#I hope they do it^^ It's a seasonal tradition at this point (even if they do it probably won't drop until late next year lol)

[honeyspotpie]

Dndadders is it too early to be placing bets on which season 3 PC will receive the in-character patreon EP/album treatment.... Guys...

[bunni-v1]

Could I ask for your headcanons on how the staff would take care of/look after the reader? I’m a sucker for the fics where they take a parental role

How The Staff Takes Care of You

TW: None!

Info: Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Vargas and Sam x Reader (Platonic)

🍓This one is short but sweet. I’ve spent a lot of time on the event, but I want to start on other requests outside of it too. This one looked fun and easy so I got it out within about an hour or so. I hope you enjoy!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck

Crowley

-Lets get one thing straight, Crowley does not take care of you

-It’s hard to even say that Crowley cares for you. It’s hard to say he cares for anyone other than himself.

-Still… he does do some things correctly.

-He gives you a place to live (which he threatened to take away), food (which he threatened to take away), and funding (which he… threatened to take away).

-He DOES come to ACTUALLY care for you, just… not in the traditional sense, I suppose. 

-He has frequent check ins with you to ensure that you are doing well.

-Occasionally he stops by ramshackle just to chat with you and ensure you have company.

-Believe it or not, he set up a lot of the things you do specifically so that he can ensure you are getting along with other students and have a support system here.

-He lets you keep grim around — even though he has cause countless issues for student and staff alike.

-He’s like your weird uncle. You hardly ever actually see Crowley around, but you know that he is looking out for you in his own way. 

-Thats all that matters, right?

Crewel

-Crewel is also anther oddball when it comes to how he shows that he cares.

-He is… aware that Crowley does not do a very good job at caring for you, and he’s a bit easier on you because of that.

-He’s probably harder on you homework-wise than most other students though.

-He wants to see you excel and succeed in his class.

-It would be the biggest fuck you to Crowley ever, so he works hard to make sure that you prove yourself to everyone.

-He makes sure that you’re sleeping and eating well, and if he sees that you are not, he makes you stay ofter class to talk to him so you both can find a way to solve this issue.

-If it’s money issues keeping you from eating, don’t worry. He’s now making you a lunch — or at least he gives you some money to eat.

-The nicest thing he does for you, however, is he gets you clothes.

-Your uniform is pretty… bad, and he feels bad for you.

-So, he takes matters into his own hands and gets you a nice new one that actually fits you.

-He and Trein have a rivalry over who treats you better and who you like more. (Trein is winning by like one point and it drives Crewel crazy).

-Crewel very much is the one to tell you “Boys are stupid, don’t date — especially not the ones here.” Lol

-Again, more like a very ambitious uncle who just really loves his family but never wants kids of his own.

-Oh, also, his dogs love you. So that’s a plus.

Trein

-He has two girls of his own, and he really does love kids, he’s just… jaded from years of being a teacher for snotty kids like Ace.

-You though? He likes you a lot.

-You’re a troublemaker, sure, but you always try your best in classes and have been making the best of your situation.

-Speaking of, Trein hates the way Crowley is so lackadaisical about your position and treatment.

-You are a living person? How could he just leave you to almost starve or freeze in your rickety old dorm?

-Trein visits your dorm frequently after his school day is done, just to ensure you have food and are able to stay warm/cool in the respective seasons.

-If he finds that you do not have enough food or cannot afford it, he talks to both Sam and Crowley and scolds them into lowering prices for you and raising your passive income.

-He still buys you things with his own money.

-If you fall asleep in class and you look like you need it, he won’t bother you. 

-Tells you that you can always come to him if you’re having trouble with anyone, and he will most definitely deal with them.

-Do you need extra help with homework, he’ll stay late just to ensure you’re understanding the material. 

-Seriously the number one dad at NRC, and he’s really happy to have you around since you remind him so much of his girls.

Vargas

-The resident promoter of a healthy lifestyle and great workout routine at NRC.

-You don’t really spend that much time around Vargas, so you two aren’t close, but he knows about you through the other members of staff.

-He knows how Crowley treats you, and while he isn’t one to play favorites… he can make an exception.

-Especially since he knows you aren’y always eating enough thanks to your limited budget.

-The last thing he needs is a student passing out in his class.

-He still pushes you to work out and participate, but if you’re looking like a ghost when you walk into class he’s going to make you go change and get some rest.

-He’s a gym nut, not a monster.

-He’s good with dieting though, so he’s able to tell Trein and Crewel and Same what would be best for you to eat in your condition.

-So yeah, he’s likely the least involved in your life, but he does help you from behind the scenes.

-It’s better than Crowley, so that’s a win in his books.

Sam

-Other than Trein, Sam probably sees you the most frequently out of everyone.

-You come into his shop at least once a day for something.

-At first he treated you the same as every other student, charing you ridiculously hight prices for typically cheap stuff.

-Then one day you came in looking for something to eat, cause you’d run out of what little Crowley gave you, but you didn’t have enough money.

-He nearly cried at how heartbroken you looked when you realized you couldn’t get anything.

-He gave you the whole meal for free, didn’t even ask for what you had.

-Trein is also on his ass about how high his prices are, so he purposefully has a “discount” every time you’re there to buy something.

-He also gets to know you through your shopping and makes and effort to talk to you to feel out where you are physically and mentally.

-He reports what he notices back to Trein and Crowley, just to make sure someone who has the power to is taking care of you.

-You’ve got a friend in Sam, that’s for sure.

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Fifteen - Rhythm of our hearts

♡♡♡

Daphne, the beautiful duchess, had spent her time in London wisely. She used what sorces she had to help Marina Thompson track down her far away love.

You still had not seen much of Daphne. She had been quite busy, and you were really starting to miss her presence. You had hoped to catch up with her at some point, but you would just have to wait for the next opportunity to present itself.

The concert. You were all dressed up to go. Your mother had been gushing about this. Lord Hardy was going to be in attendance, and according to your mother, he had asked about you only a few days prior. You put on your nicest gown and prettiest jewellery for the occasion.

Who knew? Perhaps something would spark.

There was also the fact that the queen would be in attendance tonight.

When you arrived, the atmosphere was wonderful. You arrived on your mother's arm, and you smile at some familiar faces. You spot the duke and duchess, and you wonder if tonight you may get the chance to talk to Daphne.

Benedict is stood by himself drinking champagne as he watches the gentleman talking to Cressida. He was at the studio. With Henry.

Then he spots Granville and approaches him. Henry turns toward Benedict. "Bridgerton."

The two excuse themselves from the others to talk elsewhere.

"I would simply like to understand your... situation." Benedict says.

Henry sighs softly.

"I would just like to understand."

"It is simple. I am in love with Lord Wetherby." Granville tells him.

"You're married." Benedict points out.

"And our marriage affords my wife her freedoms and protections," Henry explains. "It is a happier union than most of the people in this room have, I assure you."

"What is the advantage for the young ladies Lord Wetherby is courting?" Benedict asks. "Do they all share this understanding?"

Henry chuckles.

"What about honour? Romance?" Benedict continues.

"What would you know of either?" Henry asks in return. "We live under constant threat of danger. I risk my life every day for love. You have no idea what it is like to be in a room with someone you cannot live without... and yet still feel as though you are oceans apart. Stealing your glances, disguising your touches. We cannot so much as smile at each other... without first ensuring no one is watching."

Benedict is silent.

"It takes courage... to live outside the traditional expectations of society. You talk of doing the same... but perhaps it is merely just that... all talk."

Henry Granville walks away.

Benedict is left with his thoughts. As he lets all that sink in, he catches a glimpse of you across the room. For a moment, he feels his chest fill with warmth. He thinks about approaching you, but then he sees Lord Hardy.

You're smiling.

Benedict remains where he is stood and watches quietly. Alone.

A second son without a mark on the world, and now no companion to confide in. Nothing was coming up roses for Benedict Bridgerton.

Inside the concert hall, you take your seat beside Lord Hardy. Your mother sat on the other side of you, keeping her eyes focused on the crowds, allowing you time to talk to your companion.

You smile as he speaks to you. His voice is smooth, and you rather like the way he says your name.

Benedict is stood by the door watching you. It seems your evening is occupied, so much for stealing you away this evening. Then again, perhaps that is for the best. Benedict isn't sure his thoughts are put together tonight.

Eloise comes up beside him looking rather desperate. "How long is this concert?" She asks her brother.

"About three hours... Four?"

Eloise looks less than pleased.

"Though, uh, I certainly have already heard enough," Benedict says, glancing your way briefly.

"You are my favourite brother. Do you know that?" Eloise says, smiling at him.

He chuckles and takes his sister's arm. The two leave the concert hall.

You don't see him go.

♡♡♡

The two siblings sit in the carriage quietly, heading home. Eloise is caught up in her thoughts. She thought she was on a secret mission from the queen to discover Lady Whistledown's identity, but tonight, the queen had brushed Elosie off and stated she had hired people to do the job for her.

Benedict was lost in his own mind, too. He was thinking about you. He had hoped to pass the evening pleasantly by your side. The concert itself was nothing of any actual interest. You both could have talked quietly, enjoying each others company.

Yet it seemed you had made up your mind. Your pursuit to find a husband was possibly baring fruit. Lord Hardy seemed a nice enough man, he supposed. Benedict didn't know too well, but je certainly seemed to have your attention tonight.

So, Benedict should do something to enjoy his evening, too. A thought comes to his mind.

He reaches up and taps on the top of the carriage. "I woul like to make a stop and pick up a friend."

Eloise looks at her brother. "A friend?"

"Should I not have a friend?" He asks her.

Eloise chuckles.

"I'm not bound by the rules of society," he tells her. "Please do not tell mother."

Eloise scoffs softly in amusement.

The carriage pulls up outside the modiste. Eloise looks at the shop front with confusion. "Why are we here?"

Genevieve climbs in.

Eloise looks at her brother.

Genevieve looks at Eloise, surprised to see her.

"This is my sister, Eloise, and we will be dropping her at home," Benedict says.

The carriage moves again.

Silence fills the air.

"How was your night, ma chérie?" Genevieve asks.

"It was... everything I expected. Horrible and terribly boring."

"So this is why you do not wish to lower your hems?" Genevieve chuckles.

"The entire ton were there, and I did not have a single worthwhile exchange." Eloise tells her.

"The entire ton? You mean, everyone except for the Featheringtons?"

"Yes, everyone except... them." Eloise is struck with a thought.

Eloise falls silent.

"Is everything well, Eloise?" Benedict asks.

She looks up at him. "Hmm? Yeah."

Eloise looks at Genevieve again.

♡♡♡

The concert has begun. You and Lord Hardy look up at the stage as the music plays. Your arm rests next to his.

The and duchess have a box. Neither of them look at each other.

Violet sits in a box with Anthony. She looks across at her daughter. Anthony casts his eyes down to the people below. He sees a family face.

Tonight is filled with all kinds of feelings from everyone around the room.

The orchestra was rather good.

Lord Hardy keeps his head bowed low, close to you, so he may exchange words with you quietly. You smile as you respond to him.

Perhaps tonight will change things for you after all.

The duke reaches for his wife's hand. She smiles softly. The music continues to play, and then she looks down. The duke wat he's her. Her eyes meet his, and she looks at him. She flees the box.

Her courses have come.

Violet flees her box to go see Daphne.

Fingers curl around your gloved ones. You look down to see him holding your hand. You lift your eyes to Lord Hardy. He smiles at you and then turns his eyes back to the concert.

Your mother sits straighter in her seat.

Yes, tonight, there are many emotions being felt. Some hearts are breaking. Some are yearning. Yours is racing.

You are glad you came.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[disneyprincemuke]

i got the best friends * fem!driver

they have a birthday tradition that stemmed from her efforts to make sure that they were homesick spending their birthdays so far from home

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hi i have another update are you ready are you ready bc i am not

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> april 6 2023

the bed dips, oscar groaning as he nuzzles his face into his pillow. “no.”

“yes!” a shriek fills his once silent room as the other side of the bed dips once more. “happy birthday, oscar jack piastri!”

he groans, “not the full name!”

“oh, good morning, you guys,” he hears lily say, feeling her starting to pull the blankets off her body. “oh, pancakes! if oscar doesn’t want them, can i have them?”

“i made you your own pancakes!”

“how is that supposed to make me feel special on my birthday?” oscar finally sits up, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the sight of his best friends kneeling between his and lily’s body. “why does she get pancakes too?”

the girl, facing him slightly blinks at him blankly. “because i made the pancakes.”

oscar tilts his head, moving his focus to logan who’s also holding a plate of pancakes. logan shakes his head, “i made them — she forced me to make another batch for lily.”

“okay, enough yapping,” the girl waves them off.

on her plate is a stack of 3 pancakes with a lit orange candle stuck on the top. it’s a yearly tradition that started when he turned 14, oscar waking up to pancakes on the morning of his birthday spent in her household.

she had made an attempt at cooking pancakes only once in her life: the morning of oscar’s 14th birthday in 2015, claiming that she didn’t want him to feel homesick spending the day with a family he’s not even related to. it wasn’t a good attempt because logan took over the minute she got eggshells in the batter they were making together.

they ate pancakes that morning before they left to spend the day outside to celebrate oscar’s birthday.

and it’s been a tradition ever since for anybody’s birthday.

“happy birthday, osc!” she grins, holding the plate towards him. “make a wish.”

he takes a deep breath, catching lily’s stare as she sits next to the girl on the bed, then he blows away on the flame. “what are we doing today?”

logan shrugs, taking a spot next to lily on the bed with his plate of pancakes to distribute to everyone else. “she suggested karting at this track nearby.”

“or,” she points out, reaching out to logan’s plate to get herself a pancake, “i reckon we can stay home and watch movies and play mario kart.” she turns to oscar with her lips pressed together. “unless you made plans with lily.”

lily perks up and shakes her head. “god, no! we didn’t make plans!”

“wow,” logan mutters, turning to look at oscar. “can you believe her?”

“no, it’s not like that, of course!” lily shrieks, cheeks flushing as she waves her hands in the air to dismiss logan’s accusations. “i just know that you guys like spending the day together on your birthdays. besides, we celebrated yesterday.”

oscar hums, nodding his head as he starts to devour his own set of pancakes. “yeah, we’ve been doing that for years so that you don’t interrupt us doing couple stuff.”

“maybe oscar’s the one who hates us, dude,” logan mutters, looking down momentarily to sell his emotions. “i wouldn’t be shocked if that were the truth.”

the girl plops herself at the foot of the bed, sighing loudly. “what do you suppose we should do today, birthday kid?”

-> december 1 2023

she feels her body being shaken, slowly pulling her out of her sleep. she lifts her head from her pillow slightly and takes a peek with one eye open. “logan? what time is it?”

“midnight,” logan whispers, his face slightly illuminated by the flame from the small candle in his hands. “oscar and lily are dead asleep right now.”

“i would hope so,” she whispers, moving slightly to sit up properly. “it’s midnight — you made pancakes at midnight?”

he shakes his head, moving slightly and holding something out to her. “i got you a cupcake. oscar and lily said they’d make the pancakes as per usual tomorrow morning.”

she tilts her head. “why–”

“could you make a wish and blow the candle out first before you have to eat a cupcake with candle wax as a topping?” logan rambles, watching the candle intensely.

for some reason, they don’t own a lighter in their apartment, so he had to venture back to the kitchen stove for a fire source to get the candle lit and walk back to her bedroom. waking her up was the hardest part — she jumps up when woken up abruptly and seeing that he’s holding a cupcake with a flame on it, that wasn’t the best outcome.

she nods hurriedly, leaning forward to blow the candle out in a swift motion. the flame is extinguished and leaves them in the dark and silence of her bedroom. she reaches over to her bedside table, turning on her lamp to finally catch a look at logan’s flushed cheeks and droopy eyes from his tiredness.

“so what’s the cupcake for again?” she whispers, moving up and patting the empty spot on the other side of her bed. she takes the cupcake into her hands when logan crawls over to the empty spot. “thank you though.”

logan shrugs, tucking himself under her blankets with her. “felt like you needed an extra cupcake for your 21st birthday.” he puts his hands on his lap and turns to her with a grin. “happy birthday — you’re officially an adult everywhere now.”

she grins, “thank you.”

-> december 31 2023

“happy new year’s eve!” she throws her hands in the air, hair up in a ponytail as she approaches logan.

logan perks up, walking away from his once fruitful conversation with his brother. he throws his arms around her smaller frame, tightening his arms around her. “you made it!”

“of course,” she snorts, pulling away and taking a step back. “and, duh, it’s my best friend’s birthday!”

typically, she spends new year’s eve back in europe with her family. but she’s got team commitments in new york right as the year starts and it was easier — and cheaper — to travel from miami than it was to come straight from home.

“pancakes?”

“i made them!” she grins as logan slings an arm around her shoulders, walking towards the building. “i set them in the room your mother brought me to, though. you don’t mind if i pull you away from the party for a while, right?”

“i’m sure dalton doesn’t mind.”

“oh, my gosh! i forgot to say hi to dalton!”

she tries to spin out of his arms, but the younger brother of the two only reels her back into their walk towards the house. “you can say hi later. it’s my birthday, remember? birthday pancakes first.”

“right.”

they spend the walk up to the spare guest bedroom talking and giggling over the happenings of her flight to miami. surprisingly, it had gone well; well enough for her to be convinced that flying alone isn’t too bad of an ordeal.

she opens the door to the bedroom logan’s mother had prepared for her, neatly prepped and carefully catered to the younger girl. on the table in one corner of the bedroom is the pancakes that she promised with a candle lying stray on the table with a lighter next to it.

“wait, did you say you made this?” logan hums, lifting an eyebrow. “is it safe to eat?”

“so i didn’t make it,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “i didn’t have the time and you’ve said multiple times that pancakes aren’t as good when they’re cold. i bought them before i drove down here to your parents’ house.”

logan puts a hand over his chest. “aw, how sweet! you went out of your way for me?”

she lights up the candle and pokes it into the top pancake. “don’t act surprised. we’ve done this for one another forever.” she turns around and grins as logan approaches her slowly, lifting the plate. “happy birthday, logan.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgificrecs @localwhoore @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @louvrepool @inejismywife @love4lando

[lovewithmary]

I need more Alex x reader so maybe a childhood friends to lovers moment, but she’s a redbull driver 👀

Just friends where everyone but them knows they’re bound to be forever and everyone’s like when are they gonna get together. Cute snapshots of just them being sickenly inlove and oblivious. Maybe reader wins a wdc and Alex is so proud he doesn’t care that they’re in public he has to show how much he loves her and kisses her. Or maybe this happens and when one of them is interviewed they reveal they’ve been together for like 8 years at that point of something and everyone’s like jaw dropped shocked because they thought they weren’t together and just pining. Turn it on to everyone else.

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO... ALREADY LOVERS? — AA23

summary: in which the entirety of f1 is waiting for everyone's favorite childhood best friends to get together... only for them to be together the whole time

pairing: filo!redbull driver!reader x alex albon

fc: kathryn bernardo

masterlist

notes: this one was so fun to make i hope you guys like it!

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, yourusername, and 493941 others

alex_albon: in honor of yourusername's birthday, here is the annual photo dump of some of my favorite pictures of her throughout the years 🙂🫶

comments

yourusername: it's been YEARS since this tradition... how have you not run out of photos yet??? ↳ alex_albon: you keep making stupid faces and i can't help but photograph them 🤷

georgerussell63: that dog is afraid of Y/N ↳ yourusername: willow loves me ↳ alex_albon: willow runs away from you every time we go home ↳ yourusername: in my defense, willow stays with your family half the time we're racing, so she probably thinks that we're trying to kidnap her every time ↳ user1: THEY'RE PARENTS YOUR HONOR?

maxverstappen1: this is how i find out that Y/N stole my aviators... ↳ yourusername: sharing is care maximillian ↳ maxverstappen1: how many times do i have to say that isn't my name? ↳ yourusername: your parents named you max emilian, they should've named you maximillian to make it easier ↳ maxverstappen1: redbullracing can i get another teammate? this one's annoying ↳ yourusername: jokes on you, I'm the favorite 🫶 ↳ maxverstappen: you spend more time in the williams' garage than your own team's garage, IM the favorite

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 320493 others

redbullracing: happy birthday to ONE of our favorites, yourusername!

comments

user1: redbull is trying not to choose their favorite child LMAO ↳ redbullracing: if we choose one, the other will get grumpy

yourusername: look at how nice this photo is, alex_albon take notes ↳ alex_albon: take notes? who do you think redbull asked for a photo of you? 🤔 ↳ user6: not redbull knowing who to get photos of Y/N from 😭 ↳ user7: alex albon, part time f1 driver and full time photographer for Y/N

user2: alex having unlimited photos of Y/N, Y/N's dog staying with the albon's during the season, Y/N hanging in williams' garage to hang out with alex, AND the fact that alex calls his home hers??? AND THEY AREN'T EVEN TOGETHER??? ↳ user3: ALEX AND Y/N AREN'T TOGETHER??? ↳ user2: user3 NO THEY AREN'T, THEY ARE "BEST FRIENDS" 🙄 ↳ user4: doesn't alex live with Y/N half the time? they're basically married at this point ↳ landonorris: trust us, we've tried getting them together, but both of them are too stubborn ↳ georgerussell63: it's like grasping at straws, trying to get those two together ↳ user5: PLEASE not half of the 2019 rookies trying to get the other half together but failing miserably 😭😭

1193403 likes

redbullracing: Y/N L/N. FIRST-TIME WORLD CHAMPION 👑

comments

user1: MY WIFE IS A WDC LETS GOOOO

user2: is that Y/N L/N who won the 2024 wdc against max verstappen in equal machinery?

user3: congrats on winning champ can’t wait for next season 🎉

user4: once again are we surprised redbull won?

user5: clearly undeserved max was robbed ↳ user6: max isn't gonna fuck you so stop riding his dick so hard

user7: Y/NS MY GOAT

maxverstappen1: congratulations Y/N! very much deserved win for my teammate 🥳

user8: okay but now alex_albon HAS to bag her now, or else someone else will ↳ user9: FR she's a wdc now and even if she wasn't, SOOO many people (including me) want her hand in marriage ↳ maxverstappen1: alex_albon ↳ georgerussell63: alex_albon ↳ landonorris: alex_albon ↳ charles_leclerc: alex_albon ↳ lewishamilton: alex_albon ↳ valtteribottas: alex_albon ↳ schecoperez: alex_albon ↳ lance_stroll: alex_albon ↳ yukitsunoda0511: alex_albon ↳ sebastianvettel: alex_albon ↳ carlossainz55: alex_albon ↳ danielricciardo: alex_albon ↳ estebanocon: alex_albon ↳ zhouguanyou24: alex_albon ↳ pierregasly: alex_albon ↳ kevinmagnussen: alex_albon ↳ logansargeant: alex_albon ↳ oscarpiastri: alex_albon ↳ fernandoalo_oficial: alex_albon ↳ mickschumacher: alex_albon ↳ user10: PLEASE THE WAY THIS SUMMONED THE ENTIRE GRID 😭

liked by yourusername, redbullracing, williamsracing, and 1230402 others

alex_albon: a wdc and her wag 🫶

in all honesty, this was originally going to be a happy anniversary post commemorating our 8th year together, but our anniversary just so happened to coincide with the day you won a wdc, so why not greet you both times?

