 1.4k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: gun play, slight chocking, boothill puts his gun in reader's mouth, boothill kind of bends reader over, boothill also makes reader jerk off, uh boothill kinda mean-ish, he pretends to shoot reader, aftercare is not written but it is given! lmk if i missed anyy :3

KAI SAYS: hello guys,, shorter than usual bc ive landed myself in the er due to multiple reasons haha (chronic hives, low blood pressure, fainting spells, dehydration, etc) and i miiight not be able to post until like next weekend maybe (?) so so soso sorry for the inconvenience aaargh, writing this in the hospital too... not dying tho everything super minor so!!

The first time you ever saw Boothill pull a gun was at a training centre. He said something about wanting to work on his aim, and so he decided to head there, late at night. No one else was there—just the two of you.

Boothill pulls out his gun, flicking a few bullets into the spinning revolver with practiced ease before he pulls the trigger. A loud ‘bang’ fills the room, followed by the sound of his metal bullets clinking to the floor after the shot.

“Well color me stoked.” Boothill grins, showing off his sharp teeth. “Seems I ain’t that bad after all!”

“Well, you were always good with guns, anyway.” You respond, returning Boothill’s grin with a smile of your own. He was indeed good with guns, and it was undoubtedly attractive.

Boothill’s hands spin the revolver, watching the metal clink. It was much too fast for you to see, so you didn’t know which one ended up landing. Boothill is quick to draw his gun again, smirking as he pointed it at you—straight into your chest.

“Boothill?” You question. “What are you—”

You are cut off by the loud sound of his gun shooting. Your eyes shut and you winced instinctively, your body tensing up for the bullet that was about to hit your skin.

…Yet it never happened. 

Cracking one eye open, you peer at Boothill cautiously, only to find him gripping his metal abs, a roaring laugh rolling from his lips. “Oh, darlin’ you know I’d never shoot ya!” He laughs again, though this time it was softer. “C’mon, love, I’d never hurt ya.” He murmurs sweetly as he makes his way closer to you, his gun still in hand.

He presses the muzzle playfully against your chest, trailing it up and down your abdomen. Boothill’s smirk only widened as he slipped his gun—along with the hand holding it—under your shirt. He presses the muzzle right against your nipple, watching you shiver at the cool metal.

“Boothill.” You whisper firmly. “What’re you doing?”

He says nothing, only continuing to drag his gun against your skin, sending shivers of delight across your body.

Eventually, his gun finds its way to the hem of your pants. Boothill gives you a wicked smile before he uses his free hand to yank down your pants and boxers, exposing your half-hard cock. “Well, ain’t that a pretty sight.” He cooes, letting the muzzle of his gun rest against your tip.

“Jerk it for me, pretty boy.” Boothill says. You blink up at him, confusion filling your face.

“Huh…?” You question.

“I said.” Boothill groans, pressing the muzzle of his gun harder into your tip. “Jerk it for me, or else I’m gonna be shootin’ this pretty lil’ dick o’ yours.” Boothill wouldn’t really. You knew that. He said it himself. And yet… the fear that he would is still there, forcing small tears to well in your pretty eyes as you looked up at him desperately.

“O-Okay.” You comply, wrapping your hand around your shaft as you slowly start to glide your closed fist up and down.

“Good boy.” Boothill praises, and his voice makes your dick twitch against his gun.

You move your hand, squeezing as you get to your tip and rolling your thumb to spread your precum. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as Boothill rocked the muzzle of his gun in time with your hand.

“Look at ya.” He groans, his free hand going to squeeze at your throat. “Gettin’ off to my gun pointed at ya.” Boothill smirks, rolling the revolver again until the familiar ‘click’ sound resounds around the room. “Pretty thing, d’ya even know what this could do to you? Or are you too dumbed down already?”

“Stop teasin’” You whine, your hand's pace slowing as you turn your gaze away from Boothill’s. “Not that dumb yet…”

“Yet.” He repeats, removing his gun from your dick. “Think I can change that real quick, no?” A sharp laugh escapes Boothill’s lips as he suddenly hoists you up and off the barstool you sat on. He spins your body with only a smidge of grace as he lands you roughly on your stomach against the table, your ass now facing Boothill.

“Aeons, you’re so pretty…” He murmurs, his hands roughly groping the fat of your ass. “Can’t believe yer all mine…”

A whine slips from your lips, high and pathetic as your eyes flutter closed. “Yeah…” You whisper. “All yours…” You feel Boothill drag the muzzle along your back—sliding it under your shirt, before he pulls his arm up, tearing through the thin fabric. You shiver at the newfound cold, goosebumps prickling your exposed skin.

You hear the zipper of his pants as he pulls it down, pulling out his cock and tapping it against your clothed ass before he’s yanking down your shorts. Boothill traces a metal finger around your puckered rim, eyeing you carefully. “Such a cute ‘lil hole…” He whispers out breathlessly. “Can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The instant Boothill stops speaking, you feel the tip of his metal cock push past your hole, stretching you out more than you could ever imagine—despite doing this with him before. “Boothill.” You moan out, eyes fluttering as you crane your neck to look at him—only to have your face pushed right back into the table by the shove of his gun against the back of your head,

“Stay still f’me, pretty.” Boothill groans, easing his cock into you. The more he pushes in, the more painful the stretch is… And yet, the more painful it is, the more pleasure your body seems to derive from it. Boothill is only halfway in when you feel like you’ve been stuffed to your limit. A pathetic sound escapes you and you feel his gun press down harder.

Boothill removes his gun from you, using it to force your head to the side. He leans down, spitting a thick glob of spit all over the muzzle, smirking as it gets his gun all messy. “Open.” He taps it against your lips, making sure to smear his spit all over. Boothill’s smirk only widens when you follow, opening your mouth and letting his muzzle sit between your pretty lips. “Atta boy.” He whispers, thrusting with full force his cock into your awaiting hole.

“Boothill…!” You moan out, though it’s muffled by his gun pressing against the flat of your tongue. Your thighs tense at the sudden pleasure. A gurgly whine leaves your throat. “I can’t—”

“You can,” Boothill growls, pressing his gun deeper into your throat. His thumb goes to spin the revolver, making sure it lands on a slot with a bullet before continuing, “and you will. Ya know why, cutie? ‘Cause you're my good boy, and good boys take what they’re given.”

He sets a brutal pace after, thrusting into you relentlessly. It doesn’t matter how you plead, all Boothill does is press his gun further down your throat—until you’re sure your lips will bleed from the stretch. Eventually, his tip knocks against your prostate, sending you over the edge. Your dick squirts a load, all over the table and floor, yet Boothill doesn’t falter.

“Look at you, cummin’ like a slut.” He groans, and his pace seems to increase. He’s suddenly going harder, faster, everything that makes your head spin with the added overstimulation.

You cry against the gun, tears welling in the corner of your eyes. Boothill seems to enjoy the sight, leaning down to kiss softly against the back of your neck, his free hand wrapping around your waist and fisting your spent cock.

“That’s it…” He coos. “You think ya can give me one more?” His hand increases, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he knocks into your prostate again and again and again. “C-C’mon, need t’do it together.” You nod your head eagerly, drool slipping from between the corner of your lips and his gun.

Boothill thrusts harshly, finally sending you over the edge for the second time, and you feel his metal dick twitch in time with you. Your eyes roll back, ecstasy overwhelming you as Boothill pumps a thick, sticky load into your ass, painting your walls white.

“You’re so good f’me…” He coos into your ear, sliding his gun slowly out of your mouth. With a familiar click, the resounding sound of a gunshot echoes throughout the room as he shoots his last bullet into the table—right by your head. “You’re always so good an’ pretty with my gun…”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @helloanime @kiekole (send ask without anon to be added)

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[ham1lton]

semi charmed kinda life!

pairings: jenson button x driver!reader.

warnings: smut at the end. please don’t say i didn’t warn you.

summary: simple story. girl meets boy. boy is her older brother’s best friend. boy is off limits. then boy sees her all sweaty post race. you know the rest.

author’s note: quick request! i combined two requests into one :) wrote this on the train and i’m home now! hope u all enjoy <3 it’s very long :(

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

jenson didn’t consider himself to be easily distracted. when he was younger, absolutely. if a pretty girl winked at him or he saw a gorgeous vintage car, it could easily turn his head. yet, now he was in his forties, he liked to think he was pretty indestructible.

jenson knew you, of course he did. he was best friends with your older brother. they had met as they both karted when they were younger and when your brother had decided he wanted to go to university and have a normal job, they had kept the friendship going.

however, he didn’t interact with you a lot. he only knew you as the determined kid who drove circles around your brother.

that was all he knew, that you were really good and really busy. you lived up to your hype as you eventually became the first female f1 driver to win a championship. you didn’t race at the same time as jenson did, as there was a noticeable age gap between the two of you, and now as you’re nearing your late twenties, you’re also reaching your peak.

you easily land first place as you take off your helmet and shake your hair free. you smile and hug your team as they all encircle you as best they can. you looked radiant, winning looked natural on you.

jenson couldn’t stop looking at you. it was like a switch set off in his brain. y/n was hot? had you always looked like that?

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────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

as the crowd began to disperse, you caught sight of jenson standing off to the side. your smile widened and you made your way over to him. “jenson, hey! it’s been a while,” you said, pulling him into a friendly hug.

“y/n, congrats. that was an incredible race,” he replied, trying to keep his tone cool and casual.

“thanks. it feels surreal, honestly,” you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i never thought i’d get here.”

“you’ve earned it,” jenson said, meaning every word. “you’ve always been talented.”

“coming from you, that means a lot.” you said, your eyes sparkling with gratitude and … something else? but before he can think too hard, it’s gone and your assistant is by your shoulder. you look apologetic as you turn to go.

“say hi to your family for me.” jenson calls out after you. desperate for another second of your attention. you turn around and give him a wink.

“course i will. you’re practically a l/n now jenson.” you laugh, as you head into the garage, leaving him grinning after you like a little kid again.

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later that evening, jenson found himself at the hotel bar, nursing a drink. it wasn’t as strong as he’d usually like it but it was enough.

the place was buzzing with post-race energy, filled with drivers, team members, and fans celebrating the day's events. he glanced around, half-expecting to see you among the revellers. just as he took another sip, you walked in, and he nearly choked on his drink.

you looked incredible. gone was the racing suit, replaced by a sleek dress that hugged your curves perfectly. your hair was styled effortlessly, and the confidence you exuded was even more noticeable now. you scanned the room, your eyes landing on jenson. a smile spread across your face as you made your way over.

"jenson, hi. mind if i join you?" you asked, your voice carrying over the noise of the bar.

"sure, please," he replied, hoping he sounded more composed than he felt.

you took the seat next to him, ordering a drink. he noticed you didn’t get an alcoholic one. "crazy day, huh?"

"definitely. you were amazing out there," jenson said, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice.

"thanks. it still feels like a dream," you said, your eyes meeting his.

for a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, the kind that speaks volumes. jenson felt a rush of nerves, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. he was used to being in control, but you had a way of making him feel like a teenager with a crush.

"so, what's next for you?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation going. he turns towards you.

"celebrate tonight, then back to training tomorrow," you replied, laughing softly. "no rest for the wicked."

“i don’t miss that part.” he laughs, taking another sip and not ignoring the way your eyes watch him.

“what about you? mr button.” you say, crossing your legs. “what’s next for you?”

“now my racing days are behind me?” you nod. “commentating, business, mentoring and a bunch of other things. trying a bit of everything before i die.”

“sounds like you have your hands full.” you raise an eyebrow. “still, i bet you miss the track.”

“every day,” he admitted. “but it’s also nice to watch the next generation take over. like you.”

“you like watching me?”

“who doesn’t?” jenson smiles ruefully, like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

you finished your drink quickly, and looked at your watch. you sigh. jenson’s heart sank slightly, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“i suppose i should get some rest. early day tomorrow.”

“oh, yeah, of course. don’t want to keep you up.”

“unless, would you like to join me?”

his pulse quickened as you looked at him. he smiled.

“i’d like that.”

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you kissed as well as you drove. firmly, and in control. weird analogy but jenson’s brain was always in driving mode, even as you slid your hand into his pants. okay, maybe not then.

you grin into the kiss as he holds you tighter. he runs a hand through your hair as your hands encircle him. he breaks the kiss as he stands back for a second and wipes off your smeared lipgloss, he kisses you again enthusiastically as your grip on him tightens.

“god, you’re fucking gorgeous.” he moans as you stroke him.

“yeah?” you break the kiss to help him get undressed and for a moment, you enjoy the contrast of your clothed self versus his nakedness. “you thought about this?”

“maybe.” he has the audacity to look slightly sheepish as if that isn’t the hottest thing he could have said to you. your childhood crush is in front of you, admitting that he thinks you’re hot and that he’s fantasised about you. you drop to your knees as he gently puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail with his hand. the response he gives as you go down on him is more than enough to have your legs pressing together.

“wait! wait.” he says, breathlessly. you stop and look up at him with curious eyes. “i’m gonna cum if you continue. don’t have the same refractory period as i did when i was younger sweetheart. let me return the favour, yeah?”

you smile, all innocence, as your brother’s best friend peels the dress that you were wearing off your body. thank god you had prepared for this opportunity, you had worn your sexiest lingerie in the chance that this happened tonight. jenson kisses you harder, and you know he likes it.

after a moment, he’s between your legs and what’s left of your makeup is smudged. you’re at least seventy percent sure that your mascara has left your eyelashes and moved all over your cheeks. he’s gently pressing kisses to your clit through your panties, which are already wet with your arousal. he starts to lick at you slowly, through the material. he continues for a while, tongue pressed against you as you languidly grind your hips against his face. but it isn’t enough.

“jenson, please do something.” you cry out.

“i am doing something.” he smiles, faux innocence plastered all over his handsome face. he presses a finger against you, and removes it covered in your arousal. “she clearly likes it.”

“do it properly.”

“say the magic word, miss race winner.”

“please.” you sob. “please, please, please! is that good enough for you?”

“i was going to get you off regardless sweetheart.” jenson grins and you want to smack him, but then he peels off your panties and breathes in your arousal. before his face dives into your cunt, pressing his nose against your clit as he gathers your juices with his tongue. he enters a finger to stretch you open as you dig your hands into his greying hair to pull him closer between your thighs.

he adds a second finger, and then a third, and the stretch is delicious. he focuses his tongue on your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. you knew you were close as you could feel the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. almost like he knew, he started curling his fingers inside of you and letting you grind down even harder on his face.

when you came, you swore you could see stars.

jenson lets you ride his face through the aftershocks, and then he looks up at you, grinning, his chin still wet with your arousal.

“told you you’d cum.”

“yeah, yeah.” you wave him off breathlessly. “let me get you off.”

“i’m an easy man.” jenson shrugs as he moves up on top of you. “anyway you’ll let me have you, i’ll enjoy it.”

“i want you in me.”

the burn of him entering you is a welcome one. you thank god he prepped you well, it had been a while since you’d had sex and you needed the extra wetness. you can’t even focus on what he’s saying as he fucks into you. everything blurs as you watch him, you’re more focused on how sexy he looks and how good it feels. he kisses all over your neck and your lips.

“look at you.” he groans as he fucks into you harder. your back arches as he takes a nipple in his mouth. your heels dig into his lower back.

you can feel your oncoming orgasm as jenson presses a lazy thumb against your clit and when he looks down in wonder at his cock fucking into your messy cunt, your world goes white as you gush all over him. he fucks you through the aftershocks until he finds his own orgasm, body collapsing onto yours as you hold him close, stroking his sweaty hair.

“you okay? was that good for you?” you ask after a moment. he laughs breathlessly.

“you couldn’t be bad for me. i could have gotten off just lookin’ at you.” he turns to grin at you. “you were great. 10/10.”

“thanks,” you smile and press a kiss against his lips. “coming from you, that means a lot.”

his laughter rumbles through his chest and you can feel the vibrations. you can’t help but laugh too.

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liked by bestie, ynswifey and 1,293,902 others.

yourusername: what’s better than one world champion? two.

view all 234,937 comments

user1: WHAT THE FUCK

user2: I CALLED IT

user3: mommy and daddy.

-> user7: all these bitches are their sons fr

user4: threesome perhaps? :)

-> user9: i need them both carnally.

user12: omggggg bagging her childhood crush AND another championship. yn ur MY goat.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

taglist: @23victoria @c-losur3 @imsiriuslyreal @f1withleire @kamabokogonpachro @sya-skies @dark-night-sky-99 @handsupforamiracle @lichterfee @namgification

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Ten - Setback

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie suffers an injury during a game and has to navigate balancing her recovery and caring for you. She feels helpless as she tries to step up for you, but can't the way she wants to.

