#I apologized for it but I just need to know why this is happening

[adoredaqua]

NOTE: am reposting this cause something weird happened before, so uh, second try :) i was originally going to make this sorta angsty (like a forbidden romance), but i couldn't do it. Vi deserves the world, and ugh, i love her sm. she's not a "hear me out" but a "hOLD ME BACK"

synopsis: loser! Vi as your girlfriend

CW: popular cheerleader! reader, feminine reader, FLUFF, college AU (reader is in second year but Vi is in third year), modern setting, not edited, no usage of y/n, Vi being obsessed over you, academic weapon Vi

word count: 1 500+

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

loser! Vi, who is content with her life, has her family and a couple of friends. She didn't need anything else. That is, until she saw you at the library in the corner. You were sitting at her regular spot. Normally, she would be ticked off, but her heart simply started beating faster when you looked up from your textbook and offered her a small smile.

loser! Vi immediately left the library. She had never seen you around. Did a Goddess like you really go to her school? Instead of studying, she spent some time just trying to calm down so she didn't look so flushed for her next class.

loser! Vi hasn't seen you since then. Months go by, and Vi searches for you everywhere. She would go to the library, hoping to see you, but unfortunately, you were never there. She tells herself she should move on, but a part of her knows you're out and not just a figment of her imagination.

loser! Vi, who was forced to go to the last game for the football team. Normally, she wouldn't go, but Loris wanted to watch. She found a seat so she and Loris could be comfortable and not squished with others. It was near the front, middle, having the perfect view of the field and as well as the cheerleaders.

loser! Vi, whose eyes practically bulged out when she saw you in the middle front of the lineup. You're hair was in a slicked ponytail accompanied by a forest green bow. You wore a mini skirt and crop top, adorning the colours of Zaun Academy, green, white, with a hint of black. And, damn, you looked really good. She mentally thanked Loris for inviting her out.

loser! Vi is contemplating whether or not to go to the after-party at the sorority house. Everyone at school is invited, but Vi hesitated. You two didn't know each other, so why would she go? Also, you were probably going to be distracted by many others and would never catch a glimpse of her.

loser! Vi, who was pathetic and went to the party anyway, just to catch a quick glimpse of you. She wandered around the party for a while, searching both floors, but you were nowhere to be found. Not wanting her trip to be completely useless, Vi grabs a drink and heads to the backyard.

loser! Vi spots you sitting by the bonfire, drinking all by yourself. She thought to herself that this could be it. Finishing her drink for a confidence boost, she makes her way towards you.

loser! Vi and you start chatting it up. You're laughing at all her corny jokes and touching her arm while doing so. Vi observes the way you twirl your hair, which is now down and loose. You keep looking at her through your lashes, and all she can think about is kissing your soft, glossy lips. She finds out that you only recently transferred to Zaun due to an error in your application, so you're technically new.

loser! Vi is ecstatic to hear that you're single and like girls. Not that she thought she had a chance with you, but at least she can fantasize about you in her free time.

loser! Vi, who escorts you to your dorm. She apologizes profusely for keeping you out late, but you insist it's okie and she made going to the party worth it. As you both walk to your door, you turn to Vi, asking her out on a date. She was elated and agreed. Vi tells you she'll plan everything out, so all you need to do is look pretty, which won't be much of a challenge.

loser! Vi gets home and starts panicking. Now, she needed to plan the perfect date. To be able to impress you enough that you don't realize how much of a cute nerd she is.

loser! Vi asks for help from everyone she knows. She never thought this day would come, to get asked out by a pretty girl. Leading up to the date, she was so nervous that her family couldn't help but tease her. It was only fair, as it was the only thing Vi could talk about, you. Powder rolls her eyes each time, but is happy to see her sister focus on something other than academics. Vander was proud and even offered advice.

loser! Vi arrives at your place an hour early because she was so excited to see you, but waited in her car until the designated time she told you she would pick you up. In that hour, she fixes herself up. Fussing with her hair and straightening out her white button-up shirt, paired with black dress pants. She starts overthinking if it was basic, she decides to FaceTime Powder for reassurance. When the time finally came, Vi walked up to your dorm with your favourite flowers, the same ones you mentioned at the party. She knocked on your door, and once she saw you, her jaw quite literally dropped on the floor. Vi stutters out a compliment and mentally slaps herself, but you just giggled and thanked her. You told her she looked handsome, and you didn't think Vi could get as red as her hair, but she did.

loser! Vi makes a fool of herself during dinner. She almost drops the glass she was drinking out of. She not only dropped her utensils once but twice. Worse of all, she accidentally replied, "You too!" when the waiter said, "Enjoy your food." Despite all of that, you only found her more and more endearing. Maybe it was just her, but there was something about Vi that you couldn't help but fall for.

loser! Vi and you keep going on dates. Eventually, she asks if she could be your girlfriend. You eagerly said yes, kissing her with all your might. Vi gloriously goes home that day to rub it in her brothers, Claggor and Milo, faces that she got a girlfriend before them.

loser gf! Vi, who somehow got clingier after establishing a label. With each date you went on, she slowly got more handsy (with your consent, of course). It started with simple hand holding, squeezing your hand as a way to get your attention. Then, it was Vi wrapping her arm around your waist, her rough, calloused hand sliding up and down your figure. Every make-out session became more heated, as her desire for you grew stronger. She wouldn’t leave your dorm until she was reassured there would be a mark there to claim you as hers. 

loser gf! Vi wants to be in contact with you every hour of the day. Vi soothes you that she wants to know every detail that happens to you. Doesn’t matter how small, you'd better text or call her about it. 

loser gf! Vi helps you with your classes and homework. She saw how messy unorganized your notes were and rewrote them for you to help you better. Any diagrams that you needed, she drew them for you, and it was always colourful. 

loser gf! Vi wants a kiss as a reward after every study date. Don’t be mistaken, though, despite her insistence on being together, she will focus on her studies. Vi has always been the smartest in the class, but she had to work hard for that. You just became her motivation to do even better. Even reminded her that she needed a break. She always indulged you if you wanted a sweet treat; of course, she always bought it for you. 

loser gf! Vi and you are hanging out in her room. You were just going to watch a movie, and only focus on the movie, is what you told Vi several times. But she doesn’t listen. Not even ten minutes in, her hand is already on your thigh. You would push her away, but you just couldn’t. Next thing, you know you’re on her lap, grinding on her as she kisses your neck.

loser gf! Vi, who doesn’t hear the garage door and footsteps in the house. Before you could warn Vi of the noises outside her room, the door swings open to Powder telling Vi (and you) it was dinner time. You were hoping to have a better first impression on the family, but sadly, that’s not how it goes. That night, you stay for dinner after apologizing profusely to Powder, who says it’s okie but can’t seem to look you in the eye. Seeing you interact with Vi’s family, she can’t help but hope that this would become a regular occurrence. 

Bonus scene:

“Hey, we got- OH MY GOD!” Powder screams, her voice pitching higher than it ever has. 

“What is it? OH-!” Milo rushes towards her sister, alerted. Only to also be met with you on Vi’s lap, pulled apart. Horrified at the scene, Milo slowly turns away, nodding his head. Powder’s face manages to morph into a deeper disgust. She swears she just lost her appetite. 

“What’s wrong?” A distant shout from downstairs boomed. 

“We’re too late! Vi’s already eating dinner!!” 

“Powder!”

[theswordwrites]

but daddy i love him (part two, bedroom eyes like a remedy)

Summary: In the glittering decadence of the Hewn City, you're expected to play your part—dutiful daughter, perfect noble, soon-to-be wife. But everything shatters the night you stumble into fate: a mating bond with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 1398 tag list: @bookandtealover @tele86 @sour-patxch @willowpains @ladyescapism @oldernotwiser26

The weeks passed, and the aching in your chest only worsened.

Gnawing, incessant, cruel. The bond pulled on every rib, every muscle, with every beat of your heart. Like a phantom touch you couldn’t escape.

You had heard the stories—rumors whispered between wine glasses and behind closed doors—of what happened to those who denied the mating bond. The slow descent into madness. The way it festered, like rot in the soul. You hadn’t believed it, not really.

But now, you knew.

Sleep had become a stranger. You tossed and turned, caught somewhere between longing and fury, your thoughts always returning to him. Azriel. His name a curse and a comfort in equal measure.

You spent your days looking into shadowed corners, your mind conjuring up hallucinations in your peripheral vision.

He had been so infuriatingly beautiful in the moonlight. Eyes unreadable, voice quiet, kind. Not soft, no, there was too much power in him for that. But steady. Steady in a way that felt like safety. Every word from his lips had been a promise. And worse, you believed him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your fiancé without bile rising in your throat. Not that he noticed. He rarely looked at you at all, too busy indulging whatever courtesan had caught his eye this week.

You didn’t feel guilty. How could you, when there had never been anything real between you?

He sat across the table now, three glasses of fae wine in and wearing it clearly. His arm slung carelessly over the back of his chair, his attention fixed on the conversation—and the pretty serving girl lingering nearby.

Your father sat beside him, murmuring with another colleague, their words low and meaningless.

There was no love at this table. No connection. No trust.

Just obligation and performance. Masks and shadows.

You wondered what dinners would be like with Azriel. With his family.

Would they welcome you? Pull you close and call you theirs?

You didn’t know. You didn’t know him, not really, and certainly not your High Lord or the rest of his Inner Circle.

But that bond still pulsed in your chest, steady and sure as your heartbeat. Undeniable.

You pushed your chair back abruptly, fists clenched at your sides. You needed a moment to take a breath, still your mind. You needed to go anywhere but here.

“I—I need to go,” you stammered. “I don’t feel well. My apologies.”

Your face flushed, humiliated by your own lack of decorum, but no one stopped you.

With the most graceful nod you could muster, you slipped away from the table, your pace quickening down the hall and to your door.

Your heart thundered. Your chest ached.

And Azriel was waiting in your room.

Shadows clung to him like a second skin, and his eyes moved slowly over your shelves—your books, your things, your life. He turned at the sound of the door, shadows retreating just slightly, gaze raking over you like he hadn’t seen you in years.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered, breathless from more than the walk.

“I had to see you,” he said quietly.

His voice was rough, too rough for a casual visit. His eyes didn’t just look at you— they devoured.

“Why?” you asked, throat tight.

“I can feel you,” he murmured, voice hushed like he didn’t want to admit it—even to himself. “Through the bond. I can feel you, and I… I had to see you. Had to know if you were alright.”

The words struck something deep inside you, cracked it open. Like he’d peeled you back without permission, exposed something you hadn’t even realized was hidden.

The idea that he could feel you, your dread, your restlessness, your ache, was dizzying.

Violating. Comforting. A contradiction you didn’t know how to name.

“Oh,” you breathed.

It was all you could manage. Azriel didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just looked at you like you were a question he didn’t know how to answer.

Like he wanted to answer.

“I felt you leave the table,” he added softly. “It was like someone pulled a thread in my chest. And when you started to panic—”

He cut himself off, jaw flexing. “I didn’t know what they’d done to you. I just knew you needed to breathe.”

You swallowed hard, hands twisting in your skirts. “I’m okay. I-It was just a dinner,” you managed to say.

Azriel took a step forward and your breath caught.

Another step, and you moved back, just slightly. Barely an inch, but it was enough. His eyes tracked the motion, dark and unreadable, catching the flicker of retreat. You wanted him closer—Gods, you ached for it—but the moment he moved, something in you flinched. You were engaged. Your fiancé and your family were just down the hall.

This was dangerous. Reckless.

And yet, your body betrayed you—frozen between fight and surrender, between duty and desire.

