#I think? it’s been a while since I’ve watched it

[81pastrys]

He’s Married?!

Summary— Oscar brings a baby to track and hides the fact it’s his while his wife deems they should tell the world about them

Warnings— secret relationship ; secret baby

A/N— I started writing this and went off-topic but I kept going and couldn’t stop myself 😭 (streamer is sort of like this as well just Lando based)

Oscar One Shots

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Request— hihi, if possible could you do a oscar piatri fic, in which he married young and forgot to mention it, and the grid finds out (ive read a few fics with this plotline and im in love) -🤍 @fctnllvrs

Oscar was very closed off, meaning absolutely no one expected him to arrive at the paddock with a baby carrier. He doesn’t even have a girlfriend or hookups or even a wife?!

“Mate who got you baby sitting on media day?” Lando joked lightheartedly. Oscar flushed a pink color and laughed it off.

“Not too good of an idea, huh?” He joined Lando’s banter hoping to ward off the ‘it’s actually my kid and I’ve been married since F2’ conversation.

Oscar went about his day, holding the little boy and doing his duties while simultaneously keeping up with the infants needs.

His wife insisted he take the boy for the day, she needed to catch up at home and it was the Australian Grand Prix. Oscar’s mum insisted she stay behind and help with organizing and cleaning up the house with Oscar’s wife.

The reporters were intrigued and asked him questions as well. “Who’s this little one?” Lawrence Baretto asked. Oscar smiled and held his baby boy to show the camera.

“This is Arlo.” Oscar said before returning his son to his chest where the baby sighed contentedly into him. No more questions followed but media had their suspicions.

Socials were no help at all to any fans or media stalkers, Oscar and his wife kept a low private social life. They never officially announced their wedding nor first born anywhere other than texts between families.

Oscar returned to his driver room and started getting Arlo ready for a nap, meaning changing the little boys diaper. If there was one thing the baby absolutely despised, it was getting changed.

There were loud cries and screams as Oscar did so, trying to keep the boy calm. “Such big feelings little man, it’s okay.” He soothed, rubbing the boys tummy when he was done. “Shhh daddy’s got you, it’s alright.” Now that Arlo was dressed and back on Oscar chest, he was calm and no longer a screaming, crying mess.

Oscar did slip up and call himself daddy though, hoping the scream died that out. Until Lando walked in quietly, shutting the door behind him. His face of pure shock and disbelief.

“Sorry, just trying to get him to sleep for a little.” Oscar said quietly with a few nods. Lando’s face softened at the little boy droopy eyed on Oscar’s chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” Lando whisper yelled, stirring the little one. “I’m sorry little man.” He apologized looking to Arlo after he flinched at Lando’s little shouting.

“Tell you what?” Oscar asked, puzzled. He didn’t realize Lando walked in on him saying ‘daddy’s got you’ so he’s left out of the loop.

“That Arlo is yours! Mate do you even have a girlfriend?” Lando asked, still quiet as for no one else to hear. “Oscar this is fucking huge! You’ve been flaunting him all day too.”

“Language and no I don’t have a girlfriend.” Oscar said to build suspense. Lando looked stressed at that comment. “I have a wife, who was overwhelmed at the mess from looking over him 24/7.” He smiled watching Lando relax.

“God mate you’re insane, how long?” Lando chuckled. He looked to Arlo as a nephew now, the sweet little boy sleeping on Oscar’s chest now a part of the McLaren family.

“4 years next month.” Oscar said looking as if he had to think about it. “Yes, I know. I don’t regret marrying her though.” Lando softened, why had Oscar kept this all a secret for so long?

“Secrets safe with me, but media is going to start speculating little Arlo here.” Lando reminded. Oscar nodded. He knew the risks and felt there wasn’t much need to hide it all anymore.

The day was done and Oscar went home to his wife and mum, a tidy home with barely any evidence that a newborn had taken over.

“How was track today? Was Arlo good?” His wife asked, scooping the newborn from his carrier. Arlo immediately relaxed in his mums hold.

“Good, I mean media is on my ass and Lando knows about us.” Oscar said casually. She hadn’t cared much about keeping it all a secret but she also didn’t want to push Oscar into it. “I was getting Arlo ready for a nap, you know how he is and when I went to calm him down Lando heard me call myself daddy so.” He laughed.

“He won’t tell anyone?” She asked, curious on Lando’s secrecy on things. “I know you trust him.”

“Yeah I mean I don’t see any threats of him just blatantly saying it or anything, it’s only a matter time people find out.” Oscar shrugged.

“Well if you want to do it before he accidentally does, we have hospital or maternity photos you could post.” She smiled, slightly joking. Oscar smiled with her and kissed her head.

“The house looks amazing by the way, you and mum did a good job tidying up.” He praised the cleanliness of the house that was once a mess. “I’ll send some pictures over to my media manager to post tomorrow before practice.”

She was going to be present for the race, but not the extras before. Arlo would not fare well with the long hours of sitting around in an unfamiliar place with loud noises.

Like Oscar said, scheduled posts from the hospital were posted the next day before he arrived at track. Him, his wife, and baby Arlo in their arms while cozied in a hospital bed widespread like wild fire.

Questions galore from reporters, congratulations from other drivers and shock from finding out the last 5 years were kept secret. Headliners read ‘Find out which McLaren driver kept wife and child under wraps for nearly 5 years’ or ‘Papaya driver released surprising post of family’ insanity flooded his phone.

The race day was even more overwhelming, fans and reporters hounding on his wife and Arlo now. Oscar was not having that. “Give them space, back up!” He said annoyed at the proximity of the people. His wife found a comfortable place in the garage where no one would bother her too much and Oscar checked in on her.

“We’re fine Osc, go do your McLaren stuff!” His wife insisted. She knew he had lots to do before a race, but he only seemed concerned on her and Arlo.

“Can I hold him before I have to go out?” Oscar asked. It was 30 minutes until he had to be in his car. She nodded and handed the boy over. “Such a sweet, loving boy.” He cooed. “I’m going to win my home race, just for you and Mama.” He whispered. He kissed the baby’s forehead and handed him back. He gave his wife a kiss as well and headed to his car on the grid.

I’m just getting over a sinus infection so apologies for being inactive.

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @kallanfiona @chertik-007vvv (its Kinda dad Oscar)

[harrysfolklore]

red - cs55

summary: carlos is dating a singer who's 9 years younger than him, and it's all good until it isn't

folkie radio: okay guys i know that summary is so bad but this is basically inspired by red by taylor and i hope you like it 😭

MASTERLIST | PATREON

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yourinstagram mi corazon ❤️ @/carlossainz55

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username1 HELLO??

username2 WHATS GOING ON

popbase BREAKING: Pop sensation YN (20) confirms relationship with Formula 1 driver Carlos Sainz (29)

carlossainz55 Mi vida 🤍 Finally sharing you with the world

oliviarodrigo this is so cute! happy for you lovie 🥺❤️

username3 the ferrari jacket while recording SHES INSANE FOR THAT

lando about time you two went public! was tired of pretending i didn't know 😂

username4 her new boyfriend is an F1 driver??? THE POWER THIS HOLDS

sabrinacarpenter the way you've been glowing lately makes so much sense now 😍

username5 Carlos Sainz and YN?? We're living in a simulation 😭

username6 age gap discussion incoming in 3...2...1...

charles_leclerc Finally! No more hiding in Monaco 😂

username7 nine year age gap... thoughts? 🤔

taylorswift This makes me so happy! ❤️ Can't wait for you both to come over again!

username8 isn’t he a bit old for her?

username9 young popstar dating an older guy? i think i’ve seen this film before

username10 I LOVE THIS

username11 THE THIRD PIC HAS SUCH AURA

username12 this could be the ultimate power couple or a complete mess

liked by username1, username2 and 28,936 others

f1gossip🚨 Pop star YN supporting boyfriend Carlos Sainz at the Spanish GP! This marks her first public appearance in the paddock since confirming their relationship last week.

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username1 I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

username2 Carlos is literally 29 dating a 20 year old. I'm sorry but that's weird 🚩

username3 they look so happy! she fits right in with the ferrari family

username4 the way charles and alex have basically adopted her already

username4 not sure how I feel about this... she's barely out of her teens and he's almost 30?

username5 IM LIVING FOR THIS

username6 here's why this relationship is problematic: [thread]

username7 can we talk about how she's handling herself so professionally despite all the hate? queen behavior

username8 she's an adult who can make her own choices. stop infantilizing successful women.

username9 the paddock dynamics about to get interesting 👀

username10 BEST WAG ALREADY

username11 not trying to hate but 9 years is a big gap at that age...

username12 charles treating her like a little sister is everything

username13 age gap discourse aside, they actually look really good together

username14 anyone else notice how all the drivers seem to already know her? must've been dating longer than we thought

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popbase 🎤 F1 driver Carlos Sainz supporting girlfriend YN at her sold-out Madrid concert! She even changed some lyrics to reference their relationship 👀

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username1 carlos in boyfriend era is everything we needed

username2 not charles and alex being the ultimate supportive friends 🥺

username3 the security had to stop fans from taking photos of Carlos instead of watching the show 💀

username4 LOOK AT HIM BEING SO PROUD OF HER

username5 YN’s "Spanish nights" lyric change already trending on TikTok

username6 still weird seeing a 20yo performing for her 29yo boyfriend but go off I guess

username7 first she comes to his races, now he's at her concerts. COUPLE OF THE CENTURY

username8 "And all my Spanish nights are better with you" HELLO??? THE LYRICS???

username9 he looks at her like she hung the moon and stars 😭

username10 the age gap comments getting real old. they're obviously happy together

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yourinstagram 21 🤍 thank you for all the birthday wishes x

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username1 BIRTHDAY ICON

popbase YN celebrates 21st birthday with star-studded party in London. Notable absence: boyfriend Carlos Sainz.

username2 sometimes i forget that she’s still so young

alexandrasaintmleux You looked beautiful birthday girl ❤️ Love you x

username3 carlos was posting from madrid while yn celebrated in london... trouble in paradise?

username4 something's off... she usually writes longer captions

charles_leclerc Happy birthday pequeña! You deserve the world

username5 he was having dinner with friends in Madrid instead of being at his girlfriend's birthday??? 🚩🚩🚩

oliviarodrigo ily birthday girl! your 21st year is gonna be amazing 🤍

madisonbeer HAPPY BIRTHDAY GORGEOUS 🥹

username6 please tell me they didn't break up

username7 maybe he had commitments in madrid? stop assuming things

username8 age gap strikes again? 👀

username9 no carlos, no "te quiero" caption, no couple photos... something definitely happened

username10 CARLOS WTF DID YOU DO

username11 we knew this relationship was not going to last tbh

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TMZ EXCLUSIVE: F1 Star Carlos Sainz Missing from Girlfriend's 21st Birthday - Full Story

TROUBLE IN PARADISE? F1 STAR CARLOS SAINZ SKIPS GIRLFRIEND YN'S 21ST BIRTHDAY FOR BOYS' NIGHT

Pop sensation YN's star-studded 21st birthday celebration in London had everything - except her boyfriend. Formula 1 star Carlos Sainz (29) was noticeably absent from the festivities, instead posting Instagram stories of a dinner with friends in Madrid.

Multiple sources tell TMZ that Sainz COMPLETELY FORGOT about his girlfriend's birthday, leading to what insiders describe as a "major relationship crisis."

"He was posting stories and having fun in Madrid while YN was literally crying at her own party," reveals a source close to the singer. "Everyone was asking where he was, and she kept making excuses until she couldn't anymore."

The party, held at an exclusive London venue, was attended by music industry heavyweights and even several F1 drivers, including Sainz's teammate Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra Saint Mleux, making the Ferrari driver's absence even more conspicuous.

Another source tells us that Sainz realized his mistake late in the evening when he saw social media posts about the party. "He immediately tried to damage control, but the damage was done. YN was devastated."

The 9-year age gap between the couple, which has been a topic of discussion since they went public with their relationship, is now being scrutinized again. "This is exactly what everyone was worried about," says our insider. "She's turning 21, and he's out there forgetting her birthday completely."

YN's team has not responded to our request for comment. A representative for Sainz said they "do not comment on personal matters."

Got a story or a tip for us? Email TMZNews@tmz.com

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carlossainz55 Sometimes the biggest mistakes lead to the strongest promises. Te quiero más que nada en este mundo, mi vida. Forever making it up to you. ❤️

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username1 I CANT DO THIS

yourinstagram i love you more 🤍

username2 this is so..

alexandrasaintmleux My heart 🥺

lando back to being disgustingly cute I see

username3 THE WAY I CAN BREATHE AGAIN

username4 they're good y'all

username5 Carlos Sainz redemption arc starting strong

username6 not me crying over that caption

username7 well that was a quick resolution

username8 I'm still mad at him but this is cute

username9 NOT THE DAMAGE CONTROL POST OMFGGGGG

username10 this is gold

liked by username1, username2 and 39,378 others

gossiphub🚨 DRAMA ALERT: YN and Carlos Sainz in heated argument outside Mayfair club. Sources say tension arose after Carlos "got too protective" over other guys approaching YN inside. 👀

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username1 the way she stormed off... this isn't just about tonight

username2 he looks jealous af... carlos baby what are you doing

username3 anyone else notice this is the same club where her ex was spotted earlier? 👀

paddockgossip YN seen arriving at her apartment alone. Carlos reportedly went to Charles' place

username4 this man rly thought he could control a 21yo in her party era 💀

username5 age gap issues showing... she wants to party, he's in his settled era

username6 y'all don't know the full story, stop assuming

username7 she's literally crying... carlos better have a good explanation

username8 not me remembering all those "controlling boyfriend" blind items...

username9 WHAT IS HAPPENING

username10 this is why drivers usually date within the F1 bubble tbh

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liked by theweeknd, carlossainz55 and 2,796,554 others

yourinstagram singapore lights hit different when they're shining on you @/carlossainz55 ❤️ so proud of you mi amor. p.s. champagne is not good for silk dresses but worth it x

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username1 MY HEART

carlossainz55 The best lucky charm. Te quiero mi vida ❤️

charles_leclerc Get a room you two 🙄

lando mate was more excited to see you than the trophy

username2 THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME

lewishamilton Beautiful moment you two ❤️

username3 remember when we thought they were breaking up after the club incident? now look at them 🥺

username4 The Valentino dress with Ferrari red heels >>>>>

tmz YN and Carlos Sainz silence breakup rumors with stunning Singapore display

username5 he way the whole team loves them together

username6 AND YALL THOUGHT THEY WERE OVER

username7 age gap will always be a red flag

username8 THE FERRARI QUEEN

username9 CARLOS REALLY DID THAT

username10 ahhh im so happy she was there for his win

liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,766,380 others

carlossainz55 Ending the year exactly where I want to be. Starting the new one exactly who I want to be with. 2024 ya estamos aquí mi vida @/yourintagram ❤️

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username1 I LOVE ONE COUPLE

yourinstagram forever mi amor ❤️

username2 YN choosing family dinner in Madrid over Hollywood NYE parties... we love this growth

username3 they could never make me hate them

scuderiaferarri 🤍

username4 carlos is turning 30 this wear which makes the age gap weirder

username5 YN3 is going to be full of love songs

username6 HES SO IN LOVE

landonorris My parents

username7 the way yn is literally younger than lando😭

username8 cuteee

username9 THEY'RE NOT BREAKING UP WE WON

username10 this is my family

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replies:

username1 THE RELIEF I JUST FELT

username2 y'all really had us scared for a minute 😭

username3 deuxmoi being wrong again what's new

username4 but what about the suitcases? 👀

username5 she's moving in with him besties, those weren't breakup suitcases

username6 idk something feels off... remember how she denied the club fight?

username7 the way she always defends him... giving Stockholm syndrome

usernamd8 she's literally trauma bonded, we saw how he acts in public

username9 STOP projecting your issues onto them omg

username10 Carlos: *breathes*

Y'all: RED FLAG RED FLAG

username11 notice how she didn't deny the "trouble in paradise" part 🤔

username12 defending toxic behavior again... girl we're trying to help you

username13 some of y'all need therapy instead of projecting onto celebs fr

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yourinstagram some of my favorite memories will always be in red ❤️ but it's not the color i fell in love with, it's you @/carlossainz55. so proud of everything you've achieved and everything that's coming next. you'll always be my champion, no matter the suit 🤍 ps: i'm keeping the jacket.

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username1 IM CRYING

username2 i can’t believe carlos is leaving ferrari

carlossainz55 Mi vida, siempre ❤️ (and that's MY jacket 😤)

scuderiaferarri Once Ferrari Family, always Ferrari Family ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux the way I'm crying rn

username3 SOBBING. THE MEMORIES. THE JACKET. THE EVERYTHING.

username4 "not the color i fell in love with" STOP I'M CRYING

username5 CANT BELIEVE YN WONT BE A FERRARI WAG ANYMORE

username6 imagine yn in mercedes fits tho

username7 AND SOME OF YALL SAID THEY WERE BREAKING UP

username8 she’ll always be THEE ferrari girl

username9 this caption is so beautiful

username10 THIS COUPLE IS MY LIFE

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replies:

username1 the way he JUST posted about their anniversary two weeks ago???

username2 remember when he said "age is just a number when you find your soulmate" in that ferrari interview... aged like milk

username3 let's not jump to conclusions maybe-

username4 he fumbled THE BAG. she literally moved countries for him???

username5 imagine throwing away 2 years because you're having a midlife crisis

username6 I DONT BELIEVE THIS

username7 nah this is fake

username8 how many times people have said that they're over but turns out they're not tho

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liked by username1, username2 and 17,027 others

tmz YN steps out for the first time since breakup with Carlos Sainz news broke

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username1 LEAVE HER ALONE

username2 disgusting how they chased her down just to get pics of her crying. she can't even process her breakup in peace

username3 if you're sharing those photos you're getting blocked. respect her privacy

username4 my heart breaks for her. these 'photographers' are vultures.

lando Proper shameful this. Let her be.

username1 OMFG LANDO

username5 maybe if carlos hadn't dumped her by TEXT she wouldn't be crying in parking lots

username6 she doesn't deserve this. no one does.

username7 To any media outlets - we will report and block any accounts sharing these photos.

username8 yall SUCK

username9 i hope you're ready for that lawsuit

liked by oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,836,944 others

yourinstagram healing sounds different for everyone. for me, it's always been putting pain into poetry and turning heartbreak into harmony. taking some time away to write my truth into existence. thank you for understanding 🤍

p.s. no, none of them are "nice" songs

[comments turned off]

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dailymail SPOTTED: Carlos Sainz with Scottish model Rebecca Donaldson. Sources say they've been "quietly seeing each other" for a month. Apparently met through mutual friends... 👀

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username1 a MODEL?? this man really said "you're too young" to yn and then- i can't.

username2 respectfully deleting my carlos fan account. yn deserved better.

username3 "i need time to focus on racing" yeah focusing real hard i see

username4 the way he's trying to recreate his old relationship but with a "socially acceptable" age gap... embarrassing

username5 LEAVE HIM ALONE

username6 man poor yn

username7 he’s innocent idc

username8 OH CARLOS SAINZ GET READY FOR THOSE BREAKUP SONGS

username9 i always knew he was trash

username10 IM ON HIS SIDE IDC

liked by harrystyles, arianagrande and 3,749,886 others

yourinstagram RED.