Y/N, i'm so proud of you and everything you've accomplished. i've seen firsthand what you've done and what you can undoubtedly do in the future and i can't wait to be right beside you when you do it.

i love you so much and congratulations 🫶

tagged: yourusername

comments

yourusername: i love you so much 🫶 😚

user1: 8 YEARS????? ↳ user2: OH I JUST KNOW THE BOTH OF THEM ARE GIGGLING AT THE COMMENTS RN

georgerussell63: YOU'VE BEEN TOGETHER ALL THIS TIME? ↳ landonorris: ALL THE PLANNING WE DID, ONLY FOR THEM TO BE TOGETHER THE WHOLE TIME? ↳ yourusername: "planning" you locked alex and i into a closet right before a gp and we almost got in trouble??? ↳ alex_albon: remember when they planned a grid dinner but they all mysteriously had other plans so we just had an impromptu date using max's card? (we didn't steal it, one of the guys stole max's card and gave it to the restaurant) ↳ maxverstappen1: I PAID FOR THAT DINNER? WHO STOLE MY CARD? ↳ landonorris: 🙋‍♂️ ↳ yourusername: thank you both btw 🫶

redbullracing: congratulations to the happy couple ↳ williamsracing: we've been waiting for this ↳ yourusername: thank you for the blessing 🫡 ↳ yourusername: (we disclosed our relationship to our teams bc we were scared that they were gonna make us break up or something if one of us was accused of sharing team info)

user3: this means they were together since 2016 and by the time they got into f1, they were 3 years into the relationship 😭

user4: this is so impressive though??? cause i can barely keep a secret for a couple days, but 8 YEARS???

user5: "a wdc and her wag 🫶" THE HIGHWAY IS LOOKING GOOD RN

yourusername: alex albon, my favorite wag 🫡 ↳ alex_albon: Y/N L/N, my favorite wdc 🫡

[peppermint-toads]

𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗?

𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 long time no see and 80s slasher summer is here

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 light piv sex, insecure reader, 1.4k words, bad grammar and smut writing sry

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 you and eddie are camp counselors and hookup every summer, but it’s not enough for you and poor eddie baby

“Miss me, Munson?” You asked from the door, waving away the milky smoke that pillowed from his spot on his bunk.

Twelve summers at Camp Blue Lake had led you and Eddie into your early adulthood where you’d become counselors.

As the summers got hotter and you grew older, you and Eddie had started an annual summer fling of sorts, a tradition, really.

Like clockwork, you would sneak away during the evenings when the campers were in the mess hall, making the most of every moment whether it was in his bunk or yours, the art cabin, or sometimes the woods.

You popped your hip out, hoping he would like the new shorts you bought for the season.

He rolled his head towards you, looking you up and down to see what time apart had done to you. He tried to look uninterested. He was shirtless, and you couldn’t help but ogle. He’d gotten new tattoos.

“Don’t you know this kinda thing is bad luck? You know what happened to those counselors in Friday the 13th, right?”

“What? Did the Hawkins girls treat you too well this year?” Your dejected tone didn’t go unnoticed, even though you tried to conceal it with a smirk.

You thought maybe he’d found a girlfriend and didn’t need you anymore.

Truth was, Eddie dreaded seeing you more and more each summer because leaving you was getting harder and harder. And missing you was even worse.

He laughed a little as he exhaled.

“Not quite.”

His smile faded into something sad as he succumbed to your pretty face staring at him with an insecurity he wasn’t used to.

“Indianapolis boys treat you well?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t even bothered with other boys since the summer of ‘85; you were completely and totally hung up on Eddie.

“You don’t have yourself a little boyfriend, huh?”

He sat up on his palms, finally nodding you over to him. You plopped onto his tiny bunk happily, snatching his joint from his fingers.

“You don’t have to say it, it’s okay. I know you missed me.”

He scoffed.

You lie on your side, facing him and taking in all of the features you missed so much during the year. At some point, he’d worked up the courage to run his fingers softly across your cheek and through your hair.

It was slow and shy, but it was like riding a bike. You never really forgot how to love Eddie.

You watched him carefully, and he watched you back.

“It’s gonna be a hot summer,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His hand stopped and you frowned.

“D’you think Brad will wear those denim cutoffs this year?”

You sighed dreamily, “I can only hope.”

Eddie smacked your shoulder. “Hey!”

After a short fit of giggles, silence settled over the empty cabin again, and the buzzing of the cicadas became overpowering.

“If you don’t want to… you know… hook up or whatever you can just say so.” He sighed.

As if he hadn’t already stashed heaps of trojans underneath his thin mattress.

“Why wouldn’t I? We do it every summer? Unless—unless you don’t want to.”

You could feel the heat rising in your throat and heating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Eddie really had probably found some sweet girl in Hawkins and felt too bad to tell you—

“Of course I do!” He rushed out. “I just thought I would… dunno, give you an out?”

You weren’t the only one feeling insecure. You decided to do the one thing you knew best.

The thing that always calmed you down. The thing that you did to celebrate winning color wars for the fifth summer in a row. The thing you missed so much while you were apart.

His lips felt the same as you remembered, instantly calming you despite the taste of stale weed on his tongue.

Usually, the first hookups of the camp season were eager and excited, squeezed in before the campers were set to arrive. But as you sunk down onto Eddie’s dick, something felt different. There was no rush.

The smell of his hairspray mixed with the heavy, humid air of the cabin, and the way Eddie felt so deep in your stomach after months without him almost made you cry.

He was so soft with you, and his eyebrows stayed knit together as he watched your breaths become more shallow and skin more flushed.

Everything felt so familiar, and as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder you could barely contain the words nagging your tongue. I love you, Eddie. Please, please, please. I can’t spend another minute away from you I—

His soft grunting pulled you from your thoughts. You could tell he was getting close.

Psycho. You’re just his summer fling. Always have been, always will be.

You told yourself that, but you didn’t believe it.

Maybe Eddie could tell it had been a while since you’d had sex, because you were already whimpering into his shoulder like you did when you were close. But you could tell he was in the same boat.

The last time you’d had sex with anybody was a year ago in the very same spot on the last night of camp. You’d snuck away during the closing bonfire to feel each other one last time. That was the first time you’d let him fuck you without a condom.

When you collapsed onto Eddie’s chest, the setting sun was seeping through the damp and rotting wood of cabin 5, clinging to your sweaty skin.

“Campers will be here soon. We should probably set up for s’mores.” You said absentmindedly, tracing shapes onto his skin.

“Those slackers Brad and Cindy can do it. Let’s stay like this for a little longer.

Eventually you had to get up, the bustle of the rest of the counselors arriving meant soon the cabin would be occupied by campers, and you decidedly would not be reliving the incident where Tommy found your pair of Tuesday panties. He attached them to a stick and ran around the grounds screaming “Girl panties, girl panties!”

As the hours passed, more and more campers came tripping out of their cabins and onto the lawn where the girls huddled around each other trading scrunchies and talking about the boys they hoped to kiss that summer, and the boys played tag in the dark after seeing whose feet had grown the biggest.

The night sky blanketed the camp, and you relaxed into Eddie’s side, listening to the screeching and laughing of the campers.

“You remember our first kiss?” You asked him.

Eddie smiled and hummed deep in his throat.

“Mhm, right here in front of this very campfire.”

“We were what? 15?”

“Yeah, and everybody went down to the lake and we stayed back. Then you just laid one on me.”

“That is so not true!” You whined. “You so kissed me first, asshole!”

“I’m remembering it a little differently, sweetheart.”

Eddie had kissed you first. He was shaking and stumbling over his every word as he leaned in, bracing himself for you to shove him away from you. Really you were just as nervous, sweating because you thought you might’ve had marshmallow stuck in your braces.

Quiet settled over you again, and the sounds of the cicadas were back droning in your ears.

“I was thinking about moving into the city, you know. Getting my own place and all.”

“Really?” You asked, sitting up to face him.

Your face was bathed in orange light, and he swore he’d do anything for you.

He nodded.

“Dave said I could work at one of his shops in Indianapolis, like a transfer.”

“What about Wayne?”

You knew why Eddie was moving, and you wouldn’t be the reason he left his uncle.

Eddie just scoffed. “He’s got a new lady friend, Darlene. He’s plenty occupied.”

You smiled. “That could be nice, then.”

“I was also thinking about taking you on a date. Someplace without mosquitoes?”

“You going all soft on me, Munson?”

“Oh absolutely not, I’m still gonna bang your brains out after. Just thought we could go somewhere nicer than the mess hall beforehand.”

“What do you mean? Chef Agatha’s cooking is totally romantic.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie’s side, your chest and stomach warming at the idea of finally getting to be his.

[hayatheauthor]

Hello! 😊 Do you have any advice on word-building? I can imagine multiple scenarios in my head, but I can't seem to put them into words. 🥹

First off hi sorry I took forever to write this blog! I hope it helps you get your ideas onto paper <3

Worldbuilding is the backbone of any compelling story, especially in genres like fantasy, science fiction, and historical fiction. Crafting a believable, immersive world can captivate your readers and provide a solid foundation for your narrative. In this guide, I’ll walk you through the essential steps to create a vivid and engaging world for your story.

Understanding Worldbuilding

Worldbuilding involves creating a complete, fictional universe that serves as the setting for your story. This process includes developing geography, cultures, history, politics, and even the rules of nature and magic (if applicable). The goal is to make your world feel as real and intricate as the characters who inhabit it.

Starting with the Basics

Define the Genre and Tone

Consider the genre of your story. A high-fantasy world will have different requirements than a dystopian future or a historical setting. The tone—whether it's dark and gritty or light and whimsical—will also influence your worldbuilding decisions.

Establish the Setting

Start with the physical world. Sketch out maps, outline the geography, and decide on key locations where your story will unfold. Think about the climate, natural resources, and the flora and fauna that inhabit this world.

Develop a History

Create a backstory for your world. Major events, wars, discoveries, and cultural shifts shape the present-day setting. A rich history can add depth and realism, influencing characters’ beliefs and motivations.

Building Cultures and Societies

Craft Unique Cultures

Think about the various cultures in your world. What are their customs, traditions, and social norms? How do they dress, what languages do they speak, and what religions do they follow? Diverse and well-thought-out cultures can add layers to your narrative.

Political Systems and Power Structures

Define the political landscape. Who holds power, and how is it distributed? Are there monarchies, democracies, or tribal councils? Consider the relationships between different nations or groups and the potential for conflict.

Economics and Resources

Understand the economy of your world. What resources are abundant or scarce? How do people trade, and what currencies do they use? The distribution of resources can drive plot points and character motivations.

Crafting Magic and Technology

Magic Systems

If your world includes magic, establish clear rules and limitations. What are the sources of magic? Who can use it, and how? Consistent magic systems prevent plot holes and maintain suspension of disbelief.

Technology Levels

Consider the technological advancements in your world. Are they using medieval weapons, steampunk machinery, or advanced futuristic gadgets? The level of technology can influence daily life, warfare, and exploration.

Time and Place

Historical Context

Establish the timeline of your world. Is it set in the past, present, or future? Consider historical events that have shaped the current state of the world. How have these events influenced societal development and cultural evolution?

Daily Life and Schedules

Describe the daily routines of your characters. What does a typical day look like for different social classes or cultures? Consider work hours, leisure activities, and societal expectations. The pace of life can vary greatly depending on technological advancements and cultural norms.

Timekeeping and Calendars

Develop a system of timekeeping and calendars. Are there specific seasons, festivals, or holidays that are significant? How do people measure time—by the sun, moon, or a mechanical clock? Unique timekeeping methods can add depth and authenticity to your world.

Clothing and Fashion

Cultural Significance

Explore how clothing reflects cultural identity, status, and occupation. Different regions and social groups might have distinct styles, fabrics, and accessories. What materials are commonly used, and how are garments crafted?

Fashion Trends

Consider the evolution of fashion in your world. What are the current trends, and how do they vary across different societies? Fashion can be influenced by historical events, climate, and interactions with other cultures.

Practicality and Symbolism

Think about the practicality of clothing in your world’s environment. How does the climate affect what people wear? Additionally, consider any symbolic meanings attached to certain garments or accessories. For instance, specific colors or patterns might denote rank or allegiance.

Religion and Beliefs

Pantheon and Deities

Create a pantheon of gods or a single deity, depending on your world’s religious structure. What are their characteristics, domains, and myths? How do they interact with mortals, if at all?

Rituals and Practices

Detail the religious rituals and daily practices of your world’s inhabitants. Consider ceremonies, festivals, and rites of passage. How do these practices influence daily life and societal norms?

Religious Institutions

Define the structure and influence of religious institutions. Are there temples, churches, or shrines? What roles do priests, shamans, or other religious figures play in society? The power dynamics between religious and secular authorities can add layers to your worldbuilding.

Languages and Communication

Linguistic Diversity

Develop the languages spoken in your world. Are there multiple languages or dialects? Consider the history of these languages and how they evolved. Language can be a powerful tool to convey cultural diversity and conflict.

Writing Systems

Design writing systems and scripts used for communication. Are there ancient texts or runes with special significance? How do literacy rates vary among different social classes and regions?

Non-Verbal Communication

Explore other forms of communication, such as body language, sign language, or symbolic gestures. How do people convey messages in situations where spoken language is impractical? These non-verbal methods can add depth and realism to your interactions.

Integrating Worldbuilding into Your Story

Show, Don’t Tell

Instead of dumping information on your readers, reveal your world organically through the narrative. Use dialogue, actions, and descriptions to weave worldbuilding details seamlessly into the story.

Character Perspectives

Different characters will experience and interpret your world in unique ways. Use their perspectives to highlight various aspects of your world, making it richer and more complex.

Consistency and Continuity

Maintain consistency in your world’s rules and details. Keep track of your worldbuilding elements to avoid contradictions and ensure a cohesive narrative.

Worldbuilding Tools and Resources

Maps and Diagrams

Create visual aids like maps, family trees, and diagrams to help you keep track of your world’s layout and relationships. Tools like Inkarnate or Wonderdraft can be helpful for map-making.

Worldbuilding Bibles

Maintain a worldbuilding bible—a document where you compile all your world’s details. This can include notes on geography, history, cultures, and more. It’s a valuable reference as you write and develop your story.

Inspiration from Real World and Fiction

Draw inspiration from real-world cultures, histories, and landscapes. Similarly, reading widely in your genre can provide insights into effective worldbuilding techniques.

Final Thoughts

Worldbuilding is a rewarding yet challenging aspect of storytelling. It requires imagination, attention to detail, and a deep understanding of your narrative’s needs. By following this comprehensive guide, you can create a vibrant, believable world that will captivate your readers and enhance your storytelling.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[wardenparker]

First Christmas

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of sex toys/gagging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cuddling, fluff, picturesque family stuff everywhere. Summary: A whirlwind relationship has led you to marrying Marcus before a lot of traditional landmarks in the dating realm. Now it's time to meet the Pikes, and you'll be doing it on their absolute favorite holiday. Notes: Please enjoy some seasonal fluff! While Marcus and the Pikes are obviously depicted as celebrating Christmas (duh, that's the plot) there aren't any references to the family being Christian, or to reader's religious identity. This is just some good old fashioned all-American Marcus fluff for the holiday 🧡🎄❄

“I talked to my Mom this morning.” Marcus shucks his jacket, buoyed by his news, although he’s had every reason to grin when he’s coming home to you every night. “And I managed to book the last two tickets. Had to get first class, but I used miles, so it wasn’t that bad.” He leans in and drops a kiss on your lips before he turns to hang his coat on the rack. “Figure we fly out a couple of days before Christmas and we can fly home the day after. We only end up needing to take a day or two maximum out of work that way. What do you think?”

“What do I think about three days with your entire extended family when it will be the very first time I’m meeting them all?” Marrying Marcus had been a whirlwind, and while you’re immensely happy together and have no regrets for the situation— it is a little intimidating. Marcus is incredibly close to his family and you are the exact opposite. “Honestly, babe? I’m intimidated. But I’m all in. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure they like me.”

“It’ll be great. They will love you.” Of course there had been a million and one questions when Marcus had called with the news that he was married. That he couldn’t wait to plan a wedding, and that you and he had just decided to go to the court house. “Get the embarrassing stories and baby pics out of the way before the rest of the family descends on the house.”

“Cramming into that twin bed in your Mom’s house is going to be fun,” you tease, a slight snort following your grin as you start taking leftovers out of the fridge to warm up for dinner. Last night’s Chinese take out order was more than a little over the top.

“Just means we get to snuggle really close.” He hums, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle as he presses close. The honeymoon phase hasn’t even begun to fade, and he hopes it never does. “But I think she did trade it for a queen.”

“We’ll still cuddle.” That’s a promise, and you lean back against his chest with a comforted hum that’s so blissful you just let your eyes fall shut and enjoy it. “Though it might be good if she did trade up. A new bed will squeak a hell of a lot less than an old one.”

His cock twitches, but he’s pretty sure that was the entire point of your comment. You love to see how easily you turn him on. “But then we still have to keep you quiet, baby.” He ducks his head and nips at your neck. “Can’t be screaming my name for the entire house to hear.”

Turning your head, you bat your eyelashes at him innocently and make your eyes extra wide. “Should we pack my gag, then?”

“Fuck.” He hisses quietly, twitching against your ass again. “You want to be gagged and fucked hard in my childhood bedroom?” He rasps out.

“Only if there’s really embarrassing posters on the walls.” The evil little teasing giggle that bubbles out of you comes with a full-on grind of your ass against his rapidly hardening cock. It’s not hard to rile each other up, but it is so much fun.

“Want me to show you how hard I would fuck you?” His hands slide under your shirt and cup your tits through the bra you loath and he loves to take off of you.

“Hmmm.” Even pretending to think about it makes you grin harder and you turn around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck. “The egg rolls take five minutes to warm up in the oven. Think we can get off that fast?”

“You doubt my abilities?” He pouts at you playfully, even as he moves to start unbuttoning your pants. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

“Maybe I just know giving you a challenge always gets results.” Your hands move to his belt as he starts to pull your own pants open.

“Brat.” His grin is infectious as he pushes your pants and panties down over your hips.

“Yeah, and you love it.” You shove the tray in the oven and practically smack the timer in your haste to set it, ready to hop up on the kitchen counter in the idyllic little house you share with your husband and let him fuck the life out of you.

His chuckle is warm and his hands don’t pause as he slides his hand between your thighs to touch you as his other works his belt buckle. “I do love it.” He admits easily.

Whatever clever comeback you have dies on your lips, too focused on your husband’s large hand and quick fingers at the apex of your thighs to do anything but quickly kick off your pants and panties so you can slide back onto the kitchen counter with your legs open.

“Fuck, I love the way you are so eager.” Marcus is always just as eager, but he doesn’t focus on his wants. Having you in front of him demands that you be pleasured and that’s what he’s going to do.

“For you? Always.” It’s been this way between you since the beginning. Since the day he waltzed into your undercover operation posing as your husband who could forge any painting. The spark was immediate and mutual, and soon the lines between role and real life were blurring for both of you. Now, of course, things are less complicated. But the want is no less real.

Marcus hums, leaning in to kiss along your neck like he had quickly discovered you love. Lips and teeth working together to make you moan while his fingers slide inside you.

“Baby.” Managing to moan anything coherent while he’s touching you is a miracle, but you gasp out when he starts to crook his fingers inside the tight walls of your pussy. “Need you, baby. Need you to fill me up.”

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He promises, grinning at the way your jaw is slack when he pulls back to look at you, “just as soon as you cream all over my fingers, baby.”

A whine seems to seep out of your throat unbidden and you glance over at the kitchen timer as your hips rock against his hand. “Four minutes and thirty-two seconds,” you warn with a grin.

“So we have time to have a drink.” He chuckles as he increases the tempo of his fingers as he works them in and out of you.

“Fuck, baby.” Marcus knows exactly how to work you into a frenzy with seemingly zero effort, and he delights in putting that ability on display just as much as he loves taking you apart extra slowly to make you beg. The man is devastatingly talented and you are the happy beneficiary of all that laser focus.

“That’s what I’m gonna do.” He teases. “Fuck you. Been thinking about it all day while working on paperwork.”

Being on your best behaviour at work does mean that you haven’t had him fuck you on his desk yet, but you’ve been craving it. The kitchen counter will have to serve as a substitute for just a little longer, it seems. “Yeah?” You pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer under his expert touch. “Bet you had to stay hidden behind that desk all day so no one would see how hard I make you.”

“Soooo fucking hard.” He agrees, reaching up and squeezing your tit through your shirt and bra. “Just have to think about how I woke you up sliding inside you this morning.”

“Best way to wake up.” Your head falls back, thumping against the kitchen cabinet but you barely notice.

“And I love to see your eyes turn glassy before you even wipe the sleep away.” Marcus curls his fingers up and leans in to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me baby.”

It should be impossible for him to command it like that and yet as soon as the words are out of his mouth you are gasping in pleasure and feeling the coil at the base of your spine pull tight right before the stars explode behind your eyes. Marcus groans as he watches your eyes flutter closed, your head tilting back against the cabinet and your sweet little pussy just soaking his fingers with the slickest, hottest cum he’s ever had the pleasure of feeling. “That’s it, baby, shake for me.”

“So fucking good.” Drawing in that first deep breath after cumming is always like the first breath of fresh air in the morning. As soon as the heaviness lifts from your limbs you’re surging forward to kiss him, wrapping one hand around his cock to draw him in closer and beg silently for him to fuck you.

It’s Marcus’s turn to groan and his hips rock forward, chasing your grip as you pump his cock. “Fuck baby, need you so bad.” He moans into your mouth and shuffles closer, his fingers digging into your hips to drag you closer to the edge of the counter.

No one could ever doubt the passion in your marriage, that is for damn sure, and you lean back on the counter so Marcus can line himself up at your entrance – moaning softly when he starts to push inside. "Fuck I love you so much."

“I love you too.” An undercover op that had meant to be a means to getting Teresa Lisbon – now Jane – off his mind, had ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. You are the best thing that ever happened. “So fucking much.” He pushes until he’s buried to the hilt and immediately pulling back to rock into you again.

When the two of you are worked up like this it never takes long. For a couple who routinely fuck an average of twice a day, anyone would think that it would be taking longer by now. It's not like you're pent up after a week of not seeing each other or anything. In fact, you see each other constantly —  always doing your best to even line up your lunch breaks whenever you possibly can. No, it's just passion. Plain and simple. Top of FormHe has zero problem slapping his thighs against the counter as he works into you. Panting out your name breathlessly as you clench down on him. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, baby.” With one arm twined around his shoulders and the other holding blindly to the counter, your legs have wrapped around Marcus’s trim waist to encourage every thrust. “Feels so fucking amazing.”

“You—your pussy.” He grunts out, biting his lip and then rocking his hips forward with a particularly harsh thrust.

“It’s all yours.” And with as fiercely as his hips slam into yours, it’s a wonder that your pussy doesn’t ache more than she does. But the only aching you ever seem to feel is from wanting him as close as possible. Like right now.

Every push of his hips is complete bliss, groaning as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Even mumbled against his lips it’s so true that it makes your heart swell, and you tilt your hips so he can thrust a little deeper each time. He won’t last much longer and the timer must be almost up anyway. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up.”

“Rub your clit.” He orders. “Cum for me again. Want you to cum again.”