“I’m not going to touch you,” he said gently, like he didn’t want to startle you. “Not unless you ask me to.”

That should have comforted you. It didn’t. It only made the space between you feel heavier. Charged.

He took another step.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, voice quieter now, more shadow than sound. “Why are you shaking?”

You didn’t know. Or maybe you did and couldn’t admit it.

Because he was here. Because he saw you. Because part of you had dreamed of this and hated yourself for it.

Because standing this close to him made the bond hum like a live wire beneath your skin.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” you whispered.

Azriel stilled. His shadows curled tighter around him, like they, too, were waiting.

“I don’t know what to do with this.”

His gaze dropped to your chest, where your hand had unconsciously drifted to where that invisible bond thrummed steady beneath your palm.

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “Just say the word.”

“No,” you said, the words falling from your lips without a thought, “You don’t have to go.”

Azriel’s gaze stayed locked on yours, the air thick and heavy between you. His steps were slow, deliberate. Closer, until you could feel the brush of his breath, the quiet hum of his shadows like a pulse against your skin.

And still, he didn’t touch you. Didn’t dare.

But you did.

Your fingers moved before you could stop them, reaching out, curling around the worn leather of his gloved hand. The contact was slight, fleeting, but it lit through you like fire catching dry tinder. His breath hitched. His eyes—Mother above, those eyes—darkened to something almost unbearable.

The bond roared to life, uncoiling inside you with greedy satisfaction.

Like a held breath finally released.

Azriel’s throat bobbed, his jaw working as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His other hand rose slowly, so slowly, toward your cheek—hesitating just inches away, waiting for permission he didn’t need to ask for.

You wanted to lean into it. You almost did.

But your breath caught, sharp and strangled, and everything came crashing back.

The weight of your family. The ring on your finger. The man waiting down the hall.

You jerked back like you’d been burned, releasing his hand as though it had scalded you. Your chest heaved, panic crowding your throat.

“I—I can’t do this,” you choked. Your voice broke on the last word. You shook your head hard, backing away from him as if distance could muffle the bond clawing at your ribs. “I shouldn’t.”

Azriel’s expression shattered with raw, unguarded pain flashing across his face before his mask slammed back into place. His shadows curled tighter, as if to shield him from the blow you’d just dealt.

“I understand,” he rasped, voice rough. “I understand.”

A sharp, sudden knock cracked through the room. You both froze.

“Darling?” Your fiancé’s voice, slurred faintly from wine, slipped under the door. “You’ve been gone too long.” A pause. “Are you alright?”

Azriel didn’t move, but his shadows lifted slightly, ready to make a quick escape.

You swallowed hard, smoothing your skirts with shaking hands.

“I’m fine,” you called back, forcing steadiness into your tone. “I’ll be right there.”

By the time you turned back to Azriel—he was gone. Only a lingering curl of shadow remained, dissolving into nothing.

And the hollow in your chest felt cavernous.

[johamfated]

Harry nodded in acknowledgement of Dumbledore's words. But he didn't really accept them. Why should he be apologising for something he didn't do. Why should Harry be expecting an apology at all?

"I don't need apologies." Harry said simply, "I don't want them. Not from you. Not from him - my you. The only person to blame in all this is Tom Riddle. And he got what was coming to him in the end. Even if it did cost me personally. But I'm not bitter. Not really. I'm just tired and bored."

He looked up from his empty glass, which he'd more or less speaking to for the last five or ten minutes. "And if I'm being truthful, I suppose I am kind of angry. With you- with him, for leaving me. And I hate Grindel -" Harry stops for almost slipping up, "I hate him too, because he's to blame, in the end, for what happened to my Headmaster." Harry's tone takes on a bitterness, "I think I hate him more than anyone. I know it must sound irrational, as I never even met him. Well, not in person. I saw him through Tom. But from the moment I realised what relationship you'd had with him...when I read your letters..." Harry stops, his fists balling up, and he realises that he's sounding a little jealous. Which is ridiculous, so he just stops. He doesn't continue his sentence. Grindelwald isn't worth the energy it takes to hate someone. "In the end, he didn't get you either."

@regretismyconstantcompanion

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace that was across from him. The crackling of the flames was the only sound breaking the silence in the cottage that was nestled in the Scottish Highlands. It was isolated, miles away from even the nearest village. He had chosen it for that very reason, desperate for solitude even if it wasn't something that had been forced upon him. He had lost the duel against Grindelwald. He had known that had always been a possibility. There were equals after all and had known each other painfully well. They had spent that summer duelling, friendly but pushing each others boundaries. They had grown and changed and become more powerful but their tendencies had lingered. The fight had lasted well over an hour but in the end, Gellert had just gotten the better of him and managed to disarm him and send him flying backwards. His only minor consolation was the fight had left them both panting and injured. But it had been clear who the winner was. There was no backing out of the agreement they had made. His time in Nurmengard had been brief. A chance to recover from the duel before Gellert gave him an ultimatum. He could remain free if he agreed to leave Hogwarts and retreat from the Wizarding World. Albus had already known he would leave the school, for certainly he had lost that right when he had failed his students and the Wizarding World as a whole. He had agreed, knowing Gellert wasn't giving him a choice and not agreeing would result in either his death or being imprisoned in Nurmengard forever or the deaths of those he cared about. And so here he was, over a year after the duel. Staring into the fire, sitting beside a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Books had been removed from the overflowing bookshelves, scattered around the room. Some had been read, some he hadn't even yet opened. Plain parchment piled up on the desk. Few knew where he was and so letters came rarely. He had picked some of the fruit and vegetables he grew in a small garden he tended to. Perhaps he would make some jams and chutneys if he could find the strength and motivation. It came sometimes, mixed in with the heavy weight of despair that seemed to fill his waking hours. He had failed. He had let down the wizarding world and now he banished just beyond the world he loved so much. He knew what was happening there, of course. He did his best to learn of Gellerts ongoing plans and rise to power. Without him there, there was nothing to stop him. He knew the few Ministries that still existed moved against him but it wouldn't take much for them to fall. Everything would be lost then and Albus knew he was powerless to stop it. @johamfated

[ysrjune]

i need a SCOTT/ SAM TWINS X READER ASAP

maybe smth like sam was seen with alyssa and scott was seen with shelby WHILE THEY SLEPT WITH READER (or dating reader) so y/n makes them PAYYYY UPPPPPPPPPP purrrr

or any other twin story cuz i realllyyy need them so badly rn

* GIRL YOU GOTTA SHOW ME ᐟ # 🪻

sorry I put this off so long I wasn't sure how to write it but here it is scrumptious 💋

edit: so I um wrote the first paragraph on Saturday but after the cut, it gets STRAIGHT to the point because im too lazy to think of anything else to say + I feel like a lot of the stuff I write is the same exact thing + I feel bad not getting to this for a week.. IM SORRY

uh this is more about scott cause what I wrote.. WOAH. never written about that before. trying something new. anyway I feel like scott WOULDNT like this but sam would, so he's not the one really being punished yk? PLEASE COMMENT AND LMK WHAT U THINK OF THIS!

"Neither of us is even dating you." Scott scoffs. "I dunno about you," He looks at his brother. "But I'm not gonna let some chick I slept with once, tell me who I can and can't see." The blond rolls his eyes. He was wrong. He was definitely gonna let you boss him around, but you needed to show him that you actually could. Scott is so fucking stubborn all the time it's so annoying. He was even worse than his brother, and that says more than enough. Sam is such a little bitch too.

Scott whines as you slap his cock over and over again. "That hurts!" His voice was high pitched and his eyebrows were knitted together. "Should have thought about the consequences of acting like a brat." She rolls her eyes and slaps it once more—harder than the other times. "I'm sorry I'm sorry," He whimpers. "I'll be good. Just stop slappin' it around like it's some sort of toy." He pants and makes eye contact with Sam.

Sam was holding back a smile. Seeing his brother being put in his place for once was awesome. He wasn't looking at his dick though, that would be really gay and sooo weird. "Should have kept your big louth shut, huh Scotty?" The pasty teen shakes his head. "What. A. Shame."

"Don't think you're not getting it either." She gazes over to Sam.

"What?!" Sam scoffs. "I didn't do anything!"

"You lied to Alyssa. You said you've never done anything with a girl. I'll let you know now.. Alyssa and I are friends."

Sam's heart drops. No way. No way you two are friends. You just.. let him go hook up with your friend? After doing the nastiest things with YOU?

"Thats kind of skankish." He mumbles and tongues his piercing. "What the hell am I getting in trouble for? I didn't know you were friends, you didn't tell me."

"You lied to her about being a virgin. I don't appreciate you lying to my friend."

Sam groaned. He pretended like getting his cock slapped was the worst thing that could ever happen to him because it doesn't feel good! But you both knew he was putting on an act. He's a little freak. He's probably dreamed of getting his dick smacked repeatedly.

While this whole conversation between you and the other twin was going on, you didn't stop torturing the blond. Unlike his brother, he hated this. It hurt so damn bad. Didn't feel good in the slightest way. "please stop. i-i'll stop giving you attitude."

"Liar." She rolls her eyes and smacks his cheek, causing him to whine at the sharp sting. "You're only saying that because you want it to stop. I want you to apologize to me, and you better make it good."

He whined and mouthed off about how this is so stupid and that he'd never apologize to you. He didn't owe you an apology. Does he know he could easily put an end to this? Duh.. but he's letting it happen. Why? He doesn't know. Its definitely not because he likes it. His cheeks were red and his eyes were pouring tears.

So what was the deal? Scott Monroe loves to get put in his place.

"I won't talk b-hhuuh.." He squeezes his eyes shut. "back.. I'll-mmh!!" Scott continues to whine as you hit him. "I won't be a brat anymore, fuck! Just stop. Please stop. You're hurting me." He manages to say without any other cries.

Now, it was Sam's turn.

Scott rested his cheek on your thigh, laying on his side on your bed. His left hand was caressing your knee. Your left hand was caressing his cheek meanwhile your right was slapping Sam's cock.

He hisses, laying back on his elbows, watching how you repeatedly beat him. "Fuck.. that feels great." Freak. He got way too into it.. he tried to take your wrist and fuck into your hand. Well, actually, he did do that.. you let him work himself up. Before he came, you removed your hand and he was pissed.

And unexpectedly, he was able to cum with one more hit to his cock.

"We should do this again sometime." Sam smirks. "Don't you think it's a good idea Scott? Wasn't that so much fun?"

Scott gazes at his brother. "Mm-mm." He hums like a child and hides his face back into your thigh. Honestly, you liked when he got like this. He was gonna be so sweet and touchy the rest of the night.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Request! Wondering if you could do steve rogers/reader where reader is his gf/wife that none of the avengers know about but end up finding out?? (Like Clint hiding his family) thank you!!

Not A Secret Anymore » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife/Pregnant!Reader with the Avengers

Summary: Steve kept you and yours and his unborn child a secret to protect you guy, but the Avengers end up finding out about you and the baby.

Warnings: Fluff, language, secret relationship, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

A/N #2: Italic text is Steve’s vision when Wanda manipulates his mind.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

“When do you think you’re coming home?” You asked Steve on the phone.

“Hopefully tomorrow. I’ll text you before I come home.” Steve tells you. “Make sure our little one protects you till then.” He smiles.

“We love you, Stevie.” You smiled, putting your free hand on your 2 month pregnant belly.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He says.

Clint happened to be walking by Steve when he said “I love you” to you before he hung up the phone.

“Who did you say “I love you” to?” Clint asks curiously.