13 tracks of what happens when you love someone scarlet and they leave you burgundy.

october 22.

produced by @/jackantonoff

available for pre-save now.

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username1 OMFG

username2 SHES COMING

charles_leclerc track 9 🎹🖤

↳ username1 IF CHARLES PLAYS THE PIANO I’LL DIE

oliviarodrigo screaming crying throwing up this is gonna be INSANE

lewishamilton Already pre-saved 🙏🏾

username3 CURRENTLY SHAKING AND CRYING IN MY LIVING ROOM

username4 charles really said "let me help end this man's whole career" with track 9

username5 not me calculating that track 5 is 10 MINUTES LONG... carlos better move countries

username6 she’s coming for BLOOD

username7 RED??? FERRARI RED

username8 NOT EVEN CARLOS’ FRIENDS ARE ON HIS SIDE

username9 album of the year already

username10 red bc carlos is a red flag so true

username11 this cover EATS

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yourinstagram RED. out now everywhere.

thank you for every tear that became a lyric, every memory that became a melody, and every heartbreak that became healing. special thanks to CL for the late night studio sessions, ASM for being the best friend ever and all of my collaborators for helping me bring this to life

and to the person who said i was too young to handle this life - watch me.

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username1 IM CRYNG

username2 CHARLES AND ALEX?

charles_leclerc proud of you piccolina ❤️ (track 9 was therapeutic)

alexandrasaintmleux i love you so much 💘

oliviarodrigo THE BRIDGE OF ALL TOO WELL???? actual perfection

username3 "you said if we had been closer in age maybe it would’ve been fine" ACTUAL CHILLS

username4 "i’ll get older but your lovers stay my age" SOMEBODY CHECK ON HIM

username5 charles playing piano while she sings about his best friend's betrayal... the LAYERS

spotify "All Too Well" breaks single-day streaming record

username6 THE SONG ABOUY HER 21ST BDAY HELLO??

georgerussell63 Amazing songs. You're incredible

username7 the way she ended a man's whole career while staying classy... queen behavior

username8 CHARLES PLAYING THE PIANO WAS BEAUTIFUL

username9 this is the album of the century

username10 BREAKUP ALBUM OF THE CENTURY CARLOS SAINZ YOU'RE SO OVER

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f1updates Carlos Sainz addresses YN's album 'RED' for the first time:

"Look, everyone has their version of the truth. The album is her art, her perspective. But let me be clear - I never cheated, I was honest about needing space. The age gap was a real concern. Meeting Rebecca happened after. That's my truth."

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username1 WELL

username2 not him lying AGAIN when track 11 has literal timestamps 💀

username3 this is getting uglier by the second

username4 LEAVE HIM ALONE

username5 stream red

username6 don’t care we’re all on yn’s side

username7 GASLIGHTER

username8 does he ever shut up

username9 they should be asking him questions about RACING not his ex gf

username10 this is just ridiculous

liked by oliviarodrigo, landonorris and 2,874,378 others

yourinstagram one month of RED. one month of healing. one month of turning heartbreak into history.

thank you for every scream-sing to track 5, every tweet decode, every dm sharing your own story🤍

p.s. someone asked if i regret being "too honest" in the lyrics. no. some people give you their truth in press conferences, i gave mine in verses.

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username1 IM CRYING

taylorswift Proud of you ❤️ welcome to the better off club

username2 IM SO PROUD OF HER

username3 "some people give you their truth in press conferences, i gave mine in verses" HELP WHY IS SHE SO ICONIC

username4 not a single skip on this album... even carlos' new gf had to private her spotify

sabrinacarpenter watching you heal has been the best part ❤️

charles_leclerc So proud of you !

username5 SHE KEEPS COMING FOR BLOOD

username6 are you ready to die carlos sainz

alexandrasaintmleux MY FAVORITE GIRL! couldn't be prouder

username7 i think about the lyric "said i was too young i was too soft can't take a joke can't get you off" every single day

username8 SO DAMN PROUD OF HER

georgerussell63 ❤️

username9 someday she'll be everything to somebody else why carlos ages horribly

username10 SHE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME

liked by username1, username2 and 489,278 others

williamsracing We're excited to announce Carlos Sainz will be joining Williams Racing for the 2025 season onwards. Welcome to the team, @/carlossainz55 🤝

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username1 OH MY LORD

username2 THIS IS WILD

username3 WAIT. "losing him was blue like i'd never known" FROM RED... SHE KNEW

username4 going from ferrari red to williams blue... she wrote this in the album TWO MONTHS AGO

username5 remember when everyone thought the "blue" references were about sadness? Girlie was dropping CONTRACT INFO

username6 LEAVE CARLOS ALONE

username7 she really buried the contract news in a breakup album... queen behavior

username8 loving him was RED (ferrari) and losing him was BLUE (williams) i can’t do this

username9 YN YOU SICK HUMAN BEING.....

username10 none of this comments are congratulating him we're all dissecting lyrics LMAO

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gossiphub SPOTTED: YN having dinner at Monaco's Hotel de Paris with mystery man. Sources say they spent 3 hours talking and left together in his car.

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username1 THE WAY HE'S HOLDING HER HAND UNDER THE TABLE I'M-

username2 MERCEDES BOY? 👀

username3 not me zooming in on the reflection in the window... that's definitely a british accent in the video snippet

username4 THIS IS GOOD KARMA

username5 carlos unfollowed [redacted] on insta... he knows something

username6 carlos sainz was found crying

username7 IS THAT SOMEONE FROM THE PADDOCK???

username8 streets say that's another driver...

username9 she's moving on already? wow

username10 THIS IS ABOUT TO GET INTERESTING

liked by georgerussell63, sabrinacarpenter and 2,827,299

yourinstagram but on a wednesday in a cafe i watched it begin again🤍

[comments turned off]

[mushyposts]

OKAY I HAVE A STORY TO TELL.

MY BEST FRIEND FUCKING HATES THIS HANSTER. Or more specifically, she hates ME and this hamster happens to be in the crossfire.

I sent this to her for the first time at LEAST three years ago. I don’t even remember the original context, I was having a phase of sending unrelated images as reaction photos and that last one in the thread got me so bad. I spammed her saying it was important, and then sent the hamster. She got so mad at it that I made it a point to send it whenever I could just because I couldn’t understand WHY she had such a deep hatred for this lil guy who’s just cheeked up!!

Her hatred for this image has led to her having to go on actual, honest to god walks because I’d just send it for NO reason. It’s a sticker on my iPhone, it’s saved to my phone and my laptop in a special folder for easy access, I have it open on a tab at all times. I am always ready, and the rage this mad her feel was unmatched.

Now. Important thing about me. I am VERY good at the long-con. Sort of ridiculously good, actually. I have “hamstered” her three times since the time I got temporarily blocked for it. It’s important to also note that aside from me sending it nonsensically, she has 0 reason to be so knee-jerk aggressive around the hamster. Anyway. Onto the three times I’ve hamstered her in the most BRILLIANT ways.

1- I did not use the hamster for over a year. I had moments I could have, but I didn’t. She even pointed this out!! Saying “I expected hamster ass.” But I did not rise to the bait, for I knew if I waited, the result would be oh so sweet.

I travelled HOURS to meet her, I took a plane, I used a train for the first time, I LABOURED!! And finally the moment was upon us. We met for the first time in person, we hugged, we exchanged thoughtful gifts, we went back to her house so I could force her to watch the hunger games, and then my time to strike came. I said “oh I have an edit to show you!” And I brought up an edit I had made using a capcut template, the “say yes to heaven, say yes to me. I’ve got my eye on you.” And then at the “you”, hamster ass flew across the screen.

The betrayal. The rage. The horror. It was cinematic. It was BEAUTIFUL. It was beyond anything I had ever seen before in my life. I played the long con, and it paid off. “In my own house?? Under my roof??” Yes, Soap. In your home. Under your roof. My hubris is unmatched and you consistently let it go unchecked. This is a saw trap you designed, enjoy the hamster.

2- I had just gotten back into contact with a mutual friend of ours who I hadn’t spoken to in years! It had been around eight months since the amazing first-meet-hamster-ass, and I once again hadn’t used it since then. I saw my opportunity, and I took it.

I sent a photo of the hamster ass to our friend and asked him to use it when he felt the time was right, and I wish I could have seen it when the time was right. Out on the beach, I think, and he goes “hey, look at this!” And shows her the hamster ass. The confusion, the betrayal, the shock. I would give my afterlife to be a fly on a rock observing that interaction. The rage in the message she sent me was beautiful.

At some point it becomes something she brings unto herself. I don’t gain anything from the hamster but her reaction, and yet even though she fully understands this, her rage for the hamster out matches her understanding that if she stopped reacting, I’d stop hamstering.

3- now. This one took prep, and I can’t take all the credit. I got my friends sibling in on this one and we planned it for MANY weeks before. I sent a document with ten hamster asses on it, and they cut each one out, numbering them 1-10, with little witty remarks on the back of them to keep things interesting.

I distracted my friend with our homestuck re-read, such perfect planning, and her sibling hid the hamster asses around their home. Coming to the end of the call while we discussed how wild everything was, and how we always forget the crazy little details, sibling walks in.

“I got some chocolate!” “Oh! Thank you-“ the pause. The silence. THE ERUPTION OF CHAOS AND RAGE. “THERE IS SOMETHING SICK AND WRONG WITH YOU!!” The HORROR!! Shakespeare could only ever HOPE to get to the level of drama and chaos exhibited in that discord call.

Nothing, however, could match when I went, “enjoy the hamsters!” And she goes “… hamsters? Plural?” And realises that yes, indeed, the hamsters are numbered. One to ten. She had number one handed to her, and yet nine more await her, hidden in her own home.

Has she found them all, you ask?? No. No she has not. How do I know for a fact that she hasn’t? Because if she had found number 10, I would know within on second of her realising, because the shock and horror when she finds it will be completely unmatched to any horror film identity reveal. No plot twist will ever compare to how she will react to number ten.

Anyway, that’s the very brief story of cheeked up hamster. I could add some screenshots of her reactions to being hamstered but it’s also late at night and I can’t be bothered. Just wanted to share with the world that sometimes the most fun pranks are the completely harmless ones.

Breaking your friends shit is out, sending them a cheeked up hamster is in.

[ddlydevotion]

IMAGINE BEING LOVED BY ME

nsfw bo chow headcanons

a/n: it’s currently 3:20 am here but I had to write this because Bo hasn’t left my mind since I last watched Sinners 💌. I also want to clarify that this wasn’t written solely for white audiences, that’d be stupid of me to do as I’m a poc myself (I know people have been worried about that in regards to Sinners fanfiction). Read my other Sinners works here ⚰️.

- I have a feeling he’d have some sort of obsession with your ass. He just seems like the type to give you an appreciative tap but not before saying “atta girl”. He’ll softly squeeze your ass as the two of you engage in a messy make out session, the sensation of his strong hands on you making your face flush with arousal.

- I know I already said this in my last post about Remmick, but I genuinely believe Bo wouldn’t mind you having a bush. I mean, it is the 1930’s so I don’t think he’d pay it any mind. He’s able to comfort you in such a swift manner it’s almost like his super power. He never fails to make you feel comfortable in the bedroom when you suddenly become too aware of your surroundings or insecurities.

“Hey-baby, look at me. You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Keep your eyes on me, that’s right. Focus on me, baby, it’s alright.”

- oh my gosh have you seen this man’s hands? I have no doubt in my mind that he’d put them to good use when he’s working to make you cum. He curls his fingers in just the right way, cooing at your trembling form and pressing a hard thumb to your pulsing clit. He’ll twist his fingers in a way that he knows will make your back arch and your mouth open in a silent, gasping moan.

- Bo knows your body and he knows exactly what will get you going. He knows how your body shudders when he kisses the back of your neck. He knows that your plush thighs will eventually shake when he twists his thick fingers inside of your swollen pussy. He knows your manicured fingers will run through his thick, dark hair while his tongue flicks across your perky nipples, his drool drizzling over your tits like syrup. He knows your teary eyes will search for his when you’re on your knees for him, his thick cock finding a home within your warm, wet mouth.

- He’s a sucker for eye contact and his knees would buckle if you were to engage in eye contact with him while you throat him. He’d gently cradle your cheek, encouraging you to continue looking at him. “Look a’chu, baby”, his hips thrust his cock even deeper into your welcoming mouth, “so good f’me.”

- I see him being a family man and developing an obsession with achieving a family with you. He’s constantly doing his best to prove to you that he’s capable of providing for you & a family. Constantly talking about what a good ‘mama’ you’d be. So…breeding kink?

- yeah, I think we all know that Bo would be the type to talk you through it. His dirty talk is so fleshed out and almost teasing. It’s enough to make your eyes water from how overwhelming the pleasure is, your neck heating up from the unrelenting attention.

“Look at all that, baby, you’ve been walkin’ around with your pussy drippin’ like this all day? Don’t worry, I’ve gotchu. Daddy’s here now.”

- ughh just thinking about the dance scene between Grace and Bo and how sensual it was. This man is such a romantic and an incredibly attentive lover. He knows what you like & what it takes to get you going.

- you definitely got pregnant while the two of you were on your honeymoon. He would not get off of you!!

- He’s definitely taken you behind the counter at the store. There’s been many times where his touchy tendencies worsen when the two of you finally close for the day. He’s finally alone with his wife and you expect him to behave? He’s far too impatient to wait for the two of you to go home, so the countertop will have to do.

[rosierin]

just a kiss (it wasn’t) | suna rintarou

synopsis; (y/n) and suna share the story of their first and only kiss. they don’t talk about it much but that doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten

warning; NSFW, mature content, explicit content‼️

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

It was a rainy Saturday evening—which, in this household, meant one thing:

The perfect excuse for a movie night.

The pitter-patter of rain filled the living room, the sound rousing the sort of mood that made you want to burrow under a blanket and never crawl out. The scent of burnt popcorn (courtesy of Atsumu) still lingered in the air, barely masked by a candle someone had lit a few minutes earlier. On the TV, a romcom played, casting lights across a couch that had seen better days.

They were all tangled somewhere on and around it.

Suna was slouched in his armchair, one hand tucked behind his head, the other loosely holding the remote. The couch, meanwhile, was a mess of limbs. (Y/n) was wedged between the twins, blanket pulled over her legs, comfortable enough not to apologise when her thighs accidentally bumped one of theirs. It was cramped, a little too warm, but somehow still perfect in that lazy, lived-in way.

The movie was halfway through.

Some soft-hearted childhood-sweethearts plotline—filled with lots of longing glances, a slow dance in the kitchen, and a romantic first kiss on New Year’s Eve under fairy lights.

It was sweet and frankly a little bit sappy. But to (y/n), nostalgic in a way that made the room feel warmer than it was.

‘Course Atsumu had to go and ruin it.

“Okay but like,” he gestured towards the screen, “it’d be so weird kissin’ someone you’ve known since you were, like, six. Right? Isn’t that basically incest?”

(Y/n) sighed and pressed her eyes shut. “That’s… not how incest works.”

“No, but you get what I mean,” Atsumu rambled. (Y/n) didn’t grace him with a response. “You’ve watched ‘em eat glue and pick their nose yer whole life. How d’you go from that to makin’ out?”

Osamu made a thoughtful noise. “I mean, I get it. It’s weird if they feel like family.”

“Exactly!” Atsumu said. “Just feels wrong.”

Suna, who had diligently said nothing for the last fifteen minutes, shifted in his chair.

(Y/n) glanced at him, saw the barely perceptible twitch of his mouth, and cleared her throat.

And for whatever reason—maybe it was the sensual kissing scene playing on screen, maybe it was the quiet thrum of mischief in the air—she spoke without thinking.

“I’ve kissed Rin before.”

For a moment, nobody spoke. The rain drummed steadily against the windows.

She could practically hear the gears turning in the twins’ heads, the words ricocheting around their skulls before slotting into place.

Atsumu’s frown was pure instinct. “…Huh?"

Osamu turned his head, eyes widening a fraction. “You what? Seriously?”

Suna gave a lazy shrug. Then, with a quiet hum—like it wasn’t worth making a fuss over—he responded, “Yeah.”

“Wait. Hold on.” Osamu pointed between them, a grin tugging at his lips. “You two. Kissed. Like—on the mouth?”

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. “Is there another way?”

Atsumu’s eyebrows pulled together, not quite a glare, but close. “Wait—when?” His tone sounded as though he didn't know whether to be be confused, angry, or both.

She hesitated.

That was the thing. It had been years ago. Just once. A long, blurry night tucked behind them like a folded photograph they never took back out. But even now, her face grew warm.

“It was… a while ago. We were… eighteen, I think. Funnily enough it was on New Year's too." She pointed to the movie.

Atsumu turned toward her fully, one leg folded beneath him, the other dangling off the couch. His brows were drawn tight, mouth parted. “And yer just tellin’ us now?!”

(Y/n) offered a weak shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Oh, it was.

It definitely was.

But she wasn’t about to give the twins the full retelling.

The whole time, her attention was drawn to Suna—trying to get a read on him, even though he wasn’t giving her much to work with. Still, she had a feeling he was more invested than he let on.

“Was it, like... a dare?” Osamu asked.

Suna shook his head. “Nah.”

“So... a practice thing?”

He popped a kernel into his mouth. Smirked just a little. “Ask, (y/n).”

Bastard.

At once, both twins turned to look at her.

Atsumu was the image of impatience. Leaning in, eyes narrowed like he was half expecting her to admit she was joking.

Meanwhile Osamu, calmer but no less curious, raised one brow in silent question.

She shrank back against the couch cushions, suddenly hyper-aware of the space—or lack thereof—between them.

Two sets of expectant eyes on her.

Two completely different expressions.

One identical intensity.

She swallowed.

She could still remember it—the quiet pop of fireworks outside Suna’s window. The way his eyes looked that night, different somehow. Older.

The memory made her pause, words caught somewhere between embarrassment and pride.

She glanced at Suna and their eyes met.

He didn’t say anything outright, but his shoulder lifted slightly. A silent go on. And if she hadn’t known him for so long, she might’ve missed the faint flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. The quiet, smug little challenge that said:

Go on. Tell them. Let’s see what version you pick.

She cleared her throat and chose her words carefully, eyes darting between Atsumu and Osamu.

“So… we were alone. Remember? We’d gone to his parents' house over the holidays. You guys had gone back to Hyōgo to spend Christmas with your family.”

The twins nodded. Let her continue.

“Anyway, at first we were just talking...” Her fingers toyed with a loose thread in the blanket over her lap.

“Then he looked at me,” she went on, gaze drifting towards Suna. She paused, unsure how much he was willing to let her to share—if he wanted her to tell the rest.

He didn’t look her way. Just let the silence stretch, eyes fixed on the credits like none of this concerned him.

Right. Point taken.

“And he just… I don’t know—you know how guys have that specific look when you wanna kiss someone?”

Osamu snorted. Atsumu shook his head. "No?"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. "Okay, well—you do. Anyway. He gave me that look and..."

“And?” Atsumu clicked his tongue. “Jesus woman, how long ya gonna keep edgin’ us for?”

Her fingers curled into the couch cushion as she shot him a weak glare. “Well… after that, he kissed me. So… I kissed him back.”

Her tone was even, but a flicker of a smile tugged at her lips—because no matter how nonchalant she tried to sound, the memory still lit something warm in her chest.