There is nothing you want more in the world right now than to obey, and in barely a Moment more the two of you are panting and moaning into each other’s kiss, careening toward the edge of pleasure. It’s like magic, the way your fingers immediately make your core seize up around him. That little bit of pressure ripping you over the edge and making you cry out his name.

He tumbles over the edge second later, your shaking legs wrapped tight around his waist and keep him deep inside you while he paints your walls with hot cum. It's the perfect way to unwind after a long day at the office, and you groan without restraint. The kisses you press all over his lips and jaw and neck are instantly giddy, the adrenaline rush of cumming taking over the second the crashing orgasm subsides. Marcus groans, tucking his head into your neck the second he can and chuckling as the timer for the oven starts to buzz. “Perfect timing.”

******

“This is it.” The Pike house is on the corner of two main streets in his Nebraska hometown, where the old Victorian rises up from the sidewalk like a proud pillar of the old community and you can perfectly see Marcus growing up here as a little boy. His wholesome, corn-fed, all-American childhood is perfectly framed here. “Right here.” The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, matching the grin that is on his face as he looks up at the house. “Home sweet home. Mom should be here, waiting to pounce on us.”

“You’re excited.” It’s sweet, and you know he’s missed his family something terrible. “Let’s go inside, baby. Time to introduce your wife to your mother.” His second wife, technically, but that’s neither here nor there. His divorce was years and years ago now, even though she is very much still part of the family.

“She’s going to love you.” The fact that he hasn’t had you two on the phone together is just a matter of scheduling but it will quickly be corrected. “Let’s go.” The engine is cut and he opens the driver door to the rental car that was crazy expensive but worth the autonomy of being able to take you around the town.

Like any son, Marcus doesn’t bother to knock at the door but pushes inside, calling out to his mother as soon as it is half open. The first thing that catches your eye is the line of photos down the staircase to your right, and you shift to look at them all right away. Marcus’s two siblings’ wedding photos. A collage frame of each family featuring their children at different ages. Marcus’s graduation photo from the Academy. And his parents’ wedding photo that is now some forty years old.

“Marc?” The voice rings out from the kitchen and there’s the general clanging of pots and pans as she hustles out the doorway, wiping her hands in the dishrag. “Oh Marc, you made it!”

Julia Pike is a tall and fairly slender woman with grays streaked heavily through her dirty blonde hair and laugh lines that speak to a lifetime of joy with her family. But more than all of those things, she is a hugger. Her arms envelope both you and Marcus as soon as you’re within reach and she hums so happily that anyone could be easily forgiven for confusing her with the family cat. “How was your flight, sweetie? The food was probably terrible, right? Airline food always is. Come in, come in! Leave your things here and I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Hey Mom,” his arms are just as tight around his mother as they are when he hugs you. “We didn’t even risk the airport food, so we are starving.” He pulls back and gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please tell me you are making my favorite?”

“Do you think I would just skip out on your first meal home in more than a year and not make you chowder?” She tuts as if she’s insulted and turned to you conspiratorially. “Of all the things in the world, it’s always been corn and potato chowder. Who knows where he picked that up from but the first time I put bacon in it he started begging for it constantly.”

“Because bacon is probably the only thing that beats pancakes.” Marcus leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek. “And Mom makes the best corn and potato chowder you will ever have.” He promises you, letting go of her so he can wrap his arm around your waist. “Why don’t you two go into the kitchen and I’ll bring in the bags?”

“Thanks, honey.” It’s just a squeeze of his hand in yours before he slips back out the door, but you already feel more at ease. His mother is so incredibly sweet.

“Don’t worry a bit, I won’t bite.” Julia promises, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and giggling quietly as she guides you to the kitchen. “I’ll quickly fill you in on his most embarrassing stories.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to meet or talk before.” That’s really the first thing you want to say, knowing how much Marcus loves his family. “It’s all happened very fast, and we’re still wrapping up this case that our departments are working on together.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiles indulgently. If she had been a lesser woman, she would have been upset or insulted by the quick wedding and no communication, but she was secure in her youngest child’s affection. “You’re in the honeymoon phase and who wants to talk to your mother-in-law when you can be cuddling your new spouse?”

"Unfortunately, work doesn't give us a lot of downtime. Even getting a few days off for Christmas was something of a coup d’état." Following her into the kitchen, you look around the well-appointed space and note buttery looking rolls sitting on a baking tray nearby and the whole place smells like absolute heaven. "I really can't thank you enough for having us here a few days early. He's been so excited to come home and see everyone again."

“I have so looked forward to meeting you.” She waves away your thanks. “The way Marcus has talked about you when we chat, I just knew that we would be good friends.”

"He is...completely remarkable." The warmth that rushes to your cheeks at that admission is immediate, but it's honest. You won't shrug it away or apologize for it. "I know our meeting was pretty unconventional, but it was like we knew each other instantly. He's really...he's my best friend, on top of everything else. So I've really been looking forward to meeting all of you. To see how he got to be the amazing man I married." It sounds cheesy, like you're sucking up or something, but it's all so true. And since you are every bit as sentimental as your husband, you don't mind saying it out loud.

“Marcus has always led with his heart.” Julia acknowledges and turns back towards the stove to start dishing up large bowls of the chowder. “It has sometimes led him to heartbreak,” she tells you, turning around with the first bowl. “But somehow I think he’s got it right.”

"I love him so much." And you won't hesitate to shout it from the rooftops, either, which has a smile spreading over his mother's face as she works. Immediately jumping in, you pick up the empty basket beside the tray of rolls and stack them inside. She's set the little kitchen table for the three of you to eat at, so that is where the basket will end up. "I already can't imagine how I ever kept my head on without him, and I can't imagine a single day of my future without him in it."

“The perfect thing about it, is that I think you mean it.” She tells you, handing you a bowl of chowder. “In fact, I would bet money on it. I have a feeling about these things.”

"You're the one he gets it from." Accepting the bowl and setting it down, you take the next from her as well and make sure everything is set out. The opening and closing of the front door says that Marcus has returned and that makes your smile brighten reflexively. "He has a reputation for it at work. His sixth sense."

“Of course he does. He’s a hard worker and he follows his feelings.” She shrugs slightly. “Sometimes it is faulty, but I blame that on the other people involved.”

"People largely follow patterns, but the human ability to be unpredictable really does throw a monkey wrench in case work sometimes," you acknowledge. Of course, it can also be what makes your job so interesting at times. When Marcus comes down the hall to the kitchen you can't help the way you beam, leaning back for a second so he can help his Mom with the last bowl and get a pitcher of something to drink from the refrigerator. "It smells amazing, Mrs. Pike." Until she's given you explicit permission, you're not presuming to call her by her first name. You've known too many friends who got on their mother-in-law's bad side off the bat for being considered too informal or disrespectful because they tried to be friendly.

“That is just the best compliment I’ve ever had.” Julia can’t help but melt slightly as she pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit down. “Now, I won’t insist that you call me ‘Mom’, but I also don’t want you to call me ‘Mrs. Pike’. That’s your name too now. So, please call me Julia?”

"Julia, then." Sitting down at the table with Marcus and his mother feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than you had worried it might be. But so far? So far, so good. "Although, since you mention it, having two Special Agent Pikes at work has been fairly entertaining. We keep accidentally getting each other's deliveries from the mailroom."

She laughs, well aware of the confusion and commotion it would cause. “You might have to start adding your first initial to your mail.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Or…do nothing and use the mail mix up as a good excuse to steal a kiss on the government’s time.”

"That's..." You glance at Marcus and you both grin unapologetically before everyone digs into their lunch. "What we've been doing so far. But once Marcus gets his promotion it won't be a worry anymore. His title will change and the mix-ups will be over."

“I still cannot believe that they have not moved you into the role you went to D.C. for.” Julia huffs, frowning fiercely. It seems like that is just wrong to her and it is. Her baby was supposed to be the head of his department by now, but something about delaying retirement on the outgoing head had pushed back Marcus taking over the role.

“Technically, they have,” you assure her, not wanting his mother to think that Marcus isn’t being fully respected at work. “He is running the task force that he was promised. The decision to move him up to head of the department came after he had already accepted the transfer, so it’s on a different timeline. But it’s all on track. The current department head just wanted to finish out the calendar year and he’ll retire at the end of the month. It’s just a matter of weeks now.”

“Well…that’s good, I suppose.” Like any mother she knows, she’s protective over her children and their lives, even when they’ve long left her nest. “And Marc tells me that you work in another department? How are you enjoying it?”

“I work in the white collar crimes division,” you nod, managing not to moan out loud at your first taste of the soup. No wonder this is Marcus’s favorite, it’s like a giant hug. “Mostly I work on fraud cases. Forgeries are my specialty. Which…is how Marcus and I met. I needed an art consultant on a case I was working on, and he’s the best of the best.”

"He is the best." She beams as only a mother can and grins. "Although, at one point, he wanted nothing more than the be a rock star with his band."

“I keep telling him he should start up again.” The grin you throw your husband is nearly victorious. You just know his mother is going to take your side. “A couple of guys in my department need a new bassist for their band and he would be perfect.”

"If he would enjoy it, I have his old bass in the attic." She supplies immediately. "There is no reason you shouldn't take it back with you. I know it's in good condition, I have to keep Kelly's oldest from sneaking it out of the house every time he comes over."

“What do you think, babe?” It’s entirely up to him, even if he never wants to join another band you still want him to have music in his life. “We can absolutely bring your bass home with us if you want to.”

"If you don't mind." His eyes slide towards his mother again, While it was his bass, it had been a last gift from his father and it was something that he could not take with him when he moved out for good. All of the kids had left the last gifts that he had given them in the house they had lived in with him. A kind of living memorial to a man who could never be replaced.

“It’s totally up to you, honey.” His mother promises. “Your brother has been hinting about his little girl being interested in Grandpa’s baseball gear when she’s old enough, so I think it’s time.”

He mulls it over, taking another spoonful of the chowder as he thinks. "I will take it home." He decides after a Moment. "It would be good to start playing again and one day—" His eyes slide warmly over to you. "Maybe it will be passed down to the next generation of Pike."

Julia raises one manicured eyebrow at that and gladly notes the way your expression turns a little dreamy at the idea. “I take it that topic has been bandied around a little at home?”

"We've talked about it." Marcus admits, setting down his spoon and picking up your hand. "We want to spend a little time together first, and figured that we would return to the conversation when I've settled into my new role." That’s what you agreed upon together, but Marcus won’t deny that if it happens sooner rather than later, he’ll be over the moon.

“I have to say.” The smile she aims at both of you is proud and bright. “It sounds like you’re enjoying being married, and that is half the battle in the beginning.”

"We are, Mom." Marcus agrees easily, squeezing your hand and looking over her with pure adoration in his warm brown eyes. "I had one hell of an example with you and Dad, and I think that we would make both of your proud."

******

Celebrating his long-overdue return to his hometown means that Marcus takes you to his favorite little family restaurant for dinner that night and by the time you’re falling into his bed, you’re both feeling relaxed and incredibly sleepy. Getting to see parts of his past is a window into his soul that you’ve never gotten before, and you curl around him in your pjs with a contended sigh.

Marcus has a habit of stroking your bare back until you fall asleep. Since you’re not sleeping nude tonight, his hand slides under your pajama shirt to touch you. “So what do you think?” He asks softly, wanting to know how you feel about his town where he spent his formative years.

“It’s the perfect little slice of Americana,” you tell him with a grin. “I can absolutely see you running around here as the happiest little kid in the world.”

“I had my teenage angst.” He admits with a chuckle, thinking back to how naive he had been about what was truly heartbreaking. “Like most kids do. Rebelled a little.”

"Grew your hair and became a little rock star?" The pictures of teenage Marcus with long curls and shredded t-shirts didn't last for a very long period of his teenage years, but they definitely seem to be among his most treasured memories.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.” He admits. “Almost got a tattoo. Although I’m lucky I didn’t have a scar when my nose ring came out.”

"I'm sooo bummed I missed that entire phase," you giggle into his side, having now seen a plethora of photos from Marcus's younger years. "I would've been all over you in high school."

“Yeah?” He hums, grinning into the darkness. “You would have been my little groupie?”

“Oh totally.” He sounds so utterly pleased that you giggle. “I would’ve been swooning at your feet.”

“I would have let you.” He admits, his fingers trailing up and down your spine. “Given you a private performance.”

Another giggle becomes a snort, and you rest your chin on Marcus’s chest to look up at him. “Your mother might not have liked me so much as a sixteen-year-old groupie, but I woulda been stuck to you like glue.”

“She was actually pretty cool with boyfriends and girlfriends.” He tells you. “She would have just made sure we were being safe.”

“Mmkay,” you hum and laugh. “So it would have been finding refuge here after my parents forbade me from seeing you anymore. Got it.”

He hums. “I could still impress the parents with my manners.” He promises. “No forbidding going on.”

“I just would have snuck out to see you.” It’s a fun little game of pretend to play, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Nothing could keep me from you, babe. We’re stuck like glue.”

“We are stuck like glue.” He smiles at you, ecstatic about that fact, that he’s gotten it right. “Me and you babe.”

******

On Sunday morning, his siblings and their families descend on the house early. All the Pike kids are morning people, apparently, and even more so when mornings include Christmas movies. The clattering downstairs is what wakes you, and you huff a groan into your husband’s side when you realize he’s silently stroking your back in your sleep. “Early.” You mumble, knowing it’s later than the time you get up for work but early for vacation wake up time.

“I know.” He’s eager to get downstairs, but he’s also eager to stay by your side. “But I know Mom will have coffee and fruit strudels downstairs.”

“Tempting.” But it’s not nearly as tempting as morning kisses, and you shift up the bed to snag some.

Marcus hums, smiling against your lips as he holds you close. “Morning.” He whispers between soft and sweet kisses. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment with you before the chaos begins.

“Morning, my love.” There are few things better than these quiet morning moments, and you savor them when you can. Work days are far too busy for cuddling so weekends are precious and holidays? Even more so.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come.” He admits quietly. “They are crazy and loud, but they are my family and I love them.” He grins. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Being held against his chest and wrapped up in bed with him is your safe place, but the morning is calling with loud voices so you place a kiss over his heart and stretch. “So exactly how many of your million cousins are coming today?”

“All of them?” He poses it as question and then laughs. “I think after the news I was bringing my new wife leaked, everyone decided to turn it into a family reunion.”

“Ahhh.” That makes you nod in understanding. “So it’s a really good thing that I packed nice clothes for this trip. Got it.” You had prepared for it, expecting to be a little bit on display, but you know how excited he is to be home. It made you want to work extra hard to make a good impression on his family.

“Don’t worry, they will absolutely love you.” He promises. His hand slides down and he pats your ass. “We need to get up and get the day started though.”

“Come on, handsome.” You haul yourself up with a groan after one more kiss. “Let’s get dressed.”

He chuckles as he watches you grumpily get up. You never like to leave a bed without a few good groans and it’s positively endearing to him.

“My body knows it’s a holiday,” you grumble good naturedly, as if you don’t groan about getting up for about three or four sentences every morning regardless. “It’s protesting.”

“Of course it’s protesting.” He shakes his head, climbing out of the bed with far more enthusiasm and starting to make the bed. “You would sleep for twenty-three hours out of the day if you could.”

“Only since adulthood.” Getting ready together is a nice, soothing little ritual and you pull your clothes out of your suitcase with precision. “When I was younger I could just go, go, go. But now?” You shrug and offer him a smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to be in bed these days? You’re there, too.”

He grins and winks at you. “You know, I think I like your thinking.” He flirts shamelessly with you, enjoying how easy it is.

“My logic is unflappable.” You boast, grinning at him and giggling, mood lifted immensely just by his smile. “But we need to get dressed, sir. You have a football game to play, if I remember my Pike family traditions correctly.”

“That’s true. It’s always best to come to the table with black eyes and bloody noses.” He chuckles and strips off his sleep shirt to pull on a sweatshirt.

“How do you expect me to function properly with the mental image of you being rugged and athletic and then the real image of you shirtless? It’s just unfair.”

He hums, smirking at the pouting tone of your voice and he bites his lip. “You’ll have a good view from the kitchen window.”

“Kitchen window?” Even though you know that’s where you’ll be most of the time — what with his mother loving to cook and his sister Kelly running a restaurant in the nearest city with two of their cousins — you still make noises. “My ass is going to be on that porch with a mug of something warm for a front row view.”

He snorts and walks back over to kiss you before he changes from comfortable boxers to more secure boxer briefs. Less chance of his brother ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the groin again this year. “Don’t worry, I’m sure all of you will be out there at some point.”

"I will be sure to spearhead that viewing party." You promise him before patting his ass with a smirk. "I will be watching very disrespectfully."

"What will I get when I score a touchdown?" He waggles his brows at you suggestively.

"Something that is not family friendly." And that is an absolute promise. "Now come on, handsome. I have a whole lot of Pikes to meet."

"Damnit." Marcus hisses quietly, reaching down to readjust himself in those boxer briefs before he slides on his sweats. "Now I want to go back to bed."

"Love youuuu," you sing-song, sashaying back across the room to your stack of clothes.

******

Downstairs is the general chaos that Marcus had expected and he's halfway down the stairs when he hears his brother Alex shouting. "SHUT UP, stop talking about them! They're coming!"

It throws you into an unexpected fit of giggles, and you have to pause mid-stair to compose yourself before hitting the ground floor just behind Marcus. "Nothing bad, I hope?" You ask, coming around the corner to where the living room, hallway, and kitchen are overflowing with your husband's extended family.

Alex, an older, slightly more rugged version of his younger brother with their mother's nose, grins at you. "Oh, just taking bets on if you were making a baby or freaking out about meeting this nut house of family members." He admits shamelessly.

"I am that dreaded thing known as a Night Owl," you admit with your hand on your heart, as if you were admitting to some dreadful sin. "It takes me a couple of extra minutes to get going in the morning. Nothing nefarious, I am sorry to report."

"Ohhhhh nooooooo, Marc – say it isn't so?" Clutching his hand to his chest, he looks at his brother in horror. Always the comically dramatic one of the bunch, he plays it up for all he's worth considering that the entire family is focused on all of you right now. He grins and winks at you just in case you aren't aware that he's not serious. "Take her back! Take her back to the wife store!"

"No returns." With a smirk and a smothered laugh, you wave your ring in the air —  earning you some whoops and hollers from the assembled women of the Pike family. "Now I'm gonna get some tea, you boys play nice."

"Damn, she's way too good looking for your ugly ass." As soon as you sail by him, Alex grabs Marcus and pulls him in for a bone crushing hug that only brothers can give. "Fuck, it's good to see you."

"We all missed you." His sister Kelly is on the other side of him immediately, smacking Alex's arm away so she can hug their baby brother.

"Miss you too." He laughs, looking over her shoulder as he hugs his favorite sibling. "You, not Alex." He clarifies and grins when his older brother shoots him a bird.

"No one misses Alex," she laughs, sticking her tongue out at the oldest of the Pike siblings with glee. In typical middle child fashion, Kelly had become loud and active and attention-grabbing in her own right. All of which might have also been a survival tactic for having two very individual brothers. "You're good, Marc? Not working too hard? Mom said they still haven't given you your damn promotion."

"It's coming." He promises with a nod of his head. "Right now, I'm just riding out my time as a flunkie so I can spend more time with my gorgeous wife instead of balancing department budgets late into the night." He tells her with a grin as his eyes slide over the kitchen, hoping for a glance of you.

"Ugh," his sister groans, fully teasing. "He's still in the honeymoon period."

"Hope it never ends." Marcus rolls his eyes when he looks back at her, but he's not lying. He hopes your marriage is just as strong as his parents’. They were in love until the day his father passed and still his mother will happily say that he is the love of her life.

"Gross." Alex chimes in, grimacing at his brother for full effect. It doesn't matter that he and Kelly are both happily married to supportive spouses that they love with all their hearts. They have to tease Marcus.

"Yep." Marcus smirks at his older brother. "She gave me cooties." He warns childishly.

"It's supposed to be the other way around, ya know." Alex ruffles Marcus's short hair and needles his younger brother with glee. "You're supposed to give her cooties. Or did you not pay attention in sex ed?"

He takes the ruffling of his hair with only a small groan and chuckles as he dodges another swipe. "Oh, I paid attention." He promises. "I'm a Boy Scout, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex rolls his eyes. "You never let us forget. Perfect youngest child with his perfect extracurriculars and now his perfect job." Though the older brother might gripe, they're all very proud of Marcus. It's just more fun to make fun.

"Don't forget, perfect wife." Marcus adds. As much shit as they give him, they were also his biggest support system when he was going through his divorce. They had kept him sane and he loves them for it.

"Do we call this 'the third time's the charm'?" Kelly asks, lightly teasing but so incredibly glad to see their little brother happy again. And happier, if this morning is any indication, than they've seen him with any partner before. "I'm gonna tell her all your most embarrassing stories while you guys are playing football. The ones that Mom doesn't know."

"I've already told her." He lies through his teeth, aware that he's not come close to telling you all his embarrassing stories, but he has to put on a brave front. Any and all fear will be utilized against him if he doesn't stand strong. Shrugging, he pretends to be unconcerned. "So go ahead."

"Gonna call your bluff, little brother," she announces before hustling off to find you in the kitchen.

"Shit." He hisses under his breath, dreading what stories she will spread. Alex chuckles and shakes his head. "You're in for it now, little brother."

The kitchen is a different sort of chaos on this Christmas Eve morning, but the sound of the kids watching A Muppet Christmas Carol in the living room is a welcome soundtrack to all the fuss. "It's their tradition," Julia is explaining to you, talking about the next generation of young cousins and their movie choice. "Their parents and some of the older siblings get in on the lawn football game, but they like to watch Christmas movies all morning until we're ready to break out the stuff to make gingerbread houses after lunch."

“Ohhhhh wifey.” Kelly trills as she floats into the kitchen, stopping by the fridge to pull out the bottles of Prosecco she had put in there when she arrived. “It is my duty as your sister-in-law – the best one – to ply you with alcohol and tell you embarrassing stories about my baby brother.” She grins as she holds up the bottle. “Now, OJ or cranberry juice?”

The laugh that bubbles out of you with Kelly's appearance is honest and light, and you finish your last sip of tea before attempting to speak. "It’s a little too early for alcohol for me, but makes yours with a little bit of both." The suggestion is full of absolute certainty and you add, "Trust me," when she tilts her head at you with curiosity. "One part OJ, one part cranberry, two parts bubbly. It's perfect. I’ll just have equal parts orange juice and cranberry juice for now. That’s also absolutely delicious."

“Alright…sounds pretty good. I’ll give it a try.” Her eyes slide over to Julia and she raises a brow. “Mom? Are you in?” She asks mischievously.

"You two have fun." Julia shakes her head, bowing out in favour of letting her middle child and the family's newest member have some one-on-one time. "I'm going to get lunch in the oven early, I think. So we can all relax a little."

“Of course.” Kelly rolls her eyes and looks at you with a grin. “You’ll love Mom’s lasagna. It’s a tradition.”

"I've heard nothing but amazing things." In fact, Marcus has been raving about his mother's cooking. "I hear it's on the menu at your restaurant, too? The famous family recipe."

Kelly nods and shrugs slightly as she snags two champagne flutes from the cabinet. “Still can’t make it as good as Mom can.” She admits shamelessly.

"That's Mom Magic," you hum, not quite admitting out loud that it's the type of magic you want to have one day.