“Oh- uhh- my girlfriend.” Steve says.

You and Steve are actually married. You two have been married for almost 2 years. You two also have a baby on the way. Yours and his first child. The Avengers don’t know about you and yours and Steve’s unborn child. The only reason why he’s keeping you and the baby a secret is to protect you two. He hates keeping this a secret from his team- his friends.

Steve was sitting on the quinjet, staring at a picture. He smiles at it. He kisses the picture before putting it in his pocket. He sighs before exiting the quinjet with the Avengers.

———

“We need someplace safe to stay after that.” Clint says.

“I know a place.” Steve says.

The Avengers made their way to yours and Steve’s house. Steve texted you, telling you that he’s coming home and some of his friends are coming with him. You were completely fine with that. You straightened up the house just enough so it was nice for Steve’s friends.

The quinjet landed in the grassy area around yours and his house. They got off the quinjet and followed Steve up to the house. He walked inside with the Avengers following him inside. The Avengers stopped in the living room while Steve greeted you. They stared at Steve in confusion when he kissed you. Steve then moved to your side and wrapped his arm around your waist protectively. The Avengers’ eyes zeroed in on your stomach, seeing your pregnant belly. Even though, you’re 2 months pregnant, your pregnant is small, but started to become a little noticeable.

“This is Y/N. She’s my wife.” Steve introduces the Avengers to you.

Their eyes went wide when Steve said wife.

“Wife?” Tony asks.

Steve nods.

“How long have you two been married?” Bruce asks.

“Almost 2 years.” You say, smiling up at your husband.

“Are you- you know?” Clint asks, referring to your pregnant belly.

“If you’re asking if I’m pregnant, yes I am. I’m 2 months pregnant.” You say happily.

The Avengers stared at you in surprise. This is something they would’ve never expected. They’re also wondering why Steve never told them about you and the baby.

“I know you guys are surprised to be hearing this for the first time, but please don’t be mad at me. I kept her and our baby a secret, because I wanted to protect her. I lost a lot over the years. I didn’t want to lose my wife and baby too.” Steve says.

The Avengers were going to question him why he kept something as important as you and the baby a secret, but hearing his reasoning behind it made those questions fade away. The Avengers were silent for a small moment before Thor spoke up.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Rogers.” Thor says.

“It’s nice to meet you guys too.” You smiled at them. “I can show you guys to your rooms if you’d like.” You suggested softly.

“That would be nice.” Natasha smiles.

Natasha followed you upstairs while the guys stayed in the living room with Steve. Natasha caught a glimpse of the baby’s nursery when you guys walked past it.

“Is this the baby’s nursery?” Natasha asks curiously.

“It is.” You replied. “Would you like to see it?” You asked.

Natasha nods. You walked in the nursery with Natasha following behind you.

“Everything is unorganized at the moment and Steve and I are still trying to figure out where we want to put everything.” You tell her.

Natasha looked around the nursery with the look of interest on her face.

“If you want, I can help you guys set it up.” She politely suggests.

“Really?” You asked with a smile.

“Of course.” She nods and smiles.

“That would be nice. Thank you.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles back.

While you and Natasha were talking in the nursery, Steve was talking to Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Thor in the living room.

“What do you guys think of Y/N?” Steve asks.

“She’s cool. I like her.” Clint says.

“I like her too.” Bruce says.

“Me too.” Thor says.

“Me three.” Tony says.

Steve smiles at them, loving their responses. You and Natasha went downstairs a moment later.

“We were just talking about you, sweetheart.” Steve says.

“All good things I hope.” You say.

“All good things. They like you.” He smiles.

“I like her too!” Natasha chimes in.

“I like you guys too.” You say with a smile.

———

It’s been a few days since the Avengers stayed at yours and Steve’s house and found out about you and the baby. It went way better than both of you expected.

“I’m sorry for springing the team on you with little notice a few days ago.” Steve says.

“You don’t have to apologize, sweetie. I understand.” You say softly.

Steve put his hands on the sides of your pregnant belly and kisses you softly and passionately.

“Oh and Natasha offered to help with the nursery.” You say.

“The more help the better.” Steve smiles. “Did she suggest naming the baby after her if we’re having a girl?” He jokingly asks.

“No.” You giggled. “We’re still naming her after your mom.” You say with a smile.

“Or we’re naming him after my friend Bucky if we’re having a boy.” He says with a smile.

“That sounds great, honey.” You smiled. “I love you so much.” You say softly.

“I love you more, darling.” He almost whispers, kissing you softly.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[coichii]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ── warm kisses - jeongin

—(🎧)—> when your period gets the best of you, it takes jeongin to take away the pain and make you forget the pain of those cursed 7 days.

pairing - bf!jeongin ♥�� fem!reader

genre - fluff & comfort (surprise!)

word count - 1.2k

warnings - period talk, cramps, blood stains.

“Damnit!” you exclaim, groaning and putting your head in your hands.

You stare at the red blotch on your sheets, a sickening warmth running up your neck from embarrassment. The pain in your stomach isn’t helping this either, making you groan and clutch your belly.

It was just day one of your period. It’s usually not heavy, so you decided to sleep with a lighter pad. Well, you’re never making that mistake again because now you have to fine a stain remover made out of gold and buy some new shorts.

Not to mention the fact you’re running out of medicine for your cramps, down to just the last two pills or so. The stress brims tears in your eyes, closing your eyes and attempting to massage your temples.

“Baby! Are you okay?” Your boyfriend says, sneaking up from behind you and grabbing your shoulders.

You didn’t know Jeongin was home. It’s early morning, probably around 8 am. Usually by this time, he’s not home or at least getting ready to leave for work. This causes you to jump, heart beating even quicker than it was before.

Immediately, your cheeks go red. You’re beyond embarrassed, the last thing you want your boyfriend seeing is the spot you left in the bed that you’re already pissed off about.

“Nothing, I’m fine innie.” You lie, trying to usher him out of the room but he’s not buying it.

“Are you sure I heard you screa— oh.” He finally notices the sheets, and the tears finnaly begin to fall from your eyes.

“I’m sorry please don’t be mad at me I had no idea that my flow would be that heavy and I didn’t know until late this morning I’m s—“ he shuts you up with a precious kiss to your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you deeper.

The thoughts that were swimming through your mind are instantly silenced. Your mind is only able to focus on him. The way his lips work on yours. The way he holds you close. That’s all in your pretty head now.

“Baby, why are you apologizing? I don’t mind, I know stuff like this happens.” His voice is soft, angelic almost as it soothes you.

“I-I don’t know. I just felt like you would think it’s weird or something.” You blush, realizing how silly the whole thing was. Jeongin would never be the type of person to judge you over something so normal.

“I wouldn’t find something like that weird, y/n. It happens and it’s not embarrassing. I love all sides of you.”

It’s like his words wipe away your tears. If you’re doubts were quiet already, they were definitely murdered now. All you do is hug him, stuffing your face in his big chest for comfort. You stay there for multiple minutes, soaking up his warmth.

“Well then,” Jeongin sighs when you finally pull away, missing his warmth immediately. “why don’t you go shower and change while I change the sheets, hm?”

“A-are you sure?” You ask insecurely, tilting your head to the side. Jeongin smiles, pressing another kiss on your lips.

“I’m sure.” You trust his word, pulling and going to go take a warm shower. As you set the water, you can hear Jeongin slowly taking the sheets off.

Your chests radiates with warmth, a small & shy smile plastering itself on your face. Him showing up was exactly what you needed.

The shower soothes your body, the warmth rolling away the cramps in your lower stomach. The headache that had formed not to long ago fades away as-well, the pain feeling nonexistent.

Jeongin comes into the steamy bathroom not much longer into your shower, closing his eyes like shamed teenager while walking backwards.

“I have some clean clothes for you, baby. They’re nice and warm for you, okay?” He chirps, placing a warm set of pajamas on your bathroom counter.

“You know you’ve seen me before, right?” You chuckle, the heat feling more intense now that he’s in here with you.

“U-Uhm, take as long as you need in there!” He deflects, hastily leaving the bathroom. You smile, finishing wiping off the soapy bubbles along your skin before turning the water off.

You get out of the shower, wiping your skin with the soft and warm towel. Hastily, you get your self dressed. You take care of other hygiene issues as well, brushing your teeth & washing your face. You don’t forget to take a pill as-well before leaving the bathroom.

When you crack the door open, you can see Jeongin finishing up with making up your bed, pulling the top sheet on and placing your favorite plushie in the middle of your thick pillows.

He pulls out the heating pad you keep stored in your cabinet, plugging it in the wall and setting it to high.

Your eyes swell up with tears again, causing you sniffle. You walk over to Jeongin, hugging his soft body and soaking in his warmth.

“Thank you, Innie.” You smile, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before diving into the covers.

He smiles at you, adorable dimples poking out for a moment before getting in the sheets along side you, something that you didn’t expect.

It’s well past the time Jeongin was supposed to leave now, so why he was getting in the covers you had no clue.

“Baby, what are you doing? You still have work you know.” You giggle softly, pushing his (insert hair color) hair out of his face.

His face melts into your hand, closing his eyes as the warmth of your skin comforts his own. Your touch is like a gentle summer rain gliding across his skin to him.

When he opens his eyes again, his eyes are red with love. He’s not thinking straight, his mind not focusing on anything but you and your pretty pink lips.

He’d do anything for you, even if it meant missing important schedules and having his hyungs get mad at him. It all didn’t matter once he saw your face and your smile that makes him blush and chuckle like a little kid.

“It’s fine, I need to take care of you.” He shrugged, holding his arms out for you to fall into his chest.

“Still, I can’t expect you to drop everything for me.” He sigh, sinking into Jeongin’s chest once more, his comfort like that of a warm lullaby’s after a nightmare.

“Well you should, you know I’d do anything for you. Now go back to sleep baby, I know you’re tired.” He kisses your forehead softly, lips lingering as he stares at your watering eyes.

“I love you.” Is all you manage to say before you slip into dreamland, snores not taking long to begin sounding in the quiet room.

He observes you as you rest, watching as your chest softly rises and falls. He brushes a strand of your hair out of your face, finding a sense of peace in your on.

“I love you too. More than you could ever imagine. I’ll marry you one day, I promise.” He mumbles to him self, following shortly behind you and accompanying your snores.

His words are not empty, them coming from the deepest parts of his own heart & soul. He loves you to the end of the earth.

And he’ll do anything he can to prove that.

[stillbornfrost]

Your Yandere CRK Ancients x Reader is the best. Damn!!! I'm watching this for the third time already😭😭....

Pure Vanilla must be a master of gaslighting, everything is so soft and gentle that the reader doesn't even notice. But His bittersweet obsession is so palpable at times. Plus, he's mild and gentle, so even if the reader rebels, he'll dismiss it as some kind of acting out for his attention!

I love your Headcanons, it's almost crazy. I've only been reading your stuff for a few hours and I feel like I've met my match!!!🥹 If you were asked, I mean, if it was okay with you, could I ask for 'Yandere CRK Ancients x rebellious, tearful reader'?

I'll say it one last time, your writing is so good, I'm rereading it for the 6th time already👍👍👍👍👍👍

That’s such an incredibly kind and passionate message—thank you so much! I hope this finds you well.. I WAS RUSHING THIS SO I APOLOGIZE!! I WANTED TO GET IT TO YOU AS FAST AS POSSIBLE🫶

Yandere CRK Ancients x Rebellious, tearful! Reader

Pure Vanilla Cookie

He smiles, even as you cry and pull away from him. It breaks his heart to see you like this—but he knows it’s just a phase.