Osamu let out a low whistle.

Atsumu gawked—shocked, maybe a little relieved. “That’s it?”

She risked a glance at Suna.

It was faint, but she could tell he was biting back a grin. That quiet glint was there again. Something so typically Suna—aloof, amused, and just a little bit smug. Like he was remembering it too.

“She’s leaving out the good part."

(Y/n)’s heart jumped. “Rin—”

Suna either missed the flicker of panic on her face, or ignored it. He just sat up with a slow stretch, sweatshirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin. A sound slipped from him—half sigh, half yawn.

“It wasn’t just a kiss,” he stated—flat, but a little too suggestive. Probably on purpose.

Osamu’s eyebrows shot up, eyes locked on Suna now. “You guys…?”

“No,” Suna said before anyone could finish the thought. “We didn't get that far."

That earned him a full double take from both twins.

“Go on," Atsumu demanded.

(Y/n) was at a loss for words. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the twins. It’s not like they’d go around repeating the story—why would they? But even so. Nobody knew about her past… lore with Suna. Not a soul.

And while she didn’t mind mentioning the kiss, the rest—well. The rest was, for lack of a better term, not safe for work.

Not safe for her dignity, either.

That night had been a lot of things.

Spontaneous, yes. Heated. But also more complicated than she'd ever admit out loud.

She’d known the twins for years—ever since they were teenagers. And yet, she’d never told them about her crush on her best friend. Never told them about one of the most pivotal nights of her love life.

And perhaps tonight wasn't the night for that.

Instead, she shook her head, cheeks burning as the memories began rushing in. “I dunno what to say! We were just… stupid and curious and just being your typical horny teenagers, that’s all.”

That earned a quiet snort from Osamu, who looked more amused than surprised at this new piece of backstory.

Atsumu, on the other hand, didn’t laugh. He just stared, like he was trying to figure out what to say but didn’t quite know how to frame it. His lips parted, then pressed shut again.

As for Suna... He simply kept quiet. Knowing him, he was probably just as torn about sharing the details. If anyone valued their privacy, it was Suna.

And (y/n)—despite herself—felt her gaze drop to her hands in her lap, fingers twisting in the sleeves of her hoodie Her skin prickled—not quite from embarrassment, but from the heat of the memory... and the leftover tension hanging in the air.

Mercifully, neither twin pressed any further. Even Atsumu, surprisingly.

(Y/n) exhaled a little breath as Osamu pulled his brother and Suna into a brainstorm about which movie to watch next.

Hopefully not another romance.

She wasn't sure if he'd done it out of sympathy, or if it just happened to be good timing. Either way, she was grateful for the distraction.

They never brought it up again.

But that didn’t mean her mind didn't.

Every now and then, she’d glance over at Suna. He looked relaxed—detached, even—but she couldn’t help but wonder if his mind was buzzing too. If his hands had gotten clammy. If his heart had even skipped a beat.

She was too caught up in her thoughts to notice him pull out his phone.

Her phone buzzed seconds later.

Blinking herself out of the haze, she looked down at her screen and gawked.

From: Rin tell your brain to be quiet can hear it from here

She ignored his message.

And glared at him instead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was right after graduation. In winter, on New Year’s Eve.

A night with no romance, no candles, no feelings—just the quiet kind of chaos that only happens when trust, timing, and tension mix in the worst possible way.

They’d known each other since they were nine.

Back then, it was simple. He was the quiet kid who liked video games and hated group work. She was the chatty one who always finished her lunch first and dragged him out of the house. They just… clicked. Simple as that. A friendship built on years of inside jokes, late-night calls, and knowing each other like the backs of their hand.

It wasn’t until middle school that her feelings began to change.

Not overnight. Far from it. But somewhere between study calls and the first time he pulled off his hoodie in front of her, something settled in her chest. It crept up on her like a slow burn. A feeling you don’t notice until it’s already been there a while and planted its roots.

She started caring more. Laughing harder at his jokes. Noticing when his replies came slower, when his voice sounded a bit more tired than usual. Being around him just felt... better than being around anyone else. There was comfort. Trust. And the type of closeness that made her heart ache for all the right reasons.

Love, probably. But the shy, unspoken kind. The kind you don’t confess because you're afraid it might ruin everything.

And then, of course, they both had a glow-up—that was just the truth. He got taller. His voice dropped. His jaw sharpened. And she noticed.

The same way he noticed her legs that summer she started wearing shorts more often. The same way his eyes lingered a little too long when she bent over to grab something. The way his teasing lost a bit of its brotherly edge and got a bit more... biting.

She wasn’t stupid. He found her attractive. She knew that.

But she also knew that’s where it stopped. It was purely surface-level. Because Suna wasn’t the type to fall easily. And if he ever saw her as anything more, it never lasted long enough to mean something.

Not like hers had.

She’d been in love with him for years. Secretly. Hopelessly. Love you don’t act on because it’s easier to carry in silence than risk putting it down and never getting it back.

So no—

They weren’t a thing. They weren’t anything.

Except... aware.

Almost as if something sat between them, constantly humming just beneath the surface. A quiet almost that only one of them seemed to feel.

Until that particular New Year’s night, when the hum turned into something louder.

His house was quiet. His parents and little sister were off celebrating with friends, and he’d bailed last minute with the most Suna excuse ever:

“Too many people. Too much noise. Don’t feel like pretending to care about countdowns.”

(Y/n) had agreed without thinking. Like always. By now, saying yes to him felt like second nature, so when he suggested she stay the night, it didn’t even feel like a choice.

Now they were in his room—lights off, movie playing in the background, the faint sound of fireworks crackling somewhere in the distance. Her legs were curled up on his bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. Suna sat beside her, phone face-down, arm draped loosely across the back of the mattress.

They weren’t saying much. Just watching. Existing.

Until the scene changed.

And—what the fuck?

Where the hell did this come from?

Out of nowhere, the couple on screen were now tangled up on a couch—shirts half-off, lips clashing. Moans slipped out between kisses, fingers clawing at fabric like they couldn’t get close enough.

The scene wasn't explicit by any means, but showed enough to make (y/n) cringe. Flushed skin. Bare thighs. The unmistakable rhythm of two people getting lost in each other.

Her spine straightened on instinct.

She cleared her throat and looked away, shifting in her seat under the guise of getting comfortable.

She could feel Suna's eyes on her.

“Do scenes like this make you uncomfortable?” he asked, voice laced with amusement.

She stiffened. “No. I mean—maybe a bit.”

He hummed, glancing sideways. Her eyes flicked between the couple on screen and Suna, trying very hard not to combust at the explicit sounds that now filled his moderate sized bedroom.

“…Do they not make you uncomfortable?” she countered.

He shrugged, gaze slipping back to the TV with that usual calm. “Nah. Not really.”

Typical.

She narrowed her eyes. "What does make you uncomfortable, then?"

His response came far too fast. “Kita.”

She fought back a grin. “Seriously?”

“Correct." He gave a curt nod. “Kita Shinsuke freaks me out.”

Out of all the things. His stoic volleyball captain from high school is what got him?

She snorted, shaking her head a little. “How come? I think he’s nice!”

Suna’s face stayed neutral, but she could've sworn she saw him shudder.

“Try having him breathe down your neck for a day,” he mumbled. “That guy’s terrifying.”

“Kita’s not scary,” she argued. “He only picked on you ’cause he knew you were a major slacker.”

His lip twitched. “Only one who got scouted to Inarizaki though.”

(Y/n) nodded, conceding with a half-smile. “That you were.”

Thankfully, by the time she turned her attention back to the TV, the sex scene had ended.

Thank God.

Unfortunately, it was only then that she noticed how close they were sitting. She blamed the way she’d shifted earlier, trying to act normal. That was on her. And maybe it was the scene that had just played out on screen, but now the space between them felt… tight.

Suddenly, the movie wasn’t the only thing messing with her focus.

She looked over at him once. Then again.

Their thighs brushed every now and then. Not fully touching, but enough for the heat of him to bleed into her side. Every shift he made—the way his hoodie rustled, the subtle rise and fall of his breathing—felt loud in her ears.

She tried to focus on the movie. Really, she did.

But her eyes kept drifting.

Just for a second. Then another.

He looked good. Effortless like always with his hoodie half-pulled over his messy hair, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, eyes half-lidded like he could fall asleep any second.

But he wore his tired well. Even the faint shadows beneath his eyes didn’t make him look worn—they made him look soft. Still strangely handsome.

Her gaze slipped to his jaw. Then the sliver of collarbone visible beneath his hoodie, the way the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders.

Then lower—to where his hands rested in his lap, fingers loose and half-curled, adorned with a silver ring on each pointer finger. She didn’t remember when he started wearing them.

Her throat tightened slightly. They suited him. She’d always thought his hands were pretty. Usually, it was just a fleeting thought. A simple observation.

But tonight—tonight, she found herself wondering what those hands could do. What they’d feel like against her skin.

Her cheeks flushed. She looked away. Cleared her throat.

Get a grip, (y/n).

It wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. She was over him. Had been, for a while now. This was the movie's fault. Or maybe some leftover curiosity—that’s all.

“Hm?”

Suna's voice drifted over, pulling her from her daze.

She straightened a bit too fast, hating how guilty she sounded when she replied, “What?”

There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth when he glanced over. “Were you checking me out?”

Her response was like a bad reflex. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I was just—” Her eyes dropped to his lap, and she could've cursed at the mindless action.

Why'd I do that?

He's probably gonna think I was looking at—

She caught the way his brows lifted as she looked back up, his smirk broadening into something almost boyish.

Of course.

"Your hands,” she clarified, louder than intended.

“My hands?” He echoed, almost innocently. But something in his voice sounded suspiciously pleased.

She could’ve brushed it off. Could’ve left it at that. But her mouth had already run ahead of her.

"Mhmm. I was just thinking how nice they are."

If her words weren't enough to make her cringe, then Suna's reaction was. He didn't bother hiding his amusement this time, not as he slowly lifted a hand in front of him and flexed his fingers a few times.

She hated how her gaze lingered on the movement, on the glint of silver on his fingers, the subtle shift of muscle beneath skin, pronounced with each curl.

Lazy, controlled—like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Thanks," he drawled.

She swallowed.

God.

Her mind went somewhere it absolutely should not have gone.

Her thighs squeezed together under the blanket.

He dropped his hands back into his lap without a word and looked at her.

She daren't meet his gaze.

She shouldn’t be having these thoughts. Not about him. Not now. They’d sat like this before—shoulder to shoulder, legs touching, even sharing a bed more times she can count. But it had never felt like this. Never made her pulse quicken or her mind wander the way it was tonight.

So why now?

Maybe it was the quiet. The late hour. Maybe even the stupid movie.

Or maybe it was the fact that it was just the two of them—alone in his room with nowhere to be, nothing to do, and too much unsaid sitting between them.

Because something about being here with him like this always brought old feelings to the surface.

“Do you think we’ll be different this year?”

The words slipped out before she could stop them—quiet, barely a whisper.

Suna’s eyes flicked to her face. “You mean like… emotionally evolved?”

She tried not to fidget too much and nodded once, lips pressed together, already regretting her question.

But Suna didn't make her feel guilty. Didn't tease. Didn't overreact. Just held her gaze and asked, “Did you want it to be different?”

The question made her stomach twist, eyes drifting to the way her hands fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie. She could feel it, that pulse of awareness between them. The one that made the hairs on her arms prick up. The one she used to feel and thought she’d finally outgrown—until now.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Probably not.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. But it certainly wasn't the kind she was used to.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as Suna turned to her fully. The slight shift in position was negligible, probably nothing but a few centimetres. But she felt it enough to make her heart stutter.

It took her a great amount of effort not to shrink beneath his gaze.

Suna and his damn eye contact.

"Something's on your mind."

It wasn't a question. More like an observation that landed straight in her gut.

Her breathing shallowed. "How can you tell...?"

“You’re acting weird tonight,” he murmured. Not an insult, but something almost like curiosity.

“So are you,” she shot back, voice mirroring his hushed tone.

A ghost of a smirk. “Yeah?”

“You’re sitting closer than usual.”

“Am I?”

“You’re looking at me different.”

Indeed. He didn’t deny it.

His eyes were half-lidded. Hazy. Fixed on her like he was seeing something he hadn’t let himself look at before.

She recognized that look.

She’d seen it in other guys before—guys at parties, in passing glances, in moments that felt fleeting and charged.

But never from him. Not Suna.

And now that it was him—looking at her like that—her stomach twisted with something half-forgotten. Old and perhaps unfinished.

Something she thought had burned out long ago.

Her voice came out smaller than she intended, tight in her throat. "...What’re you doing?"

He didn’t answer right away, but the dip in atmosphere was palpable.

“Tell me to stop.”

Her heart lurched—at the words, at the tone. Silken, but brazen. Familiar, but suddenly foreign.

The feeling in her chest felt like reopening a book she’d shelved a long time ago.

A chapter she never thought she’d revisit.

She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just sat there, heart hammering as he leaned in—close enough for her to catch the scent of his cologne. For her eyes to flick to his mouth—once, then back up.

"...What?"

Usually she'd deflect. Change the subject. Look away. But she couldn't this time. Or rather... she wouldn't.

“I said,” he murmured, gaze dropping to her lips, “tell me to stop.”

Her mouth parted, but no words came out.

Not as he tilted his head, lips brushing hers in the faintest whisper of contact.

Not when his nose bumped hers and her breath hitched.

She barely had time to register what was happening.

Next thing she knew—

He was kissing her.

No rush. No pressure. Just the feeling of his mouth on hers, tentative and warm, slow enough to give her time to pull away, soft enough to make her brain fog.

And in her head, all the years came rushing in.

The laughter. The teasing. How she used to look for him in every room like it was second nature. The late-night calls. The company that had always felt like safety.

She thought she was past this. She really did.

But now, with Suna kissing her like that—like she was something precious and just barely his—she wasn’t so sure.

His mouth moved against hers with a kind of lazy confidence, lips parting just enough to make her dizzy. Her body tensed beneath the softness, thighs pressing together, fingers twitching where they rested in her lap, aching to reach for something. Him.

And just when she thought she might actually lose her balance, he pulled away. Not far. Just enough to look at her.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Just stared. Eyes locked on hers like he was watching her process the moment in real time—studying every twitch, every breath. Waiting to see if she’d move first.

But (y/n) was in a daze, her lips still parted. Eyes bleary and blinking as if she was seeing a different reality entirely.

She had kissed Suna.

Suna.

Her best friend Suna.

The one she had pining over for years.

And better yet—he had made the first move.

"Earth to (y/n)..."

His voice reeled her back in. Soft and teasing.

"I..."

Suna’s brows lifted just slightly as she searched for words.

He didn't press. Didn't joke. But there was something playful in his gaze, and maybe just a little bit restrained. Like he was holding back on purpose. Not just out of respect, but to test her. To see what she’d do next.

A quiet dare.

Her nerves flared. She tried to fight it—tried to keep still. Tried to fight the urge to do something truly and utterly reckless. But failed.

Because for a moment, her nerves didn’t matter.

The second-guessing, the what-ifs—gone.

Fuck it.

She reached for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie—and crashed her lips onto his.

Harder this time. No hesitation.

He groaned low in his throat—surprised for half a second before melting into it, as if that was all the permission he needed.

His hand came up fast, fingers sliding along her cheek, then down to the hinge of her jaw, guiding her into him with an impatience that felt so unlike him.

(Y/n)'s body lit up at the contact—something involuntary slipping past her lips, a soft, needy sound she didn’t mean to make.

Suna was on her in an instant, tongue slipping past her lips without hesitation—slow, coaxing, claiming, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment to break her open.

A shiver rolled down her spine.

She fisted the front of his hoodie, tugging him closer, anchoring herself to him. The kiss felt good. Intoxicatingly good—like finally getting something you stopped wishing for.

She wasn’t sure what it meant. But right now, she didn’t want it to stop.

His hand moved almost carefully, brushing her jaw, then dropping down to her thigh. Warm. Grounding. Asking without asking.

Her body responded before her mind could make sense of it all.

Buzzing. Yearning. A little afraid.

She broke the kiss for half a second, lips brushing his as she whispered, “Rin”—barely more than a plea.

“Still with me?” he asked smoothly.

She nodded.

He leaned in again. This time his mouth found her neck.

Her breath caught.

Then his hand slipped under the hem of her hoodie, fingers dragging along her waist, slow and tailored to make her shiver.

She let out a shaky breath. “This is insane.”

“Yeah,” he rasped. Then, with a tinge of humour, “Don't worry, I locked the door.”

She almost laughed, but then his hand slipped higher beneath her shirt, and all she could do was gasp.

His fingers traced her ribs. His mouth brushed the spot just beneath her ear, where her pulse fluttered.

She was trembling, and yet he didn't stop.

But he did pause. Looked up at her again. “Still okay?”

She nodded.

She didn’t know what started it—maybe the silence. Maybe the look in his eyes when he was about to kiss her. Maybe the way she didn’t stop him when he leaned in.

Whatever the reason, she didn't have it in her to pull away. And clearly, neither did he.

Not when his mouth claimed hers again—slow, heated, open.

Not when his hand slid up the back of her hoodie and skimmed her bare spine as though he’d been holding himself back.

Not when he pulled her onto his lap, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs, bodies flushed, hearts thudding in sync.

The kiss deepened. Got messy. Hot. A mixture of pants and breathy sighs.

They barely parted for air before their mouths collided again, each kiss more desperate than the next, breaking only when their lungs forced them to.

Every kiss said, Don’t stop. Every inhale said, More.

Her hands slid into his hair, threading through the soft strands at his nape—pulling, guiding. He groaned softly into her mouth as his tongue brushed hers, slow and filthy. And when she let out a soft, helpless sound against his mouth, he gripped her tighter.

She felt it then—him—hard beneath her, pressing up where she was aching, and her body reacted in the most hopelessly honest way.

She rocked against him once.

He sucked in a breath.

The reaction must've snapped something in him, because in a blink, he was kissing down the column of her throat—eager hands roaming her flushed curves. His mouth working its way along her skin, teasing, but never quite giving her what she wanted.

He pulled her hoodie up in one fluid motion, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank it over her head. Her top followed, peeled away with the same quiet urgency, until she was left in nothing but her bra.

His gaze dipped once and everything soft about him disappeared.

She barely noticed the cold.

She noticed his mouth.

On her collarbones. On her chest. Open, warm, teeth dragging lightly just to make her gasp. She tilted her head back, lips parting around a little sigh, hips unconsciously rolling into his lap again and again like her body was trying to chase something it didn’t fully understand.

His hands found her hips, head hitting the headboard with a quiet thud.

Suna made a noise, low and hoarse—like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. His jaw went slightly slack. His hands tightened.

“Do that again.”

The authority in his voice was mind-numbing. She could’ve sworn goosebumps rose along her arms at the command alone.

Her cheeks flushed, heat prickling across her skin. But her hips moved again, experimentally and obediently. The drag of her clothed core against him made them both stutter a breath.

Something curled in her chest. Not quite pride. Not quite shock. Just a quiet thrill—sparked by the way he looked at her, like she’d just undone something in him.

His eyes were half-lidded, dark and heavy. Every shift of her hips made his lips part a little more. His breathing became ragged, jaw tightening when her movements grew bolder. His fingers dug into the dip of her waist like he was trying to keep her steady, or to keep his own hips from bucking up.