“Also probably the secret ingredient that she’s not telling me about.” Kelly teases her Mom, knowing there’s no ingredient, but loving to rag on her.

"Patience," Julia tells her definitively as she starts to bustle around the kitchen again. "It's patience. And my kids all love instant gratification."

Kelly snorts as she pours the juices into the glasses. “Of course we do, Mom. Why do you think you have grandkids?”

"Could always use some more!" She sing-songs, glancing in your direction with a smirk before turning back to her task at hand.

“Mom, don’t scare her off by being greedy.” Kelly scolds her mother playfully. “If they want to give you more grandkids, they will do it on their schedule.” It’s important that you understand that they will tease and play but they will never be those obnoxious in-laws that demand you do things their way or give them what they want for your life. It was always what Marcus’s ex-fiancée had claimed, that they were too pushy, when they had just been asking questions about their future.

“It’s okay,” you assure both women, not scared off in the least. “We do want kids, just not quite yet. We’re enjoying the honeymoon period a little too much to want to change anything just yet.”

Even though you’re talking about her brother, Kelly grins and winks at you as she picks up her mimosa and hands you your juice. “Practice makes perfect, right?” She jokes.

It’s not even worth hiding your smirk or the mild embarrassment in your face, since she’s absolutely right. “Something like that,” you agree with burning hot cheeks.

“See? You’ll have more grandbabies in no time, Mom.” Kelly taps her glad to yours. “Welcome to the nut house.” She welcomes you. “We don’t bite…hard.”

If it was his friends instead of his family, you might tease that Marcus does bite hard, but his mother and sister don’t need to know about the tender marks on your inner thighs. “Thank you for having me,” you joke instead. “I’m very glad to join this particular nut house.”

“We are happy to have you.” Julia promises as she carefully covers the massive lasagna in multiple layers of aluminum foil. Not wanting the top to burn. Luckily, she had already put it together the day before so it’s ready to go.

******

You were warned about the football game. You really were. Marcus had tried to impress upon you how over-the-top he gets with his brother and brother-in-law and cousins. You had thought touch football on the front lawn was a sort of cute, insanely all-American tradition to have. Even in the snow it had sounded quaint. Now that they’re halfway through the game, though? You can see the people who really have fun with this tradition are the wives and girlfriends. The group of you are up on the porch with mugs of wassail either shouting encouragements or giggling to yourselves in appreciation of attractive men tackling each other (partially) for your amusement.

Even though it’s colder than hell, the men have nearly all removed their shirts. Panting and sweating as they try to their hardest to beat the shit out of each other for sport.

“I love football.” Alex’s wife chuckles when she comes up beside you and Kelly and hands you both iced gingerbread cookies.

“Pass interference!” Marcus shouts, shaking his head and huffing after his cousin shoved him out of the way. “That’s bullshit!”

“Forgot how to play dirty, Fed?” His cousin laughs it off, having discarded his Omaha Fire Department sweatshirt on the porch railing. “Fight back, Marcus!”

“Aren’t you the one who had to have a pack of peas on your nuts last year?” Marcus taunts back. “Thought you were gonna use those tiny peanuts to make a baby?”

“Twins on the way, baby!” The cousin – Ryan – cheers back, like somehow he was extra virile enough to cause twins, rather than it being entirely up to his wife’s anatomy.

“Alright, alright, focus up assholes.” Alex calls, bringing the two men back into the fold of the game. Good natured smack talk is all part of the fun, of course.

“He’s just mad he can’t throw.” Ryan shouts from the other side, grinning when Alex shoots him a bird. “Most interceptions of all the QBs.”

Shaking off the heckling with a laugh, Marcus waves at you and blows a kiss up to the porch as he jogs by to retake his position. “So you’re Marcus’s new…fiancée?”

You hear the question from elsewhere on the porch and you turn to face the speaker. “Wife.” It’s his cousin Ryan’s pregnant wife, of course, and you steel yourself with a forced smile. Marcus’s cousin Ryan had married his ex-wife years after the divorce. Honestly you can’t quite figure out how the whole family seems okay with it, but they are. “I’m his wife.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen and her hand stops rubbing her rounded stomach. “That’s— I hadn’t heard! Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” She actually seems to mean it instead of having some underlying sarcasm, and that soothes you right away. “It was recent. I guess word is still getting around.”

“I’m sure Julia wanted to make a big toast tonight.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m Vanessa. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

“Honestly?” A small laugh bubbles out of you, surprising you both. “I ought to thank you. If you hadn’t divorced him, then I could never have married him.”

Staring at you for a second, she grins back at you. “You’re welcome, then. Part of the cousin-in-law package.” She snorts. “Free of charge, of course.”

While you don’t think Marcus ever would have lied to you about what happened, it seemed a little too straight forward to you. Like maybe he was leaving something out to spare feelings, which is definitely something your sweet and generally gentle husband would do. “I hope it really was as painless as Marcus says.”

“Oh, Marcus was – is – amazing.” Vanessa insists immediately, having enough affection for Marcus that she is still willing and able to come to his defense. “We met freshman year of college, decided it was love, and didn’t have a clue what love really was.” She shakes her head. “We adore each other, just— as friends and not partners.”

“I admit, I couldn’t really understand why the whole family seemed totally fine with everything.” Deciding to be honest, you just shrug and take a sip of wassail. “But it only takes thirty seconds to realize that there’s no ill will, and that’s…it’s a big comfort.”

“I met Ryan when I was working on my masters.” Vanessa admits with a sheepish grin. “He had been in the military and deployed when I was with Marcus. I didn’t even know until we were talking about meeting the folks.”

“It would have been a very awkward surprise.” Being able to laugh together is a relief, one that you’re not going to take for granted at all. “I’m glad to see that everyone has ended up happy. That’s so rarely the way, and it’s a shame.”

“It is a shame and I hated that Marcus was having a rough go for a while.” She frowns fiercely and shakes her head. “I don’t know what that Lisbon lady was thinking but she could have done so much better breaking things off with him.”

“She doesn’t have the greatest reputation around the office.” You admit, though the whispers have gotten to you through backways, and only since you started seeing Marcus so you’re sure you only hear the bad stuff. “Either way, everyone is happy. That’s what matters.”

Vanessa nods after a moment, her frown turning into a smile. “I understand if you find it odd, or don’t like me on the principle that I’ve slept with your husband, but I hope we can be friends.”

"It doesn't make any sense to be upset with you over something that happened years before Marcus and I ever even met." Putting your hand out to her, the offer of a handshake is your formal show of a truce. No hard feelings. Not from your end. "I'm happy to be friends."

“Well, that went better than I ever hoped.” Amy admits, coming out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of Prosecco. “Top off on mimosas, anyone? The juice content is getting a little high.”

A few people around the porch take her up on the offer, but you politely shake your head and decide to stick with wassail. The game seems to be wrapping up as well, which means it will soon be time to do the traditional Pike family Christmas Eve gift exchange before dinner. At some point Marcus's mother had read about the Icelandic tradition of receiving a book to read on Christmas Eve and loved it so much that it has become tradition.

“Whoever gets ’Beautiful Secret’….” Vanessa hums, waggling her eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

"Welcome to the real tradition," Kelly jokes, looping her arm through yours as the group from the porch starts to pour back into the house in advance of the football players. "Most of the books exchanged between the adult members of the family are a little...saucy."

“Mom pretends she doesn’t know any of them.” Amy snorts, grinning knowingly. “But that woman has a stash of trashy romance novels from the seventies in the attics and somehow, those boxes are multiplying.”

"Marcus clued me in," you promise, following your two sisters-in-law inside. "I brought my best offering, I promise." The choice you made was very specific, and really has one recipient in mind. Even thinking about it just makes you nervous for what’s to come.

“Of course he did.” There’s a grin tossed your way. “Marcus was the one who was always reading Mom’s books when she wasn’t looking.”

"I'm not even mad about it." A laugh bubbles out of you that you don't bother to stifle, and you shrug. "It's purely educational for him, I swear."

“Ugh, I don’t want to know about my brother’s bedroom habits.” His sister shudders playfully before she points her finger at you. “As long as he’s taking care of you.”

“Oh, I promise.” He’s more than taking care of you. Marcus treats you like a queen. But Kelly doesn’t want to know that so you just smile and let the happy, hazy expression on your face do the talking for you.

“Ohhhhhhh.” All the women in the kitchen making a knowing noise and grin at you. “That answers that.”

“Answers what?” The oldest Pike sibling is the one to lead the charge into the kitchen and Alex makes his way over to his wife to kiss her before going for a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator.

“If your brother is taking care of his responsibilities.” The kiss is accompanied by a cheeky grin.

“I thought you couldn’t talk about the case yet?” Alex looks back at Marcus, who comes into the kitchen behind him.

Marcus frowns in confusion and props his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Huh?”

“Not that,” you laugh, reaching to give your sweaty husband a hug. “We were just talking about the book exchange and got a little off-topic.”

“Oh?” He eyes his sister and sister-in-law with playful suspicion. “Don’t believe a word they say.” He jokes.

“Sure, honey.” You snicker lightly. “But they should believe me.”

“Of course.” He scoffs, leaning in and dropping a soft kiss on your lips with a grin. “Federal agents are held up to a high standard.”

“Yes, we absolutely are.” It earns him another kiss, and those familiar butterflies in your belly that have been so active lately swell up again at just how much you love him.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Marcus tells you. “Kicking ass made me sweaty.” He grins again.

“Hurry back.” Partly because you miss having him at your side, but also because it’s almost time for the book exchange, and you’re just as excited as you after nervous for that.

Marcus winks. “Of course, sweetheart. Ten minutes, tops.”

“Then we’ll start the book exchange in ten minutes.” His mother decides. And the kids can go first, just in case he takes a few extra minutes.”

“And so they are reading.” Vanessa snorts. “Less likely to pay attention to our books.”

“Probably better for everyone,” you agree, offering a smile and a knowing laugh.

******

Marcus is true to his word, bouncing down the stairs with wet hair and fresh clothes nine minutes later. The spicy, musky cologne he’s wearing is one that you picked for him and he loves it. “I’m back. So stop talking about me.”

“It’s only good things, babe.” When he plops down beside you in the living room window seat, he has a wrapped gift in his hand that looks like the size of a standard novel and it makes the thick volume in your lap feel even heavier. No turning back now…you remind yourself silently.

Mistaking your slightly tighter grip on the book as nerves, Marcus reaches over and takes your hand. “They love you, babe.” He whispers confidently. “My brother was already telling me he likes you more than he likes me.” It was a joke, but it makes him happy that you are so easily accepted into the fold.

“Alex seems easily swayed,” you tease, leaning into Marcus’s side. “All I had to do was promise to listen to all of his favorite embarrassing stories about you.”

“Thanks, creep.” Marcus scowls at Alex, pretending to be mad while his brother hams it up. “Anytime man!”

“Alright, alright.” Julia comes back into the living room with her own parcel in her hands. “Kiddos first. Everybody circle up!” The grandkids and cousins scramble to comply, all sitting around together knee to knee after strategically choosing who to sit next to like their lives depend on it. When Grandma Julia gives the word, everyone passes the book in their hands to the person to their left.

“Now. Exchange the book with the person across from you.” Julia grins as the shuffle starts.The kids eagerly comply, giggling gleefully, and then again when Julia tells them to pass their books two people to the right this time. Around and around, the books pass, each kid squealing when the brightly colored package they want gets closer. “Alright just two more moves.” She warns. The books get passed across the circle diagonally and then once more three people to the left before Julia says to go ahead and open their gifts, and then she turns to the adults with a grin. “Ours is less complicated,” she promises. She likes to get the kids riled up but the adults are always already so tired that she just turns on a Christmas song and announces that the game is ‘musical books’. “Just pass it to the right until I tell you to stop or the song ends.” White Christmas begins to play and you anxiously hand your wrapped book over to Marcus as they begin to go around the circle.

Marcus grins as the groaning from the adults starts. The jokes and the laughter as they try to shove the books into the person next them as fast as they can. “It’s fun!” He promises you.

It is fun. Or it would be, if you weren’t praying that his mother remembered her end of the deal that you made last night after Marcus had shooed you both out of the kitchen to wash up after dinner. You had admitted that your book gift was specifically for your husband and she had assured you that she would make sure it ended up in his hands. You just hope she sticks to that.

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Julia is watching the book like a hawk. Making sure that it’s close. “Aaaand…stop!” She orders.

Your heart leaps when the large book ends up in Marcus’s hands, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief. “Everybody open up!” Kelly laughs excitedly, but you can’t. Frozen in your seat beside your husband, you watch as he peels the carefully folded and taped wrapping paper to expose the bright yellow cover of the book you selected for him. At this point you’re just holding your breath, not realizing the entire room is watching you.

Marcus reads the book’s title and frowns for a moment. This was your gift. “I— babe?” He sputters, looking up at you with the most hopeful expression on his face.

“Open it,” you murmur softly, already starting to tear up at the light in his eyes.

“But you said—” he doesn’t want to admit how he had wished you had said you were ready when you kept saying it wasn’t the right time, but he wasn’t going to push you. “Okay.” Opening the book, he finally looks away from you.

The dated sonogram is staring him in the face when he pulls open the cover of We’re Pregnant! The First Time Dad’s Pregnancy Handbook accompanied by a handwritten note in the deep blue ink of your favourite pen.

“Meeting you was a surprise, falling in love with you was as easy as breathing. Marrying you came like wildfire, and now being parents is our next great adventure. The tiniest Agent Pike is expected in July.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus chokes out, barely able to breathe as he stares at the tiny little nugget on the picture. “Babe…we’re gonna be parents.” It hits him and the book is dropped into his lap as he surges forward to kiss you.

The entire crowd of Marcus’s family around you have exploded into a ruckus of gasps and shouts and cheering, but your world has narrowed down only to him. You’ve been sitting on this secret for two while weeks and barely managed to contain your own excitement. Sure, you had said you wanted to wait. To enjoy being married first. But that baby was having none of it. It bypassed your birth control like a champ, and from the moment your doctor told you it wasn’t stress or a seasonal flu running you down, you’ve been ecstatic.

“Baby, baby.” Marcus can’t help but giggle and grin against your lips as he kisses you over and over again. “I love you. So much. I can’t—”

“Breathe, baby.” And yet you can’t help giggling, breathless right along with him. “Can’t have you hyperventilating on me. We’re gonna have to get through a whole lot in the next seven months.”

“I— I thought you wanted to wait.” He shakes his head, trying to understand when this happened, how. Even if he logistically knows how.

“I thought I wanted to wait, too.” You shrug, though, laughing through giddy tears. “But I’m so excited, honey. I can’t believe I actually managed to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus pulls you close, everyone around him fading to the background as he focuses on you. “I can’t believe you did either.” He admits, unable to stop beaming at you. “This is— you can’t ever top this Christmas present.” He decides with a laugh.

“Nope. Never.” Wrapped up in him is exactly where you want to be, but first you wipe the tears from under his eyes and press kisses to his cheeks. “But I have no problem with our first Christmas being our best.”

“I love you so much.” Marcus can’t even stop himself from caressing your stomach, in awe of the knowledge there’s your baby inside.

“I love you, too.” You’ve already lost track of how many times you’ve had your hand on your unchanged stomach since you found out about the baby, and you know that that’s only going to increase now that you can do it together. “And I love this little peanut so damn much.”

“You’re gonna be a Mom.” He chuckles. “And I’m gonna be a Dad.” He’s always wanted to be the father that his own was. Continuing the legacy of Pike dads.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Murmured against his lips, you kiss him one more time before his whole family descends on you with shrieked glee and hugs and a deluge of congratulations. Your first Christmas with the Pikes will probably never be topped, but that’s okay. It’s the perfect next step in your perfectly imperfect life.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

[ukiyowi]

How Will You Be Remembered?

Note: I'm in the middle of end sem season which is why I've been so offline and like bad w posting, I hope you like this <33

Read from 1 -> 3

Find more at Masterlist

🌷 Pile 1

Hello Pile 1! I will start this off with don't take it to heart, this is not who you are, just how people may remember you or perceive you after you are gone. You may be remembered as someone who was not afraid of showing your vulnerabilities, some people may see you as weak because of this and remember you as someone who did not take enough risks or played it safe too often to the point of your own detriment. They could think you were someone who lacked confidence and had low self-esteem even though you may have "had it all" so people may remember you as someone who had a lot of potential to do great things.

People would also feel like you were the kind of person who had a lot of problems with self-victimisation or self-sabotage where even if you had resources you felt too scared or restricted, almost powerless because of your own mind. They could have thought that you faked a lot of your problems or blew them out of proportion to seem like you have it really bad, even if this is not the case in reality, (remember what I said earlier). You could also be remembered as someone who had issues with romance or in your domestic life, possibly with your partner where you may have been a little possessive or controlling, some sort of jealousy that gets in the way of you being able to completely devote yourself without even a sliver of doubt towards your partner, yeah people could remember you as someone quite ungrounded in that regard. They may also remember you as someone who had a lot of internal familial problems and disharmony possibly with your kids as well.

However! Not everything’s negative, people would also remember you as someone who celebrated their own achievements and had a lot of inner peace and harmony surrounding them. People may recall you to be a team worker and someone who is very ambitious and sincere when it comes to their work. Also someone extremely generous and willing to share their wealth not only materially but also your knowledge, wisdom, resources, time, etc. You would be remembered for being able to go through cycles of constant change and come out better and brighter on the other side, someone who is very good with leaving the past in the past and not looking back once you move forward. To top it all of you could also be remembered as someone who tries to keep the peace and mediate even if they don't want to, almost as if your hand was being forced every time because you had to carry the responsibility of keeping things civil.

If you like this and want morez buy a reading or tip, if you want at [Paid Readings] and ko-fi.com/taagen respectively.

🌷 Pile 2

Hello pile 2! You will be remembered as someone who is extremely intuitive. Maybe you are spiritual yourself and get bad vibes from people that are often correct (or good vibes), maybe you think or feel something is going to take place and let others know, and are dismissed initially before it turns out you were once again correct. So you would definitely be remembered as that, also someone who is very true to their roots and authentic, you can stay close to your culture and traditions and may even carry out conventions at the most with a twist of your own! People would also remember you as an individual who is very abundant, especially financially. Someone who has their business in different domains and tries to capitalise off of a number of ventures, also someone who starts their own ventures! Yeah, you may leave behind a huge sum of money or capital too, that may be inherited by the people around you so that would instantly have you be remembered as someone who is generous and good with their money, people would think you were the kind who never had any monetary issues that you had to face growing up or during your young adult ages even if it may not be true to reality.

You'd also be remembered as someone who is very bright, shines in whatever they do, and someone who may be the mood maker. Like the glue in friendships or workplaces, you would be remembered as someone who connects people with each other, like if you have a friend, and you introduce them to someone else, then those two people become friends even if you drift apart from them, you know what I mean? A little specific however, something that is coming through strongly. You may be remembered as a mentor figure too, like wise and knowledgeable, someone very open to helping others even if it does not benefit you in any way.

Now, some people may also remember you as indecisive, or someone who lacked commitment and that you were shrouded in self-doubt. They could also think that you may have knowingly or unknowingly indulged in gossip that could have been malicious in nature and that you may end up victimising yourself even if you have wronged someone else, you may be recalled as a figure in people's lives where you wronged them, but they had to bear the weight of all the consequences. Some could also think you were apathetic to a large extent and dispassionate about things when alive, that you did not use the resources and talents you may have had productively because of repeating negative cycles of laziness and procrastination which could lead you to not complete projects or meet deadlines.

If you like this and want morez buy a reading or tip, if you want at [Paid Readings] and ko-fi.com/taagen respectively.

🌷 Pile 3

Pile 3 you've got some goo d cards! You may have a lot of people around you and a lot of good friendships/family members and connections in your life who appreciate you because wow! People would remember you as a family person, someone who was very close to their relatives and had the kind of family that one would dream of having. Your children may carry some sort of your legacy as well where they may become very well known, and you would be remembered through them. People would also think that during the course of your life you were someone who got very lucky with marriage or finding your partner, so a lot of how you are remembered also come from your family like your relations with them, maybe your partner as well.

You could also be remembered as someone who is very active when it comes to social justice. Someone who always stands up for what they believe in even if you are in the absolute minority, but this could also come with people thinking you have a way of being forceful and pushy when it comes to wanting what you want, especially when it comes to arguments or conflicts. You may also be remembered as someone who used to challenge convention and play by your own rules.

There is so much familial stuff here, how you'd be remembered for being nurturing and playing a motherly role (regardless of gender) for the people around you as well. Also, remembered as being very confident in your own convictions and being extremely optimistic, like you could have helped people around you look at the brighter side as well.

Okay so this is a little aside, but it was a strong intuitive message that people could also remember you as someone who is accepting of new challenges no matter what, even if it is something that you may not have resources to completely pass obstacles. Also, someone who has a lot of turbulence in their life and ups and downs that may have pushed you to the edge, but this could be taken as inspirational for people, like seeing you go through so much and still make a good life for yourself could make people believe they can do the same, so you could also be remembered in a light of you being an inspiration.

Now moving on, you could lastly be remembered as someone who was not able to fulfil your true passions in your life and someone who could have passed without getting to nurture your inner child enough because of how busy you were nurturing the people around you.

If you like this and want morez buy a reading or tip, if you want at [Paid Readings] and ko-fi.com/taagen respectively.

Do not plagiarise copy or reword, all rights reserved to Ukiyowi©®

[byunpum]

Hey, I hope you are doing alright. I would like to make a request between Aonung x human reader where the reader has been unknowingly accepting all the courting ritual gifts and gestures, so that when Aonung finally asks if they accept to be their mate, it surprises the reader and makes Aonung think that they don't reciprocate, but the reader does and shows him that 😉. Thank you!

Pairing: Aonung x human reader

Tags: fluff, crushes, mating seasons.

Warning: None <3

Request are open, feel free to ask.

AVATAR MASTERLIST

You had arrived with the sully asking for shelter, it was no surprise that at first the looks of disapproval, disgust and discrimination towards you were noticeable. You were a person from the sky, and if the sully were already a problem, you were chaos. Their parents are upset and were refusing to help them. Jake sully tried to explain the situation. "This is my adopted daughter, her mother was a great friend of mine… before she died she asked me to take care of her. See the girl over there points to kiri she is her sister, but from the avatar body of the same mother" Jake tried to explain everything, The couple didn't understand much. But they could see the sincerity in the family's eyes, and let them stay. Aonung was staring at you, while you stood next to your sister holding her hand. You give her a sidelong glance and hold on tighter. You didn't know why he was staring at you so much, you felt like he was studying you.

You went to all the swimming lessons, you weren't the best and it took you longer to adapt, but you would never give up. You were obedient and barely spoke. Any doubts he had about you went away, when he was fighting with your brothers and you tried to stop them and without realizing it he punched you in the face. Making you scream and fall to the ground. The results of this incident led to reprimands and punishments from both families, he didn't mean to hurt you, he didn't do it on purpose. So when he could, he approached your marui and apologized to you. You smiled at him, with a noticeable bruise on your face. He had hurt you, but you still forgive him and understand that it was an accident. Aonung must admit, he also judged you at first. You were an alien, short and quiet. But what bothered him the most was how quiet and understanding you were, even though everyone treated you badly. You were rejected from the groups, they would say barbarities as you walked by or even to your face, and you just smiled and went on your way. The boy became very attached to you, he couldn't help it.