Warnings: Language. Slight angst.

A/N: Inspired by poor Jessie's injury during the Olympics. And everyone please knock on wood I'm not putting some bad mojo out there with this. Oh, and in this world Janine is still a Thorn 🙏 Rest of the series is here.

"-and Fleming is down. Oh, that looked like a hard hit. She's moving, but she's not getting up."

Football was a physical sport. She'd seen far too many friends ushered off the pitch to never fully, or sometimes even ever, return. She'd been extraordinarily lucky that she'd been more or less injury-free her career. However, sometimes she did take a few knocks.

Normally, she was most worried about the team anytime she was injured; that she was letting them down. But as you held her hand while she sat on the examination table in the medical assessment room, your eyes filled with concern and worry - at least for the short amounts of time she could manage to look at you; even with dimmed lights it was too damn bright - she felt most guilty about you.

"I'm confident we're looking at a Grade 2 concussion here," the team doctor said. "I'm not worried that we're into severe or Grade 3 territory. Y/N, I'm going to ask that you help monitor Jessie's symptoms and recovery over the next couple of weeks. If repeat vomiting occurs, extensive dizziness, or she's having prolonged confusion or headaches aren't improving, please contact me immediately."

Jessie had her eyes screwed shut. She tried to focus on her breathing and keeping herself steady as she attempted to will away the incessant pounding in her head. She opened them as the doctor finished speaking to see you nodding eagerly. Your eyes were trained on the woman before glancing back at Jessie and lifting her hand to give it a quick kiss.

"For the next couple of days - lots of rest. That means physical and mental. Very limited reading and screen time. And you're going to be really sensitive to lights and sounds, so a dark and quiet environment is best.

"Days three and four, you can start some light physical or mental activities again. Short, non-strenuous walks, for example. But listen to your body. Days five to seven, you can increase things a bit more, but-"

"We're moving in less than two weeks," Jessie interjected, wincing as she opened her eyes once more to look at the doctor. The doctor, who she knew well, gave her a look of warning, knowing where this was going.

"You should not be packing or moving furniture in two weeks," the doctor said firmly. "You can take on some light packing maybe 7-10 days from now, but carrying heavy boxes is out of the question."

Jessie shook her head and regretted it immediately, wincing sharply this time, a hand flying up to her temple as she grimaced in pain. Your hand came to her shoulder and she sat very still as she rode out a wave of pain.

"We'll hire packers," you told her sternly. "We already have movers anyway."

"No," Jessie returned stubbornly, still unable to open her eyes.

"Well, she's still coherent enough to argue with me, so I guess that's a good sign, right?" You relayed flatly to the doctor who chuckled.

"It is, actually," she said. "Y/N, you know my number. Feel free to contact me directly if you have any questions. Jessie," Jessie felt the doctor's hand on her shoulder and she slowly blinked her eyes open to face her, "behave yourself. I know you like to be busy and I know you want to take care of your fiancée, but you'll be able to get back to that much sooner if you listen to your body and to me."

"Mm," Jessie voiced noncommittally.

The doctor chuckled and spoke to you again.

"Okay, you can take her home now. And with all of this urgency I didn't even have a chance to ask how you're doing. How much longer?"

"About two months left," you answered.

"Oh my gosh. Final stretch, hey? How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," you said. Jessie peeked an eye open to see your hand subconsciously rubbing your enlarged stomach while you continued to hold her hand in your other. "She's so active." You shot Jessie a sidelong, mildly teasing glance. "And at night in particular. I blame myself for that one - I'm the night owl of the two of us, so she must be getting that from me. But yeah, some of the third trimester symptoms are certainly popping up, but truly, I can't complain too much. Or shouldn't yet anyway," you finished with a smirk.

"Well, it'll be nice to get settled in your new place before the baby comes. I'm positive you'll sort out the logistics just fine," the doctor added pointedly and Jessie knew it was for her.

"That's the plan," you said. "It shouldn't be bad. We don't have too much stuff. Most of the furniture will be new and we're just getting all of it delivered after our move-in date."

"That's great. Well, Jessie, I will be seeing you in a week for a follow-up, but Y/N, if I don't see you anytime soon, I have my fingers crossed that the rest of your pregnancy goes smoothly. Can't wait to see pictures of your little one once she's born."

The walk out to the car was slow and tedious. Jessie tried to walk casually and easily, dismissing your supportive arm and wanting to walk on her own, but ended up bracing herself against a random car only ten feet in as she became disoriented. Your arms were around her in a second.

"Baby, come on. Don't be so stubborn. Put your arm around me," you told her both tenderly and firmly. Despite the medication the doctor gave her, her head was still pounding and she had to relent.

She was filled with self-contempt as you eased her into the passenger seat and gently closed the door, wary of both the jostling and sound.

"My baby," you cooed after you climbed in and were settled. You rubbed her thigh and placed the cold compress the doctor had given you into her hand. "Here, hold this against you. It'll help."

"I hate this," Jessie said, voice shuddering against her will.

"I know, love," you said gently. "Let's be grateful it's nothing more severe. I know that doesn't help you in this moment though. Let's get you home, alright?"

She opened her eyes to look at you. Your bump was nearly pressed against the wheel at this stage in your pregnancy.

Jessie sniffled and rubbed her face in aggravation. You shouldn't be taking care of her. You shouldn't be worrying about her. It should be the other way around.

Though you drove as steadily as you could the whole way home, even the slightest jostling or bumps sent pain through her. She gripped the seat tightly and breathed heavily as she fought off a persistent wave of nausea.

She leaned heavily on you despite herself as you both walked up to the apartment. You'd found a hat of hers in the trunk and put it on her to block out some of the lights she'd encounter on the journey up. She apologized repeatedly throughout the walk and you tutted in disapproval and shushed her.

You put her to bed and Jessie began sniffling again as emotions began to bubble up once more as she watched you going all around the apartment to get her set up and cared for.

At one point you were in digging through one of the bottom drawers in the bathroom for something. You held onto the counter with one hand to balance yourself and you huffed in exertion, your stomach very much in the way.

Jessie sat up, wanting to come over to help you. She grimaced as her head began to pound anew and her vision narrowed to a point. She swayed in bed for a second before she felt safe enough to move again. She'd only flung the covers off of herself and lowered her feet to the floor when you voice boomed from the other room.

"Jessie," your voice sharp and making her flinch. "Get back into bed," you said insistently, but much softer this time as you walked back over and gently pushed her back down. She whined and sniffled as you did so. You began to laugh and her eyes grew wide as she looked to you in disbelief.

"Why are you laughing?" Jessie asked, her voice so much weaker than she intended.

"You're being silly," you said through a residual laugh. "You're so stubborn. You were levelled onto the pitch, nearly unconscious, less than two hours ago. Please, just relax tonight. Can you do me that favour?"

"I should be helping you," she went on, her voice up an octave as she fought through emotion.

"You can help me by resting," you told her patiently. "Oh, I have to text your parents back. They're worried about you."

She really wasn't in the right state of mind, because suddenly she felt her face screw up and she began sobbing, made worse by the physical pain the action triggered inside of her.

"Jess," your tone gentle and inquiring, but clearly in shock at the sudden outburst. You sat down next to her immediately and began caressing her head. "What's going on?"

Jessie winced in pain as her shoulders shook while she cried.

"Oh my gosh," you said, underlying concern in your voice as you began to rub her back and you took her hand. "Is it your head? What can I do, baby?"

"I'm letting you down," Jessie forced out, breath hitching at the end of her sentence. "I should be taking care of you."

"Oh my God. Babe, stop that," you said gently, but urgently. "You're not letting me down at all. You take care of me all the time. You're injured. It's okay."

"I'm not a good partner," she sobbed. She heard the sound of surprise from you, but she couldn't stop herself. "I'm not around enough. And that's bad enough. And now we're having a baby? I'm never going to be around. I'm going to be an absent parent. And even if I'm here, I might be injured and you'll have to take care of us both."

"Jess. Oh my God," you said in bewilderment as you rubbed her back further. "Baby, please. None of those things are true. Take a breath."

You placed a hand on her chest, pressing firmly and somehow it immediately caused her to slow her breathing. She brought her hand to yours and clutched it tightly.

"Breathe," you said patiently. "It's going to be okay."

Within those few moments, Jessie's breathing began to normalize and she felt her pulse slow once more. She exhaled and the tightness she'd held in her brow relaxed with it.

"It's okay, baby. Just breathe," you coaxed softly as you continued to rub her back and hold your hand and hers to her chest.

Her eyes remained closed as she let you calm her. Her shoulders hitched periodically with a residual cry, but eventually, she sniffled and opened her eyes to look up at you. The room was dark, but she could still make out your features.

"I don't want to let you down," she whispered, voice still trembling as her throat tightened once more, emotions threatening to spill over once more.

"You never let me down," you told her resolutely. "Ever. And I mean that." You let those words sink in before carrying on. "You are the absolute best partner I could ever hope for."

Jessie watched quietly as you smiled, but it faltered. Looking closer she saw tears starting to form in your eyes.

"I'm serious. You know my family. My parents marriage was absolute shit. I didn't know - for a long time - that relationships could be good. That they should be. The way you love me, the way you care for me, is something I didn't even want to hope for because it seemed so impossible. And then even if it was possible, there was no way I'd find someone like that for me. That I would deserve to be loved like that."

"Babe-" Jessie went to interject, but you stopped her.

"When I tell you you're incredible, I really mean it. You're far more than I could've ever hoped or dreamed for. You show me more love and affection in a day than I felt for years at a time. I swear. So please don't ever worry about letting me down."

Jessie was sniffling now, blinking tears onto her pillow and she lifted your hand to kiss it, holding it there against her lips and clutching you tightly. She hated that you felt that way for so many years. And though she was happy that she could make you feel loved like that, it broke her heart, too. She just couldn't fathom someone not loving you wholly and completely.

You leaned down and kissed her forehead, removing your hand from her back to caress the side of her face. You chuckled lightly, speaking against her forehead.

"Short of cheating on me or having some secret family on the side, you could never let me down."

"Babe," Jessie complained, shifting her head to try to look at you. "I would never do that."

"Just saying," you said lightly as you sat back up. "That's the line. For clarity purposes - even if you fell out of love with me and chose to end things, you still wouldn't be letting me down. I'd be devastated, of course, but I would respect that and still love you."

"Babe," Jessie started whimpering again and you consoled her.

"Okay, okay," you placated. "Last thing. Yes, you travel. Yes, you'll be away sometimes. And yes, it is possible that you could get injured again. But that's okay. Of course, I don't want you to get injured, but because I love you. You need to understand that we're partners. We take care of each other.

"And lots of parents travel for work. I know you sometimes forget, but I'm pretty independent and I'm capable," you smirked. "Plus, we have lots of support in case I or our daughter need anything while you're away. What stands out most to me is our daughter will grow up seeing her mom pursue what she loves, working hard to be the best as what she does, and inspiring a new generation of players. That means so much and I wouldn't change it."

You laid another kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, baby. I love you so much. I'm going to take care of a few things, but I'll be back soon and we can lay together, okay?"

She gave a faint noise of acceptance and you rose from the bed, pushing off slowly, now having to lean back and get your balance to counter the weight of the baby. Jessie's hand shot out to brace your back, and though you delivered a stare her way after you were steady, it dissolved into a smirk.

"See? You're still helping me."

------

The week dragged on so horribly slowly for Jessie. She was so frustrated and upset with herself. She would've always wanted to be able to get up and go, do things, but especially now. You’d taken over essentially all of the household chores and errands and she felt exponentially guilty.

One day you came home, shuffling through the door with bags of groceries hanging off your arms. Jessie shot up off the couch to help you, but her vision began to peter out. She paused a few steps in to brace herself against a nearby chair.

"Jessie," you chided.

She could hear you putting down the various bags. And she pre-emptively put up her hands in defense. "I'm fine." When she opened her eyes again, she was met with a disapproving look from you. She dropped your gaze immediately.

"Sit down, please," you instructed.

"I can help you put everything away," she insisted as she tried to push past you, only to have you hold her back.

"Jess," your voice was curt and she knew you meant business. She could feel your gaze burning into the back of her head and she forced herself to look at you. You went on softer this time. "I'm sure you could help me with groceries. But I'm fine. Honestly. You can help me most by doing as your doctor said, and taking it easy."

She was contemplating a rebuttal, which you saw it coming from a mile away and you continued.

"Don't make me resort to tactics of emotional warfare," you said sarcastically and Jessie huffed, recalling how you told her the other day that the more you had to wrangle her, the more your daughter kicked and squirmed and tired her out.

Jessie sighed begrudgingly and collapsed into the couch, an instant pang shooting through her head at the jarring motion. Served her right for being petulant, she thought ruefully. Despite her antics, she felt your hand caress the side of her head.

"It's like a preview into parenting," you joked before kissing her head and returning to the groceries. Jessie opened her eyes and glared at your retreating form.

"Yeah? Are you going to threaten our kid with guilt trips, too?" She'd meant it as a bit of a snide joke, but immediately regretted her words as soon as she'd said them. Your movements stilled and you slowly turned back to face her, your expression one that made Jessie sink further into her seat.

"Do not start with me, Jessica."

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "That was uncalled for."

"You're still injured. A brain injury at that," you replied as you went back to the bags before giving her a pointed look. "I'll chalk it up to that. You get one freebie."

Jessie was silent as she watched you work. Your movements were laboured at times and she see how much effort it took to do certain tasks. Still, it was true, you managed just fine.

When you were finished, you returned to the living room and sat heavily next to her, a sigh of relief on your lips as you leaned back. You were short of breath, and Jessie looked away quickly when you felt her watchful gaze and peeked open at eye at her. You held out a hand, gesturing for her to relax.

"She's pushing against my diaphragm; it's making it harder to breath, it's not a big deal," you reassured her pre-emptively. You placed your hands on the cushions and pushed yourself up to sit straighter before you met her eyes again. You took her hand.

"I know you want to help. But you have to pace yourself. You can't spring up and sprint over, or you can't be up and down trying to pack and lift things. Not right now. You know better than that," you said gently.

"I already texted Janine and Kelli about packing. They agreed to come over tomorrow," she pouted, spurred on by another failed attempt of hers yesterday. You sighed and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you for doing that. I feel much better about that approach," you told her.

"I'm sorry," Jessie said, fingers fidgeting as she remained slumped on the couch. She sat up and gave you a hopeful look. "I'm feeling better every day, though. I'll be able to help out a lot more around the house soon."

You gave her a patient look and cupped her face in your hands.

"I'm pregnant - not infirm. Did you know...there are thousands of women, for one reason or another, who do this alone? I am very, very lucky that I have you and you’ve been so attentive and wonderful. But there are many women who manage all by themselves. I can do the same - not even, actually, since you’re still here and supportive - for a couple of weeks."

Despite your words of reassurance, Jessie's face fell and she snuggled into you, resting her head on your shoulder. She frowned as she felt your body jostle with a soft chuckle as you wrapped your arms around her. You kissed the crown of her head.

"My sweet baby," you chuckled further against her though she groaned. "Don't worry. A few weeks from now when I'm complaining 24/7 and can barely get out of bed, you'll be relishing these moments."

--------

True to their word, the next day Kelli and Janine were over and were making serious progress on packing up the apartment under Jessie's and your watchful eye.

Despite their help, it was a struggle for Jessie. She was very particular about things like this and she wanted things packed up and organized in specific order and way. With some coaching from you, she'd had to let some of that go, but it wasn't easy.

She and you packed up the lighter things, but anything heavy, and particular full boxes, were left to the girls. And what upset her even more was that she was having trouble focusing. Between all of the lights - clearly, none of you could pack in the dark - and physical exertion, she found herself having to take more breaks than she liked and you'd had to take over quite a bit in directing the girls.

Still, when she was able to, she tried.

"Oh, that needs to go over here," Jessie interrupted as Kelli was setting down a box in the obviously wrong pile. Kelli rolled her eyes good-naturedly and picked up the box once more with a heaving motion, balancing it against her thigh as she adjusted her grip before moving it to the appropriate area.

"Better, princess?" She asked, eliciting a scowl out of Jessie. She knew Kelli was just joking, but it was grating on her. Kelli called her that a few times now, along with a couple of other cracks in that vein.