She ground down again—this time with more pressure.

His head fell back. “God, (y/n)—”

She kept going.

Grinding in slow, shallow rolls. The heat between her legs was blinding, the friction building in waves. She could feel the outline of him beneath her, hard and twitching through thin layers of clothes. His hoodie had ridden up his abdomen, her thighs trembling against his joggers.

Yet, Suna—despite the state he was in—was somehow still completely focused on her, like he physically needed to watch her fall apart in his lap.

His hands slid up under her bare stomach, raking over her waist, ribs, then cupping her clothed breasts. His thumbs brushed over her nipples and she gasped, hips jerking at the sudden contact.

“You like this,” he muttered darkly, “You’re getting off on the thought of riding me."

She bit her lip, but couldn't bring herself to deny it.

For a moment, she wondered what that non-verbal confession had done to him. If she’d imagined the glint in his eye. The way his muscles tensed beneath her.

She got her answer soon enough.

With one rough, fluid shift, he flipped them—her back hitting the mattress with a soft thump. Suna hovered over her, one knee pressing between her thighs, caging her in.

She looked up at him with wide, glazed eyes as he bent low, hooked a finger under her shorts, and gave them a slight tug.

“Next time we do that,” he murmured, “I’m taking these off.”

She didn’t answer—just whined as heat coiled tight in her abdomen.

His hand slid between them.

Inside her shorts.

Then inside her underwear.

Her whole body seized up.

His fingers found her—hot, slick, already aching—and he hissed like the feel of her actually hurt him.

“Shit,” he muttered, jaw flexing as his eyes dropped. “Already?”

He looked up again, lips curling slow. Confident and just a little bit smug. “I barely even touched you.”

Disbelief flickered across her flushed face, her eyebrows pinching above her lidded eyes. “You’re joking, right?” she whispered, a little breathless.

Suna just smirked.

His fingers moved again—confident, unfairly skilled, trailing through her slowly without slipping inside. Testing. Mapping her with long, maddening strokes.

She could feel the way her body clenched around nothing, the unmistakable warmth pooling between her thighs. Every nerve ending lit up, impossible to hide.

Her face burned.

He didn’t rush.

It was almost cruel, how calm he was. He didn’t need to ask what felt good. He could read it in her breath, every soft gasp that slipped from her lips, every poorly concealed moan as he deliberately avoided the places that would’ve undone her too quickly.

She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, his name slipping past her lips in a quiet whimper.

He worked her open with soft, torturous rhythm. One finger, then two. The stretch wasn’t new, but it still made her gasp—tight, full, a pulse-deep pressure that had her legs falling open wider, heels digging into the sheets.

His fingers curled deep, knuckles pressing just right against that tender spot inside her, and then he started moving—slow, sinful, obscenely precise—each thrust dragging just enough to make her clench around him, like her body couldn’t bear the emptiness he kept leaving behind.

Her head fell back. A broken sound slipped past her lips.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Don't stop—”

She didn’t care how her voice sounded—needier and more desperate than she’d ever heard, her fingers clutching at Suna’s arm. Her best friend's arm.

Her hips pressed into him, seeking that pressure, riding the curl of his fingers like her body couldn’t help it. Her movements weren’t shy or composed anymore. She was writhing, desperate for more—chasing every thrust of his hand with a helpless pace.

Suna watched her like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

His mouth was slightly open. Eyes cloudy, fixed to the point where their bodies met.

“Look at you," he breathed.

She barely heard his voice.

She just kept moving, breath hitching every time his thumb caught the right spot. The pressure inside her was building too fast, overwhelming, but she didn't stop. Couldn't.

“Usually so sweet,” he crooned. “So polite. So proper.”

His smirk was lazy, laced with awe. “And now you’re fucking yourself on my fingers."

A shaky, flustered sound escaped her throat. “Rin—please—”

“Didn’t know you could be this filthy,” he teased, lips brushing her temple. “You were holding out on me.”

She whined, hips stuttering for a second—mostly from pleasure, partly from shame.

“Bet you touch yourself thinking about this,” he muttered. “About me doing this to you. Making a mess of you."

She bit her lip, eyes squeezing shut. Her body was moving on instinct now—hips rolling into his hand like she didn’t care how it looked, how desperate it felt. And maybe she should’ve cared. Maybe she should’ve been mortified by how easily she came apart for him. But right now, with his fingers buried inside her, and that voice in her ear—

She couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“Oh, fuck, you do,” he groaned. “That’s why you’re squeezing me like that.”

She was close. So close. Her body burned, curling toward his hand, her movements frantic now, messy—rocking hard against him like she couldn’t hold out any longer.

Her stomach tensed. Her entire body locked up.

“I’m—Rin—”

“I know,” he murmured. “That's it—just like that."

One more stroke. One more definitive grind of his palm against her and the tension inside her belly snapped.

Her whole body arched into him. Her hands clutched his shoulders, lips parting in a silent cry as she came on his fingers—thighs trembling, chest heaving, whimpers spilling out between broken sobs of his name.

Suna didn't ease up yet, working her through it, his fingers slowing just enough to guide her through the last wave of it.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he muttered, watching as she fell apart. “Good fucking girl."

She twitched, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as he finally relented. He eased his fingers out, gliding them slowly through the mess between her thighs.

(Y/n) was limp against the sheets—dazed, flushed, and thoroughly exhausted.

And yet, amid the wreckage of her orgasm, one stupid thought surfaced like a stray balloon floating into the mess of her mind.

Has Rin always had such a potty mouth?

Something must’ve shown on her face—maybe the pinch of her brows, the slight narrowing of her eyes, or the way her lips parted in quiet confusion—because Suna glanced down at her with a bemused expression.

“You okay?”

He had the audacity to look as casual as ever, hovering over her with one arm braced beside her head. She tried not to shudder as his other hand slowly traced the length of her bare thigh, and instead met his gaze with an almost sceptical stare.

“…Since when are you so chatty?”

He stared. And then, to her delight—he actually laughed.

It wasn’t his usual dry, sarcastic snort either. No—this was one of his rare laughs. Breathy, warm and genuine. The sound made her chest feel funny. The sight even more so: the slight crinkle of his nose, the way his sharp eyes softened like the moment meant something.

“That’s what’s on your mind right now?” he asked, half laughing as he said it.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes but her cheeks flushed anyway, one hand coming up to brush her hair back from her face.

“Well—yeah,” she huffed. “It was just—you know, a lot.”

His smirk lingered, followed with a slight tilt of his chin, brows raised in quiet expectation. If he was waiting for her to elaborate on that statement, he was sorely mistaken.

She groaned and covered her face with her arm. “Don’t make me say it," she grumbled. "You clearly had a lot to say. You never talk that much, even during volleyball.”

He chuckled, quiet but no less smug. “Guess we’re both full of surprises tonight.”

That line landed like a spark on open flame.

She dropped her arm just in time to catch the pointed look he gave her. Like he hadn’t forgotten the way she’d been squirming under him moments ago, how she’d clutched at the sheets and rolled her hips into his hand like a woman possessed.

Her face burned as she averted her gaze.

“Don't,” she warned weakly.

“C'mon, I thought we were past the shy part.”

She kicked weakly at his thigh, but her heart was thudding all over again. That look in his eyes—it wasn’t gone. If anything, it had simmered. Softer, but no less heated. Like he was watching her come back down just to see if he could wind her up again.

And then he just… looked at her.

Not in the lustful, primal way from earlier. This was quieter. His gaze flicked over her face in that typical, unreadable Suna fashion.

She shifted beneath it, suddenly aware of her appearance—her smudged makeup, her flushed skin, the way her hair was probably a mess against the pillow. Something about the way he stared made her feel more exposed than before.

She wondered what was going on in that indecipherable mind of his. What he was seeing. The flaws. The cracks. All the little imperfections she’d spent years picking at in the mirror.

Then his hand lifted, thumb brushing her cheekbone with a tenderness that sent butterflies loose in her stomach.

“Pretty girl,” he murmured.

That was it. Just two words. And yet they hit her square in the chest. Her breath caught, the corners of her eyes prickling with the irrational urge to cry.

His gaze lingered on her, searching or admiring.

“You look surprised,” he mused softly.

She blinked at him, stunned. For a second, it felt like they were fifteen again—a time when her words jumbled and her mind raced. A time when everything felt awkward, flustered, and a little too much like love.

“You’ve never called me that before,” she whispered.

His thumb kept moving in slow, reverent strokes across her cheek. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought it,” he said. “You’ve always been beautiful."

Something swelled in her chest, something old and warm. And when he traced his hand lower to run his thumb over her bottom lip—slowly, like he wanted to memorize it, brand it into memory—her heart cracked a little.

Still, her mouth parted for him.

And he stared, stared at the way she wrapped her lips around the pad of his thumb, at what she was allowing him to do. She caught the subtle clench of his jaw, the flicker in his eyes—the exact moment his restraint gave out.

His kiss wasn't soft.

His body pressed flush to hers, and she could feel him now, fully. Hard. Hot. Nestled right where she was still sensitive.

His hips ground against her, slow and firm, swallowing the tiny gasp she let out. She arched up, and he groaned low. His breath was hot against her ear when he spoke.

“You gonna take me for real this time?”

He shifted again, one hand gripping her thigh, spreading her legs just enough. He slotted between them, the thick heat of him pressing right against her core, only the thin layers of her shorts and his sweats between them.

He rocked once. Harder.

A moan slipped past her lips, more drawn-out than the rest.

“Yeah?” he crooned, almost breathless. His hips rolled again, the length of him dragging slow and heavy right against her clothed core. She felt how hard he was. How ready. How badly he wanted in. "You want it? Just say the word."

“Okay,” she whispered. Her hands were already in his hair. Her hips lifted.

He reached down, hooking his fingers into her shorts and underwear in one motion. She lifted her hips without needing to be asked, then raised her legs so he could pull them all the way off.

Then she felt him.

Skin to skin.

Hot, flushed, heavy against her entrance.

He didn’t push in—yet. Just lined himself up. Let her feel it. Bare and hot and right there, rubbing slowly against her—back and forth, teasing, testing her breath.

The pressure. The stretch. The way it would be.

And it hit her.

Each inhale came shakier than the last. Her body tensed, but not like it had before.

She wanted to want it. God, she really did.

But something cracked inside her chest. Like a wave of uncertainty slamming into a brick wall.

Her mind felt loud all of a sudden.

This wasn’t just a hook-up. Not with him. It couldn’t be.

Not after everything.

Not when her feelings had just barely begun to quiet down.

Not when she still didn’t know what this meant. Or what it didn’t.

Her body buzzed, but her heart tripped over itself. And it was like her mind finally caught up to what was happening.

This is Suna.

Her best friend.

The boy she’d loved.

The boy she was supposed to be over.

And she wasn’t ready for what would come after this.

The weight. The shift. The maybe.

Her breath hitched. Her fingers stilled in his hair.

He noticed instantly.

He didn’t push in. Just stayed right there, wary, his breath stalling as he searched her face.

“(Y/n)?” he asked, voice softer now. Cautious.

He hovered. Silent. His fingers flexed where they were gripping her thigh, like he was holding himself back from giving in completely.

She could feel him twitch against her. Feel how close they were to crossing that line.

She bit her lip, and the world narrowed to nothing but heat and heartbeat.

She couldn’t do this. Not like this.

“I…”

She stared up at him—at the flushed cheeks, the blown pupils, the lips that had been all over her skin. At her best friend. She felt the pressure of him, still right there. Felt the heat in her cheeks, the racing of her heart, the way her thighs clenched tight without meaning to.

“I can’t,” she rasped, throat tight.

He nodded. Instantly. Pulled his hips back. “Okay.”

“I want to, but—I just…”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, face burning.

“Don’t be.”

“I thought I could but—”

“Hey.” His voice was soft now. Calming. “It's okay. I get it.”

She looked at him. Really looked.

And what hit her hardest wasn’t disappointment or frustration—it was the absence of it. He wasn’t angry. Didn't look bitter or impatient. He just remained still, like he was giving her space to breathe, letting the moment settle without putting more weight on it.

Maybe that’s what made the guilt feel worse.

Her skin still tingled from the way he touched her. Her body was still wound tight from the high he gave her, and he hadn’t gotten anything in return. He’d given her so much—his hands, his patience, his restraint—and she’d unraveled completely under him, only to stop short. She felt raw. Vulnerable. Embarrassed. And above all, selfish.

He kissed her forehead, slow and lingering, and pulled the covers over her exposed body.

The act was so gentle it nearly broke her.

“Thanks for stopping,” she murmured, barely a whisper.

“Hey,” he started. But his voice, although mostly gentle, was laced with something serious. “Don’t ever thank anyone for that. Promise?"

Her throat tightened. She forced a nod.

He laid back beside her, one arm slipping beneath her shoulders, tugging her gently into the space beside him. No questions. No pressure. Just his steady presence.

She didn’t know what she expected—to cry, maybe. Or for him to roll over and distance himself. But instead, he did the opposite. He held her in silence like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t just flipped the entire dynamic between them on its head.

She curled into him, tucking her face into the crook of his neck, too ashamed to look him in the eye. His scent was still on her skin. Her pulse was still racing, her body still warm—and yet her chest felt hollow.

His hand rested on her back, moving slowly in comforting strokes that made her feel fragile. Not in a bad way. Just… a bit vulnerable.

The room was quiet for a long while.

Then, his voice—

“Did I scare you?”

Her eyes, drooping slightly like she might fall asleep, immediately shot open.

She debated moving so she could look at him. But Suna didn't move. Just stayed where he was, breathing steadily, his thumb still brushing small circles against her spine. But it was his voice that gave him away. Quiet. Careful. Laced with something unspoken. Guilt, maybe. Or doubt.

Her chest ached.

“No,” she said softly. “You’d never scare me.”

And she meant it.

But she didn’t know how to explain the rest—that it wasn’t fear holding her back, but the opposite. That it was the feelings she had buried, the ones she had never voiced that made her back down. The ones that had clawed their way back to the surface the moment he touched her tonight.

She swallowed, choosing her words wisely.

“It just… felt like a lot, all at once.”

A pause.

Then a quiet hum from him. Not disbelieving, not dismissive—just thoughtful. Like he’d been hoping for more, but wouldn’t ask.

Instead, he just pulled her closer.

His hand settled again on her back, firm and grounding. Like he was telling her, wordlessly, that he was still here. That nothing had changed.

She let herself believe it.

[witchslove]

Watch Me

Pairing: Camgirl!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: When Wanda gets an interesting request from one of her viewers, she asks you to help her out.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; bottom!wanda, top!reader, piss kink, mentions of smut

A/N: Just a fun little blurb in the camgirl Wanda universe. This fic contains piss kink, you have been warned.

Blurb from “The Camgirl Next Door” | Series Masterlist

——————————

Ever since you and Wanda had made your relationship official, you’d been helping her out with a lot of her streams.

It was new and exciting and it turned both of you on immensely.

Sometimes you’d star in her shows, fucking her on camera for her viewers to see. You never showed your face, however, and Wanda was okay with your decision to remain anonymous.

She also had you help her film content pretty often, finding it even more arousing to have you watching her from behind the camera while she touched herself.

The paid requests were usually pretty tame - viewers wanted to see Wanda edge herself, overstimulate herself, or make herself cum with different toys - and you were glad to help, always enjoying the view that came with it.

One particular request had Wanda feeling nervous to ask for your help.

Someone had asked her to piss on camera. She’d never filmed anything like that before, but she wasn’t opposed to it.

She just didn’t know how to ask you to film it. She didn’t know how you would react either, or how awkward it might be to pee in front of you. You’d made her squirt before, many times at that, but this was different.

There were so many variables that made her nervous, but what really caught her off guard was that the thought of you watching her do it actually turned her on.

She never considered that she might be into such a thing. The thought had never crossed her mind, let alone accompanied by so much arousal. She came to the conclusion that it wasn’t so much the act that turned her on - it was you specifically. The thought of you watching her while she was so vulnerable made her core throb.

Days went by before she finally mustered up the courage to bring it up to you, unsure of why she was so nervous when you were always nothing but understanding.

The two of you were making out on the couch, her in your lap, the movie you’d put on long forgotten, when she decided to take the leap. “Oh, I wanted to talk to you about something,” she started, breaking the kiss. “I got a new request and I need your help with it.”

Your interest piqued at her words. “Go on,” you encouraged, your hands resting on her waist as she spoke.

“It’s kind of a weird request but I think I want to do it, I just can’t really get the camera angle right on my own and you’re always so good at it,” she rambled before stopping to take a breath.

“Someone paid me to pee on camera,” she blurted out, biting her lip immediately after the words left her mouth.

You took a moment to process what she said and Wanda held her breath.

“I- wow, that’s… something,” you managed to get out, unsure of how you felt about it, but unable to deny the heat that spread through your body at the idea. “Of course I’ll help you, my love. You know I’ll never turn down an opportunity to see you naked,” you joked, alleviating some of the tension.

Wanda chuckled, relieved that you weren’t judgmental, not that she thought you would be in the first place.

“Okay,” she said, smiling down at you. “Thank you.” She leaned in to kiss you softly. “Could we do it later today? I got the request a few days ago and I’ve kept them waiting a while.”

“Of course baby,” you responded, not pressing her on why she didn’t bring it up sooner. You figured she probably hadn’t decided if it was something she was comfortable with until now.

“Guess I should start drinking water,” she jested, giving you one last kiss before getting up to go to the kitchen.

A few hours later, she was ready. She pulled you aside and led you to the bathroom, where she’d already set things up for you. You grabbed her camera and microphone from the countertop while she undressed before waiting for further instruction.

She positioned herself in the bathtub so that she was half sitting on one of the edges, her legs spread and pussy exposed.

You practically drooled at the sight. No matter how many times you’d seen your girlfriend on display for you, it still had the same effect every time.

“You ready?” She asked, wincing slightly at the fullness of her bladder.

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, pressing record.

Wanda looked at you for reassurance and found only desire in your gaze. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip before she relaxed and let go.

What started out as a trickle turned into a steady stream of piss, splattering slightly as it came in contact with the tub. Wanda let out a breath of relief and closed her eyes at the feeling of releasing after holding it in for so long.

When she opened her eyes, a pang of arousal shot through her at what she saw.

You were entranced. Your gaze was fixated on her pussy and the clear liquid streaming out of her, your mouth open the slightest bit, pupils dilated.

She hadn’t expected you to be so turned on from watching her pee, but it was exhilarating. The way you were looking at her was making her feel hot all over.

You didn’t know what to expect going into this, but you certainly weren’t expecting your view to be this hot. You couldn’t help but stare, your arousal growing with every second that passed.

Wanda was pissing in front of you and it was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen.

Part of you wanted to toss the camera to the side and kneel in front of her as she let go, but you had one job and you were going to do it right.

When you looked up at Wanda’s face, she was staring at you intently with a smirk adorning her perfect features. You knew at that moment that you’d been caught, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Rarely did you ever rewatch the videos you made together, since you always had the real thing right in front of you, but you had a feeling you’d be coming back to this one.

Your eyes fell back down, watching as piss continued to flow from her pussy, almost letting out a whimper at the sight.

As her stream died down, you noticed you were practically panting and tried to control your breathing. Luckily, the mic was above her and not you.