After the altercation they had with the sky people, the sully stayed in the village. It was definite, this news pleased aonung. It was true that he was friends with the sully, his best friend was neteyam, your brother. But knowing that you would stay made his heart fly. But at no time did he say or do anything about his feelings for you. And so the years went by… They had already done all the rituals to be able to be true navi, they were ready. And they were also ready to get a mate. It was tradition for the metkayina, that as soon as they passed the challenges they would get a partner. And he already had in mind who he wanted to be his partner.

You had grown up as a beautiful woman, you might be human, you might look different from them… but you were beautiful. Besides, you were a strong woman, with the attitudes of a leader and generous and kind. You had earned an important place in the clan, even their mother, Ronal had accepted you, you were in responsible for the area of the children and pregnant women of the clan, you helped them and took care of the babies. The trust they had in you was impressive. He was well aware that many metkayina males were interested in you, were ready to court you. And he was going to do something fast.

He started by asking your brothers. He didn't want to do anything outside of your family's approval. Of course, your brothers agreed… the hardest one to convince was neteyam but he managed to convince him. So he set his plan of conquest in motion…

He started by making you small accessories, some for your hair and others for you to wear on your hands or ankle. "Y/N, I want to give you this accessory…I made it myself" aonung gives you the accessory, it was very beautiful, it had pearls and shells. "I made it myself with my…hands" you laugh at his comment. You can see how nervous he is getting. "Help me put it on" you speak. Aonung comes over and helps you put on the necklace. "I love pearls…they look beautiful" you say as you look up and smile at him. "I know…they are your favorite" he takes your hand and they give it a squeeze.

He keeps making different gifts and you accept them without any problem. He feels confident, because he knows that you had been offered courtship gifts and you had refused them. Aonung had even prepared a new outfit for you, it was similar to his own. His chest puffed out when he saw you wearing it. You looked so beautiful, it fit your curves so well… this boy was lost for you.

The second part of the courtship plan was also a success… He liked to invite you for rides on his Skimwing, have chats with you on the beach and he would invite you to eat with his family. He is surprised when his parents accept you without any problem. Ronal is very sweet on you, Tonowari adores you, he thinks you would make a great leader. And you got along very well with his sister, after all she was starting to date one of your brothers. He felt it was the perfect time to ask you if you wanted to be his partner.

It was still early in the morning, you had gone to do your homework… so aonung took the opportunity to go to your family's marui. There was jake and neytiri. The boy was nervous but dared to ask for her approval. Jake accepted immediately, he knew that the boy was a good man, and to know that one of his daughters was going to be the partner of the clan leader's son was a great honor for him. On the other hand, Neytiri hesitated a little, she was very overprotective of you. But in the end she accepted, she knew that Aonung was not a bad boy.

Aonung came out of the marui happy and confident. He was heading to your work area. When he arrived he saw you, you were carrying and taking care of some children. He was already imagining his own family with you. You noticed he was at the entrance, so you went to greet him. "Hello… what are you doing here? Did something happen?" you ask, you already had your hand playing with one of his hand pieces. He had noticed, how you were getting closer to him, how you were touching or caressing him. "I'd like to talk to you…in private" you smile at him, and hug his arm, as they leave the marui to be more private.

"I want to…ask you something" says aonung, he is very nervous and your grip on his arm wasn't helping. " mmm what do you want to ask" you hug him around the waist, your face falls just below his belly button, forcing him to look down. "I would like you and I… I love you, I think you are the best woman I have ever met, you are strong, kind and generous. Can I be your partner?" he spoke, he was nervous… his hands were sweaty. He was waiting for you to answer, he could feel you let go and walk away. He saw how your face showed no expression. Panic consumed him… oh no, he had gone ahead, or perhaps misunderstood your signals. He stepped forward and walked away as fast as he could, not letting you speak. He didn't want to hear that you didn't accept him, that would hurt him.

You were shocked, you couldn't believe he was asking you this. You had expected this for so long, you even thought that all his details and treats he had towards you were out of kindness. You knew he had many clan girls after him. But he was choosing you. When you finally came to your senses, you saw that he was not there. You looked everywhere and nothing. You had to look for him.

Aonung had already walked to the beach, he was walking from side to side. How could he be so stupid, it was obvious she didn't want to be with him. He was a navi, he was sure you didn't even find him attractive. He couldn't stop thinking about everything he did, and that it was all for nothing. Maybe you were interested in another clan man, there were many better than him. He was so deep in thought, he didn't notice how you approached him. "aonung?" he turns around, you could see his look, he was kind of tearful and sad. "Y/N sorry really, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or tell you those things." He started talking, as you moved closer to him. "I know I'm not your type, there are many clan men who would be perfect for you… but I don't want to lose your friendship" aonung had sat down on the sand, while he was talking. You approached him and took his hand and handed him a bracelet. It had some blue shells on it, and various pearls. "I made it for you… I never dared to give it to you because I thought it wasn't enough. But now it's time, don't you think so?" you say, hoping that he will understand that you do correspond his feelings. He takes the bracelet and places it on his wrist. " It's perfect " He puts his hand on your face, to bring you closer to him. He gives you a little kiss, and pulls you away for a moment. " I see you, ma Y/N" you kiss him back, now wrapping your arms around his neck, so that you are closer. "I see you aonung" you say to him as you rub your nose against his nose.

[mothwingwritings]

Frohe Weihnachten

Boyfriend To Death Strade X F! Reader X Ren

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! By some miracle of the holiday season I have arrived and even wrote something, even if it is random and I struggled to get finished before Christmas. But I did it and now  I offer it to you humbly as a lil gift.

This month has unfortunately bad. All the bad had me looking for distractions to keep me from the gloom, and the search for distractions lead me to replaying Boyfriend To Death 1, and replaying BTD made me start Boyfriend to Death 2, and well… Here we are. It’s been one of the few things I could focus on that brought me joy this month (what that says about my mental health we will leave up to interpretation loooooool :)), so I decided to try my hand at writing something for it. It proved to be a fun challenge, and I am hoping to do some more BTD stuff in the future. :3

ANYWAY here is a Strade-centric fic (Ren is there too, though) I churned out amidst the December bs. He’s spoiling you in it which isn’t really a good thing for you. I hope I did him justice. He is a very nuanced guy and I had a lot of fun writing this. I can slowly feel god awful, horrible men  becoming my forte , and at this point I am just embracing it.

Please be mindful that BTD and BTD2 are adult games, so even though there is no explicit NSFW in this fic, it is for 18+ only just as its source material is. No one under the age of 18 should be reading this, thank you!

WARNINGS: Torture, stabbing, blood, degradation, forced stripping, pet play, mentions of rape/noncon, Strade is filming a snuff film and though you are a part of it, you are not the one being snuffed (congrats!), severing of body parts, nonconsensual filming and touching, kidnapping, imprisonment, butchered German (my highschool German teacher is crying somewhere) and probs some shoddy editing (sorry for the rush!).

Staring down at the gifts laid out before you, a thin layer of sweat began to coat your body.

It wasn’t so much that the boxes wrapped in vibrant, pretty, paper were that unnatural (it was Christmas day, after all) so much as it was shocking that you had received them at all, given the circumstances.

This was your first Christmas away from home, the first holiday season spent without the company of your friends and family, and their absence felt like a swift punch in the gut. None of the old traditions and celebrations you were accustomed to partaking in were around to bring you comfort this year, the laid back, pleasant atmosphere that typically encapsulated  Christmas was nowhere to be found. Any jolly vibe was replaced by discomfort, apprehension, and a festering disquiet that permeated the air, killing any and all fun normal for this day.

Across from the looming assortment of gifts, each wrapped in varying degrees of expertise, sat your captor Strade, and parked next to him was your fellow captive Ren. Both sets of eyes were drinking you in with great interest, the out-of-place youthful enthusiasm reflecting back at you doing little to quell your mounting anxiety. You shifted nervously in your seat, trying your best to remain calm. You had no idea what manner of sick surprise awaited you in those packages, all you knew was that you were dreading opening them, especially with these two watching. Thinking of what the wrong reaction to their presents may illicit was more stress inducing than the gifts themselves, which already made you feel like you were developing a hernia.

“Well, go ahead,” Strade was the first to speak, his lazy drawl and splayed out body contradicting heavily with the frenzied look in his eye, “What are you waiting for?”

Ren nodded beside him eagerly, “Go ahead, (name)! I opened mine earlier because I was too excited to wait,” he chuckled a little, a small, bashful blush illuminating his cheeks, “And um, there’s a few for you in there from me so… I hope you like them.”

Your eyes traveled from the men, down to the presents. You swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by their façade of innocence, violated by their unblinking stares.

“I-I’m sorry, I just um… Wasn’t really expecting… this…”

It wasn’t a lie, the last thing you could have predicted was a present, let alone multiple. You figured maybe Ren would get you something (he had the luxury of internet access, something you were yet to be trusted with), but it wasn’t even within the realm of fantasy that you may receive anything from Strade. The only thing you dared hope for was a small reprieve from the abuse he inflicted daily, but even that seemed too farfetched to hope for.

“Well, I say you deserve it,” Strade spoke, the calm cadence of his voice still clashing with the gleam in his eye, “what’s Christmas without presents, after all? So go ahead, open them.”

You hesitated for a moment before finally reaching a shaky hand towards the closet gift on the table. Your body was moving mechanically, and though your fear was palpable, you forced your demeanor to remain composed as you pulled the small box into your lap. Your fingers carefully tore through the thin paper, dreading revealing the mystery that shiny paper shielded you from.

And as the paper fell away piece by piece, you were shocked to find that the box contained… slippers.

You stared at them for a moment, dumbfounded. Of all the things in the world that could have been waiting inside that box, to receive something so innocuous and normal was beyond perplexing.

And the gifts continued this way. You unwrapped package after package of clothing, perfumes and toiletries, stuffed animals and snacks. Each new item bewildered you just as much as the last, leaving you feeling like all this was just the lead up of  a joke, one you felt like you were the punch line for.

 As if the gifts themselves weren’t mind boggling enough, the quantity and quality of them were just as shocking. Brand names and fancy, high end packaging stared back at you with nearly each ripped wrapping, a small slap in the face with each revelation.

It left a pit in your stomach. Not even your own parents would gift you some of these things, so why were you being treated this way by a homicidal maniac and his companion? To make matters even worse, most of the gift you actually liked. Definite thought was put into each present, unnerving you most of all. You didn’t want them to know your likes and dislikes, and you certainly didn’t want them to be so familiar with you that they could easily pick out things you may desire. It felt borderline offensive that they were able to peg you so well, like you had been wrenched open and all the hidden parts of yourself you had been hiding had been forced out in the open, secrets uncovered you wished to remain hidden.

Heebie jeebies aside, such normalcy left you scratching your head. You had an intense urge to inspect each and every item to make sure the clothes weren’t secretly lined with razors, or the stuffed animals weren’t just cute ways to conceal knives, but you contained yourself. No use in setting them off when things were going surprisingly well.

You kept yourself neutral as you thanked them, neither over eager or ungrateful as you graciously accepted the offerings. Ren beamed in recognition each time you mentioned him, delighted by the simplest praise. Strade remained nonchalant, leaning back as he leered at you with that unnerving smile he always so proudly donned on his face.

When the present pile had come to an end, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over you. You felt like you had made it out of a vary harrowing journey without so much as a scratch, and felt quite accomplished for doing so.

However, before you could feel the weight truly lifted from your shoulders, any sense of triumph quickly flew out the door as Strade slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His beady eyes drilled holes through you, delighting in the apprehension his subtle shift caused you. Your blood turned to ice as he gave you a lopsided grin, his words coming out drawn out and slow, as if he were speaking to a child.

“Myyy look at that,” he sneered, “so many nice things for our (Name)! She must have some very generous admirers. It’s obvious she’s the favorite, not a single one of those boxes were for you or me, Ren!”

The weight of your situation suddenly crashed down around you. Of course these gifts wouldn’t come without some horrible caveat-you were an idiot for even thinking you would get away with this scot free.

You tried to calm yourself with the fact that Strade most likely wouldn’t go through all the hassle of spending all this money on someone he planned to kill shortly after. What would be the point? But that thought birthed an even worse fear, the expectation of getting something back in return. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be able to provide him a physical gift, a fact Strade was intimately aware of. That left you with one option- he was looking for reciprocation through different means.

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you clasped them in your lap, struggling with how to word the imminent question you had.

“Do you want… I mean, should I get you something in return?”

You hated how small your voice sounded, dreading the response your words may garner. A shiver rocked you as the smile on Strade’s face spread, his arms spreading out in a dramatic shrug as he shook his head with a laugh.

“No no, please! The only thing I want in return is for you to thoroughly enjoy your gifts, nothing else is needed. Your delight is a gift in and of itself.”

His words did little to help your dwindling nerves. A sudden harsh clap of his hands made your heart skip a beat, his body pivoting to face Ren with a sadistic smile.

“I almost forgot,” he exclaimed, his voice taking a dangerous edge, “we have one more very special surprise for our girl, don’t we?”

Your attention darted to Ren, hoping for a sign of assurance from him. The beatskin started to squirm a bit in his seat, pulling nervously at the hem of his oversized sweater. He looked over at you with lidded eyes, a dangerous gleam in them that you knew was a terrible precursor of the pain to come. 

Ren’s breathing had grown unsteady, the blush that had engulfed his face becoming so vibrant you could almost feel its heat from where you sat. While there was nervousness to his demeanor, he couldn’t quite mask the hints of his exhilaration from peeking through. The guileless enthusiasm was hard to face, causing you to avert your gaze, your heart sinking deeper. Ren was no saint himself, but he was all you had in this hell that masqueraded as a normal, middle class home. He was supposed to have your back (and often times did) in moments like these, but it appeared his demons won this round. The thrill radiating from him over your oncoming misery was perceptible. You were on your own with whatever lay ahead.

With a jerk of Strades head, Ren bounded off the couch to another room, the sound of subtle clanging reaching your ears as he dug around out of sight. You careened your body, hoping to maybe get a peek of whatever the hell Ren had ran so jubilantly to acquire, but you immediately stopped once you heard a chuckle rumble from Strade’s chest.

“My my~,” he purred, the sound causing an instinctive shiver, “so eager this morning (name)! I can only hope you keep that up once you see what the surprise actually is, hm?”

Before you had a chance to respond, Ren barreled back into the room, slightly out of breath and clutching some sort of metallic, chain linked contraption in is hand.

“Sorry,” he lightly huffed, handing the item in question to Strade, “I hid it really well so it took a moment to get.”

Once it was in his grasp, Strade turned to you, holding out the item so you could finally view it in all its glory.

It was a new collar-a dog training collar, to be precise. This one however had been modified, the spikes lining the interior of the collar, while typically coated with a thick, squishy plastic to as not to hurt the dog in their training stage, were missing their protection. The metal nubs that the plastic encased were also typically dull and rounded on most training collars, meant to poke and prod instead of maim and hurt. You would not be getting that manner of gentle encouragement it seemed, your body tensing as you stared at each harshly pointed spike. The needle like protrusions glistened so brilliantly in the overhead light it almost appeared as if the collar was made of diamonds.

You sat perfectly still, in a complete daze as Strade approached you and swiftly released the thick electric collar from around your neck. The cool air hit your sweat drenched flesh, giving you a chill. While it was nice to be without the weight of that vile contraption, the freedom was only momentary as he clasped your new chain links into place across your throat. Though it was much more delicate than your previous collar, for some reason it felt much heavier than its bulky electric counterpart.

You winced as he gave the leash a small pull, grinning when a sharp, shocked cry fell past your lips. The needles hadn’t broken the skin yet, but the action did make you become keenly aware of just much damage they could cause with very minimal effort. The delicate nature of your current standing was looking bleaker with each passing second, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body as you eyed Strade fiddling carelessly with your leash. He seemed pleased by the attention his minor ministrations were awarding him, humored by the pain he could bring you with a mere flick of his wrist.

“I-it looks pretty on you, (Name),” Ren stuttered, a nervous smile complimenting the red of his cheeks, “Kind of dainty, like a fancy necklace. It really suits you.”

“It is pretty, isn’t it?” Strade jeered, fingering the chains that hung heavy around your neck, “I considered one for you too Ren, I didn’t want to make you jealous, you know? But then I figured hell, if I get this for (Name) Ren’ll probably enjoy this just as much as I do, so it’s already a two for one deal.”

Giving your cheek a few mild slaps, Strade turned his gaze towards Ren, “I trust that you’ll take good care of (Name) if I’m ever out and about and you want to have some special fun with her. A little pet time for my pet would do him some good, I think.”

The flippant insinuation made bile rise in the back of your throat.

“Now,” Strade pulled tighter on the leash, prompting you to rise to your feet and stand before the men. He lifted the chain above his head, laughing as you rose to tiptoes to avoid gouging your neck, “What do we say after we receive such a nice present, hmmm~?”

“Thank you,” you choked the words through your indignation, the spikes scratching uncomfortably against your skin as you did so. After several seconds of your balancing act, Strade lowered his hand, granting you the ability to stand normally. You released the breath you were holding, thankful that for at least this moment, you escaped agony.

“So ein gutes Mädchen für mich,” he cooed condescendingly, patting your head as if you were an actual dog, “you are really making me proud! But the fun isn’t over yet, in fact, this is just the first part of your special surprise,” his eyes widened at your obvious despair, “Aren’t you lucky?”

Without further ado he stomped past you, leash gripped tightly in his hand as he led your further into the house. While there was more leeway to the leash than anticipated, you still hustled to follow after him, fearful of the barbs encircling your throat. His whistled as he walked, his demeanor so exuberant that for a moment you felt he might start skipping. Ren trailed behind you, following closely in your footsteps.

It didn’t take long for you to catch on to where you were headed. As you came to stop before the thick, iron door that separated the rest of the house from the hell-hole that was the basement, tidal wave of fear washed over you. Strade took a deep breath, relishing all that was too come, immersed in the anticipation he was undoubtedly feeling. He turned to you and smiled, and you fought to keep a grip on your sanity. Feeling feint, your eyes flicked from him, back to the imposing door. Your heart was banging so violently in your chest from the sheer amount of terror that was coursing through your veins that you worried you may pass out.

How many people had met cruel, agonizing fates down those stairs? How many gallons of blood had dripped down the walls, pooled on the floor, snaked through the drains? How many anguished screams had reverberated off those sound proof walls?

You began to panic as Strade opened the door with ease, wasting no time making his way down. You hadn’t been to the basement since Strade had kidnapped you many months ago and you had hoped it would be a place that you never found yourself in again. It relieved you when Strade had forbid you and Ren from stepping foot down there, one of the few orders he gave that you were actually happy to oblige. Strade only took people to the basement for one reason and one reason only, and the fact that he was so pleasantly dragging you down there right now did not bode well for you in the slightest.

“W-wait,” you called out nervously, grabbing at the chain leash in an attempt to stop his descent. “W-why are we going down here?”

“Because it’s where the rest of your present is,” he answered as if it were obvious, a tinge of annoyance in his voice as he shot you a pointed look, “Now come on.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle touch on your shoulder stopped you.

“It’s ok, (Name),” Ren’s voice sounded softly in your ear. You could tell he was doing his best to sound reassuring. “We are allowed down there today, Strade said we could as a special treat for Christmas. It’s OK, I promise,” he gave your shoulder a small squeeze, before planting a fleeting kiss to your cheek, “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

His words did little to assuage the overwhelming terror you were feeling, sinking its claws deep in your battered soul, holding you in a death grip. You were past the point of a panic attack, now fearing a heart attack may be what does you in. At this point you wondered if that would be a mercy over whatever awaited you down there.

Forced breathes rattled from your lungs, erratic and strained as you stared into Strade’s expectant eyes, knowing his patience was rapidly diminishing. As much as you wanted to get whatever was coming over with, your legs lost the ability to move, your body denying every command your brain was giving to take the first step.

Hesitating a moment too long elicited a brutal tug from Strade, effectively ending your indecision as you were sent tumbling down after him. You whimpered as you felt the barbs of the collar tear into your flesh. Small rivulets of blood snaked from each fresh wound, dripping down your shoulders, back, and chest to strain the collar of your shirt. As a rare act of mercy, Strade caught you, his thick arm acting as a barrier between you and the concrete you were plummeting head first towards.  For once you were thankful to be within the monster’s grasp, a sore chest and aching shoulder from where he grabbed you were far better than any injury you would have attained from the fall.

Consumed by a rush of adrenaline from the tumble, you neglected to realize your hands had latched to Strade’s arm like a lifeline. Embarrassment flooded you, quickly prompting you to release your hold on him. He laughed at the flush on your cheeks, your body jostling along with the rumble of his chest. His hand relinquished its grip on your shoulder, leaving behind angry red fingerprints, as if he had seared your flesh with a mere touch. His newly freed hand moved to tangle itself in your hair, eliciting a whimper as his nails dug into your scalp. Each place his body made contact with yours felt like it was burning.

Without warning, he roughly brought the side of your head to his lips, the stubble of his cheeks scratching your skin as he smashed his face against yours, taking in a deep breath. Excited puffs of breath tickled your ear as he spoke.

 “Hurry up now,” his voice was gruff, but the words came out in a sing-song manner, “Don’t start misbehaving now, it would be a total bummer if you had to miss out on this, (Name)~”

With a wistful sigh he released his hold, leaving your momentarily reeling as you stumbled back, trying to reclaim your baring’s. Strade didn’t give much of a chance to do so, continuing on his way with another yank of the leash, forcing you to scramble after him once more.

Your body gave an involuntary shiver as your feet touched the chilly concrete floor. Strade flipped the lights, causing you to recoil at the sudden brightness. Your eyes grew watery as they struggled to adjust, but when they finally did you wished more than ever you could have just remained in the dark.

Though you hadn’t been in the basement since the week of your capture, everything was just as you remembered it. Horrible memories flooded your mind as you took in your surroundings, your brain assaulted by flashbacks of months prior. All the same home appliances and tools still lined the back wall, typically innocent devices most people used for repair jobs and building projects that no one would take a second glance at were this a normal basement. In Strades hands however, they became tools of destruction and torment, capable of the vilest atrocities.

You heard the loud whirring of the freezer off to the side before you saw it, the outdated device still valiantly chugging away as it preserved god knows what on its rickety inner shelves. The noise it spewed was so grating you wondered why he didn’t just replace the damn thing, or at least try and fix it. Near it stood the work table that housed his buzzsaw, looming ominously as it waited patiently for its next use (whether that be for flesh or for wood, who was to say?).

Witnessing these normally mundane items again made your chest hurt, a deep, indescribable level of horror spreading through every inch of your body as you struggled to reacclimate yourself. You were sure this place would haunt you as long as you lived, whether you stood in it or not didn’t matter.

Your throat went dry as you stared at the dark stains that littered the floor, remnants of various human’s bodily fluids. Blood, vomit, piss, and everything else that may leak from a human corpse was so continuous and abundant that there was no hope of the marks ever diminishing. Something told you Strade didn’t seem to mind, however. If anything, seeing those stains probably brought him some level of happiness, acting as pleasant little reminders of all the slaughter he had committed, a trophy for the lives he had stolen.

And there, smack dab in the middle of the basement stood the support beam he had tied you to, effectively barring your escape from this place. Witnessing it again was bad enough, but as your eyes locked onto it your heart started racing once more, your terror hitting unprecedented levels at the realization that there was a body there, tied up and trapped just as you once were.