Her friends, throughout her entire life, had always loved teasing her. Maybe it was the way she blushed when she got flustered or worked up, but people just seemed to love poking at her. Normally, she took it in stride, but it was hard to laugh them off today.

She had all of this mapped out and was fully ready to tackle it alone. Did Kelli think she wanted to ask them for help? No. She hated it.

You were supposed to have your feet up without a worry while she took care of it all. Instead, you were on your feet, packing alongside them and doing more than your fair share of directing and corralling. She saw how you stood there, a hand on your back as you caught your breath, a veiled wince now and then. She could see how sore and tired you were getting.

Her stare followed Kelli as she bounded back over to Janine to gather up some more items. Jessie could feel the heavy tension between her shoulder blades and she felt her face and ears growing hot. She took a steadying breath, she knew this feeling; if she wasn't careful she'd be blinking back tears soon.

She released a slow, deep breath as she returned her attention to the box in front of her and labelled it accordingly. She was setting down the marker when out of the corner of her eye she caught you waving Kelli over. She watched as you spoke in a hushed tone to her and nodded to the other room.

Jessie frowned as she watched you two retreat. Something seemed off, confirmed when you partially closed the door behind you. Jessie quietly padded over and held her ear close to the opening. She whipped her head around, gritting her teeth momentarily at the way the sudden motion aggravated her symptoms, when she felt Janine sneak up, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What's going on?" Janine mouthed, ever curious. Jessie shrugged the girl's hand off her shoulder tempermentally.

"I don't know," she mouthed back with a mild glare. Janine rolled her eyes and they both leaned in.

"-I appreciate your help. I know you don't have to be doing this. But you need to stop making jokes. She already feels bad enough. She doesn't need you making cracks at her expense. She wouldn't do that to you if situations were reversed. So stop. Please."

Jessie's stomach sank. Now you were defending her as well. She went to push the door open, but Janine pulled her back and away, well out of earshot.

"Let it go," Janine told her.

The emotions Jessie had been working to keep at bay just minutes ago were now raging forward. Her ears were burning and she sniffled.

"Jess," Janine warned her with underlying care in her voice. She knew the last thing Jessie would want right now is to have an emotional meltdown. Janine placed her hands on Jessie's shoulders and spoke calmly, but firmly. "It's fine. Nothing to get worked up about. Y/N loves you a ton. She's being a mama bear to you right now. And fair enough. You're not feeling well, so she's looking out for you. Kelli's a big girl. She'll get it. She'll be fine."

Jessie sniffled and folded her arms against herself.

"It just sucks," she said as she worked to regain her composure.

"I know," Janine said as she patted her on the shoulder. "You'll be all better soon though. Take it easy on yourself." She smirked. "Y/N said you were planning to paint a few rooms in the new place a couple weeks from now. You're on your own for that."

Although she fought it, Jessie had to laugh. She was about to comment when she noticed the door open behind Janine and you and Kelli stepped out. She studied you both and to her surprise nothing seemed odd.

Janine followed her gaze and looked back at her with a wink before going back to help Kelli, who, at least as far as Jessie could see, was in fine spirits.

You must've noticed Jessie's behaviour because you soon approached.

"Everything okay, babe?" You asked.

She looked to you, her gaze eventually falling to your rounded stomach. She placed her hands on your pronounced bump and ran a thumb lovingly along it before lifting her gaze back up to you and all of the boxes around; a physical manifestation of the new chapter you both were starting together. She smiled at you.

"Yeah. Everything's good."

[pbnbucks]

enemies to lovers Caitlin Clark fic?

word count : 1.4k

warnings : iowa caitlin, cussing, harassment?

summary : you worked for iowa wbb for 3 years as their photographer and you and caitlin have hated each other since you crossed paths when you accidentally spilt coffee on her and one night she ends up in your bed after a late night out.

song : Don’t Fall In Love With Me by Khalid || play dat shit !

your walking through the courtyard when you feel somebody’s finger tap your shoulder gaining your full divided attention when you turn around to see who it was your mood drops.

“even though i dont like you kate asked me to invite you to the bar with the team tonight.” caitlin says trying to throw as much shade she can keeping her evil promise that was to always hold her grudge against you.

you and caitlin’s freshman year you two met on the way to the girls basketball practice to take pictures like your boss told you to.

when you tried to open the door caitlin was trying to leave causing your non fresh cold batch of black coffee that you were holding on to all day to spill all over caitlins practice jersey.

“you sure its just kate who wants me to come clark?” you tease already preparing your shady conversation.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? How we always end up, in the same place, at the same time.” she retorts trying to regain your attention as you tried to make your exit.

“It’s not funny, I know you’ve been stalking me. That’s how we always end up together.” you say giving her a cold shoulder as she blocks your failed exit from the conversation once again.

“Stalking? You? in your dreams.” she scoffs finally moving out the way turning her body watching your back as you walk away from her.

you walk through the glass doors entering the bar seeing the group of girls next to other groups of drunken horny college kids in all different areas of the bar.

you grab a spot next to kate and hannah the girls you were closest to on the team showering you in hugs as soon as you sit down.

caitlins gaze remained on you sending glares the second you maintained eye contact with her. her purposeful ways trying to get on your nerves failing as you refused to make a scene in front of the others.

a group of non sober college individuals walked by when one of them dropped there glass cup of beer on your arm as it made a tiny cut around your elbow.

the noise of the glass bear gains the teams attention as they all rush to see if your okay as kate grabs you pulling you up off the couch to get you away from the broken glass that surrounded the table.

“are you okay?” sydney asked you with worry in her voice as you brush her off to head to the family bathroom. you lock the door behind you grabbing paper towels to dry the small patch of blood.

your interrupted by the sound of loud hard knocks on the wooden bathroom door. you unlock it holding it shut for a second to regain consciousness when you unlock it to see caitlin standing there pushing herself in through the door.

“Come here, let me see the cut.” she states giving you no time to ask her, her needs to be there. you keep your distance shooing her off turning back to face the mirror continuing to clean the paper cut.

“No its not that big of a deal.” only for caitlin to snatch your arm “let. me. see.” she says looking closely at the minor injury studying the small cut intently.

“ill be right back” she says carefully freeing your arm from her grasp as she leaves keeping her promise to be quick as she returns with a pack of alcohol wipes.

“hold still. this might sting a little.” she coos grabbing your arm again this time much more careful, preparing the wipe running it along the cut as the feeling of the short amount of pain fades away.

“now be careful, you don’t want to hurt your good hand” she says referring to your photography hand. her words never failing to confuse you as she has never behaved like this before.

“Since when did you ever care about me?” you respond catching her off guard receiving a dirty look from her as she rolls her eyes at your question.

“are you seriously going to do this right now?” she says standing in front of your face now as she focuses her anger and compassion on you making you roll her eyes at her comment.

“because you never act like this, since when did you begin to care all of a sudden.” backing up your statement trying to prove your point to the brunette.

“Since fucking forever, you fucking idiot!” she says throwing off your ego and pride as her whole energy was off this night letting her passive side show.

“your drunk caitlin, you don’t know what your saying.” you saying refusing to believe her recent statement shoving her only to make her stumble back a few steps as she was much stronger then you.

“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.” she says cornering you between the wall as shes inching towards your face intimidating you by the second.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” she breaks silence yet again as her eyes begin to visibly get watery but she refuses to loose eye contact with you.

“i bet you say that to every girl you pick up clark.” you ignore her desperate pleas for you to get her point across.

“Shut up before I-” you cut her off making sure your shouts are louder then hers topping hers not accepting defeat in the arguement.

“Before you what, huh? say it. Let me see if you can finish that sent-” your cut off by her coaxing your lips with hers startling you before you ease into the kiss.

you taste the alcohol on her tongue as her lips mix between yours. you both sit there for a second taking in each others presence before breaking the kiss.

“let me take you to your dorm” caitlin begs as her hands rest on your cheeks sneaking her arm around to your back pocket grabbing your keys from you.

“im driving, you cant so technically im taking you to my dorm” you say snatching the keys back from her hands. as you leave the bathroom after being there for at least 20 minutes catching some peoples eyes.

you and caitlin both get in the car with tensions still running high as she carefully places her hand on your thigh keeping her eyes on you studying your reaction.

your face grows red as a tiny smile forms on your face as you switch your eyes between her and the road.

“did you mean everything you said tonight” you said throwing yourself down on your already messy bed that cradled you in the tiring mornings.

“of course i did and you know that” she reply’s mad you would ask her a question like that as she has always adored you and made her weird ways trying to show it.

“alright im going to head back to my dorm” she said as she took your silence as a response turning around only for you to jump back on to your feet stopping her from exiting.

“no.” you plea as your body snaps up as your see her trying to walk away almost making you jump out of your skin from the sight.

“what do you mean no?” her voice almost silent regretting her comment instantly as she was worried you would change your mind.

“i want you to spend the night….” you say being returned with sharp awkward silence as a look of worry plastered across her face.

“in my bed with me.” you continue trying to reason to her why its a good idea as you pull the covers over you waiting for her to lay next to you.

“what, am i not allowed to look at you?” she coaxed as you got on her for stealing glances at you as you slept peacefully making her smile at the silly comment.

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile clark.” now resting on your side to return the stares as your eyes where fixated on her plump lips and her euphoric smile.

“this sounds like you’re flirting with me.” she smirks teasing you before passionately throwing herself on your stomach placing kisses along your tender collarbone.

“...i have been trying to do that for three years now.” you playfully hit her thigh before taking her beauty in giving her another kiss except this time was different from last nights, it was long and meaningful.

[aluciahaz]

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

[deerlino]

Could u please do streamer felix x girlfriend reader where like reader comes and sits felixs' lap while he's streaming while gaming and she ends up sleeping?

౨ৎ — dreaming in pixels ( lf. )

lee felix x fem!reader — felix, the streamer, and you, his girlfriend, have a cute moment during one of his gaming streams. you sneak into his streaming room and plop down on his lap. surprisingly cozy, you end up dozing off, surrounded by all the fluffiness and warmth.

additional tags — streamer!felix. content creator au. (domestic) fluff. affectionate. cute girlfriend. soft moments. twitch stream. 824 word count.

content warnings — no need for content warnings here. it's all about being affectionate, tender, and comforting.

author notes @ anon — a heartwarming streamer lixie fic! 🥹 i'm obsessed with streamer felix, so getting this request made me super happy. 💘 hope you enjoy it and have a blast reading! xo. < 3

You tiptoed through the hallway, a mischievous smile curling on your lips as you heard the faint sounds of Felix’s voice, enthusiastic and animated, drifting from his streaming room. You peeked around the corner, catching sight of him engrossed in his game, headset firmly in place, fingers flying over his keyboard.

He didn’t notice you at first, too focused on his screen, but you couldn’t help yourself. You quietly crept up behind him, placing your hands over his eyes. “Guess who?” you whispered, giggling softly.

Felix’s fingers paused mid-keystroke, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Hmm, let me think… Is it my incredibly cute girlfriend who’s supposed to be studying right now?”

You laughed, moving your hands away and leaning over his shoulder to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Guilty as charged,” you admitted. “But I needed a break, and I missed you.”

He tilted his head back to look up at you, his eyes softening. “I missed you too, babe. Come here,” he said, patting his lap invitingly.

You didn’t need any more encouragement. Climbing onto his lap, you settled in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he shifted to accommodate you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Very,” you replied, snuggling against him. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the screen as he resumed his game. His fingers moved deftly, effortlessly, and you were mesmerized by the way he played, so focused and skilled.

“What are you playing?” you asked, your voice a soft murmur against his ear.

“Just a bit of Valorant,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the screen. “The chat’s loving it.”

You glanced at the chat, seeing a flurry of messages reacting to Felix’s gameplay—and to your sudden appearance. “Your girlfriend is so cute! 💛” one message read, while another said, “Awww, our favorite streamer and his girl, goals! 😍”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Your fans seem to like me,” you teased.

Felix grinned, glancing at the chat briefly. “Of course they do. They have good taste,” he said, giving you a quick squeeze. “But I like you more.”

You felt your cheeks warm, and you buried your face in his neck to hide your blush. “You’re so cheesy,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t hide the smile in your voice.

“And you love it,” he shot back, pressing another kiss to your temple. His attention returned to the game, but his free hand remained on your waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns against your skin. The rhythmic motion, combined with the steady hum of his voice and the soft glow of the screen, started to lull you into a peaceful daze.

You fought to keep your eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of this rare, quiet time with Felix. But the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his presence, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed began to pull you under. You yawned, nestling closer to him.

Felix glanced down at you, his expression softening even more. “Sleepy?” he asked, his voice a low murmur.

“A little,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can I stay here?”

“Of course, love,” he said, his voice as soft as his touch. “I’ve got you.”

You sighed contentedly, your eyes drifting shut as you let yourself relax completely. Felix’s heartbeat was a soothing rhythm under your ear, and the sounds of his game faded into the background. You felt his cheek rest against your head, and the gentle pressure of his hold reassured you, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

Time seemed to blur as you hovered on the edge of sleep. You were dimly aware of Felix’s voice, still chatting with his viewers, but it was distant, like a lullaby. His fingers never stopped their gentle tracing on your waist, each touch sending waves of comfort through you.

Finally, you let go, slipping into a peaceful slumber, your breathing evening out as you nestled closer to Felix. You were vaguely aware of his soft chuckle, the tender way he adjusted his hold on you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

“Looks like she’s out,” you heard him say softly, probably to the chat. “Guess I’m stuck here for a while. Not that I’m complaining.”

The chat erupted with comments again, but you were too far gone to care. All that mattered was the warmth of Felix’s embrace, the steady beat of his heart, and the overwhelming feeling of love that surrounded you.

As you drifted deeper into sleep, you felt Felix’s lips press a final, feather-light kiss to your forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered. “I love you.”

And with that, you surrendered completely to the comforting darkness, secure in the knowledge that you were exactly where you belonged—safe and sound in Felix’s arms.

© deerlino (est. 120624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[telail]

☆- [7:26 AM] Waking up with Wooyoung

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Poc!Fem!Reader Tags: 1k wc, established relationship, fluff, suggestive, ateez scenario 🎧- PILLOWTALK by ZAYN note: a request for my pookie and current fave moot @kairoot hope u like it stinka. ^3^ - TAE

You had to move as slowly, and as quietly as possible.

That is if you didn't want to wake up the ticking time bomb next to you. Softly snoring with his mouth slightly agape, it looked as if he was in the deepest state of zen that an unconscious person could possibly be in.

But you knew better than to believe that. It was Wooyoung, for all you knew he’d crack his eyes open at the sound of a deep sigh. 

Your body had subconsciously woken you up without the help of an alarm about 40 minutes before you needed to head out for work.

Wooyoung lay still on his stomach, his head facing in your direction as his arm bent slightly above his head. Resting barley under your pillow but more so under his. 

You sat up and stretched, extending your limbs in the most subtle way possible in hopes that your boyfriend would not interrupt his own rest and wake up at the simple movement of your stretching.

Your hopes were in vain when just as you were about to relax your arms from their place above your head you felt warm slender fingers glide their way across the little portion of your slightly exposed tummy. Settling on the other side of your hip with a subtle squeeze.

The sensation of Wooyoung’s fingers tickled and caught you off guard a bit, causing you to jolt and bring your arms down in one quick motion.

“Morning baby..” He mumbles, a sleepy smirk making its way onto his face as he turned his head slightly away from you to yawn.

“Good morning, woo.” You respond, your tiredness still evident in your voice.

He hummed to himself, using the arm that had already secured itself around your waist to tug you closer to him.

“Hey..” You say, sighing. You were intending to start a sentence but when you moved to look at him you were met with Wooyoung’s tired yet love filled eyes. Making you cut yourself off just to admire his current appearance for a moment or two.

“Hi pretty.” He responded, grinning and resting his eyes shut for a little longer than a few seconds.

You thought he’d fallen asleep again, that is until when you went to move, his grip on you only tightened as he urged you to stay close to him.

“You work today?” He grumbled, opening his eyes to look at you once again. “I do.”

He whined at this, rolling himself over so that he was laying in your lap. He looked up at you, his plump bottom lip jutting out a little, he was pouting.

“Don't look at me like that, you know my schedule honey. I’ve gotta make money one way or another.” You said, running your free hand through his messy but layered blonde and black strands.

“You don't “gotta” make money, you just choose to. I make enough for both of us and more.” He negotiated, peppering light kisses over the scape of your navel. He’d rubbed his hand under the cloth of your cami so that the lower portion of your belly was revealed to him. 