You stopped recording and looked away, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Wanda spoke first, teasing you.

You couldn’t lie to her. “Yeah,” you managed, still avoiding eye contact. “That was…”

“Hot,” she finished, causing you to look up at her.

“Yeah,” you breathed out in agreement, not sure what else to say.

“Come here,” she said softly, leaning forward, and you met her halfway.

She kissed you, letting her tongue slip into your mouth for a moment before pulling away. “We can talk about it later,” she mumbled against your lips. “Right now, I need you to fuck me.”

You grunted at her words, nodding eagerly and kissing her again with more fervor. You picked her up, setting her against the wall, and did exactly as she asked.

She came three times before you stripped down as well and joined her for a shower, kissing languidly as you washed each other.

The two of you eventually discussed what had transpired, acknowledging that you both enjoyed it and deciding to do it again in the future.

The next morning, Wanda left the door open when she went to the bathroom just to tease you, letting you hear her stream and giving you a partial view of her legs spread on the toilet. This woman was going to be the death of you.

Two weeks later, she peed on you in the shower and you touched yourself under her stream, coming undone before she was even finished.

Wanda was no longer nervous to ask you for help with her more unique requests, nor was she nervous to explore new kinks with you, which you were also grateful for.

What started out as a weird request from one of Wanda’s viewers turned out to be an undiscovered kink brought to light in your relationship, and the two of you had never felt closer to each other.

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 7: BL Is Over Its Piners

It’s been quite a while since I wrote one of these. I’ve been watching a lot less, but I wanted to jump back in and meditate on the state of pining in BL, and also comment on how things haven’t felt this sparse in BL since maybe 2019 for me. 

I’ve noticed in some of the shows I’ll discuss below that piners are no longer universally lauded for the purity or sanctity of their one-sided crushes or obsessions, and instead have been confronted or challenged by the narrative. This is a fascinating (and honestly necessarily) evolution for the genre. Let’s get into it, in no particular order…starting with the worst.

Something’s Not Right is Appropriately Named

Adapted from the same source material as Blueming (2022), this show follows stressed piner Do Ba Woo and his crush on his childhood friend Ji Hoon. Ba Woo is at his wit’s end with the vivacious Ji Hoon and wants to end their friendship. Ji Hoon, responding as any man would to their best friend suddenly wanting to sever ties, ignores this and wonders what might be wrong. 

Meanwhile, interloper Jung Ha Min discovers Ba Woo’s diary and misunderstands it as a novel. He pesters Ba Woo into finishing the novel so he can use it for a webtoon, and encourages Ba Woo to ask Ji Hoon out for a week. When Ji Hoon surprisingly agrees, Ba Woo goes on to torment this confused man for a week with hot and cold behavior, rejecting Ji Hoon’s own confessions, and facing no realization about his own role in his misery before the story retcons the drama by saying Ji Hoon was withholding his own feelings the whole time.

Final Verdict: 4, Not Recommended. Friends, this show is a mess that also apparently erased its original supporting cast (@lurkingshan and @ahxiang). It fails to understand that Ba Woo is the problem here in that he’s constantly confusing Ji Hoon and treating him cruelly. It fails as a romance for me because I didn’t even want the guys to be friends by the end, and spent most of the show baffled by the apparent determination to make Ba Woo vibe with Ha Min. I also deeply-resent the show retconning Ji Hoon in the final episode by having him have also been nursing an older crush. At no point does Ba Woo grow from any of the events he’s encountered to reckon with the fact that he’s the one causing all of their problems. This was an unusually frustrating viewing experience that I do not recommend. 

While I do think this show wanted to tackle the intensity of unrequited feelings, I don’t think it did right by Ji Hoon at all. This show completely misses the mark on saying or doing anything interesting with one-sided pining and its impacts on both and related parties. Ba Woo was a rude, misanthropic friend, and this show was more concerned with Jung Ha Min developing his own unrequited crush than the believability of the romantic connection between its leads. ONE CHOP.

Business as Usual Should Have Remembered that Our Dating Sim Exists

I’ve been thinking about how elegantly Our Dating Sim incorporated the game development work into the second chance romance after finishing Business as Usual. Business worsens the conflict by having the guys be actively dating and FUCKING as our mad piner, Kim Min Joon, severs ties with Jin Hwan over a misunderstanding. Min Joon essentially stagnates for  eight years before Jin Hwan joins the same company. Jin Hwan is clearly still interested in Min Joon, and we eventually learn that Min Joon badly misunderstood a call he overheard and ghosted his boyfriend for no valid reason. 

My primary difficulty with this show is that it doesn’t want to spend time on the work Min Joon needs to do to earn its wedding epilogue. We recently finished the Theory of Love Romcom Rewatch, and this is something I’ve been thinking about a lot in the wake of dealing with Third again (probably helped by the uncanny resemblance between Chae Jong Hyeok and Gun Atthaphan). Compare this to Our Dating Sim, in which Lee Wan came face-to-face with the separation anxiety Shin Ki Tae developed after being ghosted, Min Joon mostly faces one tough conversation with a mutual friend that inspires Min Joon to do a dramatic run to the airport to say that, despite their differences, he wants to commit. I didn’t buy it.

Final Verdict: 5, Rewatch Our Dating Sim instead. I will grant this show that it did seem to understand that Min Joon was the major problem here, but it doesn’t know what he needs to do to make things right between them. I also want to give this show credit for letting the men have sex even though they hadn’t solved all of the problems between them. However, they failed to use their dating advice book conceit to help with the arc of the relationship at all, nor did they address the way Min Joon’s avoidant behavior led to him also being a bad supervisor. I generally struggle with second chance romances like this where the wrong party doesn’t go on a growth arc and face the reality that they hurt the person they loved. TWO CHOPS.

Gelboys Finally Gave Me Another Thai BL Built Around Internal Drama

I’ve been sitting on what I want to say about Gelboys for quite a while now due to my frustrations with the fast happy ending for both couples. While I don’t think that was wholly earned, I do want to praise this show for making the boys’ affection/obsession with each other the primary source of drama and driver of the narrative. Too often, I find that Thai BL relies on external sources of tension or romantic obstacles rather than face the fundamental personality issues that make the relationship difficult or impossible. 

In Gelboys, we have a quartet of boys who like someone in the group in a way that the other can’t or refuses to reciprocate. Fou4Mod wants someone (notably Chian) to choose him fully. Chian wants to be with Bua, and wants to use Fou4Mod to make Bua jealous. Baabin wants to be with Fou4Mod, but won’t confess. Bua eventually wants to be with Baabin, but Baabin won’t let go of his crush on Fou4Mod. They all end up making each other miserable. 

Friends, the misery of this show was delectable in a way that felt fresh after this creative team’s last major BL outing of I Told Sunset About You. It was interesting to see them completely avoid the conversation around sexuality in this show in favor of a focus on trains and youth freedom to play at malls to focus on how young people use internet tools to torment themselves and each other. I remember vividly the social moors of the MySpace top 8 friends feature, and I was obsessed with the way the kids used the Close Friends feature of Instagram to carefully show off information to their crushes. I was also deeply mortified by Chian asking ChatGPT for relationship advice, and Fou4Mod using a generative AI to make a fake makeout video. The digital landscape is dark!

On the pining front, each of these boys is such an asshole about the boy they’re pining over. Chian wants Bua, and is cruel to Fou4Mod for it. Baabin essentially ends his own friendship with Fou4Mod rather than confess properly. Bua finally pursued Baabin properly, and is the only one to properly apologize for the pain he inflicted on another over the course of this. This show was plain about how withholding feelings and using people’s feelings against them led to such cruel outcomes. Unfortunately, it rushed a happy ending that soured my taste at the end. 

Final Verdict: 9, Highly Recommended. This show is for those people who want to see what youth urban romance feels like in the modern era. There are so many ideas about how consumption plays into dating and flirting, particularly around the way the boys chose to have their nails painted (or not painted). It was really something special to have a show where what the characters wanted was the source of all of their issues, rather than an interloper inflicting contrived drama on the pair. In a year where I can’t seem to finish a Thai BL, this is a bright spot. 

Heesu in Class 2 Understood Unrequited Love

Heesu in Class 2 explores the impacts of two queer boys having unrequited crushes, and why these boys have avoided confessing. Of all the shows about boys I watched in recent months, this one felt the most queer to me. This was such a visceral experience for many readers who were able to appreciate the role of Heesu’s sisters (@soypim), the way admissions like Heesu’s will forever change your dynamic (@nabi-unveiled), the ways this show grappled with one-sided love (@wanderlust-in-my-soul), and how shows like this remind us why we seek out queer media (@watchingblsnowandforever).

While we had disagreement about whether this show’s divergence from the source material was worthy, I still think we got a great drama out of this AND I think viewers who want to see Heesu and Seungwon’s dating era should read the webtoon; I don’t think it’s a one or the other situation here. The webtoon is well-intentioned, and I think it’s a worthwhile read for people curious about how a simple narrative can be expanded into a full drama.

Final Verdict: 10, Don’t Miss This One. More than anything, I want to praise everyone involved with making this show. I loved the way they navigated turning this webtoon into a gay kdrama, and I hope the delays in releasing this don’t spell an end for this type of approach from Korea. I especially want to praise Ahn Ji Ho for his stellar performance as Hee Su. I loved this show immensely, and it’s currently my favorite of the year. This show is going to feel different from what romance viewers of BL content are used to, but it’s a really special show that tells you what it’s about and then delivers on it.

Fragrance of the First Flower Season 2

I am so glad we were able to return to these two after so many years. I’ve been struggling with the global state of GL, and this is the only bright spot I had this year. I loved seeing these two try again after their breakup. Yi Ming was able to divorce her husband, but she’s still working through so much to figure out if she can have a proper relationship with Ting Ting. I also loved the way this show used its second lead as a way to further Ting Ting’s steadfast devotion to her relationship while still respecting the feelings of a friend. Some of the boys above could have used that lesson. 

Final Verdict: 9, Highly Recommended. Seriously, just go watch it. We don’t get enough good lesbian shows, and this one cares a lot about lesbian realities while still managing to be kind to the characters and the viewers. 

Fellow Travelers Has Me Back in America (6/8)

I wasn’t kidding after Heesu when I said it might be time for me to stop identifying so much with BL and return to my roots. This show follows the lives of four queer characters and their families starting in the McCarthy era of government employment into the AIDS crisis of the 1980s. It explores the validity of queer love and the difficult realities about pursuing them across more than 30 years. Anchored by absolutely stellar performances from the entire cast, it is my biggest queer obsession right now. 

I originally avoided Fellow Travelers because it was a Showtime exclusive and, while I love Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey, I wasn’t in the mood for white gays surviving the McCarthy era. Unfortunately for this show, the fans making fan content about this show failed to highlight that there’s an interesting Black couple in this show that are also exploring issues around race and gender in queer relationships. I also didn’t know that the series takes place in the 1980s as well.

What I have found so compelling about this show is how much information we have about where everyone is. We know who is alive in the AIDS crisis of the 80s. We know who chooses to marry into heteronormativity and who doesn’t. We learn who knows about who. This makes our time in the past far more compelling because now you’re paying attention to how people end up where they are not if they’ll even survive. I just finished an episode involving the son of a gay man and I am compelled to continue.

2 Husbands 1 Wife is Actually a Poly Show (5/10)

Featuring Asaka Kodai of Cherry Magic’s Tsuge, this show explores an attempt at a three-person marriage involving Yanaguchi Mia, Satomura Shinpei, and Mitsuda Takuzo. Mia, an office worker, wants to marry Shinpei, a dancer. However, Shinpei doesn’t think the two of them are big enough adults to make a marriage work, and so he proposes adding a third person to help them. After attending the funeral for Takuzo’s (and at one time Mia’s) rabbit, Shinpei proposes they approach Takuzo (who is Mia’s ex) to be part of their trio. Initially hesitant, the three are going closer during their trial period. 

What’s so compelling for me about this one is how seriously the show is taking the potential around sex, public appearances, affection and jealousy within the trio, and family management. As of episode 5 and the preview for 6, we’re even exploring Mia having to reckon with the fact that the two husbands will inevitably have a relationship with each other as well, following the fact that Shinpei was clear to Takuzo that they will be husbands as far as he’s concerned. This show has managed to accomplish so much in its 20-minute episodes, and I find myself eager to watch it on Thursday evenings on my nicest TV.

Top Form is as Sappy as Its Source Material (8/11)

I haven’t written about this one, mostly because I remember watching Dakaiichi years ago. While I have my own qualms about the changes the Thai show has made, especially when it comes to the timeline, I honestly think I’m just not enjoying the sappiness of the project this time around. That is not the fault of this show, which is actually accurately capturing how sappy Dakaiichi was. I was also turned off by their decision to basically adapt the assault storyline exactly as the original. Mostly, I’ve struggled with the sex for love politics of the Thai version in a way that I think has weakened the original Japanese narrative. It’s a personal issue I’m having, and I think if you’re curious about the show, you should check it out.

Dropped Shows

Look, I just can’t do it anymore. If the show doesn’t hit, I’m letting it go. GMMTV is the biggest loser here. Since the last blurb I’ve dropped:

My Golden Blood (1/12) - It’s not sexy enough, and the chemistry is deeply lacking.

Ossan’s Love Thailand (8/12) - It started to offend me, so I dropped it.

Break Up Service (3/12) - Off is good. The show is not.

Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist (1/12) - How could they do this to Mark Pakin?

The Bangkok Boy (1/12) - I want an action BL. This isn’t hitting.

The Boy Next World (9/10) - Things went stupid, so it got dropped.

Boys In Love (1/12) - This kind of saccharine isn’t hitting for me right now.

The Age of Pining is Over. Now is the Time For Earnestness

The biggest thing I’m thinking about right now is how many shows engaged with the negative side of unrequited pining this year. As a Known Piner, I am all for this. All piners must understand that they must face the mortifying ordeal of being known if they want to experience the benefits of being loved. It’s also important that we grapple with how withholding our feelings from the people we love leads to confusion, resentment, and possessiveness. I’m thankful that in Heesu in Class 2 we got to see all the contexts of why queer people would withhold those feelings and how it hurts everyone, and I’m glad Gelboys was willing to be so visceral about the ways young people love and hurt each other in the digital age. I’m curious what comes out of the other side of this if we start to see something more earnest. Perhaps we’ll get something as heartfelt and beautiful as When Life Gives You Tangerines.

But also...seriously...where is Japan? It hasn't felt this dire in almost 6 years.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Ohh for the prompt maybe Edwin & Crystal friendship with number 11!?!?

Thank you for the prompt! I combined it with a paraphrased version of #28, which @coraline-piange requested for Edwin and Crystal.

11. “They shouldn’t treat you like that.”

28. “...I don’t hate you.” “...you don’t?”

Edwin finds her hiding out on the balcony, huddled in the dark while inside, music plays and her parents and their friends laugh and mingle. Crystal is torn between being annoyed that he followed her and being secretly, shamefully relieved. She wishes he hadn’t showed up in the middle of the party to ask her about a case, wishes that he hadn’t just seen her mother lay into her while all her parents' friends watched and tittered. But if he is here, she’s glad that he didn’t leave her alone.

He doesn’t say anything for several minutes, just folds his hands on top of the balcony railing and stays quiet. They stand side by side, watching the lights of the city far below. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wails and Crystal wonders if there will be a new ghost showing up at the Agency’s doors soon.

“They shouldn’t treat you like that,” Edwin finally says.

Crystal swallows back a snappish reply. Instead, she says, “What she said wasn’t totally wrong. I did burn every bridge my parents ever built for me. I’m the one who got kicked out of every fancy school they sent me to and alienated all my friends and made sure no college will ever let me in unless my parents toss a ton of money at them.”

“Perhaps you would have burnt less bridges if you hadn’t been left alone with so many matches.” There’s a bite to Edwin’s voice.

She snorts. “Why do you think they leave me alone so much? It’s because I’m kind of the worst.”

“That isn’t true.”

“You know it is. You hate me.” Her voice cracks embarrassingly.

“Crystal.” His voice goes gentle in a way that’s so un-Edwin-like that she has to turn to make sure it’s really him. He’s looking down at her with a worried crease in his brow. “Of course I don’t hate you. Do you really think I do?”

Crystal can’t bring herself to answer.

“I find you difficult, stubborn, and often exasperating, but I do not hate you.”

She lets out a hoarse laugh. “Yeah, because you’re famously not any of those things.”

“Charles did once say that you and I are a lot alike.”

“He did not.”

“He did.”

“He’s lucky he’s cute,” she mutters, which gets a soft laugh from Edwin.

“I realize that you seem to think you were some sort of monster before you lost your memories.” He holds up a hand to cut off her reply. “But I’ve never known you to be anything but kind and compassionate to those who are in need of it. You are a real asset to the Agency, Crystal, and I’ve come to be glad of your presence.”

Crystal thinks she might cry, which is just so fucking embarrassing. After everything else tonight, she doesn’t need to cry in front of Edwin Payne.

“And I don’t think your mother knows you half as well as she seems to think,” he adds. “Given that you were in Port Townsend for weeks without her or your father noticing you were missing. In the month since we returned to London, I can count on one hand the number of nights you’ve slept at their house. Mostly, you’ve slept on a couch in an abandoned building in the company of two boys that your parents do not know. Perhaps your mother should spend less time bemoaning the bridges you’ve burned and spend more time thinking about her own behavior.”

Crystal turns her face away so he won’t see the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Crystal,” Edwin says. “Truly. You deserve better.”

“Yeah, well.” She clears her throat and shrugs. “I bet they’d say they deserved a better daughter.”

“I cannot imagine they would have treated a ‘better’ daughter with any more care than they’ve treated you.”

“Maybe not. But maybe they would’ve wanted to.” Surreptitiously, Crystal wipes her eyes. “What were your parents like?”

Edwin is silent for a moment and she wonders if she’s said the wrong thing. Finally, he says, “My father had very few interests outside of hunting, hounds, and women. Since I shared none of those interests, we had little to say to each other. He got on much better with my older brothers, who were very much cut from the same cloth. When he did pay me any mind, it was usually to make sure I knew what a disappointment I was.”

“He sounds like an asshole.”

“Perhaps,” Edwin says. “My mother was better, I think. She liked to read. She used to read to me, until my father put a stop to it. He worried her novels would make me soft.”

“Jesus Christ.” Crystal wants to reach back a hundred years in the past and shake Edwin’s father.

“He never thought I would make anything of myself. I do wonder what he would think, if he were here.”

“I think he’d be proud of you.”

“Unlikely, but thank you.” There’s an edge of ruefulness in his voice. “Running a detective agency for ghosts is certainly not what he would consider an accomplishment. Particularly since I do not have a single hound or mistress.”

Crystal snorts. “Charles says he tried to convince you to get a puppy back in ‘94.”

“He does enjoy bringing home strays.” He doesn’t need to add the silent, “like you.”

“Do you miss them?” Crystal asks.

“Sometimes,” he says after another brief pause. “But I miss who they were when I was small, before I realized what a disappointment I was to them. If that makes sense?”

“It does.” She nods. “It’s like how I miss who I thought my parents were when I didn’t have my memories. When I thought they missed me and were looking for me.”

“I’m sorry they aren’t the parents you thought they were.”

“Yeah.” Crystal wipes her eyes again. “And I’m sorry yours were shitty too.”

Edwin blows out a breath.