“You poor thing… Have I not been gentle enough with you?” he asks softly, brushing your tears away with fingers that glow faintly with magic. His touch is feather-light, reverent.

Every attempt you make to assert independence is carefully rationalized. You're not rebellious—you’re just overwhelmed. You’re confused.

“Of course you're upset, dear. You've been through so much. That’s why I need to protect you.”

He doesn’t lock you in a room. He locks you in guilt.

And when you shout, when you say you hate him—he closes his eyes, breathes in slowly, then hugs you tighter. “Say it again if it helps you feel better. I’ll never stop loving you.”

Hollyberry Cookie

Oh, you're kicking and screaming? She lives for it.

She’s fixated. Your rebellion is adorable to her—a spark she’ll smother with affection and brute strength.

“You’re fiery! I like that. Makes it more fun to win you over.”

She picks you up effortlessly when you try to run, tossing you over her shoulder like you weigh nothing. “Let’s go, crybaby. You can sob it all out on my chest.”

You say she’s suffocating. She grins. “Then I’ll just hold you tighter. It means I’m doing it right.”

She isn’t subtle—she's overwhelming. But gods help you, there's warmth in her touch that makes you hesitate. Just for a second.

Dark Cacao Cookie

Your tears? They ruin him. But your rebellion? That’s... necessary. It means he still has work to do.

“If you weep because of me, I accept that burden,” he says grimly. “But I won’t release you.”

He watches you struggle through lowered lashes, arms crossed, posture stiff. You are his most sacred responsibility.

He doesn’t yell. He simply blocks every door, every window, standing still as stone. He’s the fortress itself.

“If you are in pain, I will carry it with you. But you will remain by my side.”

Some nights you see him outside your room, unmoving, standing guard for hours. Not to protect you from others—but to protect you from leaving.

Golden Cheese Cookie

She hates your rebellion—but only because it threatens her illusion of control.

“Tears? Already? Don’t be dramatic, sweet thing. You have everything you could ever want here.”

She's the kind of yandere who buys you a room full of jewels and then says you're being ungrateful when you cry.

“Oh, come now. This kingdom is yours too! I’ve made you royalty, haven’t I?”

She throws a feast after every breakdown, pretending nothing happened. But the guards outside your room have doubled.

Her obsession is loud, luxurious, and laced with delusion. You’re hers—and any sign of rebellion is just “you acting out to get her attention.”

White Lily Cookie

She watches you cry like she’s memorizing every tear. It’s almost scientific. Almost reverent.

“You feel deeply. That’s beautiful.”

Her obsession is clinical and soft-spoken—but terrifying in its intensity. She sees your rebellion as a symptom, not a choice.

“I understand your resistance. But don’t you see? I only want to purify your pain. You’ll thank me, eventually.”

She doesn’t stop you from screaming—but she records it. She needs to know how far you’ll go before you break.

“There is no cruelty in truth, my love. And the truth is: you belong with me.”

[crazylittlejester]

rambling out some thoughts about my modern au war for anyone who wants to hear em (as an apology for not writing anything for that au in a Hot Minute. also sorry for spelling mistakes im dyslexic and the brain fog is Bad today)

ive been seeing a lot of that tiktok trend with skaters dropping to their knees on the ice to ‘the winner takes it all’, and not only would my modern au War absolutely have done that trend, I genuinely think that whenever he’s feeling some big emotion he will choreograph something to a song he’s actively obsessing over, record him skating, and post it, because thats like the only way he has to express himself. thats how he communicates and that is quite literally the only way he knows how to tell people he’s upset or pissed or grieving because he cannot say those things in words

i haven’t talked about him in a while so “lore drop” to anyone not super familiar with this au lmao, but he did NOT come from a good home. he was not raised in good environments (between home and strict ballet studios that taught him that it is more important to be perfect and excel and progress than it is to properly take care of your body and learn its limits) and he is very bad at verbally communicating how he feels (partially because its hard for HIM to properly dissect the issue himself at this point). Like he’s gotten better at it because Twilight and Sky have been putting in WORK for the past eight years, but it’s still hard for him a lot of the time and skating is his outlet. It’s ALWAYS been his outlet, he throws every feeling he’s ever had into every single performance he gives and that’s what makes him so mesmerizing to watch because there is so much genuine realness from him behind WHATEVER he does. like yeah he does have natural talent and he is flexible and his lines have always looked good because of his build and coaches instructors and judges have always liked him for that, but what made him a world champion and what consistently won him gold medals was how terrifyingly powerful and impactful his performances were because he made people feel whatever the fuck he was. ability to do the jumps and turns only gets you so far, the life you breathe into your art takes you the rest of the way

he was so used to being ignored and neglected as a kid that his brain came up with the conclusion that it has to let out EVERYTHING it’s feeling when War finally is the center of attention in his performances and nobody’s looking away and people CANT ignore him. he has their attention, they HAVE to listen, they have to SEE him. and the performance that won him the equivalent of an olympic gold medal, that last performance he ever gave that he quit skating immediately after because of his coach (Cia) will absolutely end up going down as one of the most emotionally powerful programs in Hyrule history because he threw everything he had, everything he is and was, into that. all his anger at feeling helpless, all his anger at not being able to admit what happened to him or even seek help, all that sadness and loneliness and isolation he carried with him for so so long, and he put that out there in front of the entire world as basically a cry for help and while that alone obviously could not tell people what exactly was wrong, that performance DID end up getting him the help he needed because another coach (Impa) recognized there had to be something going on

as terrified as he is to ever return to skating because of what happened and because of the toxic mindset he’d had that he just FINALLY broke out of, War genuinely cannot live without it because it’s been so important to him for so long, it’s his outlet, and losing it forever would destroy him. dance is similar, but its just not the same to him and he misses it so badly and thats why his dumb ass hits the rink for a few hours every day on top of everything else because he can’t let it go

and the rare tiktoks from him where he’s skating out his negative emotions (and not just being silly and fucking around to lady gaga or whatever) still have quite the punch to them. he may not have a coach, but he’s maintained the same level of skill he had when he left because he still practices, and ofc his ability to put life into his performance is never something he’s struggled with because he feels so so much and he has no other way to release overwhelming emotions but through art

there are people in the skating community who do genuinely mourn losing him to retirement, there are so many people who want him to come back

i like showing the silly sides of him in this au (like the side of him that saw the weather was warm for the first time in months and decided to wear a crop top to class and not bring a coat just for it to rain and he was miserable, or the side of him that almost had a heart attack and died when lady gaga released a new album) because the whole au is supposed to be a bit silly and just fun, but he has sooooooo much more going on and so many other layers and i (insane) have put way too much thought into him and this au lmao

[ilona2nerrie]

Mer JL au:

Hal: Gobiodon histrio.

(it’s a fish that can be multiple colours. If you want to find the one, I see google it with the term green behind it, and it has orange stipes. I’m honestly not fussed, whoever wants to decide Hal’s stripe colour just put it in the comments, first one wins. Unless it’s a joke one. I don’t want to wreck the vision for others just because he first comment is a joke. Either way, I like this foosh.)

Jason: Maroon Clownfish

(I think this one’s really pretty and would accurately show how Jason was before he died. This is before he died in my au, so yes. And the reason I’m adding a pic for Jason is because there is a normal type, but this one looks so cool, and Jason deserves the best. Idk if he’s going to be in this chapter, but when I reference this fish, it’s not the one you google, it’s this one. I read an article on it; it is the same species but mutated to look amazingly cool. if you cant tell, i like fish.)

Hullo, it’s me again! Here with a part four. Please read, enjoy, let me know if you need me to do anything, have fun, enjoy!

Every part I think I’m just going to try to add two more species of Mer, like I did in the first part. The first part will be linked under the people who asked to be tagged if you want to be tagged PM me.

Tagged:

@ancientdreams-in-a-modernland

@pettitneko

@random-generated-name

Part one linked: Clark finds himself a friend. Bruce finds himself a meal ticket.

Chapter Two: Clark almost gets caught. Bruce tries to communicate with him.

Part three linked: Bruce shows off his pup and Clark learns to communicate.

Enjoy the story!

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

Clark was happy for days after that interaction. The league was confused about why he was so happy, but every time they brought it up, he just brushed it off, saying he was just in a good mood. He hadn’t seen Bruce since then, but he didn’t feel the need to worry about it anymore. He had gained at least a little trust. I mean, Bruce had let Clark talk to his pup. Progress!

Meanwhile Arthur was getting increasingly frustrated with this recent disaster. The trench. There had been spotting of trench monsters outside the trench much more frequent than normal, and it was getting disruptive. He was starting to think something was scaring them off. He turned to Clark to get his opinion but saw the other smiling at his JL pad again.

“Clark.” He tried, attempting to coax the other into helping him, it was almost as if Clark didn’t hear him as he just continued to look at his pad. “uh- excuse me Kent. Am I interrupting something?” he tried again, making a face.

Clark looked up, surprised for a second before clearing his throat. “apologies Arthur, uh, no, you’re not interrupting. Please, continue.”

Clark reluctantly put his pad down as he looked up to listen to the other drone on. Every time Clark glanced at his pad, he swore he was being watched, but when Hal and Barry were giggling to each other about something stupid at the other end of the hall, no one batted an eye.

His eyes met Dianas, and she smiled at him sympathetically, also a bit bored of the meeting. Nothing much had happened in a bit, and when Clark was allowed to leave, he practically jumped for joy. Well, I swam up for joy. (lmao puns). He had heard of a spotting of a black finned creature who was with a small Mer pup, and apparently another, smaller one. So, Clark knew Bruce was around and decided to go see him. That was his friend, the black scaled creature, not some dangerous one. Just Bruce.

When Clark got to the reef he swam around, dipping in and out of coral places. It took a while, but he saw Bruce sitting under a rather large piece, with dick swimming g around but close to him, staring at some vibrant fish. While a smaller, red-tailed Mer, clung to Bruce’s arm. Dick was 12, but this pup looked about 10. He had one arm wrapped around Bruce, and the other playing in the sand with a shell. Bruce watched his kids play, sighing as he tilted his head back.

When he met Clarks, for the first time he didn’t seem outright hostile. He just nodded tiredly and gestured Clark over. Clark happily swam to the other, before slowing down when he was in the closer vicinity. He was surprised when Bruce didn’t glare at him to go further away but just looked at him tiredly. When dick saw Clark, he grinned and swam over happily, plopping himself in front of the older mer. “hey Clark!” dick said, smiling. “My dads tired, you think you can help him. He says he doesn’t need any, but he’s lying. There are too many kids for him to handle- “

Dick, like nay child his age, just talked and didn’t really think about the consequence of his words. Clark chuckled, gaze shifting to a red-faced flustered Bruce, who gave his oldest son a look before flashing a reprimand about telling personal things. Dick stuck his tongue out at his dad. “but you need help! You even brought Jason here so Clark could take care of him while you rested.” He pouted. Bruce put his face in his hands.

“Jason huh?” Clark asked, looking at the pup. Who promptly shifted himself, so he was hidden behind his dad, poking his head out at Clark, who smiled at him. “wait- there are more of you?”

“Mhm.” Dick affirmed, “there’s me, Jason, Tim, Damian, Steph, Cass and duke. But at home. Dad finally got them to go to sleep. So, he’s here with me and jay.”

“Oh god that’s a lot of kids,” Clark muttered. He lowered his voice so Bruce, who was making sure Jason was ok, wouldn’t hear. “dose your dad has a partner?”

Dick grinned like he’d been waiting for that, shaking his head. “nope! Were all adopted. And I think he likes you.” Dick whisperer the last part.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief, glancing at Bruce before returning with his next question.