“Call out,” He said between kisses. “Tell them you’ve come down with something and can't make it.” 

You sighed, it wasn't often but every now and then Wooyoung would get a break in his schedule and would want to sleep in, but not without you.

“I can’t do that, I’m fine. If I stayed I'd probably end up staying in bed all day.” You said, a small smile making its way onto your face as you thought back to you and Wooyoung’s last lazy day where you’d stayed in bed and cuddled, made out, and watched dramas all day.

“What's wrong with that?” He asked, lifting one of his eyebrows slightly as his body relaxed against his will at the feeling of your fingers dancing around his scalp.

“Everything when I’m supposed to be working.” You huffed. You tried to make a quick escape and shimmy your way from under him but you weren't able to get more than both legs off the bed when he clung onto you like a sloth on a branch.

“You know..” he started, a pinch of mischief in his tone. “I could really give you a reason to stay in bed all day. If that’s what you’re lookin’ for.” You groaned, fighting back a smile as you rolled your eyes and maneuvered yourself out of his grip. “I am not.”

He laughed at your reaction, loosening his grip enough to let you finally get up but not before grabbing your wrist when you went to walk away.

He puckered his lips expectantly, normally you'd oblige with his silent request for a kiss but you’d just woken up not too long ago and felt the need to brush your teeth more than anything.

You blew him an air kiss watching as his face contorted into that of disapproval. 

“I need to brush my teeth.” You said, suppressing a giggle at his offended expression.

“On my cheek then.” He said turning his cheek towards you, still a little puffy considering the fact that he’d just woken up.

You shook your head before leaning in to peck him on what you thought was gonna be his cheek before he turned his head at the last moment to meet your lips with his.

“Woo-” you went to protest and pull away but his hand had come up to the back of your head to gently hold you in place as he planted 2 more kisses on your lips then a third on your cheek. 

He pulled back with a proud grin, licking his lips as he watched you walk towards your shared bathroom, mumbling about him being gross.

“Love you too baby.” He said, stretching his own limbs and sitting up, preparing to mess with you throughout your entire morning routine until you eventually would leave him without you for a few hours.

He didn’t mind though, as long as you came back to him so he could do it all over again.

excuse any mistakes ;P

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART II: MY HEART DREAMS

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part III // part IV // part V // part V

wc: 7.1k author's note: ahhh tysm to everyone reading!!! your comments literally make my day and the taglist DAMN!! seriously I'm so grateful <3 also i apologize for this chapter being so long, i tried to stfu but it still ended up being 7k

One thing you should've realized sooner was that nothing escapes Sevika's notice in Zaun. 

You were barely a week into your new routine, legs burning as you struggled through your morning run. The only sound you could hear was of blood pounding in your ear—and the addition of a rumbling engine approaching from behind.  

You whip your head back, unsure if your ears were deceiving you but there it was, a truck filled with Sevika's scavenging team catching up, with Sevika herself leaning out the passenger window.

"Pick up the pace, pantry girl!" she shouted, her voice laden with amusement. "At this rate, you'll be old and gray before you join my team!"

Her crew howled with laughter as they sped by, leaving you red-faced and fuming in a cloud of dust.

Now, weeks later, you collapse onto the grass beside Caitlyn, both of you panting heavily after finishing your lap around the neighborhood. The memory of Sevika's taunts still burns, spurring you to push yourself harder during training.

Just as you're about to ask if you should do another lap, something ice-cold presses against your neck. You yelp, jerking upright in surprise.

A dark-haired woman hovers over you, a familiar smirk playing on her lips and a frosty water bottle in her hand. "Still jumping at shadows, I see," she teases. "I'm not sure I can use someone so easily startled on my team."

You glare up at her. "That's rich, coming from you," you retort. "Your late-night victory parties make it impossible to get a good night's sleep around here."

"Feeling left out? The invitations open, you know. Just bring your own drink."

"How about an invitation to join your team instead?"  You counter.

Sevika laughs, the sound was simultaneously frustrating and oddly captivating. "Maybe focus on not tripping over your own feet first, pantry girl."

After you finish your training for the day, you take a quick shower and make your way to the pantry for your shift. But as you approach, you notice something odd - your name isn't on the schedule. Again.

"That's the third time this week," you mutter.

Caitlyn notices your confusion. "Maybe they're cutting back on hours?" she suggests, but her tone is uncertain.

With your unexpected free time, you find yourself spending more time with your makeshift family. Family dinners were something you always had, but for the first time you didn’t have to worry about where or what your next meal would be.

Powder chatters animatedly about her latest inventions, while Caitlyn asks questions that make the kid’s eyes go wild with excitement. Vi listens with a mix of amusement and pride, occasionally ruffling her sister's hair.

Vander sits at the head of the table and he interjects with the occasional piece of wisdom that makes Vi interrupt to remind him that they were too old for lectures or dad jokes, drawing laughter from the group.

As plates are cleared and the conversation winds down, Powder asks to star gaze again, which Vander wants to say no to when everyone has work tomorrow. But then he looks outside and he’s reminded that things weren’t the same, you could afford the leisure to enjoy the skies now.

So you all move to the roof, continuing your evening under the stars. Powder points out constellations, making up stories for each one. Vi playfully argues with her interpretations, while Caitlyn offers more scientific explanations. You lean back, taking in the moment, feeling truly at peace for the first time in a long while.

As the night deepens, drowsiness sets in. One by one, you bid each other goodnight and retreat to your beds.

Morning arrives sooner than you'd like and you meet Caitlyn early, both of you squinting against the bright sunlight as you make your way to the training grounds. The morning sun warms your face as you and Caitlyn wait on the grass for Grayson to arrive with your sparring partner. You're chatting idly, speculating about who it might be when you hear approaching footsteps.

Your eyes widen as you see Grayson walking towards you, but it's the figure beside her that makes your breath catch. Sevika strides across the field, her presence somehow always able to steal your attention. She's wearing dark wash jeans that hug her legs and a sleeveless, tight black tee that shows off her toned arms with her usual red shawl draping over her left side.

Grayson offers an apologetic smile as they reach you. "Sorry we're late. There was a situation to handle."

Sevika merely grunts, barely acknowledging you and Caitlyn. Your heart races—if she was here to watch you were so screwed, there was no way Sevika would let you have a match without her snarky comments. 

"Marcus was supposed to be here today," Grayson explains, "but it seems he's... incapacitated."

You and Caitlyn exchange knowing looks. It's not the first time Marcus has been too drunk to show up, and frankly, you're relieved. Even when sober, he's a total ass.

"So... who are we sparring with?" you ask, though you have a sinking feeling you already know the answer.

Grayson gestures to Sevika. "Someone owes me a favor."

Sevika rubs her head, clearly annoyed. "Can we get this over with?" she grumbles.

Grayson chuckles. "She's just grumpy because she's hungover," she explains to you, then turns to Sevika with a raised eyebrow. "Which you wouldn't be if you didn't drink like it's water."

Sevika scowls, softly as she crosses her arms. "It's my day off," she retorts. "You never come to my parties."

"I drink on my own time," Grayson replies primly, adjusting her stance.

"You're too much of a goody two shoes," Sevika snorts, rolling her eyes.

You and Caitlyn look at each other in shock, from the fact that the two captains are bickering like siblings and they’re going to be sparring with Sevika. 

"Sevika?" Caitlyn sputters. "You want us to spar Sevika?"

"It's better practice for you two - Sevika has years of fighting experience. You can learn some new techniques today,"  She reassures. "So, who's first?"

"I'll get it over with," Caitlyn acquiesced, her voice steady despite the nerves you can see in her eyes.

As Caitlyn approaches the sparring area, Sevika reaches for her shawl. In one swift motion, she removes it, and your eyes widen in shock. Where you expected to see flesh and bone, there's instead a gleaming bionic arm. 

Intricate gears and pistons are visible beneath panels of transparent material, offering glimpses of the arm's inner workings. As Sevika flexes her fingers, you can see these components whirring and sliding with precision, each movement accompanied by a soft, almost musical hum.

Sevika doesn't react to the stares, her face stony as if this reveal is inconsequential. You feel a pang of guilt for gawking, but you can't help wondering - was this a war injury, or a result of the walkers? 

Caitlyn recovers from her shock like you do, now both of you feeling more intimidated by the strength and skills of the woman before you.  You watch as Sevika easily deflects Caitlyn's first attack, countering with a move so fast you barely see it. Caitlyn hits the ground hard, she barely has any time to react when Sevika strikes again.

"Come on, cupcake," Sevika taunts, using Vi's nickname for Caitlyn. 

The use of the nickname catches both you and Caitlyn off guard and she narrowly dodges a punch.  You had no idea how much Sevika had been paying attention to your group.

"Is that all you've got?" The captain says smugly.

As the sparring continues, you find yourself studying Sevika's every move. The way she anticipates Caitlyn's attacks, the efficiency of her counterstrikes, the subtle shifts in her stance.  

But it's more than just her fighting skills that captivate you. It's the fierce concentration in her eyes, the slight smirk that plays on her lips when she lands a particularly good hit. It's the way her muscles flex as she moves, the sheen of sweat that forms on her skin under the hot sun.

You're so lost in your observations that you almost miss when Grayson calls an end to the match. Caitlyn is panting, bruised but not beaten, while Sevika looks barely winded.

"Your turn, rookie," Sevika calls out, her eyes locking with yours.

Sevika takes a menacing stance, her bionic arm whirring softly as she flexes her fingers. You try to quell your nerves, reminding yourself of all your training.

The match begins, and Sevika doesn't hold back. She lunges forward with a quick jab that you barely dodge. Her follow-up kick catches you in the side, and you stumble back.

"With those sparring skills, you'll be dead by now," Sevika taunts, circling you like a predator.

You regain your footing, countering with a series of quick strikes that force Sevika to step back. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't think any walkers would be punching me back anytime soon," you retort.

Sevika smirks, effortlessly blocking your attacks. "There are still survivors out there, some who might not be as merciful as me." she says, suddenly dropping low and sweeping your legs out from under you.

You hit the ground hard but roll quickly, narrowly avoiding Sevika's follow-up strike. "I’m only alive because you needed the meds.”

“But you’re alive regardless?” She counters.

“Urgh, you're the worst, you know that? You just like watching me suffer-"

Your words are cut off as Sevika charges forward. You manage to sidestep, grabbing her arm and using her momentum to throw her off balance. For a moment, you have the upper hand, landing a solid hit to her midsection.

Sevika grunts, a flash of surprise in her eyes. "Well, it's not a bad view," she quips, her voice slightly breathless.

You're holding your own better than you expected, your training with Grayson evident in your improved technique. You even manage to land a few solid hits, each one making you more hopeful that you could finally prove yourself to the captain.

But Sevika is still Sevika. Just when you think you might have a chance, she changes tactics. As she unleashes a flurry of lightning-fast strikes, you are able to block the first few, but the last one catches you off guard, sending you stumbling back.

Before you can recover, Sevika is on you. With a move so smooth it seems almost effortless, she sweeps your legs again and follows you down. You’re on the ground immediately, the air knocked from your lungs, and suddenly Sevika is on top of you, pinning you down.

Her face is inches from yours, her breath hot on your cheek. "There's always next time, pantry girl," she says, her voice laced with arrogance.

Fury and frustration surge through you—at the nickname, at losing, but most of all at yourself for the way your heart races at her proximity. You struggle against her hold, but it's futile—you lost and couldn’t prove you were ready. 

The days blur into a haze of relentless training after the match, your body pushed to its limits.  Yet despite your efforts, something feels off. Each time you miss a target or fumble a move, Sevika's face flashes in your mind. Your focus wavers, distracted by unnameable thoughts that surface whenever you recall her challenging gaze or the smugness in her voice. 

The sharp crack of gunfire echoes across the makeshift shooting range. You squeeze the trigger, watching as your shot goes wide, missing the target by a good margin. Expaseration bubbles up inside you for missing yet again.

Next to you, Caitlyn's sniper barks and the center of her target explodes. Again. You can't help but feel a twinge of envy at her precision.

"Excellent shot, Caitlyn," Grayson praises, her eyes gleaming with approval. "I think I’m looking at my newest sniper."

Caitlyn beams at the compliment.

Grayson turns to you, her expression apprehensive. "Something on your mind? You seem distracted today."

"No, I'm fine," you mutter, trying to focus on the target in front of you.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Well, if you keep shooting like you did today, you can expect another month before Sevika would even consider accepting you on her team."

At the mention of Sevika's name, you can't help but frown. Grayson catches it immediately.

"What's wrong?" she probes, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

You hesitate, then the words tumble out. "I just... I don't get her. I don't know how to convince her I deserve that spot on the team when she's so infuriating and stubborn."

To your surprise, Grayson laughs, a warm, rich sound. "She hasn't changed since we were deployed together, then."

Your ears perk up at this. "You were deployed with Sevika? Can you tell me about it?"

Grayson shrugs. "What is there to tell? We were in the military together for 10 years and she's a brilliant soldier."

"That's all to her?" you press, not satisfied with such a simple answer.

Grayson gives you a long, appraising look. "What is it that you really want to know about her?"

The question catches you off guard. You open your mouth to respond, then close it again. What do you want to know? But more importantly, why do you want to know? You realize you don't have an answer, and the realization unsettles you.

Seeing your confusion, Grayson's expression softens. "Sevika is not the best fighter," she says quietly.

"What?"

Grayson chuckles at your expression. "Don't get me wrong, she's an advanced and skilled fighter. But she's not unbeatable." She pauses, her eyes distant as if recalling memories from long ago. "What makes her different... She is loyal and fierce. That woman fights till her very last breath. If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her."

Your mind whirs at this information. Who is Sevika beyond the soldier everyone knows her as? You find yourself hungry for more details, more glimpses into the woman behind the tough exterior.

Then you catch yourself, anger flaring up. Why do you care? Why does it matter who Sevika really is? She's just the leader of the scavenging team, nothing more.

You shake your head, trying to clear these thoughts. "Thanks, Grayson," you mutter, turning back to the target.

As you raise your gun again, you can feel Grayson's knowing gaze on you. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the target. But in your mind's eye, all you can see is Sevika—her cocky grin, her ruthless determination, the mystery that surrounds her.

You squeeze the trigger, and this time, your shot flies true, hitting just off-center. Progress, but not perfection. Much like your understanding of Sevika, you realize. You're getting closer, but there's still so much more to uncover.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

A slight breeze rustles the leaves as you wait by the usual tree, checking your watch. Caitlyn's late, which isn't like her.   You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes already and this was the Caitlyn, the one who’s never even been late to a shift at the pantry.  

You’re about to turn back to the house when suddenly you hear shouting from the road a few blocks away. Without thinking, you immediately sprint towards the commotion.

When you arrived, the scene before you was the last thing you would expect—Caitlyn and Vi were in each other's faces, their voices rising with each exchange. A burly guy from Sevika's crew is half-heartedly trying to separate them.

"You fucking liar!" Caitlyn screams, her face flushed with anger. "Why would you join without telling me?"  

You momentarily pause from trying to pull the fighting couple apart, in all the years you knew Caitlyn she had hardly cursed; Vi must’ve fucked up, bad.

Vi's stance is defensive, her hands raised. "It's safer for you this way!"

"Safer?" Caitlyn's laugh is bitter. "I didn't ask for a white knight, I asked for a partner that's honest!"

The guy from Sevika's crew steps between them. "Come on, ladies, this ain't the place-"

Caitlyn whirls on him. "How could you let her in Sevika’s group like this?"

He backs up, hands raised. “Listen, I had no part in this. Vi was the one who asked, and Sevika accepted her."

Caitlyn's face contorts with anger, and she lunges forward. You jump in, grabbing her arms. "Cait, stop!"

But as you hold her back, his words sink in. "Wait, WHAT?" You turn to Vi, shock evident on your face. "She accepted you to join her scavenging and not me?"

Vi looks away, guilt written across her features. Your blood boils. You release Caitlyn and round on the guy. "Where the HELL is she?"

He crosses his arms, defiant. "I don't have to answer to you."

You step closer, your voice low and dangerous. "Oh, trust me. You want to tell me."

He hesitates, then sighs. "Fine, but it's your funeral. She's in her garage."

Without another word, you turn on your heel and march away, leaving Caitlyn and Vi to their argument. You had your own annoying, lying woman to deal with.