Her lips twitch. “Too much emotion for one night?”

“Far too much.”

From inside the penthouse, there’s a burst of shouting.

“Ah.” Edwin sounds smug. “Perhaps we should take our leave now.”

Crystal turns to stare at him. He’s wearing the little smile that he only gets when he knows he just cracked a case open. Or when Charles compliments him. “What did you do?”

“There was an unfortunate incident involving a bottle of wine and one of your mother’s paintings.”

Crystal slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle her laugh. “Which one?”

“That hideously tacky self-portrait.” At her incredulous look, he shrugs. “I didn’t care for the way she spoke to you. And in front of guests, too.”

“You know that self-portrait was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, right?”

“Absurd. I wouldn’t trade it for Charles’s jar of bees.” Edwin sniffs. “Anyway, I’m a ghost. Even if she could see me, what is she going to do, sue me?”

The shouting inside gets louder.

“Yeah, we should definitely get out of here,” Crystal says.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He holds an arm out to her. “There’s a case to solve, after all.”

She links her arm through his. “Thanks.”

Edwin flashes a small, pleased smile. “It was my pleasure.”

*** 

Angst and Hurt/Comfort Prompts

I'm going to try and do more prompt fills here on Tumblr in the future, time depending, so if anyone would like to be added to a tag list, please let me know!

[skarlaya]

8x17 Reaction

I’ve seen some… interesting takes on the episode, so I thought I’d share my thoughts after watching it twice because I think in the heat of the moment some people misconstrued a lot of what went down during the kitchen argument. This is going to be long so sorry about that in advance:

1- Eddie did not “almost raise a hand” to Buck, not even close. I watched this scene again multiple times after seeing the appalling takes people were sharing online… and they are completely unfounded. He grabbed his shoulder a little roughly (probably more roughly than Eddie himself intended to) and pointed a finger in his face… was this jarring? Yes. Was it violent? Absolutely fucking NOT. Could someone who has a history of trauma be triggered by that split second rough movement? Of course… just like I’m sure there are people who get trigged by something weekly on this show. If Eddie grabbing Buck’s shoulder while angry triggered you, then I can only imagine how triggered you must have been by Bobby slamming Buck into a wall in S1 while threatening him, and Chimney punching Buck to the floor in S5, Athena slapping Harry or Buck nearly breaking Eddie’s ankle because he was so caught up in his jealousy that he wasn’t in full control of himself while playing basketball. None of these actions make these main characters violent abusers. You know who was a violent abuser? Doug. There’s no comparison.

2- Buck was not afraid of Eddie in this scene and he did not flinch; we don’t even see Buck’s face when Eddie gets in his space but his head does not jerk back and he doesn’t move away, nor does his face show any sign of fear or discomfort when the camera cuts to his face when Eddie steps back. He doesn’t even show annoyance or anger about it, because he never for a second was worried Eddie would hit him

3- Eddie was not the only one being a dick in this argument. Buck came home with groceries that he picked up despite knowing Eddie intended to do the shopping, and he did that intentionally because he was mad that he found out Eddie got the EPFD job from Ravi. He’s mad and hurt that Eddie is leaving again but deep down he knew he would be, mostly he’s just mad and hurt that Eddie yet again didn’t tell him he was leaving (and this time he told other people first). Buck and Eddie have very distinct patterns when they argue and those are on full display here: Buck is passive aggressive with his intentional remarks and prods at Eddie to get a reaction, and Eddie lashes out and says harsh things

4- What leads Eddie to point his finger in Buck’s face is that Buck accuses Eddie of not being sad enough over Bobby’s death when he passive aggressively says “I’m sorry I’m sad that Bobby’s dead”. This is not Buck defending his own grief, this is him attacking Eddie’s grief by saying Eddie isn’t sad enough or not as sad as Buck. That accusation is what makes Eddie lose his cool for half a second, which is exactly what Buck intended because arguing with Eddie is easier than dealing with their shared grief

5- Buck actually IS making everything all about him right now, and I admit on my first watch I was pretty annoyed with Eddie for this line but on my rewatch it was obvious that Eddie is right. I think it’s hard for us to see that at first because we identify with Buck’s grief easier since Bobby was our “captain dad” like he was for Buck, and we also felt Buck’s helplessness at watching Bobby die. Leading up to the funeral, Buck was leaning on Maddie somewhat and was there to talk Chim into attending the funeral, but it seems like once the funeral was over and there were no more items on the checklist to get through he caved in on himself. We don’t see him reaching out to Athena or May or Harry to ask what they need or looking for ways to support them… he isn’t talking to Hen about her unique experience of having been in the lab quarantine with Bobby vs his own guilt over not being able to save them all or trying to help Chim cope with the knowledge that Bobby chose Chim’s life over his own… he isn’t letting Eddie work through the guilt over not being there when they needed him (and in light of this scene, it adds new context to Buck’s light and dismissive “hey, you’re here now” when Eddie told Ravi he should have been there… Eddie is trying to reach out and Buck is dismissing his pain, without realizing it). Ever since the funeral, he is spiraling exactly as Eddie said… he’s seeing the fact that the 118 isn’t eating together as his family abandoning him instead of recognizing that they all just need some time to process their grief in their own ways. He’s evaluating his friends to give their grief a score, and subconsciously he’s judging their grief scores against his own and each other’s instead of opening up and sharing their grief together. And he’s not happy for Eddie about the EPFD job, even though he would have tried to be before Bobby’s death (as much as it made him sad to think Eddie really wasn’t coming back now)… he’s judging Eddie for leaving again even though he knew Eddie would have to go back to Chris eventually, because how can Eddie leave him again after Bobby died, how can Eddie just move on when Bobby is dead? And he automatically accused Eddie of not thinking he did enough to save Bobby, when what Eddie is saying is that he blames himself for not being there when the team needed him. Grief is selfish, because it’s impossible for your feelings not to hang over everything else including how you think you’re looking after your loved ones. Buck is trying to live up to what Bobby told him in that the others would need him, but the way he is going about it is all wrong - he’s focusing on it through making sure he’s doing enough and not on what anyone (including himself) actually needs.

6- Eddie did not imply that Buck didn’t do all he could to save Bobby, that is not what “I don’t know, Buck, I wasn’t there” means. It’s not Eddie doubting Buck, it’s Eddie voicing yet again that he blames himself because he wasn’t there. He knows Buck did everything he could, but he also knows they can’t know how things would have gone if Eddie had been there inside the lab. But Buck has been so focused on his own grief that he still isn’t hearing Eddie when Eddie is trying to get him to understand how much he’s hurting over not being there so Eddie throws out a passive aggressive parting shot of his own

7- We’re not going to see a more in-depth apology for the kitchen argument because it’s not necessary for the narrative and we can assume they had a discussion off-camera in which Eddie reiterated that he was a dick and didn’t mean to be so harsh, and Buck in turn apologized for intentionally provoking a fight and being cruel with his passive aggressive words. They’re both at fault- Buck started the argument on purpose and Eddie ended it by being slightly more of an asshole. When Buck came home to find that Eddie came back, he forgave him instantly simply because Eddie came back - he saw him at his worst (see passive aggressive cruelty) and he came back anyway. He was absolutely going to still be a petty bitch about the note right up until he saw Chris, but he’d forgiven Eddie the moment he realized Eddie came back

8- The note was petty AF but Eddie is petty as is Buck. I’m sure Tim and the writers wanted the symbolism of Buck waking up to a goodbye note from Eddie like Eddie did from Shannon, but where Shannon never came home Eddie came back to Buck and he brought Chris. Buck should absolutely be a petty bitch about the note from time to time, though, because it’s Buck

Grief is messy, but like Buck once said to Maddie you lash out at the people you know will always forgive you (the people who love you). That’s simply a part of human nature, we’re flawed creatures.

[plaguedocboi]

I have to share the drama that’s been going on lately in my large fish tank and I think you’ll find it amusing as a fish person.

To set the scenario a while back discovered purely by chance that my male spotted silver dollar goes ham for Tetra brand corywafers (basically a small sinking disk wafer with a shrimp meal centre and an outer ring of vitamin/mineral blend) he’ll grab them and hold them in his mouth like an anime girl with toast running late for school.

This guy chews these while spinning them so he’s basically eating around the edges until it’s gone. His female partner initially tried one when she saw him with one but didn’t end up eating it. Until a couple months back when she suddenly decides actually she does like these.

These two wait each night below the spot where I drop these in to grab their ‘biscuit’. This of course drew the attention of some of the other fish in the tank who hadn’t previously been eating these (namely my angelfish pair and my gourami)

The gourami has no concept of manners and steals the biscuits right from the silver dollar’s mouths (not to mention touching everyone and everything in the tank every chance it gets). The female fights back via stealing the biscuit back again so it ends up going back and forth until one fish forfeits but the male is a pushover and just lets it happen and sits there looking like he’s wondering where his snack just dissapeared to.

Eventually he learned to hurry up and chew his down quickly to a point it’s small enough he can suck it entirely into his mouth and started sucking it in to hide it whenever he noticed the gourami headed his way and would spit it back out once the gourami had left.

About a month ago the angelfish decided they were going to try these biscuits so they’ve been attempting to copy the silver dollars method with mixed success due to their differing mouth structures.

Tonight however I saw one of these angelfish ‘sneak’ up behind the male silver dollar, produce a knocking sound (which I’ve since learned these fish can make and had been wondering for years now where tf that knocking keeps coming from all the time) this startles the silver dollar into dropping his biscuit which is then promptly stolen by said angelfish.

I knew angelfish were pretty clever but hadn’t realised HOW clever until this shrimp wafer drama started and have watched them learn and plot theft

(Meanwhile the Cory catfish these wafers were initially dropped in for still get ones I drop in a different spot of the tank where they wait and so far have avoided the drama)

Damn… I didn’t expect them to have a brain given how flat they are

[kier-with-a-k]

LAST NIGHT - M.S.

A/N: first fic! Omg I'm so happy to share this! I hope y'all enjoy this one!

Warning: death, angst, I think that's all

Not proofred!

--- Y/N's POV ---

It’s 6:59 PM, and I’m walking into a club. A little early, I know — but you can’t really blame me. I cough into my hand as the sharp scent of alcohol hits me like a truck. The place isn’t alive yet, but a few people are already scattered around, nursing their drinks and waiting for the night to begin.

I’ve convinced myself I’m going out tonight. No backing down... not that I really can. A week ago, they told me I only had one week to live.

And today... today is the last day.

---

7:00 PM.

The clock on the wall flips to 7:00, and my chest tightens. I don’t know if it’s this tight top cutting off my circulation or something deeper.

Everything feels off — like I’m floating outside my own body, watching someone else live my life. None of this feels real.

I wander the club, heels clicking against the floor, until my eyes land on a man sitting alone.

He’s strange-looking — not in a bad way. Attractive, even. But there’s something about him that feels... unraveling.

I adjust my tight black leather skirt as I walk toward him. Normally, I don’t dress up. But tonight... I kind of have to.

He’s surrounded by empty bottles, and judging by his slumped posture, he’s been drinking for a while.

I open my mouth to speak —

“He—”

“Go away,” he cuts me off sharply, voice flat.

Not exactly a "talk to me" tone.

Who the hell does he think he is? But since it is my last day on Earth... I decide to be a little menace.

My lips tug into a smirk.

“Day drinking, huh?”

“Day drinking? It’s fucking 7:05 PM.”

I grin wider. “Didn’t think you were gonna talk to me, Mr. Grumpy.”

He groans — it’s sharp, but weak at the edges. Tired.

Silence falls between us. Ten seconds pass before I sit beside him like I belong there.

I scan the crowd. The club’s still relatively tame, but the bitter smell of liquor clings to the air.

“What do you want?” he asks suddenly, snapping me out of my people-watching.

I turn to him, studying his face.

His eyes are impossibly blue — the kind that pull you in. But they’re ringed with dark circles, and his skin looks pale under the low lights.

He looks exhausted.

“What do you want?” he repeats, more impatient now.

I cough — louder this time. He notices.

“You know you really shouldn’t be here,” he mutters. That same voice — weak, but not soft. Like a storm he’s trying to keep inside.

I grin at him. “You seem really concerned.”

“I don’t care. Do whatever you want with your life. Just leave me alone.”

---

7:30 PM.

It’s been half an hour since I sat down next to him. He still hasn’t said much.

I glance at his outfit again — plain white button-down, creased and slightly damp from sweat and spilled whiskey. The collar is askew, like he stopped caring halfway through the day. Or halfway through life.

“You look incredibly sad,” I say, folding one leg over the other, letting my heel dangle off the tip of my toe like I don’t notice how bold I’m being.

He scoffs, takes a long breath. Doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Do you always talk this much?”

“Nope,” I pop, “just when I’m around people who look like they need saving.”

He shoots me a glare — the kind meant to cut. But the edges are dull. There's something in it that almost feels… curious.

“And what makes you think you’re the savior in this situation?”

I shrug, leaning in slightly, a ghost of a smirk tugging at my lips. “Because between the two of us, I’m the one still standing.”

He glances at the empty glass I took from him earlier, eyes narrowing. “You're annoying.”

“And you’re not nearly as scary as you pretend to be.”

He laughs — bitter, sharp — and then it softens. Just a little.

There’s a pause. A shift. Like the air decides to press closer.

“You wanna play a game?” I ask.

He raises a brow. “What kind of game?”

“A stupid one. Since, you know…” I trail off. I don’t say since I’m dying tonight, but it hangs there between us like invisible ink we’re both pretending not to read.

I smile, more playfully this time. “Let’s see who can make the other fall in love first before sunrise.”

He stares at me, like I’ve said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“You think love is something you can win?”

“No,” I whisper, “but it’s something you can fake. And I want to see who fakes it better.”

He studies me — eyes lingering too long. “You’re messed up.”

“And you’re intrigued.”

His lip twitches. The tiniest crack in the armor.

“Fine. You’re on.”

---

8:00 PM

The club is louder now. Bodies are moving, the lights pulsing in time with the bass. Everything feels warmer — hazy in that almost-too-much kind of way.

He’s dancing.

Matt — I finally got his name in between shots and half-laughed insults — stands across from me, smirking as the music swells. His sleeves are rolled up, collar loosened, and there’s a dangerous sort of charm to the way he moves. Confident but chaotic.

I laugh at something he muttered in my ear — something about me being a menace with a god complex — and slide my hands up his chest, fingers playing with the edges of his collar.

“You’re getting soft on me,” I tease.

“Please,” he says, brushing his fingers along my waist like he’s barely touching me. “If I’m getting soft, you’re the one making it happen.”

My breath hitches — just slightly — but I recover fast.

“Still convinced I’m gonna fall first?” I ask, head tilted.

He leans in closer, lips ghosting the shell of my ear. “I already saw the way you looked at me five minutes ago.”

“That was pity,” I lie.

“That was interest,” he counters. “And it’s mutual.”

We’re dancing closer now. Closer than I expected. My hands find his shoulders, and his hand — warm, grounding — settles on the small of my back.

It’s dangerous, this thing we’re doing.

But for the first time in days, maybe weeks, I don’t feel like I’m dying.

I feel alive.

And that’s exactly what scares me most.

---

8:52 PM.

He says he’s getting us drinks. I nod, watch him weave through the crowd like he knows exactly where he’s going. I should’ve followed.

A hand grabs my wrist. Not gentle. Not familiar. Just... rough.

“Hey,” some stranger slurs, reeking of vodka and something sourer.

I try to pull away. I say “no.” Once, then louder.

And that’s when I see him — Matt — storming back toward us like the floor itself is shaking beneath him.

“Let. Her. Go.”

One swing. Then another. Glass breaks. Someone yells. There's blood on someone’s collar — maybe his, maybe not.

We’re thrown out before I can even process what happened.

---

9:10 PM. Outside the bar.

“What the hell was that?” I shout, heart racing as we stumble into the cold night air. “You just... punched that guy!”

“He touched you,” he says simply, like that explains everything.

“You got us kicked out!”

“I don’t care.”

I stare at him, shaking my head, still panting from the adrenaline. His lip is bleeding. I reach up without thinking and wipe the corner with my thumb.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world not falling apart.

“I’m not losing this game,” he says.

Neither am I.

---

9:45 PM.

The hotel room is shitty. One flickering lamp. A mirror that’s probably seen too much. One bed.

I sit on the edge, legs crossed, watching him toss the room key on the desk like he’s been here before.

“We’re really doing this?” I ask.

He shrugs, tugging off his jacket. “Unless you’re scared.”

“I’m dying. What do I have to be scared of?”

His eyes flick up. That word again. Dying.

I see it hit him — not like a truck. Like a slow realization that burns.

He doesn't say anything. Just crawls into bed beside me, leaving a full foot of space between us. It's weird. The restraint. Like he's scared of touching something that won’t be there in the morning.

---

10:30 PM.

We talk.

Not flirt.

Not tease.

Talk.

He tells me about his brother. About the hospital bills. About the pawn shop he robbed and the camera he didn’t know was there.

“I'll turn myself in tomorrow morning,” he says.

I tell him how my lungs are slowly giving out. How I spent months pretending I had more time than I did. That the world’s too loud and I’m too tired.

“You don’t look sick,” he whispers.

I laugh bitterly. “That’s the worst part.”

There’s a silence between us, thick like molasses.

And then — he inches closer. Our hands touch under the covers. Just barely. But it’s enough to make my heart ache.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Not right now,” I whisper. “Right now it feels like breathing.”

---

12:02 AM.

I don’t know when we fell asleep. I just know his arm’s around me and his breath is in sync with mine.

There’s something sacred about it — like we’re stealing hours the universe didn’t want to give us.

He mumbles my name in his sleep.

And for once... I wish I had more time.

--- Matt's POV ---

5:58 AM

Something’s off.

It’s the kind of quiet that feels wrong — not peaceful, not soft. Just… wrong.

I blink awake slowly, eyes burning from too little sleep and too much everything else. She’s still beside me, her body curled into mine like she never planned to leave.

Her head rests against my chest. I can feel the weight of it. But… not the warmth.

“Hey,” I whisper, voice thick, cracking in my throat. I shift a little, brushing her hair from her face.

She doesn’t move.

Something in my chest snaps.

“Hey,” I say again, louder now, sitting up. My hand goes to her shoulder, gently shaking. “Come on. Don’t do that.”

She stays still.

My heart is thudding. Loud. Stupidly loud. I press two fingers to her wrist. Nothing.

Her lips are parted — barely — and I swear I can feel the absence of breath like it’s trying to suck the air out of the whole room.

“No, no, no—” My voice starts to crack open, sharp and raw. I shake her harder now, panic drowning me. “Don’t do this. Please don’t fucking do this.”

But she’s not waking up.

She’s not here anymore.

And it’s like the world is splitting in half.

---

I pull her into me, arms wrapped so tightly around her that if holding someone hard enough could bring them back, she'd be breathing again. Her skin’s cold. Not frozen, but that kind of cold that feels like the start of forever.

“I didn’t mean to win,” I whisper against her hair. My chest is shaking.

“I didn’t want to win.”

I keep rocking her. Back and forth, like that might keep time from moving forward. Like maybe if I just don’t stop, I can undo the sunrise, the sickness, the silence.

“I was supposed to go to jail,” I choke out. “You were supposed to— You weren’t supposed to leave first.”