At first you thought maybe you were hallucinating, seeing some phantom version of yourself your mind had conjured under the extreme stress you were facing. But as you continued to stare, noticing the slight rise and fall of their chest, hearing the small wheezes coming from their direction with each motion, it became apparent they were no figment of your imagination. Long hair fell from their slumped head, obscuring your vision of their face, but judging by what you could see of their body they looked to be around your age, similar to your build. You couldn’t help but wonder if you shared other features, had the same eye color, or maybe a similar facial structure.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Strade picked them because they reminded him of you.

Witnessing another human in this state made your stomach turn. It wasn’t so long ago that you were in that exact situation, and seeing them there helpless and oblivious to what lay before them filled you with the distressing urge to try and rescue them. If you could only run to them, untie their bindings and embrace them, let them know you were there for them and that they would be ok… Stupidly wisheful thinking, but maybe a miracle could still happen and that sweet lie would come true…

You shook your head slightly, dispelling the thought. No, it was all a tragic pipe dream, the fact they were here meant they were as good as dead and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop that.

“Hey!”

Strade barked, breaking you from the spell you were under. You jumped to attention, your wide eyes turning to him to give him your full attention. His scowl lessened at your recognition, “I know it’s all very exciting (Name), but pay attention when I am talking to you, alright?”

“Sorry,” your mouth barely formed the word, spitting it out so fast you wondered if it was even understandable. You were still in shock from being in such a terrible place, your brain lost in a fog as it struggled to comprehend why you were here, what Strade wanted of you, who that person on the floor was, and if you would make it through the day.

He sighed before stepping closer to you, irritation still lingering in his features. You fought every urge telling you to bolt, your body jolting as he gently patted your cheeks. After a few soft pats to garner your attention his strong hands continued to cup your cheeks, cradling your face in his palms. His skin was warm, the sweat from his hand moistening your skin as his thumb traced absentminded circles across scars he had created.

“Strip.”

The command didn’t register at first, making him lose patience. As you stood stock still his brows began to knit, foot tapping a bit as he waited for you to comply. After several seconds of inactivity on your end, he snapped his fingers in realization, his expression relaxing as something donned on him.

“Oh wait, it’s probably hard with the collar, right? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

From an unseen back holster, he brandished an imposing hunting knife, one that you would remember anywhere. It was the same one he tormented you the day he met you, the feel of it on your skin seared into your memory for all eternity. It had done a brilliant job keeping you at bay when he first imprisoned you, serving him well as the main tool that broke you.

Seeing it again was all too overwhelming, all too horribly familiar. Your body quaked, tears starting to flood your eyes, making your vision waver. Your lips moved, your throat struggling to speak, fighting to come up with something, anything that may stop him from using it on you. But ultimately there was nothing you could force out, so you just stood there blankly, flapping your lips in a failed attempt at self-preservation.

“What’s wrong?” Strade pouted, pulling at your collar, forcing you closer to him. You could barely feel the pain through your terror. “If you have something to say, you should say it. Or are you just so thrilled by all this that you can’t form a coherent thought,” he tutted, “Ah, I know the feeling well (Name), but don’t suddenly go mute on me! I want to fully enjoy all of your reactions, so don’t hold back. Think of it as your gift to me.” You shivered as he placed the knife under your shirt, cutting away haphazardly at the thin fabric, uncaring that he was nicking your flesh in the process.

With his body so near, the only sound you could focus on was Strade’s labored, rasping breathes as they rattled from his throat. He blithely ripped what was left of your clothing from your body, leaving it discarded in torn heaps on the ground. Thankfully he spared your underwear, but as his fingers languidly played with the strap of your bra, you wondered if he wouldn’t also reconsider letting you keep what remained of your decency.

“Tonight will be so good, meine Haustier,” his voice sounded hoarse, thick with anticipation as he hovered over you, nuzzling his face into your hair, “… This reminds me a lot of the night I brought you home. Maybe I am just feeling nostalgic, having you down here with me again, but it’s hard not to get wrapped up in such fond memories.”

He chuckled, “I’m thankful I was able to reel myself in back then and keep you, no matter how much I wanted to do otherwise.” He pointed his knife to the unconscious body on the floor, “This one I brought here today won’t be nearly as fun as you were, so I don’t want you to feel jealous, alright? You’re where you are for a reason, just as they are where they are for a reason. Mein Liebchen, I’m so glad I can share this moment with you...”

He pressed in closer to you, an unmistakable bulge in his pants grazing the exposed flesh of your leg as he did so. You both shuddered at the brief contact, though his reaction was for reasons far different than your own.

“This intimacy is nice, don’t you think? Sharing your passions with those close to you is what meaningful relationships are allllll about.”

He pulled away from you slightly, pressing the blade of his knife under your chin. Wincing at the briefest of contact with the blade, you raised your head to avoid slicing of your chin, stopping once you were eye to eye with Strade. Your noses nearly touched as he took in the features of your face, smiling at the sheer horror reflected in your eyes.

“And I want to remind you just how passionate I can be~”

He spun you around, giving you an abrupt shove. Unable to keep your balance you fell forward, your knees colliding with the stony floor. A hiss of pain slipped past your lips at the contact as Strade kneeled down next to you, tangling his fingers once more in your hair. With a sharp yank, he pulled your head up, directing your attention to the far corner of the room.

With his guidance, your gaze landed on something new.  A cage you couldn’t recall ever seeing filled your took up a sizable chunk of the side wall, making you wonder how you missed see it to begin with. How he got such an unwieldy contraption down the stairs previously without your notice was also lost on you. The thing looked far too heavy for one person to easily transport, even if it came in pieces.

It looked incredibly sturdy, each side comprised of thick, imposing iron bars. The cage was moderately sized- large enough for people to sit in, but not so large that it would be a comfortable arrangement. At a glance, it seemed to be made for a dog, but the girth of the bars and thick padlock on the door were completely unnecessary features for a canine, even the largest and most aggressive dog breeds wouldn’t need something so robust to keep them contained. Strade must have had it special made, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was made for. You clenched your fists, fighting the queasiness that this new facet of the day brought to the table. You knew the cage shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, but you couldn’t help but be a bit addled by it. You briefly wondered if there was a limit to how much he would spend to fuel his sick intentions.

The cage sat off to the side, out of the way of the main walkway and slightly hidden behind the stairs so that it wasn’t immediately noticeable, but it was still close enough to the rest of the rooms fixtures that anyone trapped inside would have a clear view or what was happening around them. Which you figured was the point. What better seat for an unwilling audience?

“I originally bought this for Ren, but he was much easier to house train then you were.” Strade laughed, removing his hand from your hair to clap you on the shoulder. He turned his gaze to Ren who stood by the cage expectantly, waiting to fulfill his role in the nights unfolding misery. “Why don’t you show her inside, Ren? Get yourselves all comfy for the show.”

With a quick nod, Ren scampered in before you, giving you just enough room to squeeze in beside him. Nestling in, he turned to you with a strange mix of fear and anticipation in his eyes, patting the area next to you with a small smile on his lips.

“Come in, (Name),” he looked up at you through his lashes, bashful despite the situation he willingly crawled into, “There’s plenty of room.”

Strade gave you no opportunity to refute his invitation, dragging you along the floor by the collar until you arrived at the cages entrance. You gagged as the spikes dug into your flesh, your fingers attempting to find purchase and pull them out. But your grip kept slipping, the blood that coated each metallic link making it impossible to pry away.

At the entrance, Strade quickly unlatched your adjoining leash, pushing the side of his foot against your ass to shove you into the cage, treating you much the same way you would a misbehaving dog. He slammed the door behind you the moment your limbs were barely through the door, preventing you from backtracking. He hastily secured the huge padlock after he did so, effectively trapping you and Ren inside.

“I know you’ll watch, but I can’t trust her,” Strade spoke to Ren, kneeling down so that he was eye level with the two of you, “Latch her collar to the top bar, I want her focused.”

Ren was quick to follow orders, contorting himself around you so he could bind you to the cage. Part of you hoped he would show mercy, sneakily attaching the collar to a lower bar on the cage to give you more breathing room. As you felt the spikes dig farther into your skin that dream dashed from your mind. You choked back a sob as you heard the clasp click into place behind you, Ren planting a fleeting kiss to the top of your head as he did so, his way of begging forgiveness for the pain he was helping inflict

Sitting with your back completely straight, you kept your legs tucked under you, the full weight of your body supported by your knees. The slightest bit of slouching, leaning, or turning your head would plunge the spikes into your already torn up neck, amplifying your suffering. Locked into place, you were left with no choice but to sit at attention.

Maybe you could have unclasped the collar yourself for a bit of reprieve, you were sure after some blind fumbling you could figure out how to free yourself. But stuck behind a formidable lock with Strade on the other side, what would be the point? There was no place for you to run to, and if you disobeyed Strade at this point you were a sitting duck. A heavy sense of resignation settled in your soul. You no longer fought the tears that came to your eyes, letting them freely dribble down your checks to land in soft drops on your lap.

With no hope of escape, that left you with one option to get through this-endure.

“Überraschung,” Strade exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as he stared down at you with wild, manic eyes. “What a sight this is! I must say (Name), even though your overall your obedience has improved, you still have quite the rebellious streak, don’t you?” He leaned down to get a better view of you, breathing deeply as his face began turning red from excitement, “Not that I don’t like when you get feisty, training and domesticating wild animals is something I take great pleasure in after all. But I have to say, seeing you like this?” He released an elongated, low whistle. “Schön. Keeping you has been worth it for moments like this. You really are a treat, behavioral issues and all.”

He exhaled as he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes never once leaving yours. “This is good, natural even. You belong here, (Name). Chained up like that… You’re right where you are supposed to be.”

His words were shaky, his composure slipping as his tongue trailed his bottom lip. The flush of his cheeks was now also creeping down his neck, ardent lust seeping from his expression. You shivered. Were it not for these bars separating you, you loathed to think what atrocities he would commit against you in this amped up state.

You bit back the retort that threatened to spill from your quivering jaw, biting so hard on your bottom lip you tasted blood. You hated him, loathed him with your entirety, but you also understood that one misspoken word was all it would take for you to be swapped with whatever unfortunate soul was tied to that pole. Despite it all, you still wanted to live. Clinging to the hope that someday you would get the chance to leave this place behind and return to the life that was stolen from you.

Making your freedom a reality was your daily affirmation you repeated to yourself, the one thing that truly kept you going. You made a promise to yourself that Strade would someday turn into nothing more than a horrible nightmare, a dirty smear in your past, and you very much intended to keep that promise. You would someday live out the rest of your life happy and safe, surrounded by friends and family, people you loved and who would love you in turn. Maybe you would even get married, have a kid or two.

Part of you knew thinking that way was foolish, and it usually caused you more despair than bringing you any true peace. But even if it was a silly dream, it was all you had. Strade has already stolen everything else, so you clung to your dream as your only salvation, relying on it as a means of survival.  

You had to make it through this, you had to get away and rebuild yourself from the shattered pieces Strade had broken you into. Not just for yourself, but for everyone he had ever murdered and brutalized. It was the only way you could beat him. It was the only way you could win.

“Well, no point in making any of us wait any longer,” Strade announced as he turned on his heel, making his way over to the slumped form in the center of the room. Your heart went out to them as he directed his full attention their way, staring down at them with a crazed, bloodthirsty smile. “This is pretty new for me too, ya know? Usually this is ‘me’ time, moments I can work and enjoy myself with the new friends I bring in in peace. But having a live audience? That’s sure gonna add some thrill to this.”

He turned his attention back towards you and Ren, his face glowing in excitement. “And I figured what the hell! It’s Christmas, right? Why be greedy when I can share in the celebration!  Ren already loves watching my little home movies, so I thought, ‘why not do a special live performance for my two favorite individuals?’”

Your body lurched in horror as Strade abruptly kicked his hostage square in the stomach, the force of it waking them with an agonized groan. You gasped as they coughed in pain, spit and blood sputtering from their mouth as slowly they came to. You watched on in morbid silence, a frown spreading across your lips when as you noticed the dawning horror that came over them. They were no longer in an ignorant fog of sleep, fully aware now that something truly dreadful was about to happen to them. 

Terrified recognition filled their eyes when they landed on Strade. Instantly they started to cry, whimper and plead, leaving you to wonder just how badly things went down between the two of them before you all ended up down here.

Trembles wracked your body, each quiver faintly clanging the metal of your collar against the cage. How you yearned to deafen your ears, gouge out your eyes, or will yourself away from what was unfolding before you. The mere thought of witnessing the oncoming torture, reliving your own capture through this doomed sod…  it was all too much. If given the opportunity, you would have done anything to flee and hide.

But there was no running from this. You couldn’t turn away. You couldn’t do anything at all.

“Hey buddy, calm down!” Strade spoke in a light hearted manner, invading the captive’s personal space as he crouched down in front of them. “Don’t you know it’s Christmas? Since you were looking so sad all alone at that bar last night I decided to play the role of Santa and give you a little gift! I took you in out of the goodness of my heart, because no one deserves to be alone on the holiday, right? And look,” He roughly grabbed their chin, forcing their tear stained face towards your cage, “I even brought friends to assure you wouldn’t be lonely! Pretty thoughtful of me, huh?”

You averted your stare as soon as they made eye contact, unable to stand the sheer hopelessness reflected in their forlorn gaze. Their whimpering and pleading continued, unfettered by the dialogue Strade was droning on. The desperation in their voice as they tried to reason with the most unreasonable man on the planet was making your skin crawl, irritation setting your face into a scowl. Couldn’t they see how amped up Strade was? Were they really so deluded to think their incessant begging would do them any favors? Did they not realize their cries were just exciting him more?

Eventually, you squeezed your eyes closed, wanting a break from it all even for a few seconds. Their naivety was driving you insane- a cruel reminder of the person you once were.

Suddenly, an ear splitting scream pieced the air, causing your eyes to fly open. The blood in your veins turned to ice as you saw Strade’s signature knife protruding from the captive’s leg, his hand still wrapped firmly around the handle, wriggling it further into their meat. The blade was buried deep, deep enough to cause true damage, and the blood that gushed from the new wound quickly gathered in a morbid puddle beneath their legs. If left unattended, you were sure they may bleed out, dying in slow agony.

“Oops, maybe I went a bit too deep there,” Strade nonchalantly spoke, pulling the knife carelessly from their leg. They released another sharp cry at the blades exit, squirming in pain and misery as blood sputtered from the gash. Strade continued to speak, unfettered by the gore that splashed against his leg, “But you weren’t listening very well when I was trying to talk earlier, so hopefully that’ll help you focus. I’ll try and be more mindful though, don’t wanna do too much too soon. You’re the star of the show today buddy, can’t have you dipping out on us before we even get started.”

Strade cut a piece of fabric from their victim’s shirt, tying it sloppily around the gaping wound he inflicted. It wasn’t placed as a means to help them so much as a way to help staunch the bleeding to keep them lucid for as long as possible. If there was one thing Strade hated, it was his fun being prematurely cut short.

“Well,” Strade slapped his knees, lifting himself up to his full height, “Usually I like to get to know you a little better before we get to this point, but what with my special guests and all, we don’t have as much time as I would have liked to become acquainted.”

Your eyes trailed Strade as he walked over to a tripod sitting off to the side. Your eyes widened as he reached for it, setting it up with skilled expertise as he had done so many times before. His captive stared blankly at the camera, clearly confused as to what awaited them. You couldn’t decide if their ignorance was a tragedy or a godsend. If they knew this was their final moment of relative peace before their violent end… Would they try an appreciate it, or would that just bring them more dismay?

After the main camera was set up to his liking, he made his way towards you and Ren. You stiffened at he approached, a new spike of anxiety rising within you as he fiddled with something in his pocket. It was your turn for confusion now, staring in perplexion as he pulled out another small camera, setting it up so that it faced your cage. After some finagling to get it just right, the small red light on it turned green.

“There we go,” Strade smiled, tying his signature bandana around his mouth after he completed his setup, his wide eyes gleaming with cruel intent, “Figured the viewers at home deserved a little special something, too. Smile for the camera you two!”

Shame flushed your exposed body as you did all you could to avoid looking into the camera’s nebulous, black lens. You curled yourself up as much as physically possible, revolted by the realization that other sickos were tuning in, getting off to an impending murder and your humiliation. How many people were on the other side of that small orb, desperately waiting for Strade to begin so they could scratch their fucked up itch? How many pairs of eyes were roving over your barely clothed, bloody body right now, pleased for such an enticing appetizer before they dug into the main course? You didn’t know what disgusted you more, Strade himself or the fact that he had enough ‘fans’ out there that were of a similar mindset, who avidly watched and supported him enough that he could live comfortably off live-streaming his slaughters.

After some brief adjustments (apparently your camera wasn’t focused enough, the ‘fans’ were complaining about not having a clear shot of ‘the bitch’s stupid, sniveling face’), Strade eventually made his way back over to the main camera, flicking it on and checking the feed on a nearby laptop to make sure everything was looking as it should. Once he was satisfied, he hopped in front of the camera, the jovial smile on his face noticeable even behind his mask.

“Frohe Weihnachten an alle! Oh wait,” he fished around in a drawer beneath his laptop, eventually yielding a slightly wrinkled Santa’s hat that he plopped gleefully upon his head. “That’s better! How is everyone doing this fine, festive holiday?”

Strade’s eyes scanned over the chat, laughing here and there as he read peoples responses. “I see you all noticed the new edition to the party. Ren, (Name), why don’t you give the nice people watching at home a smile?”

Refusing to acknowledge his deluded request, you kept your eyes to the floor, focusing on anything else but the situation you were in. Your legs ached from your balancing act, the impression of the cold cage bars long since deeply engraved in your skin. You grimaced when you tried to reposition them, the bastard could have at least thrown a towel in here for you.

Strade responded to a few more ‘questions’ before releasing a low whistle. “Hey now,” he chided, his voice holding a warning edge to it “I’m happy to share my cute pets with you, but some things only I get to see, yeah? Get your minds out of the gutter, the requests for the day aren’t for them, they’re for our latest catch.”

Strade scratched the back of his head, looking towards you with an amused twinkle in his eye.  “I think you two may be a bigger hit then our new friend! A little rude to our guest, but I can’t say I blame the masses.” He gave an exaggerated shrug, laughing a bit as he shook his head. “But enough talk. Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

He made his way over to his tool wall, his finger trailing the varying allotment of devices he owned. He stopped briefly, looking back towards the camera with lidded eyes. “So what are you guys feeling? Should we bust out our old friend the drill, or maybe something a bit more colorful, like the new handsaw I purchased the other day?”

The captive began to struggle with renewed intensity against their binds, thrashing about in a final attempt of escape. Their cries for help turned into wailing screeches, screaming and cursing as loud as they could muster in the hope that someone would magically hear them and come to their rescue. You hissed under your breath angrily, wishing they had never been caught, wishing they could spend Christmas with their family, wishing they would just shut up, wishing this would all end.

“Ohhh, we got a lively one~” Strade purred, grabbing a tomahawk off a nearby hook as he eyed chat, “and I agree with the majority here, it’s best to start off slow. Let’s begin with some little stuff and work up to the main event, really taking our time to enjoy this wonderful moment together.” He eyed the tool in his hand, picking at a remainder of a price tag that stuck stubbornly to the handle. “You may not believe me, but I only purchased this little guy to help with some pesky overgrowth in my yard, not to use on my company. Guess it can’t hurt to test out its sharpness and strength beforehand though, can it?”

Your heart palpitated as Strade stalked his way over to his cornered victim, mutely praying that some act of god would occur that would keep them from being decimated. He towered over them, thoughtfully musing on where he wanted to begin, what part of their body he wanted to mutilate first. He absent mindedly tossed the tomahawk from one hand to the next as he considered his plan of attack, sizing up his prey as if they were nothing more than a slab of meat. You struggled briefly against your binding in last ditch effort to shield yourself you from the ‘show’. But like a cruel child jabbing their fingers into you when you weren’t paying them enough attention to them, the spikes gave you a torturous reminder of the position you had been assigned to play in this performance.

Oddly enough, the stab of the protrusions didn’t hurt nearly as much as they did before. Maybe your body was adapting to the cruelties Strade subjugated it to, or maybe you were finally becoming desensitized to everything you had been forced to experience.  Maybe someday it would get to the point where you could be completely unfeeling, like a robot just going through the motions as Strade lived out his wicked life, you forcefully in tow. It was almost a comforting thought, whatever adjustments your body and soul had to make to assure your continued survival, so be it.

However, if the pit forming in your stomach and sweat drenching your brow as you watched Strade inch closure and closure to his victim was any indicator, you were sure something inside of you would always hold on to amity, reminding you just how painfully human you were, heart-breaking empathy and all.

‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,’ you chanted in your head, fresh tears carving slick trails down your cheeks when Strade kick their leg, digging the heel of their boot harshly into their stab wound. Bright red bloomed around the fabric covering the wound, their screams growing gravelly the longer they strained their vocal cords. You did your best to hold back the worst of your sobs, rogue sniffles and hiccups escaping despite your best efforts. If there was an afterlife, you hoped that theirs was full of nothing but warmth, peace, and all the things they love. It was the least they deserved for this.

You were vaguely aware of Ren repositioning himself next to you, his head nestling against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, shielding you slightly in an almost protective manner. Pressed so close, you could feel that he was shivering, his heart beating a mile a minute as it thrummed against your skin. Whether it was from fear, excitement, or both, you were unable to say.

Strade turned around, giving you one last mirthful glance as he readied his tomahawk over the toes of his captive’s right foot.  Though they squirmed intensely, he held a death grip on the limb, keeping them from breaking free. “Make sure to pay close attention now,” desire radiated from his demeanor, voice husky as narrowed eyes briefly roved your restrained form “and don’t feel too neglected over there, I’ll make sure to save some of the fun juuust for you once I finish with our pal over here.”

His eyes darted to the camera, shooting it a look of mock sympathy “For my eyes only of course, you all understand right? Thank you for being here friends, and Frohe Weihnachten für mich!~”

He slammed the blade down. A blood curdling scream erupted from the center of the room as their toes disconnected from the rest of their foot, signaling the beginning of their end.

And you sat like a statue, cold and rigid as your unwilling eyes bore witness to each act of savagery.

[scuderiasundays]

by your side

summary: pinterest boards, rehearsal dinners, and late night professions of love written from carlos’ pov 🪭 a continuation of the smoothest operation + a little insta au at the end!

words: 867

a/n: i hated making you wait so i tried my very best to fit in your req, anon! my sincere apologies if it’s not what you’d hoped for. tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee and @diorleclerc just because. let me know if i should turn this into a series! feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

July 2022 

You hated it when reporters asked who wore the pants in your relationship, the outdated implication that one partner should have the upper hand over the other. The simple truth was that you two struck the perfect balance. She remained levelheaded at times when you’d go into what you playfully coined "full Latino mode." She had a tendency to overthink, and you’d sat by her side on countless nights, hand in hand, whispering, "Everything will fall into place, mi querida. You’ll see." She was all of the best feelings in the world in human form: clean sheets on a freshly made bed, the first bite into a decadent burger, champagne showers after a sensational drive.