The garage comes into view, its large door open. As you approach, you catch sight of Sevika bent over a motorcycle. Her back muscles flex as she works, visible beneath a black sports bra. Her jeans hang low on her hips, revealing the band of her boxers. For a moment, you were unable to comprehend the sight of Sevika in clothes that weren't military green. 

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before addressing her. "Vi and Caitlyn are out there fighting. I thought you should know."

She turns, surprise briefly flickering across her features before her trademark nonchalance slides back into place. "And that concerns me... how exactly?" she questions, wiping her hand with a rag. "Last I checked, I wasn't running a relationship counseling service."

"Because of all the bullshit you gave about me not being ready? Why won't you let me on the team?" you demand, your voice cracking with desperation. "You let Vi join. What makes her so special?"

"You don't know what you're asking for."

"Then tell me!" you shout, stepping closer. "I'm sick of your cryptic bullshit, Sevika. I deserve to know!"

Something in Sevika snaps—Her composure shatters, replaced by a raw, barely contained fury. "Fine? You want to know why?" She grabs your arm, her grip tight enough to bruise. "Let's go."

She drags you out of the garage, marching through the community with large strides. You struggle to keep up, confused and a little scared by this sudden change in her demeanor.

As you reach the outskirts of the settlement, Sevika slows down. You follow her gaze and feel your blood run cold. Wooden crosses stretch out before you, maybe 20 to 25 of them, each marking a grave.

"This is why," Sevika grits.

You stand there, frozen, as Sevika turns to face you. Her eyes are blazing, but there's something else there too - something melancholic you've never seen before.

"Do you know how many empty graves we have?" she asks, gesturing to the crosses. "It's a fortune if you're able to bring a body home, or if you can spend someone's last moments together."

She walks among the graves, her fingers trailing over the rough wood of a cross. "This is the type of thing we have to deal with. Every time we go out there, we risk not coming back. And if we don't come back, this is what's left of us. A wooden cross and a memory."

"I've had to bury too many people. I've had to tell too many families that their loved ones aren't coming home. And sometimes, I couldn't even give them that closure."

She turns back to you, her eyes now hard, and gone was the brief moment of vulnerability you saw before. "This is why I won't let you on the team. Because I can't... I won't add another cross to this field."

The weight of her words hits you like a physical blow. But instead of understanding, you feel a surge of anger.

"So what?" you snap, surprising both yourself and Sevika. "You keep me locked away like I'm Rapunzel in a tower? Look around, Sevika!" You gesture wildly at the desolate landscape beyond the settlement. "There is nothing left to lose. The world is gone!"

For a moment, she's silent, and you think you might have finally gotten through to her. But then her expression hardens, a bitter smile twisting her lips.

"You can say that," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "until you have the world in your hand and it's ripped away from you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You see a flash of something in Sevika's eyes - a deep, soul-crushing resignation that makes your anger falter.

"There is always something to lose," she continues. "And every time you think you have nothing left to lose, life finds a way to prove you wrong."

She steps closer to you. "You think you're ready to face what's out there? You think you have nothing to lose? Trust me, pantry girl, you have no idea what loss really is."

"What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?" you challenge, your voice rising. "This isn't living, Sevika. It's just... existing."

Sevika's eyes flash dangerously. "You don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand!" you interrupted, shoving her back. "We're all going to die—But I'd rather die out there, trying to do something I wanted, rather than rot away in here!"

You’re angry and you know you just provoked her but you can’t help but shove her back again, frustrated at her but, even more so at yourself.  You were terrified, of fucking course you were—but who wasn’t in the world you were living in? 

With a growl, she lunges forward, shoving you hard. You stumble back, shock and anger coursing through you. Without thinking, you retaliate, pushing Sevika with all your might.

The two of you grapple, a tangle of limbs and fury. Grass and dirt kick up around you as you roll on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Sevika's bionic arm hisses as she tries to pin you down, but you're quicker, fueled by frustration and pent-up emotion.

With a burst of strength, you manage to flip Sevika onto her back. You straddle her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, which fall limp immediately. Both of you are panting heavily, faces flushed and hair disheveled.

"I won," you gasp out, your chest heaving. "You promised. If I could beat you, you'd let me join."

Sevika looks up at you, her expression unreadable. "When will you learn patience?" 

The proximity is intoxicating, and for a moment, you're distracted by the feeling of Sevika beneath you, the rise and fall of her chest, the intensity in her eyes. 

"You can't expect me to live like this," you insist, your voice softer now but no less passionate. "What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?"

Something flickers in Sevika's eyes—pain, fear, or something else entirely. Without warning, she bucks her hips, throwing you off balance. In one smooth motion, she shoves you away and stands up.

You scramble to your feet, ready to continue the fight, but Sevika's next move stops you cold. 

"Sevika!" you call out, your voice cracking. "Don't you walk away from me!"

But she doesn't stop, doesn't even look back. 

You're left standing there, alone among silent tombstones and empty graves, watching her retreating figure disappear into the gathering dusk.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The weight of defeat settles heavily on your shoulders as you stumble into your room. You collapse onto your bed, fully clothed, as the scene replays in your mind. Sevika's face haunts you - not her usual cocky smirk or searching gaze, but that fleeting expression of raw pain you glimpsed just before she walked away.

There's something deeper, a hollowness in your chest you can't quite name. It's more than just the sting of losing an argument or watching her retreat. 

There was something else in her eyes that truly unsettled you—that flash of fear when she looked at you, as if dreading you might become another one of those wooden crosses she would have to mark.

Just as you're about to drift off, a sudden burst of loud music jolts you awake. Shouts and laughter follow, unmistakably coming from a few blocks down—right where Sevika's house is located.

You groan, pressing your pillow over your head. Of course, another one of her infamous parties. But as you lie there, listening to the distant sounds of celebration, a part of you can't help but wonder what Sevika looks like when she's relaxed, surrounded by her team. 

After an hour of futile attempts to sleep, frustration wins out.  You sit up, running a hand through your hair in annoyance. You throw on a hoodie and stomp towards the door, grabbing the nearest pair of slippers without looking.  

The cool night air does little to calm your irritation as you march down the street. You pound on the door, ready to give her a piece of your mind.

To your surprise, it's Sevika herself who answers. Her usual scowl morphs into a grimace as she recognizes you, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight of her throws you off balance—her gray wife beater clings to her frame, and her cargo pants are smeared with what you hope is just mud. Despite the mess, she looks... good. Annoyingly so.

"Do you know what time it is?" you demand, trying to focus on your anger.

Sevika takes a long drag of her cigarette and then blows the smoke out slowly. Her eyes drift downward. "I like your slippers," she remarks.

You glance down, mortification washing over you as you realize you're wearing Powder's pink bunny slippers. "Shit," you mutter, but quickly shake it off. "Why do you have to be so loud? This might come as a surprise but some people are trying to sleep!"

"Worried you won't get enough sleep to organize properly tomorrow?" Sevika taunts, leaning against the doorframe. "Make sure you don't mix up the soup and fruit cocktail cans."

Her dismissive attitude ignites your temper. "Fine, whatever. You're acting like a complete ass," you spit out.

Sevika's eyebrow raises slightly. "Is that all? Because if so, I've got a party to get back to."

You're about to retort when you catch a glimpse of the interior of her house. It's a mess—empty bottles strewn about, gear haphazardly tossed in corners. 

"What?" Sevika's voice snaps you back to reality.

"I... nothing," you stammer, taking a step back. "Just turn the music down, okay?"

Sevika studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turns and disappears into the house. A few seconds later, the volume of the music noticeably decreases.  Sevika.. Was being obedient? 

She reappears at the door, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Anything else?" 

You open your mouth, then close it again. What else is there to say? That her apparent disregard for what you want infuriates you? That her words about from earlier today won’t leave your mind? That despite everything, you find yourself drawn to her in a way you can't explain?

Instead, you just shake your head. "No. That's... that's all. Thanks."

As you turn to leave, Sevika's voice stops you. "Wait."

You pause, looking back at her expectantly.  You notice that there is a hesitancy to her this time, like you were fragile and if she got too close you might shatter.

"Wear proper attire tomorrow, okay?" she says, her tone businesslike. "And check in at the armory with Vi."

You blink, confused. "Vi? What does she-"

Sevika cuts you off with an exasperated sigh. "Do I really have to explain it to you, rookie?"

"Yeah, cause I don't get it," you retort.

"You're on the team."

For a moment, you just stare at her, unable to process what you've heard. Sevika refuses to meet your gaze, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.

As realization dawns, a wide grin breaks out across your face. Sevika immediately cuts in, "Don't think I'm going soft on you and giving you anything you want. This is an easy spot, but-"

You can't help the shit-eating grin that spreads even wider. "Thank you," you say, your voice sincere despite your obvious excitement.

Sevika just nods, her expression carefully neutral. "Yeah, okay. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

You nod enthusiastically. "Right. Yes. Thank you again. Good night!"

You turn and walk away, trying desperately to keep your cool. But as soon as you think Sevika has fully closed her door, you can't contain yourself anymore. You do a little excited jump right there in the street, pumping your fist in the air. Then, grinning like a fool, you take off running towards home.

What you don't see is Sevika, still standing in her doorway. She watches your celebratory dance with a mixture of disbelief and something akin to fondness. Shaking her head, she finally closes the door, a small, bemused smile playing at the corners of her lips.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The early morning sun casts a golden glow over the farm as your team arrives. The dilapidated barn looms ahead, its red paint peeling and faded. Overgrown fields stretch out to your right, while a rickety fence encloses what must have once been a thriving chicken coop.

Sevika's voice rings out across the coop.  "Alright, gather the chickens."

You blink, certain you've misheard. "Wait, what?"  

You weren’t expecting your first mission to be on a farm, much less to gather the animals. But your confusion is quickly overwhelmed by the sight of your teammates scattering, chasing after a flock of very startled, very loud chickens.  

"How do you expect us to get food?" Sevika asks, her tone matter-of-fact.

You turn to her, eyebrow raised. "Why aren't you helping?"

The air seems to still as everyone freezes, shocked by your boldness. Sevika's eyes narrow dangerously.

"I'm your captain," she states, as if that explains everything.

A reckless grin spreads across your face. "What? Afraid you can't catch a single chicken in front of your people?"

Sevika's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you wonder if you've pushed too far. Then, to everyone's surprise, she vaults over the fence and into the coop.

"You have a mouth on you," she growls, eyeing a particularly plump hen. "That's going to get you in trouble one day."

You hop in after her, heart racing at how she easily accepted your challenge. "Only if I'm caught," you quip back.

The two of you circle the hen, which clucks nervously. You lunge forward, but the bird darts away.

"You're scaring it!" Sevika snaps.

"Me?!" you retort. "You're practically harassing the thing!"

As you both scan the coop for a chicken that wasn’t running like it had its head chopped off, a voice pipes up from outside the fence. "They’re bickering like an old couple!"

In perfect unison, you and Sevika whip around, shouting, "Don't you dare say that!"

The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze, looking at each other in shock, and then it’s replaced quickly with a scowl as the determination to capture the chicken sets back in.

Okay, so barreling at full force towards the animal was not the way to go considering everyone was already filling their cages.  You mentally devise a plan to corner the chicken, gesturing for Sevika to move to the right while you go left. But as you both rush forward, the hen squawks indignantly and darts between you in a perfect straight line.

Unable to stop your momentum, you and Sevika collide, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. You find yourself pinned beneath her, acutely aware of her weight, her warmth, the scent of her body wash and gunpowder that clings to her skin.

Sevika pushes herself up slightly, her face inches from yours. "This is dumb," she mutters. "I don't need to prove anything."

"Mhmm," you manage, your brain short-circuiting from the proximity.

She grunts, rolling off you and standing up. "There's one last chicken," she says, brushing dirt from her clothes. "We better get it."

You turn your attention back to the task at hand, scanning the coop for that last elusive hen. The last hen clucks nervously, darting between the wooden beams of the coop. You and Sevika exchange a quick nod, wordlessly agreeing on a strategy.

Sevika crouches low, her movements slow and deliberate as she inches towards the left side of the coop. You mirror her actions on the right, creating a human barrier. The hen's beady eyes dart between you, sensing the trap.  

"Easy now," Sevika murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. 

The hen makes a break for it, but you're ready. You lunge forward, herding it back towards Sevika. She reaches out, her fingers just brushing the chicken's feathers—

A deep rumble suddenly echoes across the farm, stopping you both in your tracks. You both freeze, exchanging a brief, confused glance. In that instant, the barn door explodes outward with a deafening crash. Splinters of wood fly through the air, unleashing a horde of walkers that stumble and lurch towards you.

"Fuck! Run!" someone screams, and chaos erupts.

Your teammates scramble to grab their chicken cages, but you're transfixed by the sight of Sevika, who's inexplicably clutching the chicken she just caught to her chest with her left arm. Without thinking, you grab her right hand and bolt, pulling her along.

As you run, weaving between broken fences and overgrown crops, the absurdity of the situation hits you. Here you are, fleeing from a walkers horde, hand-in-hand with your usually stoic captain who was so dead set on capturing a single chicken she risked a few minutes just to get it. Suddenly, Sevika bursts out laughing, a rich, genuine sound you've never heard before.

"This is so fucking stupid," she gasps between chuckles.

Her laughter is infectious, and soon you're both giggling like maniacs as you sprint towards the getaway car. The wind whips through your hair, you look over at her and see her tiny ponytail bouncing, her eyes sparkling with unadulterated joy.

As you approach the car, you see one of your teammates dancing in the driver's seat, bobbing their head to music that was loud enough you could hear it from a distance.

Sevika's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is that moron doing?"

"Start the car!" you yell in unison with Sevika.

"Start the fucking car!" echoes from all directions as your team converges on the vehicle.

In a mad scramble, you and Sevika end up diving into the trunk together, barely missing from crashing into each other. The car peels out, tires kicking up dust as you make your escape. You twist around to look back, seeing the walkers crest the hill behind you, their grotesque forms looking like ants as you get further away from the farm.

As the adrenaline starts to fade, you become acutely aware that you're still clutching Sevika's hand. You both look down at your intertwined fingers and quickly release a faint blush coloring your cheeks. 

You glance at Sevika and are struck by the sight of her wide grin, revealing the charming tooth gap from the first time you met her. She looks lighter somehow, the usual weight of responsibility temporarily lifted from her shoulders.

"Maybe you should put the chicken in the cage," you suggest, nodding towards the bird still tucked under her arm.

"Right," Sevika says, quickly stuffing the bewildered chicken into a nearby cage.

Free of your feathered companion, you lean out of the trunk slightly, letting the wind rush through your hair. The music from the car's speakers drifts back to you, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the smell of the woods and the high from the adrenaline rush.

When you open your eyes and turn back, you catch Sevika staring at you. She's not looking at the receding farmland or checking for pursuing walkers. Her eyes are fixed solely on you, an unreadable expression on her face. In this moment, bathed in sunlight and the afterglow of survival, she looks different. Softer. There was no reminiscent of the super soldier you knew her as.

As your eyes meet, Sevika doesn't look away. Instead, her grin softens into something more intimate, more real. You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, a feeling you can't quite name but don't want to let go of.

The car hits a bump, jolting you both and breaking the moment. Sevika clears her throat and turns to secure the chicken cage, you weren’t sure if had imagined the smile or not.

As you return to Zaun, the adrenaline from your narrow escape fades into a collective sense of relief and camaraderie. The team works together to unload the chickens, and despite the close call, everyone seems to be in high spirits.

"Hey, how about another bonfire party?" someone suggests, and a chorus of agreement follows.

To your surprise, Sevika turns to you. "You should come," she says gruffly. "You’re part of the team now."

"Yeah, sure," you reply, fighting to keep the eagerness out of your voice.

As the team disperses to prepare, you notice Vi sprinting towards a certain someone waiting for her at the entrance. "Caitlyn!" Vi shouts, throwing herself into Caitlyn's arms and kissing her passionately.

You raise an eyebrow. "Well, those two made up fast," you mutter to yourself.

Later that evening, you find yourself seated on the cool ground in front of a roaring bonfire. The flames dance hypnotically, casting flickering shadows across the faces of your teammates. The air is filled with laughter, the clink of bottles, and the rich aroma of smoke and grilled food.

You're nursing a beer, listening intently as the others regale you with stories from previous hunts. Sevika sits not far from you, perched regally on a lawn chair. She's quieter than the others, but you notice her lips quirk up occasionally at particularly funny or outrageous parts of the stories.