She looks like she’s sleeping. Like if I just say the right thing, she’ll open her eyes and tell me to shut up and stop being dramatic.

But she doesn’t.

She doesn’t.

So I stay there. Holding her. Talking to someone who can’t answer. Crying so quietly the walls can’t hear it.

Because even if it was a game,

even if we only had one night,

I lost something I didn’t know I needed until it was already gone.

---

A/N: YAY! I'm really proud of this work! I hope you cried... Cause I did!

Thank you to these divas who helped me!!! @sturnsblogs @oopsiedaisydeer

@bambisturns @sturns-mermaid

Deviders from: @bernardsbendystraws

[mooniscrying]

my only anchor | part 1

pairing: azriel x reader  summary: you have always loved azriel, but he has yet to ever feel the same way. you have longed for his love achingly, watching in the shadows as he falls in love many times. you still hope one day he'll feel the same way, and yet just when you think he may reciprocate, elain takes his breath away.  warnings: angst, insecurity, self-deprecation, unrequited love </3 or is it? word count: 1.1k a/n: hello loveys! It's been YEARS since I’ve written a proper story, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. This story has been on my mind for a while, and after having broken up recently, a fire has lit up inside me to drown out all the sadness and pain I feel with writing. I hope this story heals you in some ways it does for me, enjoy lovey! <3

my only anchor masterlist

You couldn’t remember a time where you weren’t hopelessly in love with the shadowsinger. All of the small moments as kids where he took notice of you— the shy and quiet little girl moping in the corner, hoping to blend in with the background to avoid the prying eyes of everyone. Any speck of attention was not your forte, it always made you uncomfortable, made your heart race and palms sweat. 

And despite all this, he saw you. From the way your fingers tapped mindlessly against your legs as you watch with keen observant eyes of those around you, to the way you crinkled your noise a tiny bit when you were upset, to the way your eyes shone brighter than the stars when you shared your little stories to him. It was relentless and endearing how he took notice of every single little thing about you. 

He was your anchor, a stable force within you. He had a way of pulling you out of your comfort zone, helping you gain the confidence you needed to be comfortable in your own skin. Encouraging you to engage in social settings, even if it was just to listen, to simply be present, “I’d rather have you next to me, listening along with me to the chatter of all of these people,” he once told you. 

When in truth, you were also his anchor. You were the very light in his life that pulled him from the dark, guiding and comforting him. You saw past his brooding stern demeanor, making him smile and laugh more times than he can count. 

You embraced his shadows, his darkness, welcoming them with open arms, letting it consume and comfort you. Most of all, you had a way of reading him without him needing to say or do anything. You never pushed nor forced, you’d simply lay your head on his shoulders as you clasped his hand into yours, “It’s okay Azzy, I'm still here, I'm not going anywhere.” 

Thick as thieves, you were both inseparable. Gravitating to one another unconsciously, like souls meant to be intertwined. You were so deeply in love with him, and you were certain he felt just the same. 

You couldn’t be more wrong in your entire life. The moment she came into the family was the moment you became completely invisible, cut off from the one person you could rely on.

You’ve watched from the sidelines for centuries as Azriel bounced from one woman to the other, especially as he chased the love and longing he had for Gwyn and Mor. And yet despite how much it hurt you, he still made sure that you were a priority in his life. Never forgotten like you are now.

But could you blame him?

Elaine was gentle, soft spoken, and kind. Much like you, and yet she was everything you only wished you could be. She was graceful, she was bright, and she was endearing. People gravitated to her without her even having to say anything. She was noticed instantly, igniting the primal instinct of those around her to protect her, to include her, and to keep her safe.

And you could do nothing but go back into the darkness of your own shadows, lingering in the corner and watching as Azriel slipped through your fingers. And the worst part of it all? 

He didn’t even notice. 

It was dinner time with the whole family as usual. You sat to the right of Azriel, with Elain to his left. It was a habit for you both to fill each other’s plates with all your favorite foods. It was natural for you both, something that everyone liked to tease you both about, and yet you and Azriel thought nothing of it. Just waved it off with a smile because in truth, it just felt right to you both. 

You began filling his plate with all of the good hearty stuff he liked to indulge in once in a while. You grabbed a few slices of roast beef, 2 baked bread rolls, a generous heaping amount of potatoes, and a few pieces of broccoli and carrots.

It was only after you finished plating his food that you realized your plate was empty. You were so happily engrossed with plating his food that you failed to realize that all the movements Azriel has been making to grab food weren’t to fill your plate, but to fill hers. A pile high of food completely different from your taste buds. 

You felt the beginning of your tears in your eyes, and yet you held them back as much as you could. Everyone around you was happily talking and eating, completely oblivious to the way your heart was being torn apart. You wanted to get up and leave the room, to do nothing but cry for the rest of the night. But you didn’t want to cause a scene, you didn’t want to burden anyone with your own pain— they all deserved a good time with a good meal at the end of the night.

Coming back from your thoughts, you fought the urge to look to your left. You fought with all your heart, to ignore the whispers and giggles from them both. You especially tried to ignore the way Azriel ate happily at his food, never once wondering how his plate was already so full. That night, all you could eat was a slice of strawberry cake, going unnoticed by everyone, by Azriel, of just how little you ate. 

Despite how completely invisible you felt, it couldn’t stop you from caring and loving him from the shadows. It didn’t stop you from filling his plate every dinner time. And it most certainly didn’t stop you from doing what you’ve always done.

You refilled his secret snack cabinet in the kitchen when it was going empty, you replaced his gloves and clothes when you noticed it starting to wear out during training, and you made sure a cup of warm tea was always placed in his night stand— knowing how it helped him sleep easier. 

You were so in tuned with making sure you never stopped loving him in ways you’ve always had that you failed to realize that it was no longer being reciprocated. Your bones were starting to ache, your stomach was feeling emptier than usual, the headaches were becoming a frequent visitor, your skin becoming pale from the lack of sleep, and you were slowly drifting away from not only Azriel, but your family too.

The only solace you realized was at night, where you could cry out your heart with the moon looking down on you. You let out a sob, recalling just how loved you used to be by Azriel. How he kept you strong and how he looked out for you just as much. And yet you were so easy to forget, so easy to be tossed aside, as if you were nothing to him. With one final cry, you’ve accepted the one fact you’ve been avoiding— you lost the only anchor you had in your life.

[peachessndreamss]

Animal Magnetism

Summery : A date volunteering at an animal shelter for you and Bob.

Characters : Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader (No use of Y/N)

Warnings : None (other than bad)

Word count : 2.2k

A/N : Lewis Pullman is fully ruining my life. I wrote this a long time ago, idk if I like it or not 😆 but here we go.

peachessndreamss Masterlist l peachessndreamss ask box

"So I've got a fun idea for a date…" you said innocently over your morning coffee.

You’d been watching Bob since he entered the kitchen a few minutes before, his shirt was still untucked from his pants and he’d yet to push his hair back off his forehead, he’d gotten himself a cup of coffee from the pot and had been rooting through the cupboard looking for breakfast when you’d spoken.

Bob turned to look at you and narrowed his gaze for a few seconds. The last time you’d had a “fun” idea for a date it had been a terrifying tour of a supposedly haunted house which had left Bob on edge for days and unable to look in the mirror for at least a week.

"It's not a scary idea, I promise,” you followed up quickly, knowing exactly what he was thinking about.

"Okay, what is it then?" He replied before taking a mouthful of coffee.

“Volunteering at an animal shelter,” you started, grabbing your phone and opening up Instagram.

“One of the girls from work did it a couple of weeks ago and told me about it. We’d be helping exercise the dogs and socialising the kittens, it would only be a few hours and I think it would be so cute!" you explained excitedly, pulling up the social media page and clicking on the most recent set of volunteering photos and pushing the phone toward Bob as you swiped through the pictures.

“Cute,” Bob agreed with a tentative nod, “and very unlikely for there to be any ghosts,” he muttered under his breath.

“So, what do you think?” you asked.

Your eyes were shining with excitement and you were practically bouncing in your seat, Bob would not have been able to say no if he’d tried. As Bob had grown up with a multitude of family pets and since joining the Navy he had missed having a furry little friend to come home too.

"Yeah, book it,” he agreed as he put his coffee down and ripped open a protein bar with his teeth.

You booked a slot for the next Saturday, which Bob already had off and no prior plans in his diary. As the day got closer and closer you were constantly sending Bob pictures from the shelters Instagram of the animals you’d be seeing.

Saturday morning you woke hours before your alarm was due to go off but like a child on Christmas morning you just couldn’t wait any longer.

"Com'on!" You moaned, shaking him awake, "It’s time to wake up!”.

Bob continued to pretend to be asleep, keeping his eyes tightly closed but unable to stop himself grinning.

"Bob please!" You insisted before he gave a very fake snore.

"Bob!" You cried, yanking the pillow out from under his head and hitting him with it.

"Ahrigh'!" He cried as the pillow made contact with his stomach, "Ah’right woman, I'm awake!".

Bob did manage to convince you that you didn’t need to be out of bed that very second and you could enjoy a few minutes of cuddles before showering. You rested your head on his shoulder and let your fingers run up and down his stomach and chest. When his stomach gave a rumble he agreed it was time to get up and have some breakfast.

The two of you worked easily together in the kitchen. He set the coffee pot up to run while you warmed croissants in the oven and gathered the butter and jam. As you pulled the pastries from the oven you caught Bob watching you with a dopey, love struck look on his face.

"What ya looking at Baby?" You asked.

"Just the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he replied with an easy smile.

“You’re only saying that because I’ve got food in my hands,” you joked as you transferred the pastries to a plate and put them in front of him.

“That’s only half of the reason,” he teased as he took a croissant and pulled the jar of chocolate spread toward him.

The two of you washed up before heading back toward your bedroom to get dressed. The shelter had advised you to wear old, comfortable clothes that you didn’t mind getting dirty.

Bob’s choice of pale blue jeans, faded olive green t-shirt and backward baseball cap should have looked perfectly ordinary but instead it sent shivers up and down your spine.

You stood in front of him and slipped your arms around his neck, finding a few long strands peeking out the back of his cap to twist around your fingertips.

"Do I pass muster, Commander?" He joked as you ran your hands down his back before bringing your hands to rest on his firm, round backside.

"Certainly do Lieutenant," you replied, giving him a soft kiss on his lips before you headed off to brush your teeth.

On the drive to the shelter you couldn’t sit still for a second, Bob placed his hand on your thigh as he drove to try and limit your bouncing but just found his hand bouncing along with you. Bob hadn’t stopped smiling since you’d left the house and as much as he was looking forward to your day, he was happiest to see you so excited. At the shelter you joined a number of other couples who were volunteering that day. There was a similar look of excitement on everyone's faces. A young and bubbly shelter employee greeted everyone and explained how the day would go before dividing people up and giving out your first job of the day.

You and Bob were starting your day with dog walking. You were taken to the kennels and shown which animals you would be walking, Bob immediately took a shine to a miniature schnauzer, he took several photos of the dog, sending them to Rooster as “moustache inspiration”.

After placing the dogs into their harnesses you were shown the large field they would be having their exercise in. You had a leash in each hand with two excitable dachshunds at the end. The two small dogs kept crossing in front of you and you had to keep your wits about you to make sure you didn’t trip over them. Bob was to your left, the miniature schnauzer walking at his side.

“We should get a pet,” Bob said as you carefully untangled the dachshund's leads for the 15th time.

“Do you think we’re settled enough?” you replied.

Bob paused for a few seconds, considering your question. He gave a small, one shouldered shrug.

“I think we could give a little guy a better life, a real home,” he replied thoughtfully, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, I can see us with a little guy,” you agreed, picturing the home the two of you shared but with a four legged addition running around the place.

The two of you returned to the kennels to give the dogs their lunch, Bob was down on his knees as he tried to unhook a particularly excitable dachshund from their leash but was struggling as the dog kept bouncing up to try and lick his face.

Bob managed to get a good hold on the dog and held their small, wriggling body against his chest, using his other hand to unclip the leash, all the while the dog licked his chin.

"It's a good job you're cute," Bob laughed as he let the dog go and they scampered off to their feed bowl.

"You’re normally saying that to me," you teased.

"Yeah, and you're normally trying to lick me to death as well," Bob quipped back with a grin.

"But you never normally tell me to stop,".

Bob laughed, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning a charming shade of pink.

After a lunch break in the sunshine with the other volunteers, you and Bob were shown to the kitten room where the shelter’s smallest residence lived.

"Cats normally don’t like me,” Bob said quietly as you were shown to a large, bright room where several kittens were sleeping in a basket in a patch of sunlight.

“Don’t be silly, Mrs Khan’s cat loves you!” you replied, recalling how your neighbour's cat would often come bounding across the street to greet Bob in the morning.

“That’s because I gave it some tuna once,”.

“The way to a cat’s heart is through their stomach,” you joked as you turned your attention to a small ginger kitten that had just woken up and was making its way toward you.

“We have that in common then,”.

The two of you settled in, encouraging the kittens from their basket, rolling balls for them to chase after and flicking feathers through the air for them to leap and paw at. Bob laughed until his stomach hurt when two of the kittens started to play fight and you began to narrate the tussle like a wrestling match.

A tiny white kitten with black ears and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen seemed to take a particular liking to Bob and hadn’t stopped clambering all over him since he’d taken a seat on the floor. Bob sat back on his elbows and watched as the kitten climbed up onto his stomach and carefully made his way up Bob’s chest to sniff at his chin.

As your time at the shelter was drawing to a close a shelter employee who was taking some photographs for social media posts dropped in on the two of you. She captured several of Bob resting back on his elbows with the kitten rubbing against his cheek.

"He's really taken with you!" She commented as Bob gathered the kitten in one hand and sat up.

"Yeah, he’s cute," Bob replied.

"You guys know all the animals you've been with today are available for adoption…".

“Yeah we know,” he replied as the memory of your earlier conversation floated through his mind.

“We were just saying earlier about that,” you said, your voice filled with hope.

Bob took a deep breath and brought the kitten up to his face, gazing into its bright eyes.

“Do you think you’d like to live with us?” Bob asked.

After a pause of a few seconds the kitten gave a tiny mewl of assent.

With the new cat carrier strapped in the car and the boot full of anything and everything a kitten might need, the two of you headed home. You kept looking over your shoulder to see the back seat where the furry little face was peaking through the mesh of the carrier to see what was happening.

"We need to name him," you said.

"Whatta‘bout Snowball?" Bob replied, not able to fight the smile that was plastered all over his face.

"So unoriginal," you criticised with a roll of your eyes.

"Okay judgy,” Bob replied with a roll of his eyes, “what do you suggest?”.

“We could call him Sugar? He’s certainly sweet enough,”.

“He doesn’t look like a Sugar to me,” Bob replied uncertainly.

You argued names back and forth the whole drive home, still not able to come to a consensus. You carried the cat into the house and took him into the kitchen, you'd decided that would be the best place for him to be while he acclimatised to his new home, and the floor was easily cleaned of any little accidents.

You were in the kitchen opening the carrier when you heard Bob's phone ring, he answered it and started to talk to someone you couldn't hear.

"You're such a handsome boy aren't you?" You cooed at the kitten as you lifted the tiny thing out of his carrier.

"It's kind of you to say so," a voice drawled from Bob's phone with a laugh.

You turned to see Bob in the midst of a video call with Hangman.

"Not you," you replied with a roll of your eyes.

"I was talking to this guy," you added, holding the kitten up so Hangman could see.

"That's a cat," Hangman said with a confident nod of his head.

"You should call him Hangman, seeing as we're both so handsome,".

"Not on your life," Bob replied, taking back control of the conversation and taking the video call out of the kitchen and into the livingroom.

Except the name did stick and Bob ended up with a cat called Hangman, much to his own annoyance. But despite the name, Bob loved his cat more than just about anything else in the world. Hangman would follow Bob around the house like a duckling with its mother duck, and your camera roll very quickly became hundreds of photographs and videos of the two of them.

"I never thought of myself as a cat person," he mused one evening while stretched out on the sofa, Hangman curled up on his chest in a spot you might have occupied otherwise.

"Maybe you're not," you shrugged, "but you are that cats person,".

Bob chuckled and scratched the spot between Hangman’s ears.

"So, where shall we go for our next date?" You asked innocently, knowing you had already made enquiries at a nearby alpaca farm about spending the day.

Bob turned his eyes to you and narrowed them slightly.

"Nowhere where we're gonna end up with another living thing in our home please,".

"Maybe we'll just stay home?" You offered with a grin.

"Still risky," he replied with a wink.

[marvelkiddie]

Mommy’s Day

Today was a special day you figured, it’s been a while since Wanda got you long enough for her to trust you to watch a little bit of tv in the mornings, you were watching some morning cartoons when Mother’s Day commercials keep popping up on TV once in a while, by now you adored Wanda, you weren’t scared of her anymore and she knew that, it was only fair to give her something special today after all she took care of you and she no longer hitted you! you thought, but there was a tiny problem as much as she loved having you she never got proper little girl things like cute crayons or art supplies, so making a card for her was gonna be a little hard Mommy do you have scissors? i weally need them you asked while she sipped her morning coffee no you don’t, what do you possible need scissors for? she said giving you a suspicious look you pouted i can’t tell you or it wouldn’t be a surprise maybe some markers i need them for something important pwease she realized you didn’t had anything that you were asking for and after a moment she figured it wasn’t for something cheeky or harmful mmm tell you what if you do your chores mommy will go to the store to get you things hmm? you immediately stand up and walked to the sink to clean your breakfast dishes maybe some stickers too? any pretty ones you like mommy you said while fidgeting with your feet by this time she had caught onto your little plan and if she was right, she was oh so excited to finally have you all to herself and you adoring her, she quickly got ready to leave before you said if I’ve been good can i get some chocolates too pwease? You’ve been more than good but she said to not be so greedy I’ll se what i can do okay. You heard the loud clicking sound of the door and beeping to the code you made quick work to Wanda’s room to find some of her pens to start doodling on a piece of paper that you hoped will be a nice little card for her, you drew two figures one much taller with pretty wavy hair and the smaller holding onto her hand along with some flowers, by the time she got back you walked to her with caution to your surprise she got you a 64 pack of crayons! oh you were delighted, also some bunny stickers and a special scissor that cut in a zigzag line thank you mommy! thank you for my new things i did all my chores and aah im a little tired now you said faking a yawn Wanda just chuckled and gave you the bag of things, you walked to your tiny room and started coloring your previous piece of art making sure to use every single crayon of that box of course, you looked through the bag to see what else she had gotten and you were shocked to see some glitter pens! this was the best day ever! about twenty minutes later you walked to the living room with your hands behind your back mommy? are you busy? You asked with a soft voice what is it baby? are you okay? she asked putting her book down mhmm i just wanted to make you something special i hope you like it mommy you said walking to her handing her the most colorful card she had ever seen and a box of chocolates with some of them missing already but you tried! Wanda was in awe she was so happy to be at this point with you, you adored her and she could definitely see that now i think it’s Mother’s Day and you are my mommy so i wanted to give you something just for you Wanda stood up to hug you and walked you to the couch sitting you on her lap this is such a pretty card little one thank you so much she said giving you kisses all over your face making you giggle im sorry i ate some of them chocolates I couldn’t help it you said pouting but she just hugged you no worries i was gonna shared them with you anyways she said with a hand on your cheek giving you a kiss on your temple you both sat on the couch for a while with your back pressed to her explaining your work of art while munching on the yummy treats you had left, after a while you fell asleep in her arms while she was holding you close running a hand through your hair, you were both so happy to have each other.