“How old are you all?”

“I’m 12, Jason’s 10, Steph Tim and Cass are 9, duke is seven and Damian is 2.” Disk stated, counting them off on his fingers best he could. Sensing Clarks next question, he added. “he found us all in need of a family and took us in. and he left the others at home because its dangerous out here and he needed a break. There fine though, there being looked after by a shark called Titus. And don’t worry about that, he’s friendly.”

Clark was going to ask but decided against it. instead deciding to continue to talk with dick and hang out with Bruce. Dick wasn’t joking about Bruce being tired, as he fell asleep mid conversation. Jason was concerned for his dad before dick stepped in and introduced him and Clark. Jason was wary, but eventually warmed up a little, holding Clark’s hand instead while he played in the sand. Bruce’s unconscious body lay on Clark’s shoulder as dick played trapping fish and Jason dug in the sand.

Clark stayed till late into the night, when Bruce woke up, got extremely flustered and then had to rush home to take care of his kids. He did flash at Clark though. Dick said he was thanking him. And Clark smiled to himself as they left. Jason even gave him the shell he was playing with. Clark loved this.

[polyphemusboo]

ghost fic to Nails by Call Me Karizma if possible? I linked the music video from YouTube to make it easier :p, have a good day/night!!!

cw: brief? smut. cannibalism as a metaphor for an 0rgy. a human s-crifice, sort of. a hearth and witches. the underworld (not Hell). the devil wears prada, but literally. simon’s a simp. established relationship. they’re freaks. reader spikes simon’s brownies (he’s aware). that mv + peek a boo by red velvet cuz yes.

simon ghost riley x gn!reader.

Death Becomes You

If your partner tells you they’re part of a coven and you don’t immediately think they’re the coolest, you’re lame. At least, that’s how Simon sees it.

Truly, he never really questioned it. If you have places to be, Simon’s nobody to ask you about it, because you’re capable of taking care of yourself. He doesn’t really mind the blood stains —that he ends up cleaning because you usually pass out pretty soon after arriving—, nor the weird scratches he can see on your arms when you sleep next to him. He knows that if you needed his help, you would just ask him. The scratches make him squint, however. Cheating’s never been in his mind, up until that point.

Simon decided to ask once, the morning after he saw those scratches the first time, but the deadpan look in your eyes, the arch of your eyebrow, made him apologize, cheeks warm. That night, he made sure to make you come as many times as possible, three fingers deep inside, mouth all over you until he could taste your forgiveness for the slip of his tongue. He knelt for hours, flipping you onto your back and stomach until you pushed him away, sensitive. He got a really nice, warm meal after that.

It’s not like it comes as an actual surprise, looking back.

Not a single bug in sight except for spiders you would refuse to let him kill, jars filled with sparkling, crystal water you would not let him touch, all those weird things that would happen around the house, and your baking. Your brownies make him so sleepy he often finds himself waking up on the table with half a bite still in his mouth, with you nowhere to be seen for hours. Simon just gulps down the bite of brownie and lays on the couch, watching a show until you’re back.

He’s surprised, though, when you suddenly stop baking. No cooking, no touching. Simon keeps himself busy, trying not to think of the inevitable; you’re losing feelings. It’s so painfully obvious, with you being extra nice, coming home directly after work and spending less time out, talking to him, but there’s… nothing. You barely even kiss him anymore.

And then, after a whole month, you sit him down on the bed. A month without your food, a month without you letting him go down on you —a month of misery. A month of nothing. Simon’s mind fills with desperate screams, thinking you’re leaving him. That’s it, he thinks as he sits in front of you, you’re finally leaving him and he’s back to being alone and without you. He probably did something wrong, and you don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to hurt him. 

Simon’s already begging in his mind, because you look so sad, so nervous, and he really can’t believe you’re gonna leave him just like—

“I’m a witch.”

He stares, waiting. 

For a hot moment, neither of you say anything. Simon’s lips purse, body shaking, and he can’t hold it back any longer when your shoulders slump further. “What… does that have to do with anything?”

“Huh?”

“You’re leaving me, and you’re telling me you’re a witch… Why, exactly?”

“I’m- leaving you?”

Simon springs up from the bed, pacing in front of you. He waves a hand around the room, choking down his tears of desperation. The walls seem ready to swallow him, to drown him. “Yes, of course you are. You don’t want to look at me, won’t let me hold you at night, and you even refused to hug me for the past few days. I don’t even understand why!”

He doesn’t realize you’re standing as well, lips trembling as you look at him, bright eyes warming at his reaction. Your lips curl up, amused. Simon’s too busy panicking to see the smile he’s missed oh so much, however.

“No brownies, even though those have been my favorite for the past three years, no cuddling, no kissing, no ‘good morning, sweetheart’. What did I do wrong?” 

“Simon.”

“No! You know what, I don’t even wanna hear it. It’s fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll just grab my stuff and I’ll leave.”

Simon’s not expecting you to push him to the bed, lungs collapsing when your mouth finds his. Deep in his mind, he’s sure you’re just giving him this one more time so he doesn’t leave with his heart entirely broken, but there’s no way he’s gonna stop you. He can taste the way you’re calling him an idiot, brainless and stupid. Simon eats it up, slurping your tongue, making sure you can feel him through your clothes when he grips your hips tightly. He doesn’t care. If this is his last chance, he’ll prove you he can stay. He’s worth it. He really is.

“I tell you I’m a witch, and you don’t even blink,” you grunt, fingers scratching on his skin when you remove his t-shirt. It’s hot, and he’s sweating buckets, but he doesn’t make a single move to pin you down. It you want it like this, you can have it. “Ridiculous. Did you even listen to me?”

“Why would I care?” Simon pants, fingers tugging on the soft fabric of your clothes. The skin to skin contact nearly makes him faint, and he’s not even inside of you yet.

“I’ve been spiking your brownies,” you confess in a hiss, leaning down to bite down on his neck. “It’s easier to leave when you’re asleep”. Your skin is burning, smooth yet sticky, and it keeps him in a trance. It’s clear you’re trying to warn him, maybe make him understand, but honestly…

“They’re good. Worth it.”

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Mhm.”

The thing is, of course he knows. Brownies shouldn’t make people so dizzy, so sleepy they pass out for hours; but you never hurt him, and he didn’t question it because why would he? He gets to eat good brownies, and gets to muffle his complaints when he’s fucking you with his tongue, so really, Simon wins.

He keeps winning when you’re still babbling against the bedsheets, cheek shiny with spit as your words mix with your whimpers, telling him all the things you’ve done behind his back, all the things you’ve done with the coven deep in the night. Simon’s cock is pounding so deep inside of you that he’s almost sure you’re fucking with him when you mention his boss, and that delicious meatloaf you made last year.

“What?” He grunts anyway, one of his hands pressing down on your back, making sure you’re bending just the way he knows you like. The reaction is immediate, if the way your toes curl is anything to go by.

“Mhm. Baked.”

Simon doesn’t even bother asking, accepting his fate, and leans down forward, his strong arm wrapping around your neck to keep you in place as picks up the pace. The slapping of skin against skin is loud and overwhelming enough that he can’t hear your confessions anymore, and Simon couldn’t care less, not when you’re falling apart under him. Your babbling becomes only that, mindless words and whimpers, eyes rolling back into your skull when Simon only pins you harder on the bed. 

It goes on, and on, and on.

The birds chirping outside remind Simon that neither of you slept tonight, but he’s too busy holding your legs on his shoulders to care. Your eyes are half-lidded, expression cock-drunk, and he wouldn’t have it any other way; you’ve come apart so many times tonight that he’s sure you’re never leaving. That’s really all he cares about, not losing you —and making sure you’re satisfied, really.

Only when you mumble at him to give you a break, does he gently shift away. Simon gives you some time to breathe as he grabs a warm, damp pillow to wipe you down with it, humming contently. A smirk slowly curls his lips up, making sure to press kisses down your heated skin, a happy feeling blooming in his chest.

“Come with me.” Your voice is soft and dreamy, and he’s once again reminded of how long he went without hearing you sound like that.

“Where?”

“Home.”

When the sun comes down again, Simon’s finally allowed to come with you. For three years, he never once thought of asking you where you went, didn’t even wonder if he could know, and now, you guide him deep into the forest, with only a candle in your hands. You’re wearing a deep purple cloak over thin, white clothes, but he’s wearing his usual hoodie and trousers. It makes him feel out of place, but you had insisted. “Trust the process”, you told him.

Simon’s not expecting the group of people smiling at him when you two finally reach a big hearth in the middle of a clearing. There are seven people, all of them standing around the fire with their backs against big trees; two of them are empty. It takes him a moment, but when his eyes focus he realizes they’re all naked. Lips parted, slightly confused, he turns to you, only to see that your cloak and clothes are also gone. He frowns, not fond of people looking at you this way, but your smile has him sighing.

They all introduce themselves, names that Simon somehow already knew just looking at their faces, but nobody really talks, their lips unmoving. He doesn’t blink when their soft hands get rid of his clothes, voices filling his mind as they tug on him, pulling him closer to the hearth. Your eyes find his whenever he feels a spark of doubt, giving him a cheeky smile.

Simon’s eyes fall shut when your lips find his, but it doesn’t stop there. Hands grip on him, tugging on his skin, feeling as it’s ripped from his body but it doesn’t hurt. It’s pleasant, and it’s warm. 

It’s hot.

He’s not sure he’s even been touched by so many people, let alone at the same time, but he can’t think. Wet lips and soft hands, teeth and warm skin burn on him. It burns, and burns. When his eyes blink open, they’re all in the middle of the hearth, teeth sinking deep in his skin as they bite, as they rip him apart. They leave nothing but his bones behind.

There’s no real pain, he realizes, and the pride in your face is enough to convince him he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

The fire roars, and the flames grow, eating all the trees away, eating the dark sky until there’s nothing but yellow light all around. It’s warm, and he feels at home, especially now that he can focus only on you.

A moment later, he’s himself again, bones and skin, and very much bare, but he’s not in the forest anymore. 

Everything is bright, and it feels like he should be melting, but the warmth it’s welcoming, comforting. A man is smiling at everyone, all the seven people around and at the two of you. He’s wearing a beautiful suit, slicked back blonde hair, and Simon swears he has a brooch with horns right above his heart.

“Welcome.”

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

im so sorry it took me so long. writing isn’t coming easy to me at all since last month but i got inspired again because of this! I had a lot of fun writing it, and the song is amazing so thank you. also, i promise i tried to keep it close to the actual mv, but i ended up taking inspiration from some of the scenes and the concept instead of the actual mv. I hope you didn't mind sm 🙏🏻

buy me a coffee

tags: @kittygonap @silas-aeiou

[hitlikehammers]

🏀That One Time Steve Harrington Visited an Old Friend, Said Thank You 💕, Dished Some Gossip 💅, Gushed About the ♥️Love of His Life♥️, Offered Apologies, and Brought Their Favorite Flowers as a Perk 💐

☕️OR: 4/5 times Steve/Eddie talk to anyone but each other about their feelings (for each other), +1 (other time they turn around and talk to one another)

“Hey Chrissy-lis.”

The first time they’d met, he’d only just learned the word. She flitted around, so fast and wild, and he’d been able to get her to sit still long enough for someone to tie up her hair when he told her if she wanted to be a butterfly, she had to be a chrysalis first—and her in particular, because she was named just right for it.

She’d beamed at him so big. They’d been fast friends. Sports-spouses, someone called them by middle school. They’d laughed over it, but it wasn’t wrong. They grew up together, even if they rarely spoke, rarely saw each other in the off-seasons—a year off made a difference, for schedules and stuff.