As the night wears on, a cool breeze picks up. You shiver involuntarily, the chill seeping through your thin shirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sevika glance your way. Without a word, she shrugs off her shawl and leans forward, draping it over your shoulders.

The gesture catches you off guard. You want to thank her, but something in her posture tells you she'd rather not draw attention to the act of kindness. No one else seems to have noticed, and you wonder if this is just how Sevika takes care of her team—quietly, without fuss or expectation of gratitude.

You pull the shawl tighter around you, inhaling the faint scent of cigarettes and gunpowder that clings to it. 

The conversation lulls for a moment, and then someone pipes up, "Hey, remember that time at the hospital in Piltover when we-"

"Uh," another teammate interrupts, glancing nervously at Sevika. "Sevika’s here."

All eyes turn to your captain. Sevika just grunts, taking a long swig from her bottle. You can't tell if it's approval or indifference, but the storyteller takes it as permission to continue.

The crackling fire seems to dim as the storyteller begins, his voice low and reverent. "It was before Zaun was established. Sevika, Silco, Grayson, and some of us old veterans had been cooped up in the hospital for weeks. But it was time we got out, find new people and a place to stay."

You lean in, curious, sneaking glances at Sevika, whose face remains impassive.

"The hospital was completely surrounded," the storyteller continues. "But we had weapons and vehicles. Silco had this completely badass idea to add extra defenses to the ambulance in the garage."

A chorus of whoops erupts from the group, and you see a flicker of pride in Sevika's eyes.

"The plan was to pile as many people as possible into the ambulance. But in the garage," The storyteller's voice drops. "There must've been an opening or something. Somehow, those bastards found their way in."

You find yourself holding your breath while Sevika's face is impassive, but you notice her grip tightening on her bottle.

"It happened so fast. One second Silco was up, the next he was down, a walker lunging for his throat. And Sevika," He shakes his head in awe. "She didn't hesitate. She threw herself between them."

All eyes turn to Sevika. You glance at Sevika, trying to imagine her and the emotions in that moment. 

"Go on," she says. "Finish it."

The storyteller hesitates, unsure. "We had to go back in. We cleared the area, but the walker's teeth sank into her arm instead of Silco's neck." the storyteller says softly. "Even then, she didn't stop fighting. She bashed its skull in with her free hand, then turned and took out two more, saving a few more of us.  But the bite meant she was infected…"

There's a collective intake of breath around the fire. You feel a chill that has nothing to do with the night air.

His voice trails off, and Sevika finishes for him. "So Silco ended up amputating my arm," she states.

"When I die, I'll die on my own accord.  Not because some mindless corpse decided it was my time."

The silence that follows is profound. You see a mix of awe, respect, and a hint of fear on the faces around you as Sevika's words hang in the air.

Then, as if a spell is broken, cheers erupt. "Fuck yeah, boss!" someone shouts, and others join in.

Sevika just grins as she stubs out her cigarette and stands.  “I’m calling it a night, try not to have too much fun."

You remain rooted to the spot even though you know you should go give the shawl that's still draped around your shoulders back.  

As you’re watching Sevika’s retreating form, you're struck once again by how little you truly understand her. Just when you think you've got her figured out, she does something that shatters your assumptions. Her rare, genuine smile from moments ago was like a crack in her armor, offering a glimpse of something you're not sure you were meant to see.

You recall Grayson's comment; If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her. But Sevika isn’t just dragging anyone down—she's fighting, clawing her way up. She’ll endure whatever comes, as long as she’s the one who gets to forge her own path.

Sevika faced death itself, and she emerged victorious.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni @theacedragon0w0

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp

[jflemingology]

Breaking Point | Jessie Fleming x reader

In which: the stress concerning everything going on with the national team causes Jessie to lash out at you

Warnings: little bit of angst, if you can even call it that? Argument but they make up, fluff at the end :)

WC: 5.3K

A/N: Based on these two requests! Thought they were similar enough to be grouped together. Really enjoyed writing this, it's quite a long one too. Hope you enjoy! <3

Divider: @cafekitsune

You were just downing the rest of your morning coffee when you heard a notification come through on your phone. The clock read 8am, which meant it was 5pm in France. If you remembered correctly, Jessie had a tactical meeting from 4:30 to 5:30 so it couldn't be her. You made your way over to the couch where you left the device earlier. Your eyes widened upon seeing the headline from CBC News.

"BREAKING: Canada Women's National Team Coach Dismissed From Olympics Amid Drone Scandal"

Your jaw fell slack. You had heard a little something here and there from the spying case, but you didn't know it had gone this far. Jessie hadn't told you much about it either. Despite being in the leadership group now she tried as much as possible to put it next to her – focusing on the controlables; her football.

Being away from Jessie was hard. Your schedules clashed quite frequently; her being away for games or for camps, you being away for business trips with your company. You knew what the downsides were going to be about dating your Canadian, but you wouldn't change it for the world. On moments like this, though, when you knew Jessie was going to be put under enormous loads of stress, you'd much rather be by her side in France than on the other side of the world in Portland.

Jessie was adamant you stayed home. Going with her to France would've meant you giving up on one of your projects you'd worked on the last couple of months, and as much as Jessie would've loved to have you by her side throughout the tournament, she knew that this was important to you.

So here you were, back in your shared apartment in Portland, sat on the couch not knowing what to do. You went over the options in your mind. You could call her, but you didn't know if she was free right now. Texting her seemed a safer option, but maybe she would want to come to you with the news instead of you coming to her about it. So that's what you did, you spent your morning dancing between trying to get some chores done and checking back with your phone if you hadn't magically missed a notification in the last 30 seconds.

After what felt like ages, just as you were about to take a shower – you'd contemplated it for a good 20 minutes, because what if she called while you were in there –, your phone rang. You sprung up from the side of the bathtub and knocked your elbow against the wall in the process, silently cursing while crossing your bathroom in quick strides.

You grabbed your phone and headed back into your bedroom, accepting the call once you made sure it was your girlfriend who was calling. "Hi," you breathed out as you sat down on the edge of your bed. "Hey baby."

Jessie sounded tired, and you noticed how her voice wavered – despite the effort to conceal it. A silence fell over your conversation, neither of you knowing what to say nor how to tackle the subject at hand. "How are you feeling?"

You tried your luck with an easy question. As far as she knew, you could be talking about how she was feeling after Canada's game against New Zealand yesterday – which they won 2-1. You had stayed up to watch her game, the bags beneath your eyes more than worth it seen as your girlfriend helped Canada win their game with an assist and a great performance.

If she remained silent any longer, you would've thought she had hung up on you, but right on cue Jessie spoke up. "Okay. Could be better. It's been a rocky afternoon," you hummed, acknowledging what she said.

"Is there anything I can do for you?", you knew she would probably say no, but that was Jessie's way of coping. She toughened up, built her walls a little higher than they already were. You had worked really hard over the past three years of your relationship to meticulously tear them down – and most of the time she kept them down around you –, but not everyone was that lucky. Especially in moments like these, stressful situations, you expected her to bring them back up.

"I'm fine," she quipped back. It came out quite harsh, and it left you a little taken aback. You bit back a disappointing sigh. "I know you are, Jess. You're strong and I know you can handle these situations. But that doesn't mean that you can't talk about it," you knew you were starting to push her, but you also knew that if you didn't, she'd never talk about it and bottle it up until one time it'd explode. You'd been the dupe of that a handful of times, and you knew that you were better off pushing her to say something than letting it get to that stage.

"Babe, I said I'm fine," she paused but you felt like she had more to say, so you didn't counter her. Jessie took a deep breath before she continued. "I'm fine." You felt like she was leaving many things unspoken. Even though you didn't feel confident in what she said, you decided to leave it for now and enquire her about the rest of her day.

You sensed an end was coming to your conversation. A glance at the clock taught you that Jessie would probably have to hang up soon, because she told you earlier that she had a couple media appointments to attend to that evening. She hadn't told you what for, but it was more than clear what the reason was. Still, after 20 minutes of conversation, the subject hadn't been mentioned directly. As much as you felt like Jessie needed this break away from the whirlwind that it had been this afternoon, you felt like she was excluding you and it wasn't a nice feeling.

Just as you were going to say your goodbyes to each other, you interrupted her. "Jessie, wait. I know you'd rather not talk about it but I just want to reassure you that if you're ready, I'm here for you, okay?", there was no malice intent to what you said. As you told her, it was just about making sure your girlfriend knew you were there for her if she wanted to talk to you. And maybe, just maybe, you were hoping you could pull something out of her – but you'd never expected the response you got in return.

"Please, for the love of God, I'm fine!", you could sense the irritability in her voice and went quiet. Jessie rarely ever raised her voice at you, so her tone took you by surprise. "I've told you I'm fine plenty of times, what don't you understand? I don't want to talk about it and especially not with you. I called you to get it all off my mind and not talk about the bullshit that I've had to deal with here but clearly you can't even catch a hint. Honestly I don't even know why I bother with calling you anymore, if you can't even give me a break from my football."

Before you could muster up a response, you heard the sound of the call ending. You slowly retracted your phone from your ear, remaining seated on the edge of your bed for a little while before you came back to your senses. You had nothing but good intentions with the way you handled the situation, although you could acknowledge that maybe you pushed her a bit too far. That aside though, you didn't feel like you deserved her lashing out to you like that. You fought back the tears that were threatening to spill when you thought back about the way she snapped at you, so out of character and something she'd never done before. Sure, you two argued from time to time but it never ended up like this. You sighed deeply before pushing the call and what your girlfriend said to the back of your mind, finally hopping in the shower and hoping she would come back to you sooner rather than later.

–

Jessie let her body fall against her mattress after she ended the call. Deep down she knew you were full of good intentions but it hadn't done her any good that you pushed, and she snapped. She'd never snapped at you before, not in the way she did now. She'd raised her voice, not often, but that was something that occurred from time to time. But it was different now. Especially the way the call ended, it wasn't just something that would pass overnight.

She rubbed her hands over her face and stared up at the ceiling as she fought back tears. Out of frustration or sadness – she didn't know. What she did know, is that an argument with her girlfriend was the last thing she needed to be added to the pile of growing worries.

Jessie's watch read 6:03pm now, which meant that she had to go down for dinner soon. She grabbed her keycard and left her hotel room, taking the elevator down to the dining hall. She rehashed the conversation you were having merely 5 minutes ago in her head while the elevator took her downstairs, thinking about where it went wrong and why she snapped at her. Jessie's frustration settled rather quickly after the call and insecurity settled in, the realization hitting her that she probably overreacted.

The bell of the elevator pulled her out of her thoughts. She dragged herself towards the noise, mentally preparing herself to plaster a smile on her face for the next couple hours.

As much as she did her best to conceal how she was feeling inside, her inactivity and lack of participation in conversations around the table had grabbed some people's attention. Janine, especially, could tell that Jessie was acting off. She knew Jessie liked to take a walk after dinner, so when she set off, Janine followed suit a couple moments later.

She jogged up to her Canadian teammate who was trudging along the hotel perimeter. "Jess!", Jessie's head turned to the side upon hearing her name, offering Janine a tight-lipped smile when she joined her. "You okay, bud?", she threw an arm around Jessie who shrugged and looked down at her feet.

"My girlfriend and I had an argument earlier," Janine hummed, allowing Jessie the space to explain herself further. "And I think I'm the one that caused it.", Janine sucked in a breath through her teeth and squeezed Jessie's shoulder. "Dog house?"

She shrugged again, seemingly the only appropriate response she could come up with as she didn't speak further. "Wanna tell me what happened?", Janine tried. Jessie took a deep breath before she recited the whole story of what happened when you two were on the phone earlier, while taking a detour of the path she'd normally walk – allowing Janine and herself a bit more time to talk about what was going on.

"So yeah, that's where we are at right now. I sent her a quick message to check in after dinner but she's giving me the cold shoulder – I got left on read. And I don't know how to go about things now."

Before she replied anything, Janine couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped her lips. Jessie frowned and looked at her friend, confused as to what she found funny. "You're one of a kind, Jeff. Honestly. You've got a caring girlfriend that's on the other side of the world right now, and all she wants is to check in. She can't physically be with you so the only thing you can do right now is be emotionally available.", Janine grabbed Jessie's shoulders and halted them both, turning their bodies towards each other. "I know you don't like speaking about your feelings, but this is a serious matter, Jessie. This is not a silly subject, it's about your job. Our job. It's okay to be insecure, to be in your head, to be annoyed at the situation and to not know how the future is going to ensue. And it's more than okay to voice those feelings to someone – especially your partner. You've gotta let her in sometimes, okay? I know you're reserved but if anyone deserves to be opened up to, it's her."

Jessie closed her eyes and sighed, and Janine physically felt tension escape her shoulders as she still had her hands on them. "How about you fly her out here? Things like that are better talked about in person. If I remember correctly, the project she stayed home for was presented two days ago. Is her schedule free for the rest of the week?"

Jessie quickly checked your shared calendar on her phone and saw your free – granted nothing had been planned that you didn't put in the calendar yet. "Yeah, she should be. There's nothing in the calendar that she can't miss."

When she looked up her eyes found Janine's, who were full of concern. "Make it up to her, okay? Fly her out, talk to her about it. Maybe it'll give you a boost on the pitch too. We're all tackling this issue together, but it won't work if you get yourself into precarious situations like these. I know you love her, then show her too."

Jessie nodded, Janine's words convincing the Canadian midfielder to make things right with you.

-

From: Jess 🤍 "Hi baby, I checked the calendar and as far as I can tell you don't have any obligations at work anymore. I remember them telling you if you wanted to come to the Olympics for a couple days you could, so here's a plane ticket. It's for tomorrow and you would arrive in time for our game against France. I'd love for you to be there and have you with me again, and for us to have a chance to talk about things. Please?"

You had just woken up from a nap to Jessie's message. It was quite late in the evening in France now, way past Jessie's usual bedtime which confused you. She wasn't one to miss her 9 hours of sleep, especially not during tournaments.

You had ignored her previous message when she checking in with you a couple hours ago. You knew you were probably being unreasonable, but you wanted to let her know in one way or another that you weren't pleased with the way she handled the situation – didn't matter if she was under a big stress load or not.

You typed out a couple responses, none of them which seemed suitable to you. In the end, you settled on something relatively simple, yet would probably settle her worries around you a little.

From: You Thank you, I'll be there. Kick ass. ❤️

You finished up packing the next day around 10am and set off, your flight departing at 2pm which left you enough time to grab an Uber to the airport and be comfortably on time.

You arrived 2 and a half hours early, giving you enough time to check in and go through bag checks, making sure your gate exists before settling down on one of the free seats. You tried to kill some time by replying to some emails before you officially made an "Out of office"-announcement for a couple days.

The flight went reasonably smooth. Jessie got you a business class ticket – you always assured her there was no need –, because she 'only wanted the best for you'. You slept through most of the itinerary and when you woke up you let Jessie know you were almost there. The jet lag was something you'd have to deal with later, but all in all you were very excited to see your girlfriend. Argument aside, you'd not seen her for 4 weeks now and it was weighing down on you anyway – missing her embrace, her touch, her smell, her kisses.

You had booked a night at a hotel not far from where Canada would play France tomorrow, but far enough from Jessie's hotel to not be tempted to go over. The team didn't allow any visitors on the day before a match, and you knew Jessie wouldn't appreciate that either right now. Considering the energy between the two of you was still tense, meeting you now wouldn't be a joyful conversation for her, it would only add more stress to the load that was already on her shoulders and you wanted nothing less than to be an extra burden.

You spent your afternoon exploring the streets of Saint-Etienne, an adorable city where Jessie and her teammates would face France in Stade Geoffroy Guichard tomorrow. Soon enough the evening came and you ordered takeaway in your room, not feeling comfortable enough to go to a restaurant by yourself in an unknown country. You spent your evening scrolling through the French channels on tv, quickly realizing that the little French you taught yourself was way less useful than you thought it was. You fell asleep quite quickly after a long day of traveling.

-

Jessie woke up the next day feeling much better than before she went to bed, a whole lot of pressure off her shoulders ever since she knew you got to Saint-Etienne safe and well, and especially since she knew she was finally going to see you again tonight.

The usual matchday routine started for Jessie and her teammates, trying to dance around the ongoing scandal allegations and trying to manage the team without Bev in place. They prepared themselves as best as possible for the game and tried to put everything towards the back of their minds and focussed on the task at hand; trying to beat France in their second group match. The points may have been deducted, but that didn't mean they wouldn't go full on and leave it all out on the pitch. There was little chance, but it wasn't lost yet. And as long as there was opportunity, Jessie and her teammates would rise to the occasion.