[justwosoimagines]

Silent Sidelines

Pairing: Kelley O'hara x F!Reader, Natasha Romanoff (Mother) x F!Reader (Daughter), Wanda x Natasha, Carol (brief) x F!Reader, Tony Stark (Father) x F!Reader (Daughter) Warnings: trauma, age gap (F!Reader is in her early 20's and her lovers in their late 20's and early 30's), angst. Wordcount: 3231. A/N: So, I'm trying to ease back into writing and this is my first try, my idea is to be a two or three chapter fic with something I thought of some years ago. Let me know what you think. Fic mastelist

Life is not as easy as it once was for me, but that doesn't mean I don’t enjoy what I have now.

To most people, you could say I’m living a dream — and actually, that’s true. I’m living the dream that a lot of little girls have while growing up in the US after the '99 Women’s World Cup. I’m a promising soccer star for the National Team, even though I’m still college-aged, and I have a gorgeous girlfriend who supports me and stands by my side every step of the way.

So why do I feel so... lost?

I don’t even know if lost is the right word to describe what I’m feeling, you know? I have a 3.8 GPA at Stanford University. I’m their top striker. I’m also a striker for the USWNT. By any measure, I have what people would call the perfect life.

The only problem is: I don’t really have it.

I’m living day by day, constantly waiting for the moment when everyone will find out that I’m a fraud. I’m terrified of losing everything I’ve built here — my future, my love, my life in California.

“I love watching the sunset with you,” Kelley O’Hara, my girlfriend, says, looking into my eyes. I smile and rest my head on her shoulder.

It’s the kind of moment that doesn’t need a reply.

Watching the sunset with her, while the waves break gently on the shore, is pure peace. I glance at her — she’s smiling softly, eyes nearly closed. I breathe in her scent, and in an instant, I’m wrapped in a bubble of love.

Meeting Kelley was one of the best things that happened to me last year. I met her on my first day at USWNT camp, and she was… something else. She brought peace into my chaos. When I’m with her and she cracks a joke, it’s like nothing else matters. She makes me feel safe.

Kelley has been my anchor since day one. I love how full of herself she is — in the best way. She’s confident. She knows her power and how to use it. She’s smart and kind. Sweet and attentive. She’s everything I ever dreamed of.

She hands me a cup of cinnamon coffee, and I breathe it in. That comforting smell means everything to me.

Coffee became our thing. We learned how to use different machines and savor different blends together. It was our silent “I love you.” Every time we brewed a cup, it felt like home.

“You’re so quiet today,” she says, drawing circles on my arm with her fingers.

“I’m thinking about ghosts from my past.”

Her breath catches. It’s rare for me to bring up my past — and I know it makes her a little sad. Not in a needy or obsessive way, but because she genuinely cares. She’s patient. She waits.

“This next camp… in New York… I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to go. It’s been years since I left, and I don’t know if I’m ready to be back.”

“I know it can be hard to return to a place you once called home. I don’t think it’ll be easy, but I’ll be with you through it all.”

“Thanks, Kell.”

I wish I could tell her why I’m so afraid to go back to New York.

I wish I could explain why I don’t want to see my parents again — or the people they call family.

But I can’t.

I can’t tell her anything because it’s classified. That was my deal with Nick Fury. He promised to erase my existence if I never talked about my past.

And at the time, that felt like a pretty good deal for a broken young adult desperate to cut ties with the only life she’d ever known.

(…)

“You know, I’ve always loved New York,” Alex Morgan tells me. She found me on the hotel rooftop, staring out at the city lights. “I love how it’s so similar to California — full of possibilities and dreams — and yet so different at the same time.”

“Do you want to live here someday?”

“No, I don’t think it’s the kind of city where you settle down and build a family. My plan is to live with Serv in Florida. We’re building our home there, near a lake in Fort Lauderdale.”

She smiles, lost in thought, her eyes full of tenderness — the kind that makes me long to have something like that with Kelley someday.

“But you grew up here, right? What was it like?” Alex asks.

“Oh.” Her question pulls me back to a time when I still believed in a better world — a world where everything was possible, where anything could be made real. “It was... a lot.”

“A lot?” She leans on the parapet, giving me space but still waiting for more.

“Yeah. I mean… my parents — they were, they are — something else. They worked 24/7. Always fighting some internal or external battle. Sometimes, they were so consumed by fear that they forgot how to actually be parents. I grew up hearing all the things I wasn’t allowed to do... while watching them do those very same things.”

I stop looking at her and glance toward the street below. A mural catches my eye — street art of Black Widow and Iron Man painted on a nearby wall — and I let out a soft scoff.

“Sometimes, when everything got to be too much, I’d run away and go there.” I point toward the mural. "In my early teens, it was my place. A place to feel and create — to pour myself into art.”

“Wow. You don’t talk about your parents much,” she says, eyes still on the mural. “Are they coming to the game next week?”

“No. And yeah... I don’t really talk about them.”

I don’t answer the second part of her question because, truthfully, I don’t think they even know I’m in the city.

We haven’t spoken since the day I left — while they were off on yet another “work” trip I wasn’t allowed to go on.

The rooftop door swings open, and I smell her perfume before I see her. I smile.

“There you two are,” Kelley says, wrapping her arms around me. “The girls are waiting for us. Team bonding time.”

“Well, let’s go then,” Alex says, shooting me a look before walking ahead.

Kelley laces her fingers with mine and leans closer. “Everything okay?”

I just nod.

(…)

“So today we’re doing media day,” you hear your coach say, standing in front of the team.

The girls cheer — they love media day. You, on the other hand, are already thinking of ways to get out of it. But before your brain can come up with a good excuse, the coach keeps talking:

“This time, we’re doing things a little differently. As you probably know, the Avengers aren’t exactly enjoying the best public image right now, so they asked if we could help them out with some PR.”

And just like that, your stomach drops.

They know.

They know you’re in New York.

They know you’re with USWNT.

And now, after all these years, you’re going to have to face them again.

Because there’s no way out of media day if it involves the Avengers — not with the Federation watching.

“Oh my God!” Sonnett screams. “We’re meeting Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?! How’s this gonna work, coach?”

“Great question, Emily. So, they’ve got a soccer field at the compound — well, technically the Tower. They’ve invited us over to do a tour, play some soccer, show off some tricks... we’ll also be doing interviews.”

“WE’RE GOING TO THE AVENGERS TOWER!” Mal Pugh screams this time.

You let your head drop onto the table with a groan. Nobody thinks anything of it — you always get grumpy on media day.

“Alright girls,” the coach continues. “Wrap up coffee in ten minutes max, we’re heading out in thirty.”

You glance at Kelley. There’s sorrow in your eyes, and though she doesn’t fully understand it, she doesn’t ask questions either. She knows something’s wrong — and she trusts you’ll talk when you’re ready.

Just before you leave the dining area, you lean into her and whisper,

“I’m sorry for today.”

And she squeezes your hand.

(…)

On the bus ride to the Tower — your old home — the girls are hysterical, talking loudly about who will get to interview who. Emily is already making plans to join the Avengers. Even Becky jokes that she wants to try lifting Thor’s hammer.

You sit in silence, your eyes occasionally drifting to the window, to the road you’ve taken countless times — driving, running, flying. You know the way like the back of your hand, and yet, you feel like a stranger to it.

Kelley sits beside you and wraps you in her arms.

“What did you mean when you said you’re sorry, baby?”

“I don’t want you to find out with the others,” you say quietly. “I already know them. I lived there for a long time… before moving to California.”

“What?” Her surprise is clear.

“I’m sorry I never told you. It’s just… that part of my life is something I’ve tried to forget.”

“So… were you some kind of Avenger?” she asks playfully, a small smile forming as she tries to lift the weight from your chest. “Did you go on missions? Have a superpower or something?”

She laughs and tickles you, and you can’t help but laugh too.

“Stop it, Kel!”

You take a deep breath.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just… if something goes wrong, or if they act like they used to — the way I remember — I don’t want you to be surprised along with everyone else. I don’t want you to feel like I betrayed you.”

“Y/n,” she says, cupping your cheek, her voice steady. “Even if you hadn’t told me a single thing, I still wouldn’t feel betrayed. I love you, no matter what. And if any of them make you uncomfortable — powers or not — I’ll kick their asses.”

Her voice is calm but fierce. She means it.

Your eyes shine with unshed tears, but instead of crying, you lean in and kiss her softly.

“I love you too, Kel.”

(…)

Arriving at the tower, you were met by none other than Pepper Potts at the entrance, flanked by two men and one woman in black suits. You found it funny that she was acting like a public relations officer now. The media staff from the team were the first to get off the bus, setting up cameras to record everyone’s arrival.

“You okay?” Kelley asked you before either of you had the chance to stand up and leave the bus.

“I’ll be okay, Kel. Try to enjoy this—I think you’ll like it,” you replied, preparing to step into your old home.

Everyone gathered in front of Pepper while you stayed back, trying to go unnoticed by the people you once knew. Behind Pepper stood Maria Hill, Deputy Director of SHIELD—and your mentor for a few years.

“Welcome to Avengers Tower, girls. Today we’ve prepared some fun activities for you, including a tour of the tower, a little soccer match, and a Q&A session with the Avengers. I’m Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, and as you all know, since Stark Industries is one of the primary funders of the tower, I’ll be guiding you through the tour alongside some of the Avengers.”

After Pepper explained the day’s schedule, everyone was led to the security area to be granted access to the tower. With a group of almost forty people, you managed to avoid drawing attention to yourself—although Maria Hill was glancing at you more often than you’d have liked.

Kelley stayed by your side as much as possible, like a bodyguard, and Alex, sensing something was off, joined you as well—mirroring her best friend. You were grateful for them. It looked good for the media, as if you were interacting with your teammates, and it helped your sanity too—so you didn’t have to speak to any of the Avengers or SHIELD staff.

“Now we’re entering the perimeter of the tower. From here on, we have triple surveillance to guarantee the safety of our weapons, technology, and personnel,” Pepper said with her usual polished tone. You knew she was downplaying things. The team didn’t, so they were understandably in awe of everything around them.

“Pepper, how many floors does the tower have?” Alyssa Naeher asked, curiosity in her voice.

“93 floors in the main tower,” Pepper answered. The girls all looked a bit shocked. “So, to really start our tour, we’ll be separating you into four groups so you can enjoy it more and ask questions. Anyone want to help me divide the groups?”

“Yes,” the coach said, stepping up. “Alright girls, the staff will be split into two groups, and the captains and keepers will go with them. As for the rest, the ten names I call will be in one group, and the others in a second group, okay? Kelley, Alex, Y/N, Emily, Lindsey, Mal, Christen, Tobin, Sam, and Rose—you’re one group.”

“Okay, let’s head to the conference room. Each group will start their tour from there with a guide,” Pepper said, beginning to walk into the building for real now. That made you catch your breath—because you knew a very gossipy, nosy AI was already watching.

(…)

You were overwhelmed, to say the least. On the walk to the conference room, you saw too much. For the girls, it was just a lot of new information and some crazy tech. But for you, it was your past life. The paintings on the walls, the tech you helped develop at some point, the corridors you used to wander when you felt pressured, when you felt trapped.

Kelley noticed you were starting to freak out—over-breathing, scanning every wall. She also noticed how your posture had shifted, more rigid, like that of a soldier. Very similar to the woman standing next to Pepper, whose identity they didn’t yet know. Being back in what you once called home was messing with you, and Kelley could feel it.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom or get out of here? I can say you’ve got a headache or something,” she whispered into your ear, wrapping one arm around your shoulder and pulling you close as you walked.

“It’s just a lot, Kel. I just need a minute to breathe,” you told her, catching Hill watching the interaction with interest. She quirked an eyebrow when she saw you notice.

“WOW,” Alex said as you entered the conference room.

The place looked like something out of a sci-fi movie—a futuristic hall filled with holograms, screens, and every kind of tech imaginable. A group of people stood around a table, chatting over some maps. You recognized them instantly. The people you once called family. The same people who shattered the person you once were.

The Avengers stopped talking as soon as the team entered the room. With a simple motion of his fingers, Tony made the maps disappear. Standing there were Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Thor, and Carol Danvers—the world’s most famous heroes, standing right in front of you all.

“Guys, meet the Avengers,” Pepper said, stepping forward to break the silence.

“I think they broke,” you heard Maria whisper to Natasha, who chuckled softly.

The girls were clearly trying not to scream, and you could see it. So could the Avengers. Being Tony, he decided to break the tension and steal the spotlight.

“Welcome to Avengers Tower. I hope Pepper’s treated you well. As you may know, I’m Tony Stark—or Iron Man, if you prefer.” And just like that, he called his suit and began suiting up right in front of everyone.

You rolled your eyes at him showing off.

“OMG!” Sonnett said, flabbergasted. “I wanna be just like him! Tony, can I try a suit?”

“Of course not, Emily,” Becky replied, amused.

“Yes, kid, unfortunately I can’t let any of you try one. After all, they’re weapons—dangerous ones. But I can let you try to lift Thor’s hammer before we start the tour,” Tony offered, and the girls went wild. Thor looked a bit uneasy about it but eventually called Mjolnir over.

“Okay, ladies, who’s trying first?” Thor asked, while the Avengers watched the chaos unfold, clearly amused.

“Me,” Alex said. She walked to the center of the room, where the hammer sat on a table, and tried to lift it. It didn’t move. Pinoe laughed and tried next—with the same result.

“Come on, I know I can lift it,” Becky said, but she couldn’t budge it either. After several minutes of laughing and failed attempts, the only one who hadn’t tried was you.

You weren’t going to. You tried to stay quiet. But Mal saw you, nudged Rose, who told Sam, who told Emily—and Emily never backed down from a challenge.

“Your turn, Y/N. I know you’re stronger than us, but can you lift it?” she said.

“Uh...” You lowered your eyes, trying to stay invisible to certain heroes. “I don’t think I’ll manage it either.”

“Now, now, Lady Y/N—you must try,” Thor said, and your heart clenched. You missed him. Thor wasn’t always around when you were growing up, caught up in Asgardian duties, but he was one of your anchors when you were drowning.

“I don’t know...” you said again, trying to deflect.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” The girls started chanting your name. Before it could escalate further, you stood up—finally peeling yourself away from the chair you’d nearly melted into. Kelley squeezed your hand as if to say, You’re okay. I’m here.

You knew things would get even weirder after this.

You walked to the front and stopped in front of Thor. Looking into his eyes, you tried to show how much you missed him. He pulled you into a hug, and the girls screamed—he hadn’t hugged anyone else. A tear threatened to fall, but you wiped it away on his shirt.

You spotted Carol—the only other Avenger you still trusted. She smirked, silently challenging you to lift the hammer. You knew she’d come close once. Steve tensed slightly; he knew you, and he feared what you were capable of.

You looked at the girls, then the Avengers. You placed your hand on the hammer, steadying it—and then, as if it weighed nothing, you lifted it. Effortlessly.

You grinned, flashing a victorious smile at Carol and Thor before walking over to Kelley with Mjolnir in hand.

“See, baby? I think I’m the new Asgardian Queen, huh?” you said playfully.

The other Avengers were visibly unsettled. The girls couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Kelley laughed with you.

“Only if I can be by your side, my queen,” she replied, giving you a quick kiss. The two of you took a selfie, Mjolnir included.

Thor approached you, pride glowing in his expression. He didn’t say much — he knew better. He simply said it was a rare thing and that you were worthy. You smiled but couldn’t bring yourself to look at Natasha or Tony — your so-called parents — who now looked completely out of place.

[thecouchsofa]

Midstory line tag

(10 lines from the middle of 10 fics & tagging 10 people)

Go read @citrusses lines, all of which are bangers! These were so fun to choose - I've gone with lines from my personal favourites of my posted fics, but they appear below in no particular order.

The Lesson of You

“How come you’re not dancing yet, Papa?” Ollie asked. Harry turned to see Malfoy watching Ollie with a fond smile, the child doing a dance that seemed to involve stepping forwards and backwards to the beat, his hips wiggling from side to side. “Nobody wants to see me dance,” Malfoy laughed, shaking his head

Something in the Orange

Hermione shot him the most pitying look he’d been privy to since his school years. “No coffee in Azkaban?” “No,” he said, closing his eyes on the next sip. “No fucking coffee in stupid shitting Azkaban.”

Us, infinite (unfortunately)

“Pick something else. Something that doesn’t have a monster on the cover.” From behind his back, Malfoy produced another plastic case. This one had an enormous pair of tits on the cover, censored only by a large banner claiming that the film was, ironically, uncensored. “Well,” Harry muttered, taking the proffered DVD, “this doesn’t look very gay.” Malfoy sniffed, apparently taking offence. “I do have other interests, you know. I’m not only my sexuality.”

Potter's Snake Removal Services

“Well?” Malfoy said. “Everyone already thinks you’ve got a prick the size of the Thames, Potter. If anything, you’re dispelling the myth rather than helping it.” “I thought you meant your cock,” Harry muttered.

Future Histories

“You’re … not angry?” Harry blinked. His green eyes looked ridiculously owlish behind his thick glasses. “What, that I have a husband instead of a wife?” Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft, Harry. I’m not a child, I can handle such news. And it’s not a total surprise, I suppose. It’s not as though I’ve ever wanted to hold hands with Pansy of all people. Don’t tell Father, but Theodore has always been a more appealing prospect for the future.”

Evergreen

He decided to just get the gift giving over with since he’d already sorted it anyway. The only thing more naff than giving your unrequited crush a hopelessly emotional present was holding on to said present and staring aimlessly at it while lamenting the fact that said person would never like you back. At least Christmas was an excuse; better to give it to Harry on a holiday known for gift giving rather than shoving it into his hand at breakfast one day or holding onto it until bloody July.

Divinity Says

Damen leaned back on the furs, holding up his weight with one hand. He slowed his touches as Laurent increased the pace of his. “I would do this to you on our wedding night,” he said, “if you would allow me.” Laurent’s rhythm stuttered. His lips parted on a gasp as his fingers gripped his cock tighter. “I would have you do far more than this.”

A Wizard's Guide to Co-Parenting With Your Ex-Arch Nemesis

“Oh,” Harry gasped. “His nightlight is still upstairs. He can’t sleep without it. I’ll go get it.” “It’s quite alright,” Malfoy said, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ll sleep with him in the common room, by the fire. Blaise’ll have my head if he gets woken up again.” Harry chewed on his lip. “But what about his peacock? He needs that too.” Malfoy looked at Harry for a second, his face softer than Harry had ever seen it. It lasted only a moment before he turned away. “I’ve something he can borrow. He’ll be fine.”

Golden Starbursts

The second man that Damen fucked was similar to the first in more ways than one. Most notably, he too wore the golden starburst emblem on his clothing.

The Brightest Constellations of Our Souls

“This is your mystery dinner surprise?” Malfoy asked, eyes narrowing as he looked around the dimly lit room. “This is a Wetherspoons?” “Yes,” Harry nodded. “Yes, it is.”

Calling on @galaxoshine @wolfpadx @soliblomst @microdamage @the-invisibility-bloke @arminaa8 @moonflower-rose @starsworth @shoopsthereitis @lightningrogers to add theirs 🩵💛