And most of what they had in common was sports, anyway. And the shit that happened at home neither of them wanted to say out loud.

Steve thinks that’s what made them work. Neither made the other say it. They both just sat with it. Knew, and didn’t run.

He wishes he’d known she was hurting so bad. He knows he couldn’t have stopped what happened, no more than Eddie. No more than anyone.

Only Eddie and Rob and Wayne know that. They’re the ones who know what he does and what he feels out loud, now—at least more of it—and they stay.

But Chrissy, she’d brought her own little squad to meets, convinced Hawkins to have the most out-of-place little huddle of pompoms, every time Steve dove into the pool.

And Steve got good with his hair—and he taught himself to be great with Chrissy’s, even when she didn’t need the coaxing to keep still anymore.

“So I promised an update.”

Because he comes. He doesn’t stay long. Always brings flowers he holds on to until he leaves. He likes to think she’ll know he’s been here, if there’s any way for anyone to know anything after…

After.

“He is everything,” Steve tells her like a secret, like the little moments of the things they did trade—bits and pieces, school gossip, boys kiss girls kiss boys—between her sitting down and him spinning her scrunchie sky-high around one last time. “He is absolutely the one.”

He smiles—he’s trying not to feel like he shouldn’t smile at her headstone; she was so made of joy. She deserves more than just the flowers when he comes to visit to make sure her shines never dulled.

Or forgotten.

Which reminds him:

“I never did thank you,” which he regrets, because she should have known, but doesn’t punish himself for, because back then he didn’t believe it—or believed it, but with the wrong person, for a lesser thing entirely.

“For always telling me that I’d find that type of person,” and she always said that, whoever he was with would come to any game, any meet, any…any time they sat, him one bleacher above her to get her hair teased high before anyone else came in—she asked it the most about Nancy and he hadn’t seen it, the why.

“That I wasn’t delusional,” which he thought, for sure, once it ended with Nancy. “That I was worth it.”

That he’s starting to genuinely believe now. With Eddie. Who isn’t just the one. Who is everything.

“You were the only person who said it, for a,” Steve swallows hard; “for a really long time.”

Steve fucking hates the people who try, still, to say that some people who die were too good for this world. Chrissy was just too good.

Period.

“If I didn’t thank you enough, I’m sorry,” and he knows he didn’t. But he also knows she didn’t need him to say it to know he felt it—they communicated a lot in what they didn’t say, after all.

“I hope you know my whole heart’s in thanking you now.”

He walks closer to the stone, runs his hands over the top. Sometimes, here, he gets flashes of what could have been, so close, the man who’s his soul and then some could have ended up with a marker, here.

Now’s not one of those times. It’s happening less now.

He looks at the ring on his left hand, resting on Chrissy’s headstone. Maybe that’s why. Mostly he wanted to be closer. Mostly he wants to pretend she could feel the weight of it, the shape of it, and know how much has happened, in how it’s all turned out.

She was never the type to begrudge someone their joy even if she couldn’t find her own. He feels…he’s working on feeling less than horrible about telling her things like this.

He doesn’t actually believe there’s anything after death. Save he thinks he has to, now.

He cannot imagine an eternity that exists without Eddie.

“Thanking you with my whole heart in it, like, that’s a really big deal, now, more than it was before,” he starts to ramble a little around the ache in him, for the loss of her, for the things he has that she deserved too.

Not instead of him, he reminds himself in Eddie’s voice. That she deserves too.

It helps. Even if he says the same in reverse when Eddie comes to see her.

“Because being able to love like this, and someone to want it? To almost, like,” Steve huffs, shakes his head in the wonder he doesn’t think is ever going to die down; “welcome it with open arms?”

He looks at her name etched in the stone. Pristine.

But cold. Nothing like her. They didn’t understand her. He doesn’t pretend he did in just the role of sports-husband to his cheer-wife. But he thinks…he thinks he knew some things.

“My chest just feels fuller, bigger,” he says, tracing the letters, pressing warmth into them even for a moment, because it has to matter; it has to matter more than nothing. “Like my heart’s stretched wide all the time because it doesn’t ever have to shrink itself anymore just to sneak by without getting the shit beat out of it.”

He comes to the end of the deep-carved ‘M’. He kisses the rough top of the stone because, again. Warmth.

Even for a moment. Least she deserves.

“So my whole-hearted thanks, Miss Cunningham, means more now that it ever could have,” he whispers low, swallows against the tightness in his throat; “and it still couldn’t scratch the surface.”

He wipes at his eyes, knowing they’ll be a little wet even before he feels a single tear fall.

He’s not wrong.

“I’ll keep trying though,” he promises and then steps up again, crouches at the base.

“Let me know next time if the thanks feels bigger, like, critique my form, yeah?” he says as he props the bundle of echinacea he’s been holding, letting his cologne mix a little with their sweetness, a reminder she’s not alone when he leaves.

If there’s…any chance at all, y’know. Worth covering all bases, just in case.

“Nail that dismount in the stars, Chrissy,” he murmurs as he stands up and raps his knuckles on the stone one more time, like he always would, light against her shoulder when he’d finished, to her giggling as he tied off her hair:

“Can’t get a ponytail higher than the one you’ve got, now.”

💫for @penny00dreadful—happiest of happy birthdays, my lovely 🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @eternal-sunflowers @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here, here, and here

[ambroziadelphine]

Patience and Time(Bucky x Rancher!Reader)

—Bucky's POV—

I was drinking my coffee in my room as I heard the impending thud of footsteps coming towards my room. I had another therapist appointment, and it didn't exactly go well; other people telling me how they think I feel never really goes over well with me. Steve opened my door and gave me that disappointed look I hated as I reluctantly turned my body towards him, setting my cup down as he walked in and closed the door behind him.

"Buck, what happened?" He asked, but I just sighed, truthfully unable to answer him. All that woman was trying to do was her job, help him, but he chewed her out and insulted her the moment she scratched even the tiniest bit of the surface. Introductions were fine, but then when they would get to the topics about his well-being, his past, his memories that he was still slowly learning, he hardened. He lashed out because he feared anyone knowing the truth about himself, he didn't know if Steve could look at him if he knew how much Bucky hated what he felt he had become. The civil war between Tony's team and them had taken such a toll on his mental state, even if Tony had reluctantly forgiven him in agreement to keeping the ex-assassin under surveillance and getting him real help to undo what HYDRA did to him. No one realized how hard that may be, though.

"I dont know." I said quietly, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair before looking at me, a little softer as he took in my obviously neglected appearance. He sat at the end of my bed and was quiet for a moment. This was a condition of Tony and the government's agreement to release me and give me a chance to amend my wrongdoings and get better, but it was like I couldn't. 

"We need to figure something out, or they might put you in prison or worse." He said, making me close my eyes and sigh, a few moments of silence crawling over the room as I felt my own guilt of putting Steve in this situation weighs heavy on me. I was about to open my mouth, I didn't know what I wanted to say. apologize? tell him to leave my problems to myself? I didn't have any time to speak, though, before there was a knock at the door and Steve looked at me with furrowed brows, getting up to open it when Nick Fury stood there, expression as unreadable as always.

"I'm sure you understand why Im here, agent Rogers, Mr. Barnes." he said, addressing them both as he walked in, taking an envelope out from his coat pocket. "Due to the persisting attempts to improve your profile and mental status in the eyes of the government having failed thus far, they have decided to give me 2 more months to get some kind of improvement from you." he said and I felt my throat tighten as Steve's face grew concerned.

"2 months? What happens if there's no improvement?" Steve asked and Fury was silent for a moment before pursing his lips, clearly disliking the words that came out of his mouth.

"Mr. Barnes will be placed into official custody and essentially kept in a lockbox until further notice." He said grimly and I felt Steve's eyes turn to me as I stared at the ground, my hands together as I felt like I wasn't even in my body at this moment. So I either somehow get better in the next 2 months, or I'm put in another cage until I'm dead.

"You can't be serious? They expect him to work through decades of brainwashing and torture in just 2 months!" he said, getting up before I sighed and slumped back in my chair, my face burried in my hands as I took a deep breath. "Theres got to be some way to fix this." he said as I sighed again, Fury was quiet for a moment, the air tense as his eye bore into the side of my head like a hot iron.

"Mr. Barnes." I looked at him hesitantly, he looked almost indifferent, like he was void of caring at this moment. He looked out the window for a moment, leaning his elbows on his knees as we both waited for him to speak again. "I do know someone that may help you, but to do that, it means you would temporarily be moved to a different location. She would also require you to do work in order for her to help." he said as Steve looked between him and I for a moment as I thought about his offer. What kind of work? How could some random women help him when the therapists and psychologists couldn't?

"Why are you just telling us this now?" Steve asked as Fury looked at him with a firm stare.

"Because even the knowledge of her very existence is classified to such extremes that only myself and a select few others know about her. I had spoken to her a few months ago to get her help, but she had requested we try other options before turning to her. Hence why I am now telling you." He said as my brows furrowed, why is she so classified? 

"Why is she so classified?" i asked, my voice was rough from not using it very often, always speaking quietly to conceal the emotions always building in my voice seemed to do that. His stare was unsettling as it felt like the air went cold at my question.

"Because she was the first person to ever escape HYDRA."

————

"Are you sure about this, Buck?" Steve asked as I packed my few belongings I was taking. Some habits from never having a place to settle were showing as weeks in my own space went on, it was hard to feel like I could call a place home, even temporarily. I sighed as I paused, shrugging my shoulders before I continued on.

"I dont know." I muttered, zipping the last of the stuff in before Steve put a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey." he said, pulling my shoulder until I faced him and his concerned but hopeful eyes. "I'm staying the first month, alright?" he said and I nodded, giving a small smile.

"Is she putting you to work too?" I asked and he scoffed and put the packed suitcases in the corner by the door.

"You didnt think youd get to have all the fun, did you?" He asked as I chuckled lightly, shaking my head before he looked at me sincerely. "I'm serious though. You need me at any point while we are there, you can always come to me, and even when I come back here, you can call me at any time, day or night and I will pick up. Got it?” He said, his eyes soft as I felt a small pit in my stomach. I’ve relied on him so much, how could I keep doing that when I know it’s a stressor on him?

“Got it.” I said, giving him a small smile and nod before we both got everything together and headed to the helicarrier where Fury was waiting.

————

“So, how far away is this place?” Steve asked as he stared out over the oceans we passed, Nick leaned back in his chair looking at his ipad, glancing up at him before glancing outside then back down.

“Very far.” He said as I internally scoffed, rolling my eyes at his vague answer. He glanced at me and smirked. “Getting a little impatient, Mr. Barnes?” He asked as I paused, not realizing my leg was bouncing before as I stilled it forcefully, trying to ignore the growing nerves in me.

“Nervous, might be more accurate.” I muttered, looking down as I leaned my elbows on my knees. It was quiet for a moment before Nick got up, walking over to the pilot as he gave a small hum.

“Not much to be nervous about. She’s done this more times than you’d think.” He said with an indifferent tone, turning to Steve and I who looked on in confusion. “You aren’t the only HYDRA subject to have had struggles adjusting to current life. The only difference this time is that normally she finds people like you even before we do.” He said as my eyes widened. So, she specifically helps ex-HYDRA subjects? At least that explains why she can apparently help.

“If she’s done this before, why did she have you try other options before her?” Steve asked as Fury paused, looking at me calmly before sighing.