Breakfast, mobility sessions, pre-match walk, it all went smoothly. Jessie had to refrain from texting you and asking what you were up to, but she knew that was a place she wouldn't come back from. She had always taken it upon her not to text you on matchdays, she liked her own bubble and as much as she wanted to break it for you on this occasion, she had something more important at hand tonight.

It was only on the short bus journey from the hotel where the Canadian team stayed at to the stadium when Jessie started to get nervous. She'd done incredibly well to keep all the nervosity at bay throughout the day, but reality came crashing down on her on the bus and she couldn't help but get a little anxious. It was the first time the Canadians would step onto the pitch since the scandal escalated. What would the reaction of the fans be? How will it be received? How will it feel to play against the home crowd? Jessie tried to ground herself by playing her pre-match playlist through her headphones instead of listening to the songs that were being played on the bus speaker.

Arriving at the stadium, it was easy for Jessie and the team to just go through the motions. Entering the changing room, getting changed into the warm-up gear, getting massaged or strapped by the physios, having an energy gel or drink – it was a routine that was engraved into their minds, no one in that room had to think twice about anything they were about to do. Some things came easy in football, and this was one of them. It's things like this that ground the team; the routines, things they could hold onto.

When coach called it was time for the team to go out for warm-ups, Jessie called the girls into a huddle in the changing room.

"Let's do this, yeah? We're up against the home team and their crowd today, it won't be easy. We might also be up against a whole lot more people seen what happened the past couple days. But that's not our focus right now. Let's go out there and show that we're pretty damn good footballers, yeah? I believe in us. In every single one of you. If you believe in yourself, we have one hell of a shot at turning this situation around. Canada on three. One, two, three..."

-

"... CANADA!", you only caught the back end of what the stadium speaker said, but you didn't care. Jessie had just scored the equalizer for her team in the 58th minute of the game, bringing the score back level and giving Canada a second chance of grabbing something from this game.

Jessie's mum engulfed you in a tight hug in means of celebrating her daughter's goal together. You high-fived her dad and her siblings, who were also in the family box watching the game.

You'd made it to the game just in time, Saint-Etienne traffic taking you by surprise as a quick Uber to the stadium turned into a 30-minute start and stop journey. You'd rushed to the family box, greeting Jessie's family before your eyes scanned the pitch looking for your freckled Canadian. Warm-ups were long done and the players were just about walking on the pitch, getting ready for the anthems. You noticed Jessie singing along, eyes closed while she took everything in. Your eyes stayed locked on her figure, waiting until she opened hers again. When the anthem finished, Jessie looked up to her family box and you couldn't miss the little grin that formed on her face when she saw you. You gave her a small wave which she reciprocated eagerly, then quickly falling back into captain's duties and getting ready for the game.

So now you were here. You were sure you didn't have any nails left, your leg bouncing up and down as the clock slowly but surely ticked further leaving the Canadians with little time to score a potential winner. The fourth official held up the board that said there would be thirteen minutes of extra time, a wave of excitement being heard from the stands from both sets of fans who believed their team could score a second goal.

Then, everything seemed to happen so quickly. Janine made a wonderful defensive move before passing a through ball to Adriana. She laid the ball of to Jordyn whose shot got saved, but the keeper had nothing against Vanessa's rebound. It felt like ages between the ball leaving her foot and the net rippling, but they had done it. They had scored in the 103rd minute and they successfully saved their Olympic group stage, giving them a chance at qualifying for the knock-out stages of the tournament.

You jumped up and down, no longer trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill across your cheeks. You found yourself once again engulfed in a hug, a big family hug this time. "They did it!", you screamed to Elysse. You could tell she was having a hard time to keep it dry too, endlessly proud of her sister and teammates.

Not long after, the whistle blew and the game was officially over. The Canadians made their way around the pitch making sure to thank as many fans as possible for having made the long trip from Canada to France. They took pictures, signed jerseys, gave away boots, until they found themselves in front of the family boxes.

They all started climbing up and over the barriers and made their way to their friends and families, as you took a step back from the group to allow Jessie to talk to her parents and siblings first. She got engulfed in many hugs, accepting the congratulations from many other people around her. As captain, she had led this team to a historic win and you couldn't be more proud of her. When conversation died down with her family she slowly retreated from that group and tentatively made her way over to you, a slight smile creeping on her face once you noticed her coming up to you. She stopped right in front of you, locking her eyes with yours.

"Is it okay if we talk about everything later, please? I missed you and I really, really want to kiss you right now."

You hummed in agreement and couldn't stop the bright smile from spreading across your face when Jessie closed the final couple steps of distance between the both of you and wrapped you in a tight embrace, digging her face into the crook of your neck. "I missed you so much," you could just about make out the words she mumbled against your skin and you pulled her impossibly tighter against you. "I missed you too, Jess. I'm so proud of you," she retreated her head from your neck and you cupped her cheeks, looking her in the eyes. "You've done incredibly well. What you did tonight is amazing. I couldn't be more proud."

You leaned in closer to her and waited for Jessie to cross the final bits of space before you finally pressed your lips against hers. You couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped your throat upon the feeling, Jessie chuckling and digging her fingers into your waist. In this moment it felt like you'd never ever been apart, her lips slotting perfectly against yours and bodies moulding together. Jessie deepened the kiss as you started playing with the baby hairs at the back of her neck, a shiver going through her body when she felt the soft touch of your fingertips on the sensitive skin. Before you could get carried away, you broke the kiss with a teasing bite on her bottom lip, smiling ear to ear as you locked eyes again.

"Go get a shower, you must be cold. I'll wait for you up here," Jessie nodded and pressed another chaste kiss against your lips, savoring the feeling of being together again and having you at arm's length, rather than on the other side of the world with a 9 hour time difference.

Jessie emerged from the changing rooms about an hour later, caught up in conversation with some of her teammates when she entered the family box. Her parents and siblings had already left, their journey to their hotel quite a bit longer than yours. You were waiting for your girlfriend while sipping on a drink you'd ordered, when she dropped her washbag next to you and put her hands on your shoulders, towering over you as you were sat down.

"You wanna get going? We're allowed to have a visitor to stay the night the evening after matchday. I've not been able to make use of that yet, so I'd like to do so now," you grinned at your girlfriend and nodded your head, excited about the idea of sleeping in her arms again tonight.

The ride to the hotel went smooth. Jessie came with the team bus so you had to get a taxi back there, which caused a dent in Jessie's wallet but you both went with it. The ride was silent, and as much as you enjoyed being in your girlfriend's presence, you could feel the air shifting. It grew tense upon nearing the hotel, unspoken words hanging between the both of you as you knew you'd have to talk about things later. You grabbed Jessie's hand that was in her lap and pulled it into yours, steading yourself with her touch.

Once arrived, you greeted and congratulated some of the other Canadian players who had also brought their partner back to the hotel. They were all mingling in the entrance hall as you moved past them, Jessie leading the two of you to the elevator and towards her room on the second floor.

Seen as the squad moved around the south of France for their games they didn't have a set hotel, which meant they couldn't really make it their own space. This meant that no home comforts were trickled around the room, something Jessie would normally do when she was away for multiple weeks for camps or tournaments. You let her unpack her stuff while you sat down on the bed, having quickly changed into something more comfortable and forgiving.

A few minutes later Jessie joined you in bed, ushering you both to lay under the covers as she claimed to be cold and tired, wanting to be in bed properly. You laid on your back as she cuddled up next to you, a big smile on her face as she finally felt the warmth of your embrace again. She pressed a kiss against your chest and let out a sigh of relief.

"How are you feeling, Jess?", you were well aware the last time you posed your girlfriend this question it turned out in a way no one wanted, but you were confident it wouldn't happen this time. Jessie shifted and positioned herself so that she could look up at you, a faint smile lingering on her lips. "I feel good. Genuinely. Better than I have been feeling the past couple days," you nodded, silently pushing her to go on. "It's been a lot but the game and you being here have helped me settle. Thank you," she pressed a fleeting kiss against your lips to accentuate her words.

You reciprocated the kiss, but pulled away rather quickly to not get lost in her affection. Jessie understood why you did and spoke up again. "I'm sorry about what happened the other day. I shouldn't have snapped at you," you soothingly rubbed her back when you sensed the nervosity that crept in her voice. "It had been a rough day and I wanted nothing more than to unwind and talk to you about other things, but when you started pushing I just couldn't bare with it anymore. I know you were just trying to do good, though. I talked about it to Janine and she made me realize that I'm not honest enough with you. I always try and bottle up my feelings, but that ends disastrous in ways like it did between us two days ago. I promise I'll try and be better for you. For us."

Her words were laced with emotion, her voice soft as she tried to keep the emotions at bay upon expressing how she felt about the situation. You wiped away a stray tear that had escaped her eye and was making its way across her cheek, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. "Thank you, baby. I want to be there for you, but you need to let me. It's a two-way thing, okay? We both give, we both take."

Jessie nodded, shifting again and now burying her face in your neck, soaking up the warmth of being under the covers together. "Thank you", she mumbled barely audible against your skin. You let out a chuckle at her words. "What for?", you asked. "Just, for being you. For being the person you are and for dealing with my moods. I love you so much," she lifted her head from out of your neck and looked you in the eyes before she lowered her head and pressed her lips against yours. "I love you too," you mumbled against her lips before you two got lost in one another and made up in different ways for all the time you had missed out on together the past month.

[luveline]

Jade, my beloved!! <3

What about reader going over to Eddie's trailer and Roan starts clinging to reader, and Eddie tries to apologize but reader absolutely does not mind at all and happily carries Roan around? (The way you write kiddos is so sweet😭)

omg YES thank you . girl dad Eddie forever <3 | fem!reader

You and Eddie (and Roan, his mirror image daughter) have been on one date.

It's not easy getting to know someone when they bring their baby but you'd figured it was the only reasonable option. He's gonna have her for the rest of his life and you wouldn't have it any other way besides, so you'd told him to bring her and you'd stuffed her full of chocolate cake. You'd wanted her to like you.

You might've done too good a job.

Eddie called you after the date — the next morning, to your delighted surprise — and told you how much fun he had. How he'd love to see you again. You'd enough butterflies to lose your mind and told him absolutely, yes, but what day's good for you?

So your next date is a week away. You're eager to see him again. You're excited to see his daughter, too, because she'd been lovely and sweet, quiet though she'd certainly known how to throw a tantrum.

Eddie calls you two days after the first phone call and says, "Listen, do you want to come over for dinner?"

"Now?"

"If you're not busy."

So here you are. Standing outside of his trailer home in Forest Hills Trailer Park with a teddy bear in one hand and a bottle of sparkling cider in the other, nervously shifting from foot to foot and wondering if maybe you should've brought wine. Or beer. But no, right? He has a baby. Kind of.

You knock and wait. There's scrambling feet, obviously smaller footsteps pittering over the floor and then a bang against the door. You flinch and wait.

"Hello?" you call.

"Oh, shit," someone says from further away. "I'm coming!"

"Shit," a little voice echoes.

"No!" Eddie calls, horrified.

Quick footsteps. The deadbolt slides free and the door opens.

Eddie's shepherded Roan behind him just enough to let you in. "You can't say that, babe. It's a bad word," he tells her, face hidden behind a sheet of messy curls.

Roan doesn't take any notice of him. She's stopped dead behind him in an actual princess dress. Tiny clip on earrings hang from her small earlobes and her dark curls are pulled up into dainty pig tails. Her lips part and expose the pink of tongue and all her pearly baby teeth, and then she screams.

"Yes!" she says, and throws herself at you.

Her arms wrap around your legs and her face rubs into your thighs. When you don't hug back she looks up at you with wide brown eyes, all her dad's, and blinks.

"Baby, you can't-" Eddie sighs and scrubs a hand across his jaw. "I'm sorry," he apologises.

You hold out the teddy bear and the cider and he takes both on instinct. Hands free, you lean down to give Roan a tentative hug.

"Hi, princess. I'm happy to see you too, and in your lovely dress! You look so pretty," you baby-talk, bubbly and light and very, very enamoured by the warmth of her small body clutching your thighs.

"She- I said you were coming and she told me she had to wear the princess dress," Eddie explains.

You turn your attention from your cuddle and find him as handsome as you'd left him last Thursday. He's dressed not nearly as fancy as he had been, though this feels more him. A band t-shirt, a pair of black jeans. His tattoos play stark over the length of his arms.

This is more like it.

"Yeah? Good, she should wear it. She's pretty as any princess I've seen."

Eddie tries to separate your clinger so he can shut the door but Roan adamantly refuses it.

"Up," she says, hands grabbing.

"Roan, Y/N doesn't want to-"

"Up please!"

You don't have a clue how to pick up a toddler so you squat down. Roan wraps her arms around your neck and squeals with happiness as you stand. The tulle of her skirt is scratchy under your palms.

"You really don't have to," Eddie says. He sounds worried.

You meet his eyes and try to adjust your hold until she's comfortable as you say, "Hey, it's okay. If it's okay with you?"

He's still for a moment.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's okay," he says softly.

You smile until he smiles back.

Roan pulls away from your neck to touch your neck. You shiver at her cold hands and rub up the length of her back. "Are you cold?" you fret.

"She just had an ice pop."

You raise your eyebrows at him. Dipping your head toward your shoulder, you fix your knowing gaze on Roan. "Is that so? What flavour do you like? No, let me guess..." You take in the purple at the corner of her mouth and beam. "Grape yeah? I like grape too. You have good taste."

"Can I get you a drink?" Eddie asks, wielding the apple cider.

Talking to Roan is a piece of cake. Talking to her dad is nowhere near as easy. You feel like you're in school again as he watches you, your lips curving into a funny excuse for a smile.

"Please."

He disappears to the kitchenette. You press Roan's chest to yours and search their living room for details, curious and hungry to know more about them. They've got a thousand things, not a lick of space between toys, so many toys, pinks and purples like a wave carpeting the floor.

There's a small square table painted pink outfitted by saucers and teacups. There are three chairs, two pink and plastic and one a wooden drum stool, and at each sits a teddy bear.

"Having a party?" you ask.

Roan nods at you. "A tea party."

"A tea party!" you echo, impressed by her neat pronunciation. She's precious when she isn't on her knees screaming.

"For Teddy," she says.

"Yeah? Which one's Teddy?"

She turns to the table and points at the pink bear with a missing ear.

"Why don't you finish your tea party, Roan?" Eddie asks, then says to you, quieter, "You can put her down if you want to."

You take that as a You should put her down now and start to bend. Roan wraps her arms around your neck and clings, knees digging into your sides.

"No," she moans miserably.

"Baby," Eddie starts.

"No," she says again, meaner. You swoop her back up toward your chest, worried she'll start crying.

You feel awkward because it's obvious Eddie is embarrassed by her showing off. She starts to whine loudly and he gets worse, sending you an apologetic look as he approaches.

You can hear the apple cider sparkling away in the glasses in his hands, he talks to her that gently. "Roan, Y/N can't hold you all night, baby. She wants a drink. You don't like carrying Teddy all day, do you?"

Roan cries.

"It's really okay. I don't mind, I promise," you say.

The 'I promise,' comes out ridiculous. Too warm. Too genuine.

Eddie beams at you, almost haphazard. "Okay, awesome, because she's about to go nuclear and I don't think we'll survive it."

"Does she scream?"

"Full nine yards, slaps her hands on the floor, rolls around."

You gasp. "No! No way, do you really show off like that?" you ask her sympathetically. "I can't believe you'd ever do something like that, you're such a sweetheart. Is your daddy telling me lies?" You stroke down her cheek until she laughs, tickled. "He's lying, isn't he?"

"If you stick around long enough you'll see."

You don't flinch. "I can't wait."

Roan giggles wildly as you tickle down into the crease of her neck. You laugh in response, completely infected by her joy.

"She has a really lovely laugh," you praise.

"She's not the only one," Eddie says seriously.

You meet his gaze over her bunches and wrinkle your nose at him when he winks.

He's a real charmer when he wants to be. You're just dying to be charmed.

-

more eddie and roan

[silhouetteonpaper]

Who’s To Blame?

Summary: When you show up at the compound with severe injuries, there’s no guarantee if you’re going to pull through. Even worse than that, there’s no one to explain how you ended up in this situation in the first place. Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Yelena Belova x Reader WC: 2,301 Warnings: Blood loss, wounds, mentions of killing, possible character death but I don’t want to spoil things A/N: I am so happy with how this turned out, I apologize in advance for the angst <3

The deep night sky outside Natasha’s window makes her groan as she rolls over to check the time. 1:35 am, great. Exhaling, she swings herself out of bed, too restless to attempt even another hour of rest. Something feels off tonight, and it’s impeding her ability to get a good night’s sleep.