The sun cast a gentle, orange glow on her face as you rubbed your eyes, stepping into the living room. She had fallen asleep on your off-white couch, still in her scrubs after a long night shift. Her laptop lay open on the marble coffee table, a Pinterest board of wedding paraphernalia on full display. The ever-growing F1 calendar had kept you on the go, leaving your fiancée to check off the majority of your pre-wedding to-do list by herself. You couldn’t put your finger on just why you were tearing up, a surge of emotions taking over as you scrolled through the photos. You reached the bottom of the page when you stumbled upon a Polaroid of her in a white dress.

Months ago, you’d overheard her and Ana talk about fabrics as they baked banana bread. "Chiffon? No. Lace? No. Ay, tulle!" You exclaimed, so caught up you hadn’t even noticed her stirring awake. You quietly closed her laptop shut.

"Is this for your next racing suit? I’d say lace is a bit scandalous but, hey, give the people what they want," she giggled as she slowly got up. The espresso machine, a Christmas gift from her, hummed to life. She was making you an espresso out of habit, strong just the way you preferred. You breathed a sigh of relief; grateful her mind had been hazy enough to brush off that you’d been listing off wedding dress fabrics mere minutes ago.

"What did I do to deserve you?" You wrapped your hands around her waist and kissed the nape of her neck. A year from now, she’d be walking down the aisle in that very dress. A year from now, she would be yours for all eternity.

July 2023

The season had been far from kind to you and your teammate Charles. Thankfully, Y/N had taken some time off work leading up to the wedding, providing some much-needed relief from the relentless cycle of "flight, race, simulator, repeat." The pressure and pent-up frustration could have easily consumed you by now if it weren’t for the thought of her eagerly waiting at each checkered flag. Regardless of whether you ended the race with 25 points or none, she was the only person you wanted to see.

You had never been one to voluntarily go on record about the love you two shared. It felt too sacrosanct, too precious. It, nonetheless, was no surprise when press from worldwide gathered in Avila, eager to catch a glimpse of you and Y/N’s big day. Both your sisters had gotten married in this town and, if there was one thing about the Sainz family, it was that they were big on tradition.

This is why you weren’t all too surprised when your parents revealed that you and Y/N would be spending your wedding eve apart. The rehearsal dinner had gone relatively smoothly, despite a few hiccups along the way. Rupert’s daughter Harlow Reyes had refused to hand over the rings, claiming them as her own. Lando attempted to deliver a heartfelt speech but ended up cry laughing in the way only he would, leaving him unable to finish. Yet, in the end, you were just happy to have everyone you loved under one roof.

"Care to join me?" Y/N motioned toward the vineyard, an effortless smile adorning her face. The night had fallen, but the gentle glow of fairy lights illuminated her silhouette.

"By this time tomorrow, we’ll be husband and wife," she remarked. He could see the glint in her eye as she breathed in the thick summer air. She was a sight to behold in her white vest and tailored pants. In that moment, you thought to yourself, "I’m the luckiest man alive," as you made your way towards her.

You wanted to thank her for everything. For answering the phone at 3 AM when jet lag and stress left you gasping for air on a bathroom floor oceans away. For being the beautiful face you could steal glances at as you sat behind the wheel during spontaneous road trips. For making you feel like you were worthy of being loved. For being your constant.

Instead, you simply said, "Every day, starting tomorrow, will be the best day of my life because I get to spend it by your side. You have all my heart, Y/N. Every single piece." You proceeded to squeeze her hand three times, your secret signal for "I love you" because, boy, did you mean it.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by carlossainz55, heidiberger_, and 57,575 others

yourusername: one more sleep until forever

fan1: considering a red eye to spain just for my “speak now” moment 🫠 i am delusional and live 3,000 miles away

carlossainz55: this distance is unbearable. come back?

charles_leclerc: she’s literally a floor above us, mate. go to 🛏️

fan2: i’m from avila and ran into the whole grid + some retired drivers this weekend

fan3: retired drivers? seb? 🤔🤭

landonorris: i vow (wink wink) to get through the speech tomorrow! i just get all choked up because i love you both so much

yourusername: lies! you and i both know you lost it when @alex_albon started pulling funny faces 😤

[enchantedbarnes]

Uncle Buck • Part 5

Meddlingpunkitis

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Masterlist: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

Benji shot up from bed first thing in the morning, excited to see your first reaction after setting up his movie night.

He sat at the kitchen table waiting. You eventually walk in to grab a drink from the fridge and then walk back out as if it was a regular morning. Why did he only get a passing noogie?

Benji quickly looks over at his dad sitting next to him, "Aren't people in love supposed to be like, floating and all dopey looking??"

Theo finishes a sip of his coffee, "Not necessarily. If you're talking about your aunt, I've never seen her, as you describe, 'dopey in love.' Also, it is 6 in the morning. It's a miracle she's even awake right now. If you see her looking happy and 'floating' at 6am, I think we have a body snatching case to worry about instead."

Benji let's out an annoyed grunt as he scoops up the last of his eggs into his mouth and storms out of the kitchen.

Theo shrugs to himself, taking another sip of coffee while scrolling through emails on his laptop.

"That should be promising," he mutters to himself.

Benji stops in your doorway, "Are you and Bucky official yet?"

"Official...ly human? I'd say 90-99% for sure. Verdict is still out."

"Is he your boyfriend now?" He clarifies with a huff.

You shrug while sipping your drink, looking through your closet for today's outfit.

"You're the most frustrating person alive," he stomps off.

-----

Strolling through the aisles, you and Benji were out on a shopping trip after you picked him up from school to pick out decorations for the upcoming holiday season and your annual Christmas party.

Benji riding at the front of the cart, his feet on the basket underneath and hands holding onto the front while pointing which direction you should steer and which aisles to stop at next.

"Sorry dude, 6 bags of family size sour patch kids didn't make the budget cut." You stop him as his arms reach out to grab as many as they can hold.

"How about 4?"

"You can grab one," you hold up a finger, "of the smaller sharable sizes, final answer."

"Fiiiine," he tosses the smaller bag into the cart, "What about peanut slim shady's?"

"Alright, one bag of peanut slim shady's too," you agree.

You told him when he was around 4 years old that M&M's were called Slim Shady's because the rapper Eminem invented them. None of you have had the heart to correct him or teach him otherwise as he got older and you hope he never stops calling them Slim Shady's.

The look on his little face when you had joined in taking him trick or treating shortly after that...

Benji gleefully skips over to you in his little werewolf costume while shouting, "Looks! I got slim shady's!" Holding the tiny packet of candy up to you, waving it over his head.

"The real slim shady's?!" You asked in reply, trying to keep a straight face.

He nodded back enthusiastically.

"We need to grab some new string lights since we used some for the movie room. Maybe a new tree topper too.." you listed off.

"No! We can't replace tree monster!"

"I thought you hated tree monster?"

"It's a part of the tradition now!"

"Okay, okay. Tree monster rides again another year then. How about a new tree skirt? Does the Christmas Tradition Committee agree with that?"

"Mm…. Yeah, that should be fine."

"Your mom texted with a reminder to grab more garlands for the stairs banister," you read aloud while looking at your phone.

You texted Bucky earlier before you left on your shopping adventure with a quick hello to check in with him and see how his day was going, sharing that you were picking Benji up from school.

You notice a reply from him that says,

'Stuck with Samuel today 🙄'

"Look at this pillow! It looks like a dinosaur chicken nugget!" Benji lifts the pillow up to your face.

"It's the most beautiful chicken nugget pillow I've ever seen."

"We should get it for Monty! Do you think they have french fries too???"

"If that's what you would like to get him, sure. Add it to the cart, bud."

"Yessss!" He cheers as he hops back onto the cart while singing a made up song about chicken nuggets.

Turning the corner to leave the aisle you slow down so you don't push Benji and the cart into anyone. Benji looks around the corner for you, "Clear!"

"Thank you, co-pilot."

You make your way over to the Christmas decorations finally.

"How about this ornament?" Benji asks with a wide grin while holding up a large ornament that says "Just Married" on the back of a car window.

"You're hilarious. Hold on while I search for an 'in memoriam' option," you playfully glare down at him.

"She likes it," he smirks to himself as he skips down the aisle.

"Hey, get back over here. Put that back, you gremlin!"

He giggles and turns out of the aisle.

"Benji, you know better than to leave out of my eyesi-"

"NO WAYYY! AHHHHH!" You hear Benji shout from the next aisle.

You ditch the cart and take off after him assuming the worst from his shouting.

You stop short when you turn the corner and see what the shouting was about.

"LOOK AUNT Y/N!"

"Heyyy Aunt Y/n," Sam grins while holding onto Benji who jumped up in an attack hug.

You breathe a sigh of relief, "Oh hey, Sam! Glad to see you here and not some stranger dragging this one screaming out of the store," you greet back with a relieved smile, "Benj you can't run off and start shouting like that. Can you give Sam his personal space back now please? Thank yooou."

Benji hops down, "Are you shopping for decorations too??" He asks excitedly.

"We were just-"

Benji let's out an exceptionally loud gasp as he looks ahead down the main aisle, "Future. Uncle. Buckyyy!!!" He takes off running again across the store.

Bucky's eyes widen as he spins around. He catches the projectile 8-year-old leaping at him with his right arm, while the left holds his shopping basket with items he was carrying.

Benji releases his arms from his death grip hug and cups his hands on both sides of Bucky's face, squeezing his cheeks till his mouth puckers.

"I'm so happy to see you!!!"

"M ha-py t' see y'too," Bucky muffles back. "What do you have there?" He asks once his face is released, nodding at the ornament Benji is still clutching between his fingers.

"If I show you, Aunt Y/n is going to make me sleep outside in a tent for a week."

"Is that so?" He looks over at you with an eyebrow raised while lowering Benji back to the ground.

"For the record, I never said that," you hold your hands up in defense, "but I wouldn't rule that option out completely," you shrug while walking over quickly and snatching the ornament, crossing your arms so it's tucked under and unseen.

Another awkward encounter to add to the tally.

"We're shopping for decorations," Benji grins while Bucky places his basket down next to him. "We have a Christmas party coming up! You'll come, right??"

Bucky is bent down at eye level with Benji, "Well, I'm not sure -"

"It's the Saturday the week before Christmas!" Benji starts rattling off the date and time of the party, listing who is expected to be there.

Bucky looks over at you, his eyebrows raised.

You shrug again, "Don't look at me, it's his world, we're just living in it. But yes, you're absolutely invited if you don't already have any plans. You too, Sam." You smile at them.

"Would it be rude if I bring a plus three? My sister and nephews are visiting," Sam asks.

"Are they Benji's age? We'd love to have them join too."

Benji pumps his fists, cheering to himself. "Yesss!" He skips ahead pulling Sam along, directing him towards the next few aisles while firing away questions about his nephews.

Bucky stands up and leans against the nearest end cap with a smirk on his face.

"Hi," his eyes narrow in suspicion as he quickly looks over at your crossed arms, "Are you really not going to show me whatever it is you're hiding?"

"Absolutely fucking not, thank you so much for asking."

He laughs at your answer while you try to think what to do next. "Fancy meeting you here though. What did Sam do to convince you to go shopping?"

"Oh, you know, good ol' fashion lies and deception."

"Ah, yes. Of course," you step closer, "The promise of food and future solitude to lure you out? And then the classic 'gotta make a quick pitstop' announcement halfway?"

He snaps his fingers and points your way, "That's the one."

You grin and hold your arms out in an invitation for a hug, making sure the ornament is tucked into your hand and sleeve. His smile softens when you step closer again and he accepts your hug.

"Happens to the best of us," you answer while trying to play it cool. With your arms around him, you give a slight squeeze that he returns. Reaching out your right arm very slowly to try and tuck the ornament on the shelf behind him discreetly. Your plan was to hide the ornament behind the larger items on the shelf behind him. Nothing gets by the super soldier though. As he goes to turn his head to see what you're up to, you have to think fast on a distraction and quickly leave a peck on his cheek that was now in front of you.

His eyes widen slightly as his head swivels back over at you and then narrow in suspicion. You finally drop the ornament as quietly and quickly as you can. He goes to turn again, this time lifting you off the ground and turning both of you for him to better see. Grabbing his face with both your hands now you continue to plant quick kisses all over.

"Is it that bad?!" He laughs, beaming over at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm also just so happy to see you," you feign innocence while trying to pull away. He squeezes you closer while tickling at your sides. You break into laughter as you continue to try and break free.

Sam and Benji both poke their heads around the aisle and smirk at each other, sharing in a discreet high five, before ducking back into the aisle out of sight.

Ornament now forgotten, Bucky doesn't take his eyes off you as you both smile warmly at each other. He quickly lifts you again and starts walking you both towards the direction the other two went. Pausing quickly he leans in with a smirk and gives you a quick kiss before continuing to shuffle the both of you forward.

You send a warning text off to Bucky the morning of the Christmas party:

'hi... just a quick heads up for tonight (and I mean that warning literally...) Benji has covered the house in mistletoe. Latest scheme seems to be getting us under all of them at some point. How would you like to proceed?'

'10 - 4. Do we get to mess with him?'

'Absolutely. 🫡 See ya tonight, friend.'

'Later, pal 🙄'

-----

Walking into the living room carrying a plate of snacks, a knock on the door grabs your attention and you hurry over to open it. Opening the door with one hand, while still balancing the snacks in the other. You spot the giant kissing ball hanging above the porch and roll your eyes.

Bucky and the Wilson's arrive at the same time as one of Theos's coworkers. You quickly greet them and usher them all through the door.

"Daaang, look at you. Your hair is so long," Sam comments walking in.

"Don't get used to this. I do not have the patience for this. Prudence insisted on straightening and styling it for me."

"Noted," he chuckles, "Did you add more colors, or were these always there and hidden in the curls?"

"I added more in. Benji used to tell his friends at school I was part My Little Pony."

"You had a pony..? I think I'm missing a reference," Bucky asks.

"It was a popular set of toys and an animated show called My Little Pony. It was colorful ponies with bright colored hair."

"Right...of course..."

This gets a small laugh from you as you place the snack tray on one of the many tables set up.

"YOU CAME!" Benji shouts running into the room.

Greetings and introductions made, Nora rushes over to say her own hellos and takes the Wilson's to meet the other kids that have arrived so far. Benji looks up at you expectantly. There's another sprig hanging above nearby, you just have to take 4 or 5 steps closer towards Bucky.

You stare back at Benji, not moving from your spot. "What are you lookin' at?"

He huffs and goes to catch up with Nora.

You move closer and kiss Bucky on the cheek, "This should be fun." Nodding your head up, "Quick recap, I've counted 6 so far. Best placed one is over by that bookcase," you tilt your head towards it, "He angled it juuust right so you don't notice it until you directly stand in that corner there."

"I don't know, you look very beautiful all dolled up. Might not be able to stick to this plan."

"You clean up pretty well yourself, but I'm not letting him win. Sorry." You pat his shoulder as Prudence and Monty steal Bucky away and you finish setting the last of the snacks and napkins out.

The front door opens as more people arrive.

Included in the latest arrivals is your neighbor Frank who walks in with his niece.

Benji walks by Bucky nodding his head "discreetly" towards the door and mouths, "Frank." He then mimes sticking his finger in his mouth and gagging while he continues to scramble away and stand near Nora once again.

-----

You're chatting with Sarah on the couch. Benji walks up and throws himself dramatically across your lap. "Hi, are you going to sit here all night?" He asks.

"Maybe, what's it to you?"

"Can we make gingerbread houses?"

"Prudence already set everything up on the kitchen counter, knock yourself out."

"But I need adult supervision."

"For what? To stop you from eating frosting? There's no tools involved."

"Moral support and guidance in knowing I'm doing something right. What if I put up 5 walls by accident?"

"Then I'd be very impressed from afar at your architectural brilliance."

He groans and rolls off your lap, walking away.

"The drama," you roll your eyes, "Do you think Aj and Cass would like to join him? We have plenty of kits."

"I'm sure they'd love that. I'll go ask them, thank you so much."

-----

You were now standing no more than three feet from the kitchen entry that had a bundle of mistletoe hanging above it. Sam and Nora standing to the left of you, the kitchen entry to your right. A table is behind you with a bowl of family friendly egg nog set up on it. Frank approaches you and the table. You greet eachother with friendly hellos and you introduce him to Sam. As they shake hands you take a few steps back to move out of the way of the table, offering Frank an empty cup.

In taking those steps back you were now dangerously close to the mistletoe-trapped entry with Frank still next to you. As you're asking how his niece is doing, you feel something hit the back of your head. Nora tries to discreetly cover her mouth to shield her reaction.

Your hand flies up to brush through your hair as you look at the ground. At your feet you see a gumdrop and a small gingerbread chunk laying there. You whip your head up and glare into the kitchen.

Benji's hands fly up in fake surrender, "It slipped! I told you I need adult supervision! These gingerbread pieces are crazy!"

The group of kids giggle as they pause their decorating to watch.

"Oh, I'll show you something crazy," you step into the kitchen and Benji takes off, ducking around you to escape. He slips in front of Theo and his co-workers playing it up like he was intently listening to their conversation, as if he had been there the whole time fake nodding along.

"Stop terrorizing your aunt," Theo says without even needing to assess the situation.

Benji clutches his chest, "I would never."

Bucky smirks into his drink as he watches from across the room. Quickly returning his attention to Monty and Prudence next to him.

Benji eventually sneaks his way back into the kitchen when all eyes and attention were finally off him.

-----

A couple times now you have taken turns in frustrating Benji to no end.

You're currently standing innocently under one of the many mistletoe, taking a sip from your glass in hand. You could see Benji in the corner of your peripheral trying to hide under a table. Bucky then walks by slowly. Benji's hands clench into anxious little fists in front of him, his small head poking up from the table ever so slightly. You and Bucky exchange a quick passing pleasantry to each other as he continues to walk by without stopping. Benji drops his head to the floor, groaning in frustration.

You smirk into your drink as you take another sip.

Nora and Theo have taken a different approach for the night and keep purposefully stepping under every mistletoe near Benji and giving each other exaggerated loud kisses. "Ugh, gross. Will you two stop it!" He crawls out from under the table and takes off across the room.

-----

"Hey, Y/n? Question for you..." You and Bucky both walk over to Sam who was standing by your decorated tree, "What am I looking at here?" He points to the top of the tree.

Bucky squints at the tree, his head tilting in confusion.

"That's tree monster..." You answer with a shrug.

"Tree what now?"

"We didn't have an official topper for our tree. Every year we'd just use a random toy up there. Benji came home from kindergarten one day with this masterpiece. I don't know what toy it used to be, but he sure did a number on it. And then I jokingly stuck wings to it thinking 'surely this will make us rethink this situation and get something else' but I was very mistaken. Theo added some googly eyes. Nora added the halo and reinforced it a bit...It's a complete abomination but we love him."

"It's deeply unsettling to look at, but I'm happy you have expressed your creative side as a family."

"I disagree," Bucky answers, "I think every store should have one, so that all families can enjoy having such a creative nightmare on their trees as well."

"Aww, thanks Bucky. I'm sure we could whip something up for you!" You joke.

"Ya know, I don't have a tree. So, darn...won't be needing one. Thanks for the offer."

"You don't have a tree??"

"A crypt has more decorations than this man's home. His place looks like someone moved out yesterday and left behind what they couldn't fit in the U-Haul."

"Thank you, Samuel."

-----

Your cousin Andrew arrives fashionably late with his wife Elyse and their 6 year old daughter Phoebe.

Phoebe squeals and runs up to Benji, throwing her adorable pudgey arms around him in a tight hug. His arms still at his sides while she squeezes tight, giggling with tiny glee. Benji always pretends to be annoyed but you all know he loves the attention. He pulls one of his arms free, patting her on the top of her head. "Hello, Phoebe. I'm glad you're here, I have a mission for you."

"Me??" She grins up at him while jumping up slightly.

"Ohh yeah, definitely you," he guides her across the room away from the adults.

"Andy!" You greet him with a hug when he walks up to you with Elyse, "Where's my Phoebs?" You look around his legs.

"She's -" he looks down and around the room, "She's in the building, she walked in before me. She saw Benji and took off with him."

"That can't be good," you laugh and introduce Andy and Elyse to Bucky, Sam, and Sarah.

During your conversation Bucky suddenly catches his balance and looks down as he feels a small body crash into him and wrap their arms around his legs.

Bright hazel eyes with a Cheshire smile beam up at him, the large grin showcasing her missing front bottom tooth.

"Hello there," Bucky laughs, greeting his new small friend.

"Hi, Uncle Bucky!" she giggles while Bucky's eyes widen.

"Oh no, it's contagious. Meddlingpunkitis has spread to the next youngest," you gasp dramatically while bending down to scoop up the giggling little blonde, "What will we dooooo?!" You cry out, "Not my little Phoebe!" You bend over again with her in your arms, hanging her upside down while tickling into her sides.

She giggles and squirms, trying to escape.

-----

Benji walks up with his gingerbread creation in hand on a platter. "Ta-daaaa," he sings, holding it up to you.

"Wow! Great job, Mr. I Need Supervision. Is that...?"

Benji rotates the plate so the front is now in better view. "It's a chapel!" He grins.

"That better be Mr. and Mrs. Claus..."

Closer inspection revealed one gingerbread figure with a black and yellow frosting lined arm and a bowtie, the other decorated with multi color frosting hair in a white outline "dress".

”You're exhausting, you know that? One part of me is really proud of you, because you did an amazing job on this. The other part really wants to smother you....with love of course," you give him a side eye, "Go put that back in the kitchen and never speak of this again."

Benji grins as he turns and retreats back towards the kitchen area, sneaking in a quick detour to show Sam his handywork. Sam immediately pulls his phone out to snap a quick picture of Benji holding it up to the camera with a grin.

-----

"I have an idea but it might be a tiny bit of a gamble and slightly outrageous.." you whisper to Bucky as you finally reunite in the same area.

Nora had just finished forcing everybody to gather around to take a series of group photos.

You've successfully dodged all the mistletoe encounters so far.

"How outrageous are we talking? I'm not kissing Sam."

"Oh come on, I wasn't asking that - unless-" you hold up your fingers to your chin in thought.

"No." He points a quick finger towards you.

"Okay, okaay. Fine."

You lean in closer and fill him in on your next plan.

"...you want me to kiss your neighbor?"

"Obviously the objective here is to avoid you actually needing to kiss her, but it's a sacrifice for the greater good here if it's unavoidable, Buck. Or we could go back to your Sam plan," you smile as sweetly as you can over at him.

"Y'know, at first I didn't recognize it, but now I definitely see that same evil little twinkle that's usually in Benji's eyes, and let me tell you," he leans closer, bending slightly to reach your height and points at your eyes, "It's absolutely genetic. You should see yourself right now."

"You think my eyes twinkle?" you grin up at him.

"Y/n," he sighs but starts to laugh.

"Pleeeease," you unleash the pout.

"That," he points at you again, "is even worse. You're serious?"

"Aren't you like, trained in stealth? You can do it!"

"Thank you so much for the pep talk, but I still don't understand why you want me to kiss your neighbor."

"You are so hung up on that tiny detail! I can assure you, it will not get that far. I had baked goods and candy launched at my head when I got too close earlier, I can't even begin to imagine what stunt will happen if you get close enough. He's probably gonna lower himself down from the ceiling somehow like something out of Mission Impossible. Oooor, if you don't wanna kiss Sam, I'll just gooo--" you start to step away but a hand shoots out and stops you, pulling you back to your original spot.