“Because the Winter Soldier was known across all HYDRA bases. The risk of a current member of her community having interacted with you during your time with HYDRA was.. Is very high.” He said as I felt a lump form in my throat. Some people there will know what I’ve done more than I do, I might have hurt some of them. Fuck, what if everyone there hates me? What if she hates me and that’s why she didn’t want me to come at first? I put my face in my hands as I let out a shaky breath, Steve putting a light hand on my back as Fury looked at us. 

“What if someone does recognize him? Does she have a plan in case someone holds a grudge from before or something?” Steve asked as Fury nodded.

“There are a few different houses in her community, each person has their own room and she assigns you to a house based on what level of support she deems a person needs.” He explained, taking a few steps until he was in front of me. “To ensure your safety, and that your care is put on priority, you two will be staying in her house. She only houses at most 2 people in her own home at a time, so she has made appropriate arrangements to keep you safe and as comfortable as possible for your stay.” He said as I nodded, a pause coming from him before he looked at Steve.

“I have also given her permission to attempt to remove the trigger words programming from him. You are to sit in when she does this to ensure he does not hurt her when this happens.” He said and I felt my body tense. God please, I don’t want anyone using those words again on me. Steve looked at me in worry before looking back at fury.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked as Fury nodded.

“I have complete trust that she can handle this.” He said, a moment of silence as he looked at Steve’s unconvinced face before he sighed, doing something on his ipad before he gave it to me. “Her name is Flora Martinez. I think her life experience alone should give you a better idea of why she is specially equipped to handle this.” He said, moving to sit back down as my eyes scanned over her file. No photo, but there were basics of how she was found, how she says she escaped, then my eyes landed on her age and I felt my breath stop.

“Born in 1743?” I asked quietly, Steve looking over my shoulder as his own wide eyes turned to Fury who had a small smirk resting on his face as he closed his eye, pretending to sleep.

“How is she still alive?” He asked, Fury peaked his eye open.

“I asked her the same question when I met her. I still haven’t got an answer.” He said as I sat back in shock at this before my brows furrowed.

“So, I’m supposed to be getting help from some old lady literally on death's door, or be forever confined to a concrete room.” I said, scoffing slightly as I closed my eyes. “Might as well throw me in the room now.” I sighed, Steve lightly smacking my flesh arm making me turn and glare at him.

“Hey, don’t talk like that.” He said before his eyes softened. “Please Buck, just give this a chance.” He pleaded, making me sigh, nodding as Fury’s smirk never left his face, a small quiet settling over us as I looked over the minimal information about her. For being almost 300 years old, SHIELD really doesn’t have that much on her.

[phoebeegreen3]

Capri Persson (F1) ⸺ 02. I DON'T WANNA TALK

🏎 SUMMARY: What if the best driver of recent years isn't actually him? What if the best driver is actually hiding something else? Would he still be the best? Or just a simple fraud? 📓 GENRE: secret identity / rivals to lovers / he felt first, she felt harder / soulmates / slow burn 📧 WORD COUNT: 2118 📬 PARTS: book one (two parts) / CP9, book two (one part) 🏁TAGLIST: @heyyurl @dreadity @moonchouus @wierdflowerpower @anunstablefangirl @deaddumblbumble @a-bbles (let me know in the comments if you want to be part) 🏆 CAPRIPERSSON.MASTERLIST

Saudi Arabian GP, Middle East. March, 2023

“Shit,” I muttered. “Shit, shit, shit,” I repeated and ran to grab my bag from a couch in the motorhome. I frantically rummaged through my backpack, pulling everything out, looking for what I needed. I opened the smallest pockets and searched, entering a full-blown crisis. This shouldn’t be happening to me. Why couldn’t I just be regular?

I hurried to look for something in the bathroom, but there was no sign of tampons or pads either. I couldn’t just use toilet paper, and my pants were already stained. How could I expect the bathroom to be stocked with basic women’s products if it was supposed to be used by a man? Who would even think that a woman from the team might need pads? Right?

“Fuck!” I screamed through clenched teeth, frustrated, glancing at the clock on my phone. I was running late for Saturday’s qualifying. Jean was in a meeting, and I wasn’t going to call Franz about this. I had to fix it on my own.

I looked at my pants once more in the mirror and checked every surface I had leaned against to make sure I hadn’t stained anything else. At a glance, I didn't see any mess, so that was good — meanwhile, I still had a red stain on my butt. I had started putting on my uniform when I noticed, and I hated that feeling. I hadn’t brought any pads because, clearly, I must have a sign on my forehead that says "idiot." How was that even possible?

I thought about my options. The nearest bathroom was in the paddock, among all the spectators, across the alley. But I didn’t trust that it would have pads available either. Of course, this could only happen to me, and right when I was most in a rush.

I hadn’t brought any jacket either, so I grabbed a notebook I found in the motorhome and ran toward the paddock alley. I was desperate. I couldn’t be late for qualifying over something like this — I couldn’t allow it.

Holding the notebook behind me, covering my backside, I almost ran across the large dining hall we all shared and hurried into the bathrooms, grateful that no one was there since qualifying was about to begin. But to my disappointment, the women’s bathroom didn’t have any pad or tampon dispensers. I wanted to die right there. Toilet paper just wouldn’t be enough — I couldn’t race like that.

“Oh,” I heard someone murmur behind me in a pitying tone, and I realized I hadn’t kept the notebook covering the stain on my pants. When I turned around, it was a girl with chocolate-colored hair and tanned skin. Her hair was long and beautiful, and the way she stood showed a certain elegance, clearly reflected in her outfit.

“Sorry,” I apologized as if I had done something wrong. The girl looked back at me after turning away. I didn’t know what to do, and somehow, I felt extremely embarrassed.

“You don’t have to apologize. It happens to all of us,” she smiled kindly, but I was starting to feel the cramps in my body. “I don’t know if I should ask, but... do you need help? Do you have pads or tampons? These places don’t even bother to have good hand soap.”

“You would save my life if you did,” I confessed, lowering my gaze and holding onto the sink.

“No need to say it twice,” she smiled and placed her bag on the sink, approaching me and searching inside it. “My name’s Carmen. Yours?”

“America,” I answered.

“Beautiful name. I can totally picture having a daughter named America,” she smiled as she searched. “America Russell-Mundt,” she murmured very quietly with a playful smile. I frowned.

“Russell?” I asked, and she looked up.

“Pads or tampons?”

“Whatever you have.”

“I’ll give you both, just in case. Take them,” she offered, and I slipped into one of the stalls. “Do you want me to see if I can find you another pair of pants or something?” she asked from outside, and I thought about it for a second.

“Would you do that for me?”

“Oh, honey. Don’t even doubt it. I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright? It’ll be quick.”

And so it was. Carmen showed up just as fast as I was beating myself up over the situation and passed a pair of black Mercedes track pants under the stall door.

“Hope you’re not a Red Bull fan,” she laughed, and I smiled, taking them. So she was Carmen Mundt. Jean had a bit of an obsession with Carmen’s style, although I always ended up dressing like a French philosophy student.

I changed as quickly as I could and came out to wash my hands. Carmen was still there.

“Better?” she asked.

“Way better. I don’t know how to thank you, if you hadn’t walked in, I probably would’ve stayed there forever. I didn’t even bring my phone from the desperation,” I shook my head, frustrated.

“Don’t worry, Am. This happens to all of us; you don’t have to be embarrassed. Plus, those pants look fantastic on you. I think I should give you more merch.”

“Oh no, don’t even try,” I laughed. “Mercedes is having a bit of an underwhelming season.”

“Are you a fan or do you work here?” she asked, half-curious and half-amused.

“Kind of both,” I dried my hands and glanced at the wall clock in the bathroom. “Well, Carmen, I should go. I don’t know how to thank you enough for what you did for me.”

“Don’t mention it. We’re women — that’s what we do.”

“I’ll make sure to send you something to thank you, don’t doubt it,” I squeezed her hand before leaving. “Bye!” I waved and ran back to my motorhome to change and head to qualifying.

*** *** ***

“You have no idea what happened to me today,” I told Jean as we left the motorhome.

“I leave you alone for two seconds, and you get your period? What kind of attention-seeking technique is that?” she joked, and I couldn’t help laughing as I proceeded to tell her about Carmen.

“You told her your name was America?” Jean frowned, questioning exactly what I had just told her.

“Yes. What’s wrong with that? Technically, I didn’t lie. And for your information, the Russell-Mundt heiress could have my middle name.”

“Ridiculous,” Jean rolled her eyes playfully as we walked toward the press area to deliver the statement about the quals — by the way, I got P3.

“How did your meeting go?” I asked her.

“Well, Am…” she bit her lip, thinking about how to word what had happened minutes before qualifying started. “It’s obvious Nyck’s not doing too well, but the team still has faith.”

“They have faith?” I frowned, puzzled. “Jean, it’s barely been three races.”

“I know, but you know who’s in charge here. Christian wants upgrades for De Vries as soon as possible. He can’t blame the car because you’re doing fine. But all Nyck has done is finish among the last two since preseason. Horner and Franz are discussing it.”

In a way, they were right. Nyck had been eliminated in the first GP and hadn’t made it past Q1 today, same as the previous race. The car was fine, so obviously, the problem was the driver, meaning the whole garage would be pressuring him tomorrow to at least finish fifteenth.

“I hope they don’t kick him out,” I sighed. “It would be the second teammate change in less than four months.”

“Do you miss him?” Jean asked out of nowhere after a silence, and I turned to look at her.

“What?”

“Sorry. Franz should be asking you this, but he sent me instead,” she explained as we entered the press office hallways. “Do you miss Pierre?”

“We didn’t even talk, Jean. What kind of question is that? Are you working for ESPN now?”

“I should be. They don’t pay me extra for this nonsense,” she joked. “But seriously, we never talked about it. After everything that happened, you never talk to anyone…”

“He was a good teammate, okay? But just another teammate. I’ll have hundreds throughout my career. I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I answered firmly.

“You don’t want to talk about Pierre, or you don’t want to talk because it brings...?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Period,” I said, picking up the pace. “I don’t want to bring it up. I don’t want to dwell on it. I can’t stay stuck on that ending. I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It. Alright?” I snapped, and the topic came crashing into me even though I didn’t want it to.

In the middle of the hallway, without even noticing, we bumped into someone, and I turned around, annoyed — without realizing it was the very topic I didn’t want to talk about.

Maybe I did miss Pierre a little. Or rather, I missed the idea that one day, I’d be brave enough to tell him the truth because he was my teammate. Racing is an incredibly lonely place — very few people truly understand what it feels like. Exactly 20 people. And the closest to you is your teammate, no matter the competition. They’re the ones you should rely on. You can have friends outside the team, but there are contracts preventing you from sharing information — so your best ally is your teammate. As much as your worst enemy.

Since the beginning, I had the idea Pierre would be the first to know. I grew attached to the idealized version of the situation, carrying it with me for a long time. Maybe one day I would ask him to follow me to the motorhome after a race and take off my helmet in front of him. It was significant because he was my teammate, and sometimes seeing him isolated or awkwardly joining other people’s conversations broke my heart. But when Franz told me he was leaving the team for this season like it was nothing to me, it actually felt strange. We hadn’t even talked about it. Nothing. But I couldn’t deny he had been an incredible teammate despite everything on track.

It was strange because I hadn’t realized how much it would affect me until now. I hadn’t given it importance because I had a tie to break with Max — and suddenly, I found myself in a moment when I needed someone who truly understood, not someone who pretended to. That’s when you realize you need your teammate. I even thought about calling him, but it was absurd. Three years as teammates, and I was going to call him now that everything was over? What would be the point? We weren’t close — there was no reason to stay in touch. And then you realize just how lonely you really are — in a hotel room, rubbing ice from the bucket you asked for along with vodka over the area that hurts after crashing at the final corner, losing your whole season, while watching the news about the new world champion.