Instead of trying to close her eyes for the fifth time, she chooses to venture out into the compound’s kitchen to make some tea. It’s silent, almost eerie out in the hallway as the dark cast of nighttime has settled. She doesn’t bother to flick on the lights, the soft glow of the moon providing enough light as Natasha lets her hot mug of tea steep.

The quiet sound of shallow breathing makes her nearly drop the mug, her entire body turning around with haste to see who dares to intrude. To Natasha’s surprise, it’s not an intruder, but rather a familiar figure lying on the couch just across the room.

She approaches, quickly seeing that it’s you sprawled out on the cushions. But you're not all safe and snuggled up against the pillows, instead she spots the blood pooling around your abdomen.

“Hey,” Her hands make quick work of finding the source, the mug now left for the cold on the coffee table. Your eyes flutter open, but it’s obvious they won’t stay that way for long. “Stay with me, I need you to tell me what happened.”

Natasha applies pressure to your wound, a soft whimper escaping your lips. It’s the last bit of energy you can muster, your entire body feeling numb and lifeless. She uses her free hand to cup your cheek, her thumb running up and down in hopes the comfort will keep you conscious.

“I need help out here!” Natasha shouts, looking behind her for any sign of her team. Silence. “Shit, please!” Her volume increases as she eyes your pale skin under the moonlight.

Suddenly, a half-awake group of heroes runs out of their rooms, your eyes barely able to make out their blurry silhouettes. “Nat? What’s going on?” Bruce questions, quickly noticing your limp body on the couch.

“We need to get her to the med bay, while she still has a heartbeat preferably.” Natasha moves to carefully scoop you up, but not before Bruce calls for her to wait.

“There’s no way we can get her there without losing too much blood, I’ll be back in just a minute!” And just like that, the doctor is off running. Natasha furrows her brows and leans back in by your side.

“Please, stay with me. I’m right here.” She grabs your hand, and you’re able to offer the lightest squeeze. Still, it’s enough for the Widow, a small ounce of relief filling her as she realizes you’re not fully out of the game yet.

“Do you know how this happened?” Steve’s voice breaks her focus from you.

Nat shakes her head, attempting to wrack her brain for any possible inkling on how you’d land with a wound this deep. “She said something about a last minute mission earlier, but she didn’t make it sound like a big deal.”

Steve tilted his head in confusion. “Nat, there were no missions today… I would’ve signed off on it.” Natasha was left frozen, but there was no time to think on it any longer as Bruce sprinted over with a case full of supplies.

The Widow reluctantly moved to the side as he began working. The entire group is on edge as he begins to tediously stitch up the wound, excess blood continuing to pour out while Natasha attempts to keep pressure.

30 minutes and nearly 100 stitches later, you’re finally stable enough to be moved to the med bay. The slow mimicked beep of your heart rate fills the room as Natasha sits silently beside the bed. Bruce informed everyone on your current state, assuring them they shouldn’t keep their hopes up for a speedy recovery.

Regardless of your injuries, Natasha’s beside herself with worry without any idea of how this happened. The sun is beginning to peek over the city when Steve knocks on the door. “How’re you holding up?” He stands at the edge of your bed, opposite of Natasha.

“I’m fine,” She breathes. “I just… I can’t even imagine how she could’ve gotten a wound this bad.”

Steve crosses his arms as he scans your lifeless state. “Last minute mission, huh? Do you have any idea what she actually could’ve been doing?” There’s no response at first.

“I wish I did.” Natasha takes a deep breath, the weight of the situation starting to fill her with guilt. Is this her fault for not knowing your whereabouts?

“Don’t do that,” Steve breaks Nat out of her thoughts, getting a confused look as she brings her gaze to him. “Don’t blame yourself.”

She shakes her head once more. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He’s about to argue back, but is interrupted by the sudden blaring noise coming from your heart monitor. “Bruce!” She yells, watching as the flat blue line creates a steady horizon over the screen.

It all happens so fast. Bruce rushing in, beginning chest compressions. Natasha yelling over his shoulder while Steve tries to pull her away. All while the relentless sound of truth hits everyone at once. The beeping goes quiet.

So does Natasha, but only for a moment. “No, no, make it start beeping again. She’s not dead, make it start working!” She’s beginning to shout as she tries to reach for the lifeless vitals monitor.

“She’s gone Nat! She’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do to change that!” Steve tries to calm her down, ending up in a near fist fight with the Widow as her grief floods all at once. He pulls her to the wall, both sliding down it as she begins to sob.

Her thoughts are overwhelmed with flooding accusations; it’s all my fault, it should’ve been me. But one thing swirls her mind like a tornado, blowing away the blame as it can’t change the absolute truth. You’re dead. And no one knows why.

The beaming sun lands onto the table covered in papers, each white sheet filled to the brim with various logs and charts. Natasha’s at the head of it all, flipping through each record and scanning it thoroughly before doing the same to the next… and the next… and-

“Nat?” Steve stands in the doorway of the office, trying to hide his widened eyes at the sight before him. It’s only been a few days since your passing—and besides filling her time with your funeral planning, Natasha’s also been caught up in figuring out the cause. What got you the deathly wound in the first place?

She doesn’t even look up from her tedious task, the super soldier finally walking forward and seeing for himself what’s got her so focused. “Damn, you’ve got every single comms record, mission log, criminal activity report… Nat, I don’t think-“

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She interrupts, refusing to lift her eyes from the stack of papers she’s holding.

“Yeah, you’ve been saying that a lot these days,” Steve comments before sitting down across the table. “Look, if you want to find out what happened to her, I don’t think you’re going to find it here.”

Finally, Natasha’s gaze unsticks from the pages. “Are you saying you know something I don’t?” Her eyes nearly widened with desperation, the need to find out what happened to you tearing her apart.

Steve takes a deep breath, wondering if it’s a good idea to loop Natasha into another research frenzy. “Not necessarily. Her phone was found downtown this morning. I figured if anyone is going to look through it, it should be you.” He takes out the mobile phone from his pocket, placing it softly in the middle of her chaotic mess of papers.

Her breath catches, the sight of any remnant of you making her nearly start to cry again. She only manages to nod, slowly reaching out for the phone. Natasha takes a second to feel it in her hands, the same sleek shape reminding her of the numerous times you made her take your photo, or when you’d hand it over to show a cute video. The reminder of your consistent smiling expression, it made a tear finally break free from Natasha’s stoic hold.

Steve leaves her to it as she reluctantly powers it on. The sudden reveal of your lock screen image makes her question if she really wants to do this, a recent photo of you and her making silly faces burning into Natasha’s tender heart.

Typing in the passcode is like muscle memory. 3123. 3/1/23. The day you became an Avenger. As all of your apps and notifications load into place, there’s no turning back.

3 Unread Messages

Yelena Belova

Hey, did you do it?

Starting to get worried… did you make it back okay?

Okay, seriously, I’m freaking out.

“She’s in contact with your sister? Do you have any idea why?” Steve and Natasha sit around the living room, a narrowed down stack of mission logs now spread across the coffee table.

“No, my sister’s really good about being vague over text.” Natasha responds, scrolling through your text history with Yelena for the third time, her heart racing no matter how many times she’s seen it. Multiple messages about ‘completing’ something, ‘following through’, ‘making it back’, it was all so cryptic. And there’s only one way to try and find out what it means.

“I think I need to call Yelena.” Natasha deduces, sitting in silence for a moment as she thinks what this could lead to. She hasn’t spoken to her sister in a few years, but has heard inklings about her whereabouts. Working under a new branch, doing missions for anyone just to get by.

“Do you really think Yelena could’ve been involved in the cause of her death?” Steve questioned. Natasha shrugged unknowingly.

“At this rate, I’m not ruling it out.” Natasha discloses while pulling out her own phone. It takes a few seconds for her to find Yelena’s number, the phone ringing for quite a while before finally a familiar accent sounds.

“Natasha,” Yelena answers, a weary tone seeping through even with just her voice. “I think I know what this is about.”

“Well, I’m certainly not calling to ask for my sweater back.” Natasha comments, sitting in the uncomfortable silence that forms after.

“Please tell me she’s alive.” Yelena’s fully worried now as she realizes the only reason her sister could call had to pertain to the lack of your responses from the other week.

“She’s dead.” Natasha states bluntly. It’s easy to feel the guilt flooding over Yelena on the other end of the line. “What did you do to her?”

Yelena takes an offended breath. “Me! She was doing this for you!” More silence sits between both ends of the call, but this time it isn’t awkward—it’s accusatory.

“What do you mean, Yelena?” Natasha speaks slowly. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”

Natasha and Yelena unknowingly take a simultaneous deep breath. “She… she wanted to eliminate Veronika Lebedev.” The name makes Natasha shudder, just as you did the first time she told you about this target.

Veronika, one of the handful of people at the head of the Red Room that made Natasha’s past a living nightmare. She’d confided in you not long ago about her experience, and more specifically each encounter with the walking grim reaper known as Madam Lebedev.

It was at that moment, Natasha felt the worst dread of all. Not because she was reminded of all the horrid things that happened in the Red Room, but because she knew exactly what happened to you. You tried to eliminate one of the strongest forces Natasha’s faced.

“Nat?” Yelena pulls Natasha back into the present, her attention suddenly fixated on ending a certain perpetrator’s life. But suddenly, her mind is no longer preoccupied as her sister utters two powerful words. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You're not the one that killed my closest friend.” Natasha breathes.

“Because she came to me asking where to look, and I told her. I shouldn’t have, I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known Vernonika wouldn’t hesitate to swing first.” Yelena voices, the sound of sniffling lacing her words. “What’re you going to do?”

Natasha thinks for a moment, all the possibilities swirling in her mind. She wants more than anything to kill Veronika, to avenge your reason for knocking on death’s door too early. But a part of her feels urged to just… leave it.

What would you say if Natasha offered to go kill her worst enemy in your stead? You probably wouldn’t be too happy about it, and that very same thought process is working it’s way through the Widow’s mind.

“I think I need to bury my friend.” Natasha decides, the lingering guilt leaving her to get you safe and at peace as soon as possible. That’s her real priority, not killing someone, not avenging, not saving the world, but making sure her best friend can rest easy.

“I think that’s best.” Yelena agrees, the two of them sitting in a more comfortable silence now. “Hey, Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to the funeral?” Yelena asks softly. Natasha chuckles slightly, the memory of you and the blonde meeting for the first time replaying in her mind. Endless laughter, constant jokes, and a bond that could never be broken. The same bond Natasha has with you that no one can deny, not even a sister. So who is she to deny Yelena that?

Natasha finally comes to an answer. “I think she’d love that.”

[ferrstappen]

unscheduled school visit l Max Verstappen

a/n: hello! i got this quick idea while working on some requests/school work. hope you like it and pls pls feel free to leave feedback <3 it really motivates me <3

pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader.

summary: the twins' teacher calls, the twins got in trouble. Max is in disbelief.

Max was a strict parent. 

Not in the way people may think, and not in the least similar to how his dad was with him, but Max always was concerned on how the twins were doing in school, only in first grade, but still. He was always working on instilling discipline and hard work to Luca and Mila, so in the future they can be whatever the hell they want to be. Max knew money was never going to be an issue, so it was up to them to take all the opportunities that meant.

He always tried to take them to museums when they joined races, often tried to switch languages, even encouraging other drivers and people in the grid who interacted with the kids to speak in their different languages. 

It was always fun to watch Charles speaking to Luca in French or Italian as Luca slowly tried to come up with an answer and was always met with a high five, or Mila asking Checo why Carlos had a different accent. 

The smile never disappeared from your face when you get home from running an errand or attending a meeting that couldn’t be held on Zoom, to Luca and Mila chatting about what they learned on school today or silently doing their homework on the family room while Max watched them, himself also getting some things in the meantime.

The point is the twins were smart, both you and Max putting all your efforts to gently and effectively find what they like, what they don’t. 

You know your kids. Both of you would put your hands on fire because of them. You trusted them because Max and you were raising them good and the twins were great beyond words could explain. 

So when you receive a call from school telling you to come over, you quickly reached Max who was on the sim, driving through Imola with his eyes closed. 

“Babe, school called and we have to go,” As soon as you announced the news Max turned around, seat and steering wheel lightly shaking. 

“What do you mean? What happened?” Max was instantly on his feet.

“I don’t know, Max. Their teacher called,” You told your husband as his eyes opened widely. 

“Their? Is it both of them?” Max was in complete disbelief of what he was hearing.

“It appears so. I’ll cancel a meeting and we go.”

You didn’t leave him alone for thirty seconds, you swear, but when you came back Max was on the phone, asking the teacher to put Mila on the phone. 

He knew his daughter too well. She was outspoken, assertive, didn’t think twice. Luca was more cautious, wise and maybe a little timid. 

“Pap, he was trying to pull Luca’s hair and stealing his crayons, and Luca was letting him because he didn’t want to cause any trouble!” an agitated Mila informed Max, speaking a broken dutch. 

“Are you okay?” Max calmly asked his frantic daughter. He knew she was disquieted, trying to sound more sure of herself than she actually was. 

“Yes,” she said in dutch, but in the back her teacher told her in a sweet voice to speak in a language they could all understand. 

“Okay baby girl, mama and I are on our way, see you in a bit,”

During the drive to La Condamine to reach the International School of Monaco, you discovered a side of your husband you had yet to see. It was fun. 

“She is not apologizing!” Max told you, eyes not leaving the narrow road.

“Max, she pulled the kid’s hair,” You reminded your husband, who softly shook his head in disagreement. 

“Yes, because the idiot kid was bothering Luca and pulled his hair! If anything that kid should be apologizing to Luca, his sister just defended him!” His lisp was more prominent as you reached the parking lot overlooking the several yachts.

Max noticed the other child’s parents already walking inside the school, there weren’t many students in the Early Years building. He pressed the gas harder than necessary, making the engine of the family Aston Martin roar like they were in the paddock. 

Your eyes rolled at his antics, but still it made your insides feel giddy at the thought of your husband being protective and loving. 

Luca’s arms were wrapped around you as soon as you walked inside. Kneeling to reach his height, your heart broke at the sight of his disheveled hair and wet cheeks, his beautiful eyes red. Luca tried to not sniff and stop the tears, trying to be brave when he felt your hands on his cheeks and kissing his forehead, asking if he was okay. 

At the same time, Max sat next to Mila whose eyes didn’t leave the other kid’s sight, whom you learned his name was Oliver. Max knew his daughter wanted to shed a tear, but didn’t let it show, so he just gave her a reassuring look before listening to the teacher who had the three of them in charge.

Curtly shaking hands with Oliver’s parents, Max politely ignoring the poor attempt of one of “the idiot kid’s” dad to start a conversation, obviously starstruck by your husband the World Champion. 

Yes, it was Monaco and everyone knew each other, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce the two Verstappen named kids on the class were the children of the Max Verstappen, but he was often away and it was mostly you who attended parent-related stuff, but now there was the chance to have a conversation directly with him. 

Oh well. 

The four got inside the car, Max adjusting the seats before getting in the driver seat. Mila and Luca loudly sighed, knowing what followed.

“I don’t know how to address this. I’m moved and proud that you look out and defend each other, but M, baby, pulling someone else’s hair is not the way,” you softly told your daughter. “and Luca, honey, I know it’s hard but when someone invades your space and is rude, but you can tell the teacher before it makes you feel bad and leads to this,” 

Max’s eyes followed the twins movements through the rearview mirror as you talked to them, soon reaching your home. You grabbed the backpacks and Max helped the twins get out of the car.

He reached Luca’s door first. When he was out, he left a kiss on his forehead and ruffled his hair, softly reminding his carbon copy that he was a little lion, still with lots to learn, but no one ever could make him feel like this. 

Then he reached Mila’s door. Her eyes now were a bit glossy, but he knew she was just like him, Mila would never show weakness. He reminded her that she can take some weight off, let her guard down with her parents before kissing her hair. 

You watched the scene unfold from afar, not knowing what he told them, but sure they were the right words.

Then giggles reached your ears, eyes immediately rolling. 

He was fist bumping Mila, giving her a nod of approval.

For God’s sake, this wouldn’t be the first time you’re called to school, that’s for sure.