He glares over at you, "Not funny."

"A little funny?" You squint while pinching your fingers.

"Unbelievable," he places a quick kiss to your temple and releases your arm as he storms off towards the next target area.

"Go get 'em, tiger!" You call after him, just loud enough so only he's the one to hear you.

"It's white wolf," he mutters back.

"For real?"

Bucky starts to approach your neighbor who is standing under one of the many mistlebombs hanging around, this one strung up above a popular gathering area of the living room.

Before he can get within 3ft of dear sweet unsuspecting Sylvia, yelling erupts in the room with a chorus of AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!s. Suddenly 3 small bodies take down the super soldier. Benji leading the charge grabs onto an arm and attempts to climb up Bucky's back while Sarah's boys both tackle a leg of their own, making sure to get him at the back of the knees in their takedown.

Your eyes widen as you watch the group of them land in a heap on the floor.

You hold your breath waiting to see if you should run over and check on them but let out a relieved sigh when Bucky gives a dramatic roar and starts play fighting back with them while sitting up. The boys giggling and continuing their shouting and attack.

"Tiny savages," you shake your head.

"Should we help?" Nora asks walking up to you.

"Nah, I'm sure they're fine," as soon as the words are out of your mouth, sweet little Phoebe, not wanting to be left out of the excitement, joins in and hops onto Bucky's back, throwing her little arms around his neck.

"Oh shit. Hey, White Wolf? Ya good?" You hold your thumb up and then down.

You see a vibranium thumb pop up.

"See? He's got this."

-----

It was starting to get late. Most of the guests have already left. You're finishing up clearing off some of the tables with help from Bucky.

"You're our guest, you're not supposed to be doing clean up labor."

He shrugs, "I don't mind."

"Where'd you get the bracelet?" You laugh noticing the multi color beads circling his wrist.

"Phoebe gave it to me on their way out," he twists his wrist so the rest of it is in view.

"So stylish," you compliment while stacking some plates together.

Sam walks up with a tired AJ carried on his back.

"Y/n, as always, it's been a pleasure. Thank you so much for inviting all of us."

Sarah walks up carrying Cass who is already knocked out.

"Of course!" You pull him in for a hug, "Thank you so much for coming. It was an absolute pleasure having you all with us. Bye AJ, it was nice meeting you," you reach up to give him a fist bump that he sleepily returns.

"I hope you all can visit again soon," you pull Sarah in for a hug next and run your hand along sleeping Cass' back, "Merry Christmas!"

"Do you guys need any help?" Bucky asks while passing Sarah her bag and another bag filled with cookies the boys decorated.

"Nope, we're good. Theo is grabbing a taxi for us. You coming with?"

Bucky looks at his watch and nods with a shrug, "Probably a good idea."

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night," Sam waves while walking off towards the door.

"Wait!" Benji rushes down the stairs with two red envelopes.

"For you," he hands one over to Sam, "Merry Christmas!" He jumps up for a high five.

"Is this my wedding invitation finally?" Sam holds the envelope up to the light.

You give him a push towards the door, "It's a Christmas card. Get out of here."

"Sure, sure. See you at the wedding!" He smirks while stepping outside.

You shake your head and start to follow them out.

"Cab should be here in 5," Theo announces by the doorway before going back inside.

You step out onto the porch and give the Wilson's a final wave while they wait by the curb, checking out the neighbors light displays and decorations.

The large kissing ball with multiple mistletoe jammed in there hangs above you, dangling from the short roof over the porch.

Benji hops out onto the porch with Bucky following behind, pulling his leather jacket on.

"For you!" Benji hands the last envelope to Bucky, "Merrryyy Christmas!" He wraps his arms around Bucky's waist.

"Merry Christmas, bud. Thanks for the card."

Benji stares at him expectantly and then looks over at you.

"Am..I.. supposed to open it now??" Bucky asks.

Benji shrugs, still staring you both down, "You don't have to."

You scratch at your neck and try to discreetly point up, signaling to Bucky why the stare down was happening. His eyes follow up and you see him realize what's going on.

"Ok, I'll save it for later then. See ya," Bucky holds his hand up for a high five to Benji, who gladly winds back his arm to give the strongest high five he could.

Benji quickly realizes standing right there isn't going to get him the results he wants and he starts walking slowly back inside, "See ya, F.U.B.!"

Bucky's eyebrows scrunch while looking at you.

"I'm assuming that's Future Uncle Bucky," you sigh and answer for him.

"Ah," he grins, "Thanks again for having us, pal."

"You're very welcome, friend. One more fake out for the road?"

Bucky leans in close, you both tilt your heads, he slowly lifts his hand.. and pretends to pluck an eyelash off your cheek.

"Got it," Bucky jokes while pulling back, pretending to blow the lash off his finger.

"OH MY GOD! WILL YOU JUST KISS ALREADY?!" Benji throws his arms up in exasperation, closing the front door with a loud thump behind him.

You both try to hold in your laughter and keep a straight face, but Sam's laughter echos loud and clear. You peak over and see Benji ducking down from the window.

Keeping your platonic facade going, you both give an exaggerated firm hand shake. You can feel the intense laser focus stare coming at you from the windows again.

"Goodnight, ol' chum. Let me know when you get home safe, please."

He gives you a salute and you go to turn the doorknob but nothing happens. You shake it and push against the door.

"Locked you out?"

"Yuuup," you pull your phone out and pull up your bank app. Nodding to yourself, "Yup, okay. Bucky, break the window."

"..What?"

"Break the window," you point to the pane of glass, more specifically the one you know the watch guard was staring out of behind the sheer curtain.

"What??"

"I'm going to pay for it, come on."

He stares at you like you've grown an extra head.

"Fine, we can use the spare key if you wanna be all boring about it. I'm going to need a boost," you step closer to the edge of the porch, looking up at the roof covering the porch.

"A boost?"

"What? You think we keep our spare key under the mat like a bunch of fools?"

"Or, hear me out..." He reasons, "You call Nora and you can use the door without the need to scale your roof or smash in a window."

"Booo," you pout up at him.

"There is another option..." he steps closer.

"I'm listening..."

He gives a subtle nod to the door where no doubt you can still feel a pair of eyes burning into your head through the window.

"Aw man, but then the tiny tyrant will win."

"Does it still count if you kiss this guy?" He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a Ziploc bag, holding up the "Bucky" gingerbread man Benji decorated.

"Oh my god," you laugh and swat the cookie away from your face.

"Fine, I'll put him back with the missus," he lifts up another Ziploc bag high enough so you can see the colorful "hair" frosting peak out of the pocket signalling he also has your gingerbread person in there and tucks both back into the pocket.

"Unbelievable, do you have the building in there too?"

He grabs your right hand and pulls you in closer, wrapping your arm around his neck. "Nah, left that for the next confectionery nuptials."

You shake your head with a laugh and bring your other arm around his neck.

"Thanks for dealing with us, once again," you smile up at him.

"Phoebe was a nice addition this time. Do you get to see her often?"

"Just the occasional family gathering and birthdays. Definitely not often enough. I'm sure Andy would be more than willing to pawn her off for a night or two if asked. She's just as mischievous as Benji though. Her mischief is more animal based. Her teachers call her a Disney princess because she tries to befriend every animal she sees. She also tries luring many squirrels and wild life into their house."

"Yikes," he laughs.

"Ride's here, Buck!" Sam announces while helping Sarah and the boys get in.

He gently grabs your waist with his vibranium hand and brings his right hand up your neck, moving to cradle the back of your head. You see a bright flash of light come from the window and before you can investigate further Bucky quickly dips you backwards while giving you a sweet and tender kiss. Your grip tightens around him, giggling in surprise.

"I want a copy of that," Bucky points towards the door when he lifts you back up.

"Copy of what?" You ask, a little dazed still.

Benji cracks open the door with Nora's camera in hand, "We have a ring doorbell too. I'll send the video link with it."

"Excellent, thanks. Goodnight, Doll." He smirks and gives you another quick kiss before turning to meet up with the waiting taxi.

-----

The next day you receive a text:

'This is getting framed.'

Attached was a picture of Benji's Christmas card stuck to Bucky's refrigerator by a magnet.

Sorry for the long wait! You rush a miracle, you get rotten miracles. If you'd like to see more, send me your ideas. 😉

Dividers I believe were from @firefly-graphics

Next: Part 6 I Caught Fire

Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @bitchy-bi-trash @random-writer-23 @jvanilly @clintsupremacy @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @firstcashheroathlete @stany0url0calwh0res111 @sjsmith56 @eliwinchester99 @tbhidkbutok @babymady @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @its-daydreamer23 @capswife @thecubanator2 @wintermunsonreads @buckybarnessimpp @moon-light1928 @emily-roberts @jeanbarton @lottiehernandez @tellenically @trixxietat @imdoingbetternow @maximoffrogersslut @samsgirl93 @lovebittenbyevans @inwhichiramble @jbuckybarnesfan @daemonslittlebitch @marvel88 @spiderman-stilinski @marvelfreakgirl @tinkerbelle67 @assassinscross @foolishwaitersblog @jasminex12 @buckysbaby-doll @kilikina34512 @rintheemolion @themorningsunshine @saranghaey @je-suis-prest-rachel @alovecraft @openup-yourmind  @alicedopey @ilovetaquitosmmmm @sebbystanlover-vk @s0upm1x @ivorycrow19 @songoficecreamandfireworks

[darandomstrawberry]

Isn’t Charles Leclerc staying loyal to Ferrari when they fail him time and time again not just the definition of the sunk-cost fallacy?

As someone who only really got into F1 at the start of the year, I like Charles because I saw he was a good driver and I want him to get a WDC. However, I am not a Ferrari fan because all they have proven is that they are an incompetent team that is stuck rooted in the tradition of failing their drivers. Maybe Ferrari has improved over the years but since I started being a Charles fan I have always wanted him to switch. If Ferrari is intent of screwing over Charles’ career then screw them, yeah?

Charles is loyal to Ferrari, it’s basically his family. He doesn’t have the longest running Ferrari contract for nothing. He stays loyal even when his races are ruined by bad strategy for years. It seems it’s gotten to the point where he’s spent his whole life trying to be il Predestinato, that if he gave up now it would have been all for nothing. Years of his career may have been in a way wasted. It would be especially so, if he left now and then Lewis switches and wins, though if Charles isn’t being supported at the moment than it’s unlikely he wouldn’t be favoured next year.

If Charles left he would be gambling with his career, yes, but that’s already what he is doing. The sunk-cost fallacy is often used in reference to gambling. Charles is gambling his career on the hope that Ferrari will one day, well, stop being Ferrari.

I haven’t been a Red Bull fan since back when Ricciardo was still driving for them, but Tumblr has made me change my mind a bit over the last year. While I may not like everything about the leadership and culture of the team, there’s no denying that they are still a great team even without the fastest car and (sorry mum and dad but) Tumblr has made me like Max. I know it is incredibly unlikely for Charles to switch mid season and take Checo’s seat but is it so bad to want it to happen? I just want the man back in the points again. Charles and Max seem to get along well and can put on track differences aside, only really rate each other, and plus Red Bull has literally defended Charles before. Charles had been doing well with Ferrari during the end of 2023 and the start of this year, and obviously we cannot ignore how incredible him finally winning Monaco was. I couldn’t sleep until I’d gotten confirmation that Monaco finally loved him back, but looking at the team’s record as a whole, it kinda looks like a fluke.

Is Lestappen gate becoming a real thing as unlikely as Ferrari not being Ferrari anymore? Yes. But both options require an unrealistic amount of hope so I will wish for my Lestappen teammates.

I’ve seen the Charles Ferrari depression memes a lot over the year and these last few races make it seem like Charles is at the end of his rope with the team. All I want as a Charles fan is that he makes the decision that will give him success.

Forza Charles Leclerc but maybe not Forza Ferrari Sempre.

[barren-heart]

Did Harvey just reveal Guillermo’s season 6 ending?

Critics Choice Awards, Deadline. 2024.

S6 speculation below:

…I think the best thing I can take from playing Guillermo De la Cruz is it's never too late to find yourself. It's never too late to be reborn and to reinvent yourself. And there’s no ticking time bomb expiration date to anyone of us to what our dreams and hopes can come true…Well,we start where we left off, and sometimes dreams and aspirations don't turn out the way we want them to...but I think that that's the whole point of rebirth,right? It's like a renaissance. It's happening again. And you take a new direction, new ideas, a new approach. So I'm really excited for the audience to see a new layer to Guillermo.

These are the key words from Harvey’s interview:

1. it's never too late to find yourself

2. Reborn

3. Reinvent

4. Ticking time bomb

5. Expiration date

6. Rebirth

7. Renaissance

8. Happening again

9. New layer

There’s a lot of references to reinvention and rebirth as well as time and hopes and dreams.

We know that Guillermo’s dream of being a vampire ended in season 5 when he learned that he couldn’t go through with killing humans.

There’s a stress of new ideas and directions, which sounds like Guillermo’s ending will not be any of the things he has been already: familiar, bodyguard, slayer, vampire.There’s going to be a new direction for Guillermo that he possibly hasn’t considered.

There’s a huge focus on time and rebirth, Harvey points out this message several times in the interview. He repeats and emphasizes reinvention and renaissance. Almost like being born again.

And the show has accomplished something like what Harvey has mentioned. Something that is technically not a new idea at all. And that’s energy vampires.

Energy Vampires life expectancies are a ticking time bomb. They have an expiration date. They live only for 100 years. And on that 100th birthday, they expire.

Except, they don’t expire. They give birth to a baby version of themselves and are basically born again or undergo a rebirth.

A storyline that was hinted at by not yet fully explored is the creation of the energy vampire. We know how they die and how their life cycles begin again, but we don’t know how they are made.

And I believe this is the season we find out. And Colin will help Guillermo by helping him turn.

I revisited some parts of season 5 when I considered this. Namely:

1. Guillermo’s inability to kill

2. That he didn’t want to say goodbye to his mom

3. That he said he still wanted to be a vampire

Becoming an energy vampire solves all three.

Guillermo can still see his mom without the threat of her killing him. He also doesn’t have to feed on humans in the traditional way, namely he doesn’t need to kill. And this way he will live forever, even though he will die every 100 years.

I get how this may not be what we want or expect. I, probably like you, want to see Nandor sink his teeth into Guillermo more than anything. But I don’t think they want to give us that…at least not easily.

I do have a full theory on how we get to have Nandor turn Guillermo. But I will make that into its own separate post.

[softtdaisy]

🌲 new year kisses l mick schumacher

summary. mick has been your new year kiss for years. what happens the day he met someone new?

words count. 2,119

a/n. i honestly don't really know what to think about this one?? I really hope you will love it🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

The stars were shining, the music was loud, the people were screaming. No doubt, you were at the annual New Year’s party at your friends’ house.

It has become a tradition now. They were doing this in a rooftop apartment in Berlin, it felt out of the world and time. Maybe that was the whole point of this party, finally. To live a life you weren’t used to, act differently and do what you were scared of most of the time. It was refreshing to end the year like this. Both for you and for Mick. 

Because they were his friends, first. He was the one who brought you here, right when you started becoming friends. He wanted to share this moment with you. There were still a few things beating the feeling he had when he came here every year. This feeling of putting his issues and fear at the door and just living the beautiful life he was supposed to have. 

“How come I’m still amazed by this place every year?” Mick asked, taking off your coat. You turned around to answer him, telling him that you were feeling exactly the same. But you got lost in his blue eyes. In magnificent, perfect eyes that were undressing you. You may have cheated a little, wearing the silver dress you knew he loved on you, to get this exact look from him.

You went with him at the end of the season party a few weeks ago, wearing this same dress. You could never forget Mick, being completely drunk, whispering in your ear “being around you is like a little death.” And if you thought for a second that, maybe, he didn’t realize the meaning behind the expression, the wink he gave you and the way his hand fell slowly at the end of your back were enough to prove to you he knew.

You put a hand on his arm. “I told you,” you finally replied, “it’s magic.” You gave him the biggest smile, trying to save him from his thoughts. And yours, too. Coming back here was like letting your feelings come back again too. These two things seem to go together.

And while Mick took your hand to bring you inside, you chose to put all of this aside. Waiting for the moment that you knew would happen later. The one that would wreck your mind again. Like every year.

“Here comes the couple!” you heard your friends say. You rolled your eyes while Mick laughed, bringing you even closer to him. You felt his lips on your hair, the kind of kiss you were always craving for. It was easy to play around the idea of you being together. It wasn’t the case. It has never been. 

When you met Mick, there was an evident chemistry and attraction between you. Everybody saw it to the point some drivers assumed you were his girlfriend the first time you went to a Grand Prix weekend.

But that was the sad part. You weren’t. Because you were both seeing different people at that time.

During the first months of your new friendship, you grow closer, dealing with your attraction for each other without doing anything that could hurt your partner. Some moments were harder than others. Mick’s arms have become your safe place and some parts of you hated that nothing could ever beat this feeling. And you knew for sure that you were the only one that could calm his anxiety. 

Maybe these things were part of the reasons you both ended up single before your first friendship anniversary. The thing was, if you were close before, you were even closer now that there were no “other people”. You slept together in the same bed naturally and way too often for just friends. Nothing ever happened, except for some kisses and hugs that lasted longer than they should. But the way he was caressing your hair when your face fell naturally on his chest, the way he would whisper sweet words to your ears while you were playing with the line on his chest. These weren’t things friends should no.

You both knew it.

You were both too scared of what could happen if you decided to speak up.

It was easy as long as none of you found someone to spend their life with.

“What are you looking for?” you asked Mick. You noticed how he seemed to search for something right when you walked inside. You frowned, looking at the same place he did to understand what he could have been searching. It didn’t make sense. You just arrived.

You saw his cheek turning red before he turned his head to you. “Where we kissed last year.”

You rolled your eyes to hide your shyness. He didn’t need to remind you what happens every year here. You perfectly remember that.

It has become some kind of tradition over the years. It started at your first New Year together. 

You were both newly single, ready to drink to forget and enjoy the night with your favorite friend. And you did have fun. Dancing so much you had stiffness. Singing so loud you lose your voice.

So closed you ended up kissing each other at midnight like it was the most natural thing to do.

You didn’t question it that night. The feeling of Mick’s soft lips on yours, his hands lost everywhere on your body and his smile, oh that smile, pressing against yours was so magic that you didn’t want to know if it was right or wrong. It didn’t matter as long as you appreciated the moment.

You barely ever talked about it. Just saying that it was a fun and nice thing to do and complimenting each other on your kissing competences. But it didn’t mean a thing.

Right?

And it was perfectly fine that it happened again every time. It was the only moment you could think that maybe this new year would be the one where you would finally confess your feelings and try something together.

In the end it always ended up the same: Mick got so focused on his career that he didn’t want to start a relationship and your own job prevented you from traveling as much as you would. Each time you saw each other you got closer but without ever crossing the couple line. It was an eternal circle you weren’t sure would end one day.

“Ten!” 

You turned around, noticing all your friends started the countdown already. How could you not even see it was finally midnight? You put your champagne glass on the counter, watching everyone running to the living room.

“Nine!”

You laughed nicely at the couple who just left the bathroom in a hurry, clearly stopping what they were doing to be with their friends. It reminded you of your thir New Year you spent with Mick. For some reason, you managed to get locked in the bathroom together. You freaked out first, sad that you won’t be with everybody else for that moment. But then you started laughing at the situation. In the end, it wasn’t that bad that nobody could see you kiss at midnight, again this year. 

It was the first time you wondered if maybe this could be more than just an ambiguous friendship.

“Eight!”

Thinking about Mick didn’t bring him to you. You looked around, confused. You can’t lose a tall blonde man like him, it’s impossible. But you couldn’t see him anywhere, not even when you joined all your friends.

“Seven! Six!”

You asked around if they saw Mick. Some of them ignored you, deliberately or not, some laughed, thinking it was some kind of joke. How would they know if you don’t? You were the one supposed to be with your best friend. So focused on your search, you didn’t notice some of their looks on you. Meaningful. Quite sad, too.

“Five!” 

You had a hard time finding your way to the other room, they were all so close to each other they were like a big whole person. Maybe it was a sign from the universe that you should go further. That you should stop before the disaster.

“Four! Three!”

You finally saw Mick, on the balcony. You were wondering why he was there? Why would he be outside by himself? You walked to the door, ready to join him.

“Two!” 

Before you opened the door, you saw him laugh. Then you saw her.

“One!”

You watched silently, incapable of moving, while he grabbed her face between his hands.

“Happy new year!”

Or was it, really?

Could it be a good year when it starts with the man you’re so deeply and secretly in love kissing another woman in front of you? What hurts, was that it hit so close. She looked just like you and you felt like a watcher, looking at your relationship with Mick. The way he always kissed you with his hands on your face like that so his thumbs could caress your skin, how he would always smile against your lips, how his whole body was reacting to the kiss.

Expect it wasn’t you. Not this time.

You kept watching them. Hoping that maybe you were dreaming. That it wasn’t Mick. 

But the truth was there. It felt like a hole in your heart, one that kept growing each second that passed. You felt selfish. Feeling this bad when all Mick did was finding someone new. When you were too scared to confess your own feelings.

It wasn’t until your friends started to come over you, screaming and singing like you were supposed to, that you realized it wasn’t fair. Neither to you, to keep getting your heart broken because you couldn’t take your eyes out of them. Or to Mick, to expect him to wait for your strength to show up and not try to find love again until then.

“Happy new year!” you heard them and you let them take you away in their happiness, pretending you were fine. And maybe the drinks and the music helped you forget for another hour what has just happened. You just pretended everything was just fine and since you still haven’t seen Mick, you could act like it was just a lie. Maybe, in another universe, he wasn’t even there and didn’t ruin you without meaning it.

It was almost 2 when you saw Mick again. Someone had spilled their drink on you by accident and you were now looking for a sweatshirt in whoever room you were in. You heard the door opened in your back and assumed it was the bed’s owner that was just checking you weren’t making a mess. Which you could have done, since you were shaking from how you were with your wet dress. 

But it wasn’t. “Honey, you’re here!”

You almost stumbled from the chair you used to have access to the top of the wardroom. Mick noticed, rushing to put his hands on your waist to catch you. “That would be a pretty bad way to start the year with broken bones.” He laughed and for a few more seconds, you put aside all that happened earlier. Just enjoying this feeling of being in his arms, again. 

Then the truth hit you when you saw the lipstick marks. On his lips, on his cheek. Even on the collar of his shirt.

Mick had found someone to kiss tonight. And it wasn’t you.

“Someone had fun, I see.” you tried to sound as light-hearted as possible, not letting any sad feelings appear in your voice. But considering how drunk Mick looked, he probably wouldn’t even notice. 

The huge smile that drew on his face the moment you talked about that let you know you were right. He had no idea what was going on in your head. “I have so much to tell you! She gave me her number, I’m seeing her again to see if we can make this work out somehow.” He looked so happy, almost jumping around like a kid on christmas day. You didn’t have the heart to break his happiness with your sadness. 

So you put your hands on his face and give him a light kiss on the forehead. “I’m so happy for you Mick. You deserve this.” You didn’t need to find any excuse for the tears in your eyes. He started to hug you tight against him before he even got the time to see them. 

This is what you get for being too scared of speaking in fear of losing the man you love.

You end up losing him anyway to another woman.