That’s why I didn’t want to bring it up now. But I kept crashing into the problem over and over again — and there it was again.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“And you drive like this?” I muttered grumpily, turning my back to him. I could feel Max’s gaze lingering on me, confused. Jean said nothing, and the people with him kept talking.

With the memory of his eyes spinning around in my head, I glanced at him once more — and stupidly panicked when we made eye contact.

How could I be scared to look at him when I had just beaten him at the first race of the season?

Probably because I had engraved his victorious stare in my mind all winter as the most torturous reminder of what it meant to lose.

“What just happened?” Jean whispered as we turned the corner.

“You just summoned the topic I didn’t want to talk about. That’s what happened,” I huffed, hundreds of memories breathing down my neck, hunting me like predators.

“Maybe you should do something about it,” she said as if it were that easy, and I looked her straight in the eyes, making it clear she had no idea what she was talking about.

“You’re literally traumatized, Capri,” she whispered very quietly. “You need to talk about it.”

“I need to drop this off at the office, bring Carmen something to thank her, then get to the hotel, take off these ridiculous pants with the rival’s logo and name, and get to training after changing my tampon. That’s what I need. So if you don’t mind, I’m too rushed and bleeding out to keep talking about this.”

PREVIOUS: 01.BACK ON TRACK

NEXT: 03.ABOUT THE TEAM

[acid13rain]

Innocence.

Crayons scattered on the floor around a bright-eyed being 

who doesn’t seem to have a worry about where they place their feet.

Running up and down hallways giggling, attempting to escape being caught. 

Chasing butterflies through the grass, bare feet jumping over roots jutting out from the ground. 

You’re told the words ‘Savor your childhood’ without knowing what it means.

What does it mean?They never explained, they simply smiled and said, ‘You’ll see, everyone does’.

It never made sense when it mattered. Why didn’t it?Why couldn’t you have understood? 

Why did you wish so often, telling yourself you couldn’t wait to grow up. 

Everyone says that. 

Then suddenly everyone is scrambling to turn back the clock.

What happened? 

You tell your parents that you’re big and can be ‘like the grownups’ but then suddenly

You wish that they would hold you like a little kid again.

What happened to their gentle smiles as they kneeled down to tie your bright-colored shoes that flashed with light when you stepped so you’d spend your time stomping wherever you could just to see that flash of color.

They didn’t make them in your size anymore. 

What happened to free time after school? Now you’re chained to endless amounts of paper. 

Digital paper.

You’re constantly told ‘You spend too much time on your phone’. Too many screens. 

It’s not like no one tried to make that not happen. We spend our entire lives on a screen. 

Our education now depends on a screen.

Everything seems to depend on a screen no wonder we start to also. 

What happened to counting fake plastic pennies and the colorful cubes to use for math? Now it’s a page put up on a screen that you’re told to write down. Needing help seems like a chore. 

Why ask?Everyone will stare at you. Avoid attention. What happened? 

‘Never be afraid to ask questions.’

But what if those people made you afraid in the first place.

As a child you were convinced that you knew. You knew because you could ask. 

As a teenager.

You pretend to know because the only thing you do know is that you know nothing. 

Not knowing is weakness. 

It’s not endearing.

Innocence wasn’t explained as a child. 

Angels were innocent. 

Someone who didn’t do something bad was innocent.

But you never know the true meaning of innocence until it's ripped away from your hands and you watch life take it away from you when you aren’t ready to think about it being gone. 

That’s what growing up is. 

The loss of innocence.

~~~~~ i don't have a lot of experience with writing poems so apologies if it has poor quality. i'm open to constructive criticism but please do be nice i'm only 14 lol. writing is a passion of mine and i do plan to make more posts involving poetry or other.

[lesbiahonest24]

Who? - Larissa Weems x Reader

I hated being insecure. Y/n hasn’t given me any reason to doubt her but something is still gnawing at me in the back of my mind.

Recently I’ve noticed that she’s been on her phone a lot.

I felt bad for thinking like this. But I couldn’t help it.

She was always occupied on her phone. She would giggle as she was texting. What’s so funny?

I just want to know who she’s talking to. Who’s making me go mad? Who’s making me feel like I need to ask her about this?

I’m more upset because I shouldn’t be letting something like this bother me. We’re adults.

Today was supposed to be an us day. That’s all I wanted.

Every time we did something she was on her phone. She was always checking it. Always on it.

Today was a long day. I just wanted to go back and see her. That’s all I wanted.

When I got home I heard her footsteps rushing towards me.

She greeted me with a smile and kissed my cheek.

It was times like this that made me feel guilty for letting my mind wander. She’s given me no reason to think like this.

“How was work? I heard there was some big commotion that happened down there” she followed me as I sat my things down. “Exhausting. I want to just get in bed.”

She trailed behind me as I went to the bedroom.

“Wednesday caused a problem again so I had to deal with that on top of all my meetings and covering a class because a teacher called out and I couldn’t find a replacement” I continued. “Well at least you’re home now and we’re at the end of the week” she spoke. I glanced back at her and saw she was on her phone as she spoke to me.

I rolled my eyes before walking into our room.

I ignored her as I went to grab what I needed to get in the shower.

I heard her talking to me. I heard her calling my name but everything was annoying me. My whole day annoyed me. Her being on that phone annoyed me.

What was on it? Who was on it? Who was she texting constantly?

She was still on it as she talked to me. I was fighting with myself on saying something or not. But in the end I couldn’t help myself. It’s been weeks now.

“Am I boring” I spoke cutting her off from whatever she was saying. “What? Why would you ask that?” She still barely looked up from the phone.

“You’ve barely looked at me the last couple of weeks. All you’re worried about is your phone. Did I do something? Is there someone else?” I inhaled as my mind started running a mile a minute. “Did you fall out of love with me” I exhaled. I said it before I even processed it.

I looked anywhere but at her. I didn’t want to hear the response.

“I’m very much in love with you Larissa” she said as she came over and took a hold of my hands. “I’m so in love with you that I’ve been planning a trip for us because the school year is ending. I know this has been an unusual year for you but you’ve adapted to all the challenges and I see how hard you work and thought you could use a little get away. I have been on my phone a lot and I apologize. I have someone making reservations at places for us and she’s also suggesting things for us to do so I’m just trying to reply as fast as I can to her. I didn’t realize how it would look to you. I can show you if you want” she spoke softly.

Of course my mind jumped to the worse conclusion. I stayed silent as I avoided her gaze. I felt worse than before now.

“I’m sorry” I mumbled. “Don’t apologize. I need to apologize. I’m sorry that my actions made you even think that way. You had every right to question me. I want you to know that I would never cheat on you though. I’m too in love with you for me to do that. Not to mention I can’t stand cheaters” she chuckled.

“Im sorry Y/n. I shouldn’t have let my mind wander to that.” I still wasn’t looking directly at her. She dropped my hands and cupped my face to force me to look at her. “You can’t help where your mind goes. Mine would’ve went there too. Do you want to go through my phone to ease your mind? I want you to know I’m telling the truth.”

“No I believe you.”

She softly kissed me before peppering kisses all over my face.

“I should’ve communicated. I’m sorry.” “No I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. You’ve never given me a reason to even think that.”

“I love you Larissa. I don’t want you to ever doubt that. I’m sorry my actions made it seem like I didn’t. I don’t want you to feel guilty either. I can see that look on your face. You didn’t do anything wrong.” “I love you.”

[ritualove]

Alma smiled at Copper's explanation, "I understand." Though, she didn't. It was obvious there was a whole situation she didn't know about, and she really didn't want to press Copper for answers. Then again, she felt like she might be able to help, and if there was any chance of that being the case, she wouldn't want to miss it. After staring blankly at the jewellery they still stood infront of, she decided to just leave it. It wasn't her place. Though she could probably help if she knew more... Alright she will consider it more but she's pretty sure she will just leave it. Maybe.

"Well they are very pretty names!" Alma gleefully said before realising the possible discordant implications of her calling Copper's name pretty. While she secretly thought it was pretty silly, her parents and church had always instilled strict gender norms, so some deep part of her pushed for her to fix her mistake. "Or, you know, handsome names! Handsome name and pretty name. Yeah." While awkward, it saved her from any offense given. Unless Copper had already felt offended, she better fix that too in anycase. "Sorry." Classic, smart, the perfect word to wrap up the situation.

Alma felt stuck between a rock and a hard place thinking about Copper's proposed apology idea. On one hand, she knew in her heart that no amount of jewellery would make her feel better if someone hurt her as much as what Copper makes it out. On the other, it really wasn't her place to dictate what Copper should do, she didn't know anything, Her mind went back to her early teachings in the church, foundational things that she learnt in her youth completely seperate from any religious bias. Apologies mean nothing unless they come with change. She felt like what she had in mind was pertinent enough to say, so turning from the jewellery cabinet to face Copper with a little too much enthusiasm for the situation, she proclaimed, "Well... It sounds like you don't think anything wrong has happened. Or not that but, what happened was necessary to happen?" Her thoughts were betraying her at somepoint between her brain and her lips, she shook her head and retried, "What I mean is that you shouldn't try too hard to make things right. To you, whatever happened needed to happen, even if it was against whatever Hypatia wanted. You understand why she's angry, and you want her to understand your feelings too." She let out an exasperated sigh, feeling like she hasn't quite gotten out what she wanted to say. Pausing for just a moment, she tried again, "Let her be angry at you. You can't fix what happened, and it sounds like it was good for you. If she cared, she would be happy as well. Not that she's bad for being angry. That's understandable. Obviously. Or not obviously but..." She let out another breath, "Apologise, let her be angry, and give her the chance to think about it. She's your sister, family always come back around for each other." She was uncertain with whether or not she was actually done, but by the fact she didn't continue to speak, it would be a pretty good assumption that she was.

Right away, Copper wished he hadn’t said anything to Alma about what he was apologizing for. He could tell by the look on her face that she was stunned, and without knowing the context, he could only imagine what she was thinking. Hell, Hypatia knew the context and was still pissed at him. And then Alma replied, and Copper couldn’t help but laugh, especially when she amended her statement. “It’s pretty bad, yeah,” he said with a laugh, though he wasn’t laughing at what he’d done, only at Alma’s reaction. More seriously though, Copper vaguely explained a bit of the situation. “There really were good reasons for me leaving,” he told Alma. “Some…things happened, and I was doing it for everyone’s own good. Hypatia just doesn’t see it that way.” That was all Copper said about it, and he just smiled at Alma now, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Glad that he hadn’t made Alma uncomfortable, Copper replied, “Yeah, my dads wanted us all to have ‘powerful’ names as they say, choosing ‘inspirational’ historical figures to name us after. Those are their words, powerful and inspirational. So they settled on Aristotle, Copernicus, and Hypatia. And I got a double whammy with the middle name Galileo. Interesting is definitely one way to describe it, though I wouldn’t have agreed when I was younger.” Now though Copper liked his name. At Alma’s question, Copper explained, “Well I plan to also write a heartfelt apology letter, but I think it might carry a little extra oomph if I include something fancy and/or shiny. Hypatia is not above bribes.” But Copper understood what Alma was saying, and he leaned against the side of the jewelry case and sighed. “Even that might not be enough,” he admitted. “She’s really angry, and I see her point of view. I just wish she could see mine too.” Copper knew this might not mean much to Alma without knowing the